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tightjeansjavi · 1 month

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My Joel,

A/N: I have not written a fic with this many words in a HOT minute, and boy does it feel good! What a cathartic experience this has been for me after writing Joel’s letters. I did not expect so many of you to want Joel and his dearest to have an alternative ending, but here we are 🤭 writing this has been a real treat, and I hope I have done their backstory and alternative ending justice! Buckle up, because you’re in for a wild ride! Thank you to @beardedjoel for letting me spam you with all the updates and screaming along with me 🥹 thank you to @strang3lov3 for betaing and creating these STUNNING divider mood boards for each section of the fic 💘

~word count: 14.4k~

Summary: the story of two forbidden lovers finding each other once more.

Pairing | forbidden lover!joel x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, infertility, canon typical violence, mutual pining, child abuse, mentions of S/A accusations (not by Joel) misogyny (not by Joel) homophobia/homophobic slurs (not by Joel) mutual pining, hopeless romantics, forbidden love, societal status, somewhat historically accurate language, arranged marriage (not to Joel), language, mentions of alcohol and tobacco products, virginity/virginity loss, happy ending/alternative ending, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

My Dearest,

June 1st, 1844

“This evening you are to meet the banker's son, daughter.” Your mother’s sickly sweet voice floated through your room, where you sat along the cushioned bench beneath the long window, your palm resting along your chin as you gazed out towards the gardens, the grass an unnatural shade of green compared to the common folk and farmers that would only dream of stepping foot on your family's estate. Your wealth was directly a result of your fathers parents, and their long lineage of thoroughbred horses. Your own mare was a descendant of the original three stallions imported into England in the late 1600’s.

But you were more focused on the man leading your mare, and her two stallions flocking at her hindquarters from the pasture: your Joel.

Joel Miller was a mere stable hand who was entrusted by your father himself to care for your family's prized horses. But to you? Joel was much more than just a stable hand. In fact, you begged your father one summer to increase Joel’s pay when he proved to be knowledgeable with the horses and their needs. Your father agreed, but refused to dote Joel with a new title. He was penniless compared to you, but you saw his heart before you saw his status in society. And he? He loved you from the moment you first met.

Spring, 1839

“Sir, sir!” A young Joel, 13 years of age burst into your fathers parlor, his hand-me-down clothes were soaked to the bone as the storm raged on outside the estate walls. “Dahlia’s womb has breached! Her foal is on the way!” He exclaimed with excitement.

Outside of your families prized stallions, the mares were just as valuable, bearing the next line of champions, no doubt. Dahlia belonged to your mother, and this was her third foal. Your mother couldn’t stand the presence of Joel in her home, dripping all over the floor, creating a puddle of water along the artisan rug beneath his muddy boots.

“Boy!” She snapped, setting her book down along her skirts where she was sitting near the fireplace, with perfect posture. Her eyes held a cold, unnerving stare. “You are in no state to be in my home looking like—” her pointed comment was cut off by the double doors leading to the parlor bursting open, to reveal your excited, and visibly out of breath face.

“Dahlia’s foal is on the way?!”

It was past your bedtime, but down the hall you heard the news of Dahlia, and couldn’t contain yourself. You were still in your nightgown, your hair in braids with bows tied into the ends. Joel felt a flush immediately rise to his damp cheeks at the sight of you. You were as pretty as a flower, the same age as him, and he wondered why this was the first time he’s seen you, till he remembered that most girls your age spent their days indoors preparing for marriage to a suitable husband of their fathers choosing, and inevitably bearing children down the line.

Just as quickly as his gaze fell upon you, he looked away, clearing his throat to hide the redness rising in his cheeks.

“Daughter!” Your mother scolded you when you rushed into the room and didn’t curtsy upon your arrival. She had yet to notice the bows in your hair when you quickly curtsied, fingers delicately grasping the hem of your nightgown as you bent down at the waist, one foot in front of the other just as it was ingrained into your brain for years. “Apologies, mother.” You softly squeaked out in embarrassment.

She shook her head, a displeasured look fell upon her hardened features. She rose from the couch, silk shawl clenched in her fist as she crossed the room and draped the garment across your shoulders. “Cover up your modesty.” She snapped unkindly. “Men should never see a lady in her night garments.”

I am not a lady, mother. I am a child! Is what you wanted to say, but instead you weakly nodded, muttering another apology under your breath. That’s when your mother took notice of your braids and the bows tied at the ends of them, a sign of innocent youth when you were to become a woman. She scoffed, nose upturning at the sight of them. Her cruel hand rose and fell, landing harshly against your soft cheek.

Joel visibly flinched from the sound, feeling his blood begin to boil under his soaked clothing. You had done nothing wrong! And who in their right mind slaps their own child!

Your skin stung, tears welling and nearly breaching down your cheeks when she yanked the bows from your braids and mockingly held them in front of your face. “These are for little girls. You are to become a woman, or have you forgotten?”

Your lower lip wobbled, and your knees trembled. Your eyes frantically searched the room, landing upon your father who paid no mind to your distress. He was too busy puffing away on his cigar, and even if he didn’t agree with his wife’s treatment upon you, he didn’t dare speak up about it.

“Joel, be a good lad and fetch my daughters coat. I will not be treading out in a storm such as that one, but someone from our family should be present for the birth of Dahlias foal.” He gruffed out. “Let us hope for a strong colt. There are too many fillies prancing around here.”

“Sir—” Joel started, but was cut off.

“Fetch her coat, and do not make me ask you a third time, boy.” He sternly reiterated.

“Yes, sir. Right away!” He nodded, quickly turning on his heel and exited the parlor, his eyes met your teary-eyed one briefly before he disappeared behind the open doors.

“Our daughter has no business going out in this storm, husband! Especially not with the likes of that—boy.” She seethed, stepping back from your trembling frame and walked in the direction of the fire, the now crumpled bows in her fist. She wasted no time to throw them directly into flames, watching as they were burnt up into ash immediately.

“Relax, wife.” Your father sighed, tapping out the ash from his cigar into the crystal ashtray along the table, “she is in good hands with Joel, I trust him.”

“Excuse me, miss?” a timid, youth filled voice appeared behind your shoulder, hand outstretched with your coat grasped between his fingers.

You sniffled, turning to face him and quickly wiped at your brewing tears with the back of your hand. “Thank you, Joel.” You whispered, fingers brushing his gently as you removed your coat from his grasp.

He nearly shied from your touch, a series of tingles and sparks shooting up his spine when he felt your soft touch for the first time. You reacted all the same; shocked gazes meeting before he was stepping to the side for you to pass by him first, a gentleman in nature despite coming from nothing. He cleared his throat, offering you his elbow to brace against the pounding rain and blustering winds. “I’ve got you, miss.” He whispered as your palm gently rested along the crook of his elbow.

Despite your mother’s incessant protests, Joel Miller guided you outside, acting as a physical shield as you endured the storm together. Once inside the safety of the barn, Joel parted from your side, grabbing a nearby stool for you to sit upon before entering Dahlia’s stall. You watched in pure curiosity and amazement as Joel spoke softly to the mare while her head rested in his lap. Beast trusted man; man trusted beast.

When Dahlia’s foal was born, she was not blessed with a strong colt like your father hoped for, but instead a filly. She was smaller than Dahlia’s other foals, and coal black unlike her mother’s dazzling, dappled silver coat. Joel helped the young filly stand on her long, spindly legs so that she could nurse. He was incredibly gentle, letting the filly lean her weight into him. Although Joel knew he was not allowed to name the horses, he started to call the filly ‘Little Shadow’ and only left the stall when he was certain she could stand on her own.

That’s when he remembered he wasn’t alone, and that you were still sitting upon the stool, hands clasped in your lap.

“Wanna meet her?” He suddenly asked, wiping his hands down on a nearby towel.

“Oh…” you trailed off, “I’m unsure if—”

“Nonsense.” He shook his head, a small, boy-like grin tugging on his lips. “M’sure your father would want you to have the full experience, would he not?”

“Yes, I suppose he would.” You agreed and graciously took his hand when he offered it. “He will be displeased to hear that Dahlia did not bear a strong colt.”

“I never understood that.” He mused, helping you down from the stool and gently released your hand. “A healthy foal, no matter the sex, is better than an unhealthy one, is it not?”

“Yes, this is true.” You nervously toyed with a loose thread on your coat, avoiding making eye contact with him. “She is…small though, is she not?”

He took no offense to your lack of direct eye contact. He felt undeserving to be in your presence, let alone hold your gaze? “Forgive me if this comes across negatively, miss. But must you always speak so…proper?”

You turned your nose up at his question, dropping the loose thread from your fingertips, “I am to be a lady, Joel. This is how ladies talk.”

He snorted under his breath, shaking his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I suppose you are right. And to answer your question, she may be smaller than the rest of Dahlia’s offspring, but her legs are long, and strong.” He commented thoughtfully as he walked over to the nursing foal. “She will be a winner one day, no doubt.”

“Do you wish to name her, Joel?” You asked softly, standing alongside him with your hand outstretched to gently pet the fillies jet black neck.

“Oh, miss—I could never. I was only calling her Little Shadow because well, she is like a Little Shadow.”

“I don’t think father would approve of Little Shadow…but I think Shadow is a fine name for her, sir.”

“Miss, I am not a sir.” He sighed, reaching behind him to rub the back of his neck. “I’m just a stable hand. I do not possess any titles, and I never will. I agree, Shadow is a fine name for her.”

“Joel, I have heard that you are more than just a stable hand, but I address every man as sir. It’s how I have been taught.”

He looked over at you, eyes scanning the side of your face, the same side where your cheek had been struck by your mothers cruel hand. “That it be true, I am not a man, miss. I am just a boy.”

Silence fell between the two of you while you continued to gently stroke Shadow’s neck. You could feel Joel’s gaze landing on your cheek, but you chose to ignore it despite the heat that was slowly beginning to rise to your cheeks.

“Miss…?” He sounded unsure of himself, nervous, apprehensive of the words he was about to speak next,

“Yes, Joel?”

“Forgive me, I should not be uttering these words to a lady like yourself, but the bows in your hair…I thought they were quite—pretty.” He whispered the last bit, expecting you to scold him, to scream, and surely send him to the gallows for even thinking of you in that inappropriate manner, but instead, you smiled softly.

“Thank you, Joel. Mother…doesn’t approve of them. Says they are for little girls, and not for a lady to be. But they are just ribbons, are they not? I like how they look, and I wish she did too.” You sighed, eyes casting downwards.

He was more bold this time around as the images of your mothers hand making contact with your soft cheek flashes in his mind, “she should have never laid a hand upon you like that, miss. You did nothing wrong! Forgive me—I have forgotten my place.” He dropped his chin between his shoulders in shame.

You wept then, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at the phantom sting of your mothers palm. You slowly sank down into the straw bed, head in your hands. You looked so small, frail, weak, and Joel never wanted you to feel this way again.

At first he didn’t know how to react to your distress, but soon he found himself sinking down to his knees in front of you, his hands trembling as he reached out to grasp your covered shoulders, “my dearest, do not weep, please. Your mother has never learned kindness in her life, but you? You—” he struggled to find his words, his empathetic nature coming out in full swing.

You slowly tilted your chin upwards to meet his gaze, glassy eyes boring into his. You both took a sharp inhale of breath, time seemed to cease completely. The storm outside raged on, the wind whipped and howled outside the heavy barn doors when Joel Miller’s calloused palms gently cradled your face, thumbs brushing away your glistening tears.

1842

Spring turned to summer, summer to fall, and fall to winter. Your Joel transformed into a man before your very eyes. In your youth he showed you how to run, to make mud pies, to swim in the river, despite your mothers disapproval. Your father showed an inkling of care to allow your years before marriage to be spent with Joel by your side.

On the approach of your sixteenth birthday, Joel Miller no longer looked like a boy in your eyes. He was a man, and for the first time in your life, you felt that forbidden part between your thighs come alive at the sight of him. He had grown taller, his arms filling in, paired with strong thighs. The muscles in his back and shoulders were defined with laborious hours of work. His chiseled jaw was speckled with facial hair, paired with unruly curls that you wished you could feel their softness between your fingers. You found yourself transfixed by his lips and often imagined how they would feel pressed to yours in a heated embrace. The only thing about your Joel that didn’t change with age was his eyes; the deepest pools of brown that always appeared lighter when he was graced with your presence.

Your father treated him like a son, inviting him out on the weekends to go fox hunting with your brothers. The prospect of attending college was even on the horizon for him, and Joel could taste his new life brewing on his tongue. His feelings grew for you over the years, feeling his heart flutter and clench whenever you would look his way. Even in your modest attire, he envisioned your womanly figure beneath your layers of tooled skirts. Every night before he laid his body to sleep, he would imagine your lips pressing to his own until the thought of it had begun to drive him mad.

So upon your sixteenth birthday, he approached your father in his office with only one thought on his mind; asking for your fathers permission, and blessing to court, and eventually marry you.

“Come in.” Your father’s voice rasped behind the closed door.

Joel took a deep breath, rubbing his sweaty palms along the front of his trousers, bringing one hand up to smooth down his untamed curls. His calloused palm grasped the brass handle and slowly pushed it open.

Your father was seated behind his desk, cigar smoke wafting through the air in a swirling pattern from where it rested between his lips. He looked at Joel expectantly, arms crossed behind his head in a lax position. “Joel, my boy. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Joel stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him softly. He momentarily glanced out a large window overlooking the gardens where in just a few hours, your party would be in full swing. “Good afternoon, sir.” He nodded curtly, “beautiful day we’re having, yes? The weather will be exceptional for your daughter's birthday this evening.”

My Dearest.

“Yes, indeed. The weather has been lovely.” Your father mused. “If you’re asking if you can attend tonight’s festivities, you already know my answer, Joel. The lady of the house wouldn’t stand for it.” He waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

“Yes, of course, sir. I won’t be on the grounds this evening. A few friends have invited me to the tavern for drinks. I won’t be out late, I swear it.”

“I see.” Your father nodded, “a handsome young man such as yourself oughta get out there more.” He agreed, “So, what are you here for then?”

Shit.

“Sir, I have—known your daughter for many years now, as you are aware. I am also aware that she has many suitors lined up to offer her hand in marriage, but sir, if I was given your blessing, and permission, I would—”

“Joel.” Your father’s tone cut through the younger man like a sharpened blade. “My daughter has already been promised to another. Do not take me for a fool, boy. I have seen the way your gaze lingers on her longer than what would even be described as appropriate. I see the way she looks at you, Joel. I have bit my tongue on this matter because I happen to like you, son. What I can offer you is another lady, at your choosing. You can live a happy, comfortable life and hold a title that you would never otherwise possess. My suggestion is that you accept my generous offer, and throw away your fantasy of ever marrying my daughter.”

Joel swallowed his disappointment down with a heavy gulp. He was naive to believe that he could ever be granted with your fathers blessing. How foolish of him to believe that a man such as himself, would ever end up with the likes of you. It was a fantasy, an unattainable dream that he was better off extinguishing now instead of dwelling on what could never be. He nodded slowly, trying to ignore the way his heart submerged to the very pits of his stomach. “I understand, sir.” He finally spoke.

“Good lad. I knew you were a smart one from the start. Now, this stays between you and I, alright?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. You didn’t hear this from me, but the lady of the house plans to retire early this evening. If you see the opportunity to whisk my daughter away for one evening, take it. If it sours, do not even think about taking me down with you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Sir?” Joel sounded confused, his eyes going wide momentarily, “I’m confused—”

“Treat my daughter to a night that she will never forget, so that in her later years, when she is in misery after bearing her husband's children, and finds herself in a loveless marriage, she will have her memories of you to look back on. Do not, and I mean by any means, get caught and throw your life away so foolishly.”

“I—I understand, sir.” He stuttered out, his heart lurching in his chest at the prospect of one evening with you in his embrace. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.” He gushed earnestly.

“Leave now, Joel. Do not speak of this to anyone.”

“I won’t, sir. I promise.”

All evening you danced merrily and socialized with the upper socialites of Texas with a fake smile plastered on your pretty painted lips. You searched high and low for your Joel all evening. Your gaze lingered, heart skipping a beat anytime a man that resembled him would stride past, only to be met with bitter disappointment when they would turn their cheek towards you and the resemblance would dissipate like the bubbles in your champagne flute. Your mother had retired for the evening, and your father was in his parlor with his colleagues, smoking, drinking, and playing hands of poker.

And then you felt a presence brush past your bare shoulder, the skirts of your dress ruffling in the warm summer breeze. A shred of parchment was placed into your palm discreetly as you watched the inconspicuous figure disappear in the direction of the nearby stables. Once you were certain no one was paying any attention to you, you unfolded parchment, your heart surging at the familiar penmanship.

My Dearest,

Happy sixteenth birthday. Meet me at the stables in exactly one hour.

Your Joel

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the butterflies erupted and fluttered wildly in your stomach, Your Joel. You brought the parchment to your lips, kissing his words, your lashes fluttering shut.

As the minutes ticked by, your excitement heightened, and when it was ten minutes to the hour, you snuck off to the stables with a visible pep in your step. The barn door was left ajar upon your entering, and when you turned the corner, you found your Joel inside of Shadow’s stall, bows and flowers were braided delicately throughout her luscious mane and tail. When he sensed your presence, he turned around, the biggest grin plastered on his face, dimples peeking through, one stray curl falling across his forehead that was begging to be brushed away by your soft fingertips.

“Joel.” You breathed out, smile mimicking his own.

“My Dearest.” His heart surged in his chest, and then you were launching yourself into his arms unexpectedly. He caught you, of course, hugging you tightly to his broad frame. “No one saw you, right?”

“No.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands fell to your waist. “Shadow looks beautiful! What’s the occasion?”

He chuckled warmly, tilting his forehead to rest upon yours with a sigh of relief, “she doesn’t look nearly as beautiful as you, darlin.’ And why for your birthday, of course!”

His warm, timbre laugh sent your stomach somersaulting, and your mind feeling dizzy. “An evening ride through the countryside, is that my present from you?” You teased him lightly, threading your fingers through the back of his hair.

“No, no, my sweet. It’s actually…a surprise. Are you up for it? Oh! You’ll be needing these, however.” He reluctantly departed from your embrace, stepping off to the side to lift a rucksack from the ground. “I believe they’re your size.”

You raised a curious brow as he handed the rucksack off to you. “You mean, I get an excuse to wear something outside of my fine dresses?” You gasped softly.

“Mhm.” He nodded, smile playing on his lips at your pure excitement over something so small. “I’ll uh—give you some privacy to change.” He cleared his throat, eyes dancing in the direction opposite of you as he turned on his heel so his back would be facing you.

Secretly, you wanted him to see you undress from your obnoxious layers and reveal your untouched skin to his admiring gaze. The times that you would swim in the river together were different. You were both still children, and your womanly curves hadn’t made their appearance just yet.

He silently listened to your fine skirts fall to the dusty barn floor and he was half tempted to peek, but remained respectful as you undressed. Once you gave him the okay, he slowly turned around to face you once more. Gone were your frilly heavy skirts that dragged along the floor with each step that you took. Your skirt was still long, but not as weighted and while the bodice was still fairly constricting, the sleeves were dainty and hung off the side of your shoulders like silk drapery. Your mother would certainly have a fit if she saw you dressed so un-modestly.

“So…” You trailed off, “how do I look?” You twirled on your heel, your smile never faltering.

He unashamedly looked you up and down, twice, before one strong arm looped around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, caging you against him.

“Pardon my French, mademoiselle, but you look fuckin’ stunning.”

You giggled, hands resting against his chest to brace yourself against him. It was the sweetest sound that had ever graced his ears; your laugh.

“Thank you, sir. Mother would scold me if she saw me dressed like this!” You giggled again when his nose came to nuzzle against your cheek, bristles in his beard gently scraping against your skin, “she would, my dearest. But don’t worry about any of that, okay? Tonight you will have the time of your life with me, and your mother will have no say in it.” He assured you.

—

You rode into town on horseback, Shadow moving swiftly with Joel steering her with the reins and you behind him with your arms wrapped around him, pressing yourself as close to his back as possible. You had never been to a tavern before, but tonight would certainly be a night of firsts.

Your first sips of Ale were with Joel by your side, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned over, warm breath fanning your face as he asked you what you thought about the taste.

Truthfully? Ale was not your first drink of choice, but you had an understanding for the appeal of it. Joel agreed, and whispered in your ear that he thought it tasted like shit. His tone and crude remark sent you giggling in tandem.

Now, whiskey on the other hand? You enjoyed the smoky flavor that lingered on your tongue and the way it instantly sent a warm fire simmering in your belly, and heat to flood your cheeks. You danced, laughed, drank and you even played a hand of poker! No one in the tavern knew of your status, your wealth. Everyone in the rowdy establishment was just there living, and you silently wished for your life to always be this freeing.

When the tavern closed for the night, you and Joel strolled down the street, hand in hand. The late evening air held that familiar summer sweetness, crickets chirping, fireflies dancing around your heads. Another pair of lovers strolled in front of you and Joel, seemingly unable to keep their hands off of one another as they neared the town inn. Would that be you and your Joel?

His palm felt clammy in your palm, but his face gave no distinction that he was absolutely freaking the fuck out inside at the prospect of finally getting the privilege to press his lips to yours.

“Shadow is staying at the inn’s barn for the evening, my dearest. It’s far too late for either of us to return back to the estate…” he trailed off, eyes casting in your direction to await your response.

“Joel…” you sighed, loosening your grip around his hand, nearly dropping it entirely. “We—we have to go back. Father, mother—”

“My dearest, your mother has retired early for the evening, and your father is probably too deep in a hand of poker to even notice your absence.” He spoke softly, slowly bringing your entwined fingers up to his face, illuminated in a soft, warm glow from the flickering street lights lining the walkway. He brushed his lips against the outside of your hand, eyes locking onto yours, “I understand if you don’t desire me the way I desire you, my dearest. And if that is the case, we can leave immediately—”

“I—I desire you plenty, my Joel. All evening at the party, I kept seeing the resemblance of your beautiful face in every male passerby, but none of them were you. I’m just—I’m so afraid, Joel. My heart—it feels so deeply for you, but it’s forbidden. You and I both know the bitter truth of what we can never be.”

“My dearest, tonight we need not be afraid, okay? It is your birthday, your special day, and there is nowhere else in this world that I would rather be, than here with you. I ask you for nothing, only to trust me. Trust your Joel.”

You could feel yourself caving into his words, your body drawn to be closer to him as if by some invisible force pulling you into his chest. “I trust you always, my Joel.”

He nodded, pressing another sweet kiss to the outside of your hand. You moved in sync, his strong, broad body caging you against the brick wall of the inn, his hands, calloused and warm, holding your face between them as if you were fine delicate china. His forehead came to rest upon yours, warm breath fanning your face, “can I kiss you, my dearest?”

“Please, my Joel.” You breathed out, fingers gently resting along the nape of his neck. “You—you will be my first.” You whispered.

“And you will be mine, my dearest.” He rasped, thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones, feeling his heartbeat faster, and faster, when his lips finally brushed upon your own, both of your inexperience showing, but nature took over when your lips finally met, pressing against one another. Your breath hitched in your throat, fingers tightening around his soft curls, pulling him in closer. You wanted to crawl inside his skin, make a home inside of his heart and never leave.

“I—have never felt a sweetness upon my lips till I have kissed you, my dearest.” He murmured sweetly against your locked lips, taking the leap of what felt right when your lips parted like the narrow sea for him to slowly lick into your mouth so your tongues could meet, and dance.

An unexpected moan slipped past your lips when he licked into your mouth, a sound only for his ears, sending blood flowing southwards beneath his trousers and directly to his groin. He parted from the kiss momentarily, a string of translucent saliva hung between your swollen lips. He dived back in seconds later, but this time you felt his lips upon your neck, sucking, kissing, licking at your throat and all the way back up to your lips.

“I scraped up enough money to afford us a night at the inn, my dearest.” He let out a soft grunt when your nails lightly scratched his scalp, and your fingers tugged on the root of his curls, “do you wish to—”

“Yes, my Joel.” You didn’t even wait for him to finish his question, you already knew your answer was going to be yes.

He chuckled at your eagerness, letting his hands drop from your face and rest along your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, “lay beside me tonight, my love?”

“Yes, my Joel. I wish for that.”

He smiled into the kiss, the butterflies in his own stomach were no longer fluttering wildly, his nerves were gone because never in his life had he been more sure about his feelings till now. It was a moment of calm that both you and he felt in one another’s embrace. “Then let it be known that tonight, beneath the stars, I will make love to you, my dearest.” The words he spoke fell like a sweet oath upon your lips.

You kissed him once more, before your lips parted, but only for a little while. He took your hand in his, fingers entwined and led you to the entrance of the inn. The room was paid for, and the excitement was beginning to tingle once more as he unlocked the door to the room you would share. A single bed to accommodate you both.

And when he laid you down, fitting in the space between your thighs, kissing every inch of your untouched skin, drawing sounds from your throat that you had never felt, nor heard before. Calloused palms moved with languid ease, undressing you with methodical care. You did the same to him, marveling at the flex of his muscles beneath your touch. He was so gentle, so patient as you parted for him like a blooming flower. He kissed you there, too. Dark head of curls moving between your thighs, strong fingers spreading you open where his tongue quickly found the little bud that had your whole body quivering, and your back bowing, arching from the mattress.

He kissed, licked, worshiped, suckled on your womanhood, the taste of you was something so foreign, yet familiar, and his cock grew heavy between his thighs, hips rutting into the mattress for any form of relief.

Your speech was slurred, broken, fragmented moans dangling from your lips, and you were only able to say one word; his name.

Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel.

And when the coil in deep within your tummy was pulled tight, and a burning warmth that could only be described as the feeling of heaven on earth, traveled from the tips of your toes and up your spine, you convulsed around his tongue, eyes rolling back into your skull, muscles spasming, your cunt pulsing, leaking along the sheets. He lapped up every sweet drop of your release, swallowing it down as if he was quenched with thirst. His eyes opened, dark pools of brown staring intensely into yours, grinning like a devil. His chin and beard glistening in your sweet nectar, illuminated by the pale moonlight casting in through the thin, billowing curtains.

He kissed up your body, finding your lips and molding his tongue around yours so you could taste yourself, too. He whispered sweet nothings between kisses when the heavy weight of his cock slowly began to press into you. Tears sprung from the sudden sharp pain caused by the stretch of him easing inside of you. He kissed away your tears, shushing you softly and promising you that it would feel good so soon, my dearest.

Your nails left crescents in his back, thighs wrapping around his waist when he was fully sheathed inside of your pulsing, hugging warmth. It was the tightest vice he ever did feel, and he never wanted to part from you.

“I’ve got you, my dearest.” He whispered upon your lips, drawing his hips back slowly, oh so slowly, before guiding them forward. The coarse dark hair on his pubic bone brushed against your own with each gentle thrust he gave you. A rhythm set in with his movements, your body naturally began to mold to his as you became one. Sweat soaked skin, tangled moans and limbs, wet kisses and words of love shared between what little space was left between you.

And when he spilled his seed deep within your womb, and he moaned your name, proclaiming his love and devotion for you with his face buried against your neck. You refused to part from one another, even as his cock softened inside of you, and your cunt no longer fluttered. You pressed your lips to his scruffy cheek, tangled your fingers through his now sweat soaked curls that were matted to his forehead and back of his neck. You held him, and he held you as the sun slowly began to rise, and the birds chirped cheerfully just outside the window.

“I don’t want to go home, my Joel. I want to stay here, with you…forever.” You whispered softly through the early morning air.

He shifted deep within you, lifting his chin and turned his cheek to the side, brushing his lips sweetly against your soft cheek. His eyes were sleepy, a dopey, boyish grin graced his features, lips curved in a perfect pout, swollen with your kisses, “I need not yet to part from you, my love. But I must return you home before your father and mother awake.”

You sighed softly, dropping your fingers from their grip on his hair to then drag across his jaw, nuzzling your nose against his and pressed a kiss to his lips, “our home, my Joel.” You gently reminded him.

He kissed you back, lashes fluttering shut to savor the moment before opening again so he could once again gaze upon your face and paint a picture in his memory to hold onto forever, “our home, my dearest.”

Reality began to rear its ugly head into both of your minds and he reluctantly parted from your kiss, drawing his hips back slowly to release his cock from your warmth. “We must return home, my dearest.” He sat back on his haunches, his softened cock wet, sticky with a mix of your combined releases and a thin layer of blood.

You slowly sat up, taking the coarse sheet with you as you gazed upon his groin for the first time. Even soft now, your sex induced eyes widened at the girth of him.

He, however, was more focused on the stain of blood on his skin, and swiped his thumb across it before his gaze landed on you, “have you…bled before, my sweet?”

You nodded, “yes, my Joel. I bleed the same time every month since my thirteenth birthday. Mother told me that it means I am ready to bear children, and I have become a woman. She told me that I would bleed again when my husband makes love to me for the first time.”

His chin falls between his shoulders, feeling them sink from the realization that he would never be your husband, and you would never be his wife. “Does it hurt…to bleed? Did I hurt you, my love?”

You shook your head, letting the sheets drop from your chest as you reached out to comfort him. “No, my love. It can be uncomfortable, but you did not hurt me. A dull sting is all I felt, nothing more. You took care of me.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently as you emerged from under the covers, “my dearest, what is to happen if…you end up bearing my children? We are both so young, I wish not to steal what remains of your youth. You deserve so much more than only what is expected of you, my lady.”

You found yourself straddling his hips with your thighs on either side of him, caging his body around yours while his arms wrapped around your waist, using his core strength to stay upright as your hands came to rest upon his face, “if I bear your children, then we could marry, Joel. We could—be together!” You spoke excitedly.

“My dearest, I—have nothing to offer you. I am penniless…we are not of the same status, and your mother and father would never allow it.” His thumbs gently stroked the dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine.

“I will speak with my father! He will understand, he must! No man will ever wish to marry me if I am bearing another’s child! Father—he’ll have to agree!”

“My dearest, what if my seed doesn’t take to your womb the first time? What if we are unable—”

You cut him off with a swift kiss to his lips, pulling him in close with your hand resting along the nape of his neck, “then we keep trying till my womb is swelling with life.”

He kissed you deeply, feeling his cock begin to stir to life between your tightly pressed bodies. He nodded, a silent agreement as he dropped one hand from where it rested against your spine and dragged it between you so that he could grasp the base of his cock and slowly press himself inside of you once more.

By the time you and Joel arrived back at the estate, the sun was already beginning to rise high above the sky. The stables were empty upon your arrival as Joel helped you dismount from Shadow. He urged you to change back into your attire that you wore to the party so that your mother, nor father would raise their suspicions. You parted ways with a kiss, a longing behind his lips as he watched you leave his embrace and walk back into the life you had always known.

At the breakfast table your mother was quick to question why you were not present in your chambers at sunrise, but you already had a rehearsed script planned in your mind. Without missing a beat, you told the story of how you had a few too many flutes of champagne, and fell asleep in the gardens.

Your mother, of course, scolded you, but your father? He had a hidden, knowing smile playing beneath his mustache.

You and Joel were extremely cautious and strategic when it came to planning your rendezvous. They happened frequently, under the cover of night when everyone was sleeping. Sometimes in the stables, sometimes in the gardens, and you even returned to the inn a few times in secret. He could not get enough of you, your kisses, or your touch. The feeling was mutual, and you both knew that the deep, profound feelings you were both experiencing was not infatuation or lust, no, you and Joel Miller were madly, deeply, tragically in love with one another.

Even in the daytime he would seek your presence, asking your father if he could accompany you on a ride through the countryside as your guide, and protector. You had picnics by the river where he would lay his head upon your skirts, eyes closed blissfully as he listened to you read love stories from Shakespeare till he would drift off, soft snores escaping his lips, your voice lulling him to a sweet slumber. Your horses would graze side by side, his stallion, your mare. Their tails swishing to fight off the pesky flies.

Upon the approach of your eighteenth birthday, you wept in Joel’s arms, for no matter how many times he spilled his seed inside of you, your womb did not swell with life; his child. You feared that his love for you would sour and rot when you broke the mournful news to him beneath comfort of the shimmering moon, and twinkling stars.

“My dearest, why do you weep? Who, or what has caused my sweet love to shed her tears?” He sank to his knees with you crumbling in his arms. His heart felt like it was being shredded to fragmented pieces when your sobs echoed off the nearby hedges in the garden where your embrace was hidden.

“My Joel!” You cried, clawing at his arms with fat, heavy tears streaming down your cheeks, “I—I’m so sorry. I have let you down, my love.”

“My dearest, how have you let me down? Tell me what is wrong! What has happened?” He spoke urgently, tone hushed.

“My womb does not swell with life, Joel! We have tried, and tried! No matter how many times, it has been fruitless! I bear you no sons, no daughters—” you wailed mournfully.

“My sweet, are you certain of this? Oh, my girl…” he felt his own tears begin to prick his eyes as he began to gently rock you in his arms. “Do you weep in sadness, or in fear? I do not care that you cannot bear me any children, my dearest. My love for you will never sour.”

“Do not lie to me, lover!” You were on the edge of snapping through your tears, “when my sole purpose in this life is to marry and bear children to my husband! There must be something wrong with me, Joel! How can you say you love me when I cannot be the woman I am expected to be! I never can fucking—”

You surprised yourself and him by your sudden crude language, but then again, spending as much time as you did with Joel, his verbiage began to rub off on you, and yours onto him.

“Then don’t be the woman you are expected to be, my love! There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing, do you hear me? I love you as you are! You are my lady, for fucks sakes! You can be whoever you want to be with me! Do you wish to be a poet? Be one! Do you wish to be a scholar? A singer? Do you wish to live a normal life where your choices are not already chosen for you?!” His voice cracked, coming out as a hoarse rasp deep from within his chest.

You fought the urge to scoff and chide him for being so naive. “My life will never be normal! Don’t you understand?! All I know is what has been chosen for me! It doesn’t matter what I want, Joel! I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth! My studies, my thoughts, opinions, have all been predisposed! Even the fucking food I consume, and the clothing on my back has been chosen for me!”

“Of course I understand! All I have ever done is understand that you and I were never cut from the same cloth! And yet, I love you all the same because what else is a man to do? My sweet, we are weeks away from your eighteenth birthday! We can run away together and carve out the life of our choosing! Fuck your parents, fuck the society we live in! Do you want to marry a man you don’t love and live in misery?! Or do you want the chance to live! To wake up at your choosing, to wear what you desire, to love freely with no prejudice? To never again live under your parents control? Don’t you want to…love me?” He was exasperated, chest heaving, nostrils flaring from the pure passion oozing from his words.

You fell silent, your lower lip wobbling, eyes glassy with tears as you looked into his eyes, taking in the redness in his cheeks, the puffing of his chest—the love pooling in his dark irises, “of course I want to love you, my Joel. I—I’m afraid! Can’t you see that? I’m expected to marry and bear my husband's children and now I cannot! If we run away together, I’ll never be able to return home! What if our love isn’t destined to make it! What if we fail—”

“Of course I can see you’re afraid, my girl. I see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice! You are safe here, with me. With your Joel! I would never, ever, ever let anything happen to you. We may not live a life of riches, but we would live a life rich in love! I—I can get a job! I will work until my bones break if it means that I get to be with you. I’ll work the railways, the mines! Any job that I can take, I will, and I’ll do it all for you.”

You kissed him then, tasting the salt from your own tears and his upon your locked lips. “We’ll move west! As far west as we can! We’ll see the ocean for the first time, plot out our land and live out our days together!” You murmured against his lips.

“California.” He promised you, kissing you deeply as his hands came to cradle your face, “a sheep ranch with Shadow and Sunfyre.”

“Why sheep, lover?” You asked softly between desperation filled kisses,

“They’re quiet, do as they're told.” He teased, chuckling when you gently swatted at his chest for making such a comment.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” You giggled, which soon turned into a moan when his fingers slipped down to your waist and hastily began to unlace your bodice, while your hand drifted downwards to undo the string on his trousers. Neither of you knew that one of your own ladies, the same lady that had been promised to Joel by your father, caught the two of you in the gardens while she was out for a midnight stroll. Her presence was undetected as you sank down around Joel’s cock beneath your skirts, moaning his name unashamedly as your entwined bodies moved in sync.

June 1st, 1844

“Yes, mother.” You responded in a practiced, complacent sweetness to appease her.

“He will make a fine husband to you, one day.” She added, her perfectly dainty fingers came to rest upon your shoulder, squeezing it with anything but a comforting touch. She didn’t notice the way your gaze lingered on your secret lover, nor did she sense your longing.

“Yes, he will, mother. I look forward to making his acquaintance.”

“Good. You have grown into being a fine young woman, daughter. Your father and I are so very proud of you.”

If only they knew that you were not the perfect, proper lady than they believed you to be, and that your heart belonged to another man.

Your Joel had requested a private audience with your father leading up to the festivities surrounding your monumental birthday. And so after bringing the horses in from the pasture, he made his way to your fathers office, closing the door quietly behind him when he was given permission to enter.

“Sir, I have wonderful news to bestow upon you, Shadow is expectin’. She was showin’ early signs a few weeks back, but it is official.”

“Wonderful news indeed, Joel. And who is the lucky stud?” Your father asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“Sunfyre, sir.”

“Ahh. What a combination. A filly, as black as the night, and a colt, as golden as the sun. I wonder what their offspring will look like.” He mused.

Joel swallowed the lump growing in his throat, his palms growing clammier by the second. He took a deep breath to calm his budding nerves, “Sir, I need to disclose something to you, but before I do, I just wanted to say that I have appreciated being able to confide in you in some capacity. I am grateful that you have taken me under your wing and offered me the chance at having a better life, but your daughter—”

“Joel.” He warned, leaning forward in his chair with his hands clasped together. “Be extremely careful with your choice in words for whatever it is you are about to tell me. Perhaps I need to remind you where your place is? Maybe I should have been wary of confiding in you, boy.”

“Sir, please. You must hear this! If you care about your daughter's happiness, and her well being, you will listen to what I have to say. I swear that our conversations have remained confidential! I have spoken about them to no one, I swear it!”

Your father let out a deep sigh, bringing his hands to his face where he pressed the pads of his fingers into the deep set wrinkles in his forehead. “Go on then.”

“Your daughter—she is unable to bear children. She is afraid of what is to become of her if she cannot bear children for her future husband, sir. And I fear for her as well! Sir, men are unkind, and she is sweet. She is sweet and kind and deserving—”

Your fathers heart slowly began to sink, his composure crumbled because of his darling little girl, who would certainly face a life of hardship and misery if you could not bear children and enact your duties as a perfect wife for your husband. He didn’t agree with it, but that was how society worked. Men ruled the house, and the women cared for their husbands and children. “How do you know of this, Joel?” Your fathers tone wavered, his eyes casting in Joel’s direction and he saw a younger version of himself in your forbidden lover.

“Sir, you know the answer to your own question.” Joel nearly whispered, avoiding direct eye contact and let his gaze fall to a portrait behind your fathers desk, two young men with their arms around one another’s shoulders.

“You love her, don’t you?” His question hung heavy in the air.

Joel froze like a deer that was inevitably caught by hunters in the meadow. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think as he listened to the sound of blood rushing in his ears and his pulse pounding, “with all of my heart, sir.”

Your father slowly nodded his head in understanding as he let out a sigh, “then you must know that you have to swallow down your feelings for my daughter for her benefit and your own. You are playing a dangerous game, Joel. One that could very well cost you your life.”

“I don’t fucking care. I have never loved another being outside of your daughter. Our love may be frowned upon and forbidden, but it is real. I have felt for her since I was just a mere boy, when the storm was raging outside and she accompanied me to see the birth of Dahlia’s foal. My love for her will never sour, it will never over ripen and rot like the low hanging fruit upon the trees. I have nothing to offer her but my heart, and that holds a weight more valuable than gold or silver.”

Your father smiled, one that did not reach his eyes as he slowly stood from his chair behind his desk and walked in front of it. “You remind me so much of my younger self, Joel. Willing to do anything for the person you love. Despite all the odds being stacked against you.”

Joel took a hesitant step back, the heel of his boot nearly catching along the rug, “do not patronize me, sir. I love your daughter, and nothing will stop me from loving her. Even after death, my love for her will remain.”

“Of course nothing will stop you, Joel. For what else is a man to do when he is in love?” He smiled sadly, a look of longing hidden behind his eyes. Joel knew the look all too well.

“I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“I’m going to tell you something that you have to swear you will never utter to anyone. It is a secret that you must take to your grave, Joel. You cannot even tell my daughter. Are we clear?”

“I swear I will not tell a single soul, sir. Not even your daughter will know.”

“Good, I trust you. You have a good heart, Joel.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Your father reached for his box of cigars, silently offering one to Joel who politely declined. It had been many, many, years since your father spoke about his past, and while he lit the end of the cigar, those memories began to surface. “I meant what I said when I told you that you remind me of my younger self.”

Joel nodded in understanding.

“When I was your age, the world was at my fingertips, Joel. It was my oyster, and I could have any lady of my choosing, but I had to marry. That was my parents one rule upon me was that I had to marry.”

“You could have any lady of your choosing, but it wasn’t a lady that held your affections, was it, sir?”

“No. It was not a lady that held my affections.”

“The man…in the portrait behind your desk, was he your…?”

“Yes, Joel. The man in the portrait was my lover. The butler's son nonetheless. I of course tried to appease my parents and court the finest lady in town, but my heart longed for my lover. We were going to run away together, Joel. It was all planned out, and I was ready to throw away my old life for him. It was, and still is taboo and forbidden to lay with the same sex. We were careful, until I came to him with the grave news that I would have to marry, and that we could no longer be together. He was angry, I was angry, we got reckless, and one night we were caught.”

“By…the lady of the house? Your now wife?”

He nodded, leaning back against the front of his desk, “yes, she was the one who caught us in the act, in my chambers. She screamed so loud, as if she was witnessing a murder! I begged her to keep her voice down but she wouldn’t listen. She was disgusted with me, and proclaimed that I would rot in eternal hell for the sins I committed.”

“What happened…to your lover, sir?”

“My own father nearly beat my lover to death in front of me. I was forced to watch the life drain from his eyes. I begged and begged for him to stop, to let him live! Maybe he would have, if it wasn’t for the lady of the house to spread a rumor that the butler's son came onto me against my will. My father didn’t want to believe that his son was a fairy, and so my lover was sentenced to hang. I visited him for the very last time when he was shackled, malnourished, and begging for death to take him. I stayed with him all night, praying that the sun would never rise. The following morning I was forced to watch him hang. Every single spectator in the crowd, except for me, cheered for the death of another fairy!” He used the back of his hand to swiftly wipe at his eyes when his tears began to well and roll down his cheeks.

“He was buried in an unmarked grave and I went through with marrying the lady of the house. I wasn’t given another choice, and on the night of our wedding, she whispered to me that she knew the truth, and that she wouldn’t hesitate to blackmail me for it.”

“I’m so sorry, sir. Your lover—you, I’m so sorry. I do not understand why people are so cruel and hateful. Love is love, is it not?”

“Please do not sympathize with me, Joel. I do not seek your sympathy. I am telling you this because if you do not swallow your feelings for my daughter, you will surely face the same fate that my lover did! Don’t you understand? She has been promised to another. She meets with the banker's son tonight and in time, they will be married. It is her duty and expectation. And you will have the choice to marry the lady I have chosen for you. Your love for my daughter will fade, and you will be grateful that it did.”

“How dare you! How dare you stand there—you coward! You could have been with your lover now if you had run away together! You had the opportunity, and didn’t seize it?! Don’t stand there and claim that my love for your daughter will fade, when yours for your dead lover has not! You stand there, weeping for him! Your life could have been different—”

Crack

Your fathers cruel fist made direct contact with Joel’s beautiful nose, the force of impact sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his face in despair as blood trickled and dripped between the grooves of his fingers, staining the golden threaded hearthrug in splotches of crimson.

“Get the fuck out of my office. It is clear that you have forgotten your place, boy. You will never marry the likes of my daughter.”

Joel retreated through the office doors with what remained of his dignity. He confided in your father purely out of trust, and he thought it was a mutual feeling. For the rest of the afternoon, leading into the evening, you did not see your Joel.

The banker’s son was polite, well-mannered, but goodness—was he a bore. You had no interest in hearing him drone on about the stock market in New York City. He didn’t bother to ask you about you, or your interests as they were already predisposed by your mother.

Fucking cunt.

He strolled with you in the gardens with your hand lightly grasping onto his elbow. Your eyes wandered off, in search for that familiar stature, and head of distinguishable dark curls as you passed by the stables, but your Joel was nowhere to be found. Your heart sank and you asked the banker’s son, Timothy, if he would mind giving you a moment of privacy in the garden's gazebo. He obliged, but not before he could press an affectionate kiss to the outside of your hand. The bristles in his perfectly groomed mustache tickled your skin before he reluctantly pulled away.

You let out a sigh of relief, your posture returning to a relaxed state as you watched him walk back towards the festivities inside. When you were certain that he was not lingering, you began to nervously pace the short distance inside of the gazebo, muttering about how Joel would never just leave you like this, would he?

Where the fuck was he?

Then you heard it, the groaning of the tired wood beneath his boots, and that warm, deep rasp in his voice. “My dearest.” He croaked, and you immediately knew something was wrong, something had happened. His voice sounded far more nasally, and when you turned around to face him, that’s when you noticed the dry, crusted blood beneath his fractured nose, the rusted blood stains in his white shirt. You ran to him, delicately cradling his beautiful face in your palms.

“My Joel!” You cried, “what has happened? Who has done this to you! Your nose—your beautiful nose!”

“Hush, my darling. It’s—just a fracture, lover. It will heal.” He lowered his tone to a whisper, his hands slowly coming to rest around your waist. “It does not matter who did this to me, my dearest.”

“How can you say such a thing? Joel, please, my love, who did this to you?” You softly begged, thumbs gently stroking the scruff speckled on his strong jaw.

“Your father.” He murmured, bitterness laced in his words.

“What?” You murmured in disbelief, dropping your hands from his face, refusing to believe it. “Why would he do such a thing to you! Joel, please, please tell me what happened!”

“My love, please promise you will not hate me for what I am about to utter. Swear to me that you won’t.” He pleaded, tightening his grip around your waist in fear that you would slip between his fingers like grains of sand.

“I swear it.”

“He knows about us, my dearest. He knows that I love you, and you love me. He knows that you cannot bear children because I am the one who confided in him this afternoon. I did it in hopes that he would understand, and stop the banker's son from courting you tonight. I—I thought maybe we wouldn’t have to run away, and we would be accepted as lovers!”

“Oh Joel, they will never accept us! You stupid, stupid, beautiful little fool.” You sniffled sadly, feeling your tears oncoming. “You are too good for this world and everyone in it! Your heart is made of pure gold, and I love you for it, but now you have put yourself in grave danger! That was so fucking stupid of you to do, lover.”

“My sweet, I may be a fool, but what else is a man to do when he is in love? Your father knows, yes, but now we must seize our opportunity to leave, tonight! The party is in full swing, is it not? No one will notice your absence, my dearest. If we don’t leave tonight, I fear we will never have another chance at eternal happiness.”

You swallow down your tears, melting into his embrace and his words. “The banker’s son waits for me inside, it will be suspicious if I do not return to him within the hour…” you trailed off.

“Are you having your doubts, my love?”

“No, no! Of course not. I am in fear that we will be caught if we aren’t careful, my Joel. I will return to him and you will go to my chambers. Lock the doors and do not open them for anyone. Take the back entrance, through the kitchens! No one will see you, I swear it.” You reached for his hands on your waist, interlocking your fingers through his.

“And you? I cannot fathom thinking of the banker’s son touching—”

“My Joel, please do not allow your thoughts to sour. I am expected to dance with him and when the timing is right, I will come find you. I promise.”

He nodded, bringing your clasped hands up to his face so he could kiss your knuckles, wincing from the dull ache in his nose.

“Together?” He murmured, eyes locking onto yours.

“Always.”

You parted ways after he kissed you, promising you that all this pain would be worth it in the end, and of course, you believed him, for what else is a girl to do when she is in love?

You returned to Timothy’s side, assuring him that you just needed to be alone with your thoughts. He was an understanding man, and you could understand why your father assumed that he would be a perfect match for you, but no one would ever be your Joel. And while you danced, and made small talk with him and his friends, Joel was making his way through the kitchens, ducking into one of the main hallways, muscle memory guiding him the way to your chambers, but unbeknownst to him, he was being followed.

It was a quarter to midnight and your lover could hear the party growing rowdier by the minute even behind your locked doors. He grew weary, doubts settling into his mind that perhaps you had forgotten him. Perhaps you were having a good time with the fucking bankers son. His spirits lifted when he heard the sound of a key being inserted in the lock. He sprung up from the edge of your perfectly made up bed, heart racing in his chest when the doors opened.

His face fell, blood running ice cold when the person revealed behind the door was not you, but the lady who was promised to him by your father. He took a step back, palms growing clammy.

“How did I know that you would be lingering in her chambers, Joel?” She closed the doors behind her and locked them for good measure. “What would her father say if he knew you were in here…hmm?”

“You fucking followed me here, didn’t you, Lady Florence?” He seethed, feeling like an animal trapped in the corner with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

“Because you were promised to me, or have you forgotten?” She cocked a brow in his direction, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I never approached you. Never even attempted to court you. Just because her father promised me to you, doesn’t fucking mean shit until actions are taken after words.” He snapped.

“I suppose, but then again, you’re in a not so favorable position, Joel. Trespassing after hours, and in his daughter's chambers nonetheless? I’m almost certain you would hang for such a crime.” She mused, stepping closer to where he had tucked himself nearly into a corner closest to the window. “Perhaps he would love to hear how I caught you and his daughter fucking in the gardens a few weeks back. How truly reckless of you both.” She tsked.

He scoffed at her attempt at blackmailing him in such a petty way. “Your threats are made in vain. Her father already knows about my love for his daughter. He’s well aware, and you look fucking desperate and pathetic at your attempt to blackmail me.”

“Blackmail you? Joel, you have me all wrong!” She laughed, “I don’t have the heart to blackmail you!”

“Then what the fuck do you call what you just attempted to do, hmm? Don’t take me for a fool! You are nothing but a jealous little—”

“Joel? It’s me, my love. I don’t have my key…someone must have nicked it!” You whispered through the outside of the closed door, looking around the vacant hallway anxiously. “Are you in there?”

He strode past Florence, shoulder checking her on his way to the door and quickly unlocked it, ushering you inside before closing and locking it again.

Your eyes landed on his face, and then trailed over his shoulder to Florence, one of your ladies, who you had believed up until this point was loyal, and not a conniving little—

“Lady Florence? What are you doing in my chambers? What is going on?!”

Joel reached for bare forearm with a gentle grip to pull you back. “My dearest, it isn’t what you think! Lady Florence is the one who nicked your key and followed me to your chambers! She cornered me, threatened me with blackmail, and claimed that she caught you and I in the gardens weeks ago!”

“Is this true?” You felt saddened, betrayed, and disappointed. “Flo, how could you do such a thing to me? I thought we were friends!”

“My lady—he lies! I never would steal from you, he is the one to corner me! He sought me out, forcing me into your chambers—” she lied between her teeth, digging herself in a graver hole than she was planning.

“LIAR!” you yelled, ripping your arm from Joel’s grasp, “he would never lay a hand on a lady, nor pressure her! You speak only of lies Florence!”

“Lover! We do not have the time for this! We have to go, we have to go now!” Joel urged you from behind, reaching for your arm again. “She isn’t worth it! Please, we must—”

And then you heard your fathers voice booming down the hall. Your biggest fear was coming true, and now there was nowhere for you or Joel to hide when the doors bursted open, the locking mechanism snapping in half from the force of your father.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He demanded.

Lady Florence, being the snake in the grass that she was, immediately flocked to your fathers side. “Sir! You arrived just in time!” She said exasperatedly, “Your daughter was in her chambers freshening up and I went to go check on her, being the good friend that I am, when I heard her dreadful scream! I came upon the heinous crime of the filthy stable hand taking your daughter against her will!” She wept her crocodile tears. “He threatened to—”

Your father wasn’t buying it for he knew that Florence was a terrible liar, and a rotten friend. “Lady Florence, this does not concern you. Return to the party immediately, and speak this to no one.”

“But sir—”

“GET OUT!” He yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at her. She narrowed her eyes at both you and Joel before slinking out of the room, closing the doors behind her.

You immediately stepped in front of Joel, silently vowing to protect him no matter what would happen, you would not allow your father to harm another hair upon your lover's head.

“Daddy, please, I love him! Please, let us be! I know it goes against what is expected of me, but Joel is a good man! He has only ever been good to me, father!”

“Your mother will never allow it, daughter. All Joel has done is tempted you and filled your head with fantasies! You have been promised to the banker's son and that is final! You think of me to be cruel, but I am only doing what is best for you!”

“I do not care what you think is best for me, father! I do not want to marry the banker's son! I wish to be happy with my one love, and I do not care if that means that you and mother will exile me! I do not care that it means I will no longer live a life of riches! I am rich in love and happiness with him by my side!”

Your father ignored your pleas, even when you clung to his arm and dug your heels in the ground to stop him from advancing towards Joel. “Please, father! Please! I am begging you to leave him be!” You cried, and your words were caught in your throat when the backside of your fathers ring clad hand made swift contact with your cheek, sending you tumbling to the floor in shock. All Joel could see was red behind his eyes when your fathers hand made contact with your cheek. He sprung into action, but your father, despite his age, was quick, ready for Joel’s attack.

“YOU DARE FUCKIN’ LAY A HAND ON HER?!” Your lover yelled with a rage you had never heard leave his lips, “I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL YOU IF YOU LAY A HAND UPON HER AGAIN!”

Your father used Joel’s rage to his advantage, letting the younger man assume he had control of the situation when he was shoved against your tall, wooden chifferobe.

“STOP IT! PLEASE!” You cried, “BOTH OF YOU, PLEASE STOP!”

In your moment of distress, Joel was distracted for a millisecond too long when your fathers fist connected with Joel’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. He landed another hit, and then another, weakening Joel enough that he crumbled to his knees, bringing his arms over his head to block out the fists raining down upon him.

Your father was relentless, grabbing your lover by the back of his neck, yanking it upwards so he was forced to look up at the older man from his knees. He bent down to his level, getting close to his ear and whispered only for him to hear “I warned you this would end badly if you weren’t careful, boy.”

Joel spit a mixture of congealed blood and saliva directly onto his face, spattering it in speckles of crimson. “Fuck you, you coward.” He hissed between gritted teeth.

Your fathers fist trembled, his hand surely was broken, but all he could think about was how he was forced to watch his own lover be beaten in the same fashion, and now he was on the delivering end of it. “Get out.” He seethed. “Leave the property before lady Florence runs her large mouth to the lady of the house and spreads a false rumor about you and my daughter. Leave before I change my mind, Joel.”

Defeat; complete and utter defeat is all Joel Miller felt in his bones when your father released him with a rough shove to the ground. He struggled to sit up, coughing up more blood, and when you attempted to crawl to his side, your father grasped your elbow and yanked you to the door.

your fading screams of his name echoed down the hall as your father dragged you further and further away.

Bruised, beaten, and feeling hopeless, Joel Miller forced himself to his feet and obeyed your fathers word to leave while he still had the chance. He felt like a coward now, but what else could he do? If he stayed, surely he would face the gallows for a crime that he didn’t commit. Lady Florence had infact gone to run her big mouth to the lady of the house, claiming that Joel Miller raped you in your bed chambers. It was of course a fabricated lie, and only lady Florence, Joel, your father, and you knew the truth.

June 4th, 1844

My Dearest,

I am deeply remorseful for the events that transcribed three days ago. I know I have put you in an undesirable situation now with your father’s wishes for your arranged marriage to the rich banker's son. Forgive me, for I don’t care to remember his name. My dearest, do not put the blame upon yourself. If we had known that there were prying, hateful eyes watching us, I would have waited for you in the stables and not inside your chambers. Jealousy drives even the sanest of people to do the unforgivable. The deep wounds your father has inflicted upon me will heal, but my heart? Oh, how it aches for you, my dearest. If I were not a coward, I would turn back and face the gallows just to see your face one last time, for what else is a man to do when he is in love? I’m heading west, like we planned in the gardens, in hopes that you will follow me and go against your father’s wishes. Please write to me soon, tell me that you are safe, and grace me with your sweet words.

Your devoted Joel

Unspecified date.

My Joel,

I write this to you in secret. My words are only for your eyes, and when you receive my letter, tell no one, my lover. Father is angry, so very angry, and mother only speaks of hate towards you. She is determined to make me press charges against you to hang for a crime you did not commit! Father won’t stand for it and instead we have abandoned the estate, left all of our belongings including our dear horses! They will not tell me where we are going, but I miss you terribly, my Joel. My brothers have been free to marry by their choosing, but I? I cannot. It’s rather cruel, isn’t it? To be given one life and since birth, since I first opened my eyes and gazed upon the new world, my choice has been stolen from my grasp. Oh, my Joel, you speak in sorrows, but the fault lands upon my shoulders. I’m so sorry, lover. I should have been more careful and discreet with our planned rendezvous. I deeply loathe Lady Florence for spying upon us! You are right of her jealousy, and now she claims to be remorseful! Oh, I feel your lips now. Your kiss, your touch upon my skin. My love for you has not weakened, I promise. Hold my words close to your heart, my Joel. I fear I will not be able to write to you again, but I will try, for you. My Joel, you are in my thoughts, always.

You have my heart,

Your Dearest.

January 1848, one hour after dusk

The decision to leave Texas and travel to New York to stop yours and the banker’s son’s wedding could quite possibly be the last thing that Joel Miller would ever do. But how could he sleep at night knowing that you were out there, somewhere in the city, thousands of miles away. You had not written to him in so long, but that didn’t deter him from following his heart back to you. He couldn’t fathom life without you in it any longer, and what else is a man to do when he is in love?

That’s how he found himself in the familiar stables, the horses peeking their heads out from their stalls and nickering softly to him in greeting. He kept the single letter you wrote to him safely tucked away in the pocket of his coat, rucksack thrown over his shoulder with what little belongings he possessed. After a new family moved into your home he was given a higher title, a warm bed to sleep in, and he could have married his new boss's daughter and lived a comfortable, happy life, but he declined, for she would never be you, his dearest. Despite turning down every single one of her affections, she still lingered, hoping that one day she would be good enough for his affections and heart.

He was frantically tacking up Sunfyre, cinching up the girth when the barn doors creeped open and Phoebe, his boss’s daughter appeared.

“Joel?” She whispered through the cool evening air, lantern in hand to peer into the low-lit stalls, “what…are you doing?”

He let out a sigh, dropping his hand from the girth and turned around to face her, “lady Phoebe, it’s late. You shouldn’t be out after hours.”

“Neither should you.” She chastised. “Where are you going at this hour, Joel?”

“My lady, that is none of your business. Please, return home. Forget that you ever saw me.”

“You’re going after her, aren’t you? Joel, it’s been years, and she has only written back to you once! It’s in all the papers that she is marrying the banker's son. You could be happy here, with me.” She whispered the last bit, feeling her heart ache for a man who would never feel the same for her.

“Lady Phoebe, “You are a dear friend to me, but I cannot love you, for my heart belongs to another.”

“But I can love you, Joel. I’m right here! She is thousands of miles away and—”

“She is my love, my one true love, and I’ll be damned if I don’t follow my heart. Your heart sings for me, but it’s not my tune to hear. You will belong to another, I promise.” He moved from Sunfyre’s side, grasping Phoebe's hands gently in his calloused palms, “you have to let me, and what could never be between us go.”

May 6th, 1848

My Joel, if you’re out there…please, please come find me, lover.

Your Joel wasn’t even sure how the fuck he was supposed to find you in a city as large as New York City. All he knew is that today you were expected to marry the banker’s son, and he would be damned if he didn’t stop this wedding from happening. He asked nearly every passbery in the street if they knew where the biggest wedding of the month would be taking place. It took less time than expected to find his answer, and once he did, he rented the finest suit that he could afford, tucked the ring box safely in his suit pocket, and rode to the chapel.

The wedding bells were already beginning to sweetly chime, and he felt his blood run cold at the sound. Was he too late? He would never forgive himself if he was.

“If anyone here, in this room objects to the unifying marriage between this man and woman, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The officiant spoke at the head of the altar, just as the doors leading into the chapel burst open.

“I OBJECT!” Joel’s familiar voice boomed up the aisle. Hushed murmurs, and surprised gasps echoed throughout the chapel when your eyes landed upon your Joel. All time ceased as you dropped Timothy’s hands, racing down the aisle, the train of your perfectly fitted wedding dress dragged behind you.

Tears flooded your eyes as you threw yourself into your lover's embrace, clinging to him in disbelief with your hands cradling his face. “MY JOEL, YOU CAME FOR ME!”

“Of course I did, my dearest. For what else is a man to do when he is in love?” He murmured, unable to truly process all the feelings he was experiencing at once. But what did it truly matter? The time apart was years, but it was all worth it leading up to this moment.

Your father was already making his way down the aisle, followed by your mother and Timothy when Joel grasped your hand tightly in his and whisked you down the aisle towards the exit. He wasn’t going to let them take you away from him again, not this time.

His grip on your hand did not loosen at the harsh sound of your fathers voice, and even when you were running down the chapel steps in unison, he did not let go until you and him were safely tucked behind a wall of a building, out of sight from the wedding party.

He kept you safely caged against the wall, a burst of memories from the night of firsts that you shared together all those years ago. “My dearest,” he breathed, “I thought I was too late! I thought the wedding already happened and you—”

“My Joel, I—I never thought I would see you again! I only ever received your single letter and I thought that you had moved on, that you had forgotten about me!”

“What?” He shook his head, brows furrowed as he grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips, kissing every inch of your skin there. “My Dearest, I wrote to you many, many times! Did you receive all of my letters? I thought the same! I thought you forgot about your Joel.” He admitted quietly.

“Fuck! I bet it was mother, or father! I bet they were keeping your letters from me, lover! Maybe they thought that if I believed you had forgotten me, I would be more inclined to marry the banker’s son!”

“I would believe that to be true, my sweet. But none of that matters, okay? I’m here now. Your Joel is here, and I will never leave your side again.”

“I-I can’t believe you’re here! Oh, my Joel, I’m so sorry—for everything! I have not stopped thinking about you all these years, I swear it. My heart only has ever belonged to you. I wear his ring, but it means nothing to me!”

“Shh, my love. I know, I know. My heart has only ever belonged to you, my dearest. Only to you. Fuck his ring. I will remove it from your finger so you never have to gaze upon it again.” He rasped, gently grabbing your left hand, scoffing at the enormous rock on your ring finger. “And I will replace it with my own.”

“Please, my Joel.”

He slipped the banker’s son’s ring off of your finger, tucking it into his pocket before he pulled out his own ring box, revealing a smaller, dainter ring beneath the velvet cover.

“It’s not much, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t grace your finger with the largest diamond the world has ever seen, but—I love you, dearest. I came all this way because I couldn’t possibly fathom the thought of losing you to another. I have never loved another soul as I do you, and while I don’t have riches to offer you, shiny carriages, silver platters, I have my heart and I know that it’s worth something to you, darlin.’”

He slipped his ring onto your finger, where it always belonged, and then you finally kissed him, your lips meeting in gentle brush before he surged forward, kissing you with everything that he had to offer. He believed that he was hallucinating, that he was back in Texas, longing for you in his empty bed. But you were here, you were real beneath his fingertips as he licked sweetly into your mouth, hands splayed around your waist, holding you close.

“It’s perfect, my Joel.” You murmured against his lips.

“Only because the lady that wears it is the most beautiful in the entire world. Sunfyre is waiting for us down the street. We can go as far east, west, wherever your heart desires. I will love you eternally, and no one will ever keep us apart, my dearest. I swear it.”

“Let’s go home, my Joel. To Texas. Take me home.”

And so he did, for what else is a man to do when he is in love?

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oxydiane · 1 year

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sns is so fucking unhinged and nobody will ever be them i’m sorry. you start the series and it’s like oh haha look at these goofy angsty rivals! they hate each other! then sasuke dies for naruto thirty chapters in giving up his dream of revenge and naruto goes batshit insane. now you’re like ah they’re friends i guess that’s cute! and sasuke is trying to kill naruto because he’s the most important person in his life which is . ok and it becomes the driving force of everything or something. sasuke leaves and naruto dedicates the rest of his life to bringing him back and you’re still a casual fan so ur like he’s doing it for the promise right? then orochimaru says sasuke is his and naruto goes batshit insane feral homicidal (again) and after that sasuke reappears and they have ??? like five different panels dedicated to them staring at each other??? and he jumps off a mountain and hugs naruto for some reasons just to whisper some gay shit in his ear kishimoto frankly needs to be jailed drawing this and keep that best friend nonsense going. anyways. you have sasuke become a convicted terrorist to which the normal people response is “ok we need to hunt him down” and when naruto learns they’re gonna hunt him down he starts screaming crying throwing up he has a panic attack he can’t breathe he’s falling in the snow he gets on his knees and begs them to spare his BFF. after having a meltdown over the thought of sasuke dying what may possibly be the natural coping mechanism any stable person would adapt? of course realising that if sasuke dies he can die too. so he sees sasuke again and after he attempts murdering sakura twice and expresses the intent to murder kakashi he’s like. i will bear the burden of your hatred and die with you hehe and if we both die you won’t be an uchiha and i won’t be the jinchuuriki to the nine tails and we’ll be able to understand each other better in a different lifetime! WE’LL MEET AGAIN IN THE AFTERLIFE BECAUSE NOT EVEN DEATH CAN DO US PART! and sasuke (just as insane as him) doesn’t even flinch he’s like what the fuck is wrong with you but then ok let’s fuckingggf die together on my god i will kill your first anyways . then they find out they are soulmates and get cute matching tattoos on their hands and decide to fight to the death once more because sasuke is back on his i will shoulder all the hatred of the world alone and i need to kill you because i love you more than anyone else in the world actually you’re the only person i love so you need to DIE and naruto is like I WILL NOT LET YOU SHOULDER THAT HATRED ALONE I WILL FREE YOU FROM THE PAIN and they fight and despite all the whatever weapons used in the war it’s a fuckinggg fistfight in which just as sasuke is about to inflict what he thinks is the last blow says “farewell… my one and only…………………. (very long pause to accentuate how heteronormative this next word is gonna be) FRIEND” and fucking stops using his sharingan because not even then he can record the image of naruto dying especially by his hand but naruto STOPS HIM LIKE A f cHAMP and they end up blowing each other’s arms off (rip the matchies) and as they’re bleeding to the fucking death sasuke is like you’re the only person that has never tried to severe their ties with me why do you go so far for me and naruto from the depths of comphet hell is like because you’re my FRIEND and sasuke being absolutely done with this bullshit is like ok what the fuck does that mean to you then and this is where it gets even gayer and relatable because naruto is like i don’t KNOW i just know that when you hurt i hurt and i just can’t take it and isn’t that the most gay experience thing ever? naruto knows what it feels like to have friends but what he feels for sasuke is so bone deep and unconventional that he cannot make sense of it and can only describe the pain it brings. after that sasuke CRIES LIKE THEYVE GOT ME SOOO FUCKED UP but you know what got me even more fucked up?

naruto waking up bloodied and battered and half alive with one arm missing but still wondering if that was heaven because sasuke was next to him. sasuke looking so happy and peaceful when saying “i lost” as a stark contrast to him looking and feeling like half of his body was being torn apart when he “won” against naruto in vote1 and left him. the bitterness of victory vs the sweetness of losing if you will. AND HIM COMPARING WHAT HE FEELS FOR NARUTO TO PRAYING MY GODD. did i forget to mention that then we learn that Ohhh it was never a stupid shallow rivalry as we all thought! they have actually been watching each other from afar since they were little freshly traumatised children and have longed to hold each other’s hands since then! what was it sasukeeee you felt warm and fuzzy when you saw naruto to thought of it as a weakness? these two are so astronomically hopelessly desperately obsessed in love with each other it’s ridiculous i’ve had ENOUGH free me from this mental prison

#soo talks #its 4 am #this is word vomit #ignore me #naruto #naruto shitpost #sns #narusasu #sasunaru #pro sns #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #thoughts

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leopharry · 7 months

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Also, last thing I'm gonna say, but like.

SPOILER ALERT!

If they get a season 3, and provided Con is willing and able to return, Izzy's gonna come back. I have no doubt about it. Not only because Izzy's such a fan favorite but also because a rebirth would absolutely fit his character arc. Plus, why would they bring back mystical, magical Buttons in the last ten seconds and have him land on Izzy's grave (rather than the inn itself if he's meant to symbolize Ed changing) if that's not the insinuation we're meant to take away from it?

I'm calling it now. What I see happening is, Izzy coming back will be what spurs Ed and Stede to rejoin the Revenge, all three of them together, and maybe, probably, also Buttons. I mean. The boat is still called the Revenge (or, the New Revenge? Possibly?) If what we're meant to take away from the show is the importance of moving past our childhood trauma and insecurities and biases as a way to gain true self-actualization and freedom, we can't rely on Revenge. The boat itself, even if he's no longer on it atm, is still Stede's*, is still tied to Stede's feelings of inadequacy. But it wasn't meant to be a pirate ship. He wanted to bring his family. He just wanted to live at sea. The piracy came after, and tbh was always tinged with Stede trying to recreate what he lost in failing to bring his family with him. Stede KNOWS what he wants. He wants family and community and understanding and respect. But he's still so caught up in his feelings of inadequacy and what he thinks masculinity is supposed to look like that he's still going about trying to get it all wrong. That still hasn't really been resolved. He still has some figuring out left to do.

And you know what? So does Ed. Mr. Edward "As soon as my daddy issues rear their ugly head I'm right back to being the killer he made me become" Teach. Neither of them have found the balance either of them really need. The inn isn't self-actualization; it's a distraction. It's a detour rather than their final resting point, and I think they're going to realize it very quickly (the inn isn't family or friends or community, it's a rotating cast of strangers. It's isolation masquerading as company). They have each other now, and that's important. Having a stable foundation is important for the work they still have to do (I think if we get a season 3, we're not going to see our Dads divorce anymore, at the very least). But as for how to finally actually figure out what they want and need from life, they're gonna need help.

And you know who would be PERFECT to set the example? Izzy. Izzy 2.0. Izzy, who literally died at the peak of his own journey of self-actualization and miraculously, magically came back to life having realized what it is that makes living and dying worth it.

To paraphrase, Zheng Yi Sao said that the sea is cleansing, to which Buttons cheerfully and loudly agreed. That's why the inn isn't their final stop. Buttons came back. Buttons, who ties together the concept of change to what the sea symbolizes. Buttons, who landed, not on the inn, but on Izzy's grave.

*Also so, so fitting to me to see Frenchie (with his box in his mind that he puts all the bad stuff in and never looks at it again) at the helm of the New Revenge. Just putting that out there, it's interesting to me is all.

#Ofmd #Ofmd s2 #Ofmd spoilers #Spoilers #Our flag means death #Our flag means death spoilers #This turned out longer than I intended #Oops #I have a lot of thoughts #And i probably would have worded it better and more coherently if it weren't almost 5am #But i had to get my thoughts out #🤷‍♀️

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thaisibir · 1 year

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Why Aoi deserves the hellhound/dog of death Digimon partner

The sweet, gentle, and caring Aoi paired up with the ominous and sinister dog from hell...doesn't seem to fit at first glance, right? But considering Aoi's character arc and the kind of person she becomes, I think that Labramon (and her subsequent evolutions) is the perfect fit for Aoi. They're the reasons that contribute a lot to Aoi becoming my favorite character in Survive. (Lengthy Aoi appreciation post incoming)

Looking at the Survive Labramon line itself, each and every stage is directly linked to a supernatural dog-like creature associated with death and the afterlife:

Labramon - cyn annwn (Welsh mythology)

Dobermon - hellhound/church grim (English folklore)

Cerberumon - Cerberus (Greek mythology)

Anubismon - Anubis (Egyptian mythology)

Plutomon - Hades/Pluto (Greek/Roman mythology)

I'm sure the rest are obvious to everyone; cyn annwn, on the other hand, is a lot more obscure but no less relevant. So for even the deceptively adorable Labramon to be based on the white-furred, red-eared ghostly hound in Welsh myth, it's very clear from the start what kind of partner Aoi's got in her hands.

But why this association with death? Why not something like love or kindness? Aoi is a very compassionate and nurturing person, after all. Seems like the last one to be dealing with something like death.

Quite the contrary: I think the answer to those questions lies in the responsibility that comes with such a role. This ties to Aoi's character development: growing a greater sense of responsibility and inner strength as she becomes more and more of a leader.

As seen in various mythologies, being the god or guardian of the afterlife is no small task. It's an important duty that carries a lot of weight in the grand scheme of any pantheon. This is best exemplified through Anubis, who is not only the Egyptian god of the dead, but of their judgment. Hades/Pluto, another god of the dead, is nowhere near as power-hungry, trigger-happy and confrontational as his brothers Zeus and Poseidon. There's an air of stoicism and maturity to him, especially so when he is considered their equal in power. A few sources even argue that he's actually stronger. He could take Mount Olympus by storm if he wanted to, but he doesn't. Popular depictions in books, movies, shows, etc tend to demonize these gods of death as villains (looking at you, Hades from Disney Hercules), when really they're more of a neutral yet very necessary force keeping the order of things stable.

This idea of being able to mete out death applies to even real life as well. Ask any police officer or soldier who has to handle firearms. Or anyone just holding a gun, really. It's a sobering feeling, holding something that could kill someone faster than you could blink. I'm sure that's how Aoi felt when her partner first became Cerberumon. Maybe that feeling didn't hit her with Labramon and Dobermon since they resemble real-life dogs. But a monster three-headed dog is another story. It's a testament to Aoi's character that she initially reacts with her desire for power with fear. She's right to be afraid at first. Without that fear...well, that's where you get the mass shooters and the psychopaths and the serial killers and the genocidal dictators. Power getting into the hands of people who don't give it the caution and respect it deserves is truly frightening, with devastating consequences. In the case of Survive, Shuuji at his lowest point wanted power from poor Lopmon for all the wrong reasons, craving it without caution and with reckless abandon, and that consumed him.

As said in Spider-Man: "With great power comes great responsibility." Cerberumon tells Aoi more or less the same, assuring her that great power can be entrusted to her as long as her heart is true and doesn't go astray. From here, Aoi takes it a step further from understanding the power she's given to making it her own. She wants it only to protect the ones she cares about. She goes from the shrinking violet who's never sure of her own opinions and decisions to being the firm, strong leader the other kids can really depend on. Takuma and the others notice and admire this change, especially in his absence as he was briefly stuck in the real world.

They say that the most trying times bring out the best or worst in people. For Aoi (in most routes of the game, anyway), facing life and death stakes in a strange world brings out the best qualities she didn't even know she had before. She really rose to the occasion and becomes someone her peers admire, respect, and follow. In my opinion, not only is Aoi the second in command alongside Takuma, Labramon is the second strongest after Agumon. Even early on, the other kids know Aoi is a real asset to their group. For example, when they're about to enter the underground waterway: they have no problem with leaving the unstable Shuuji behind, but they balk when Aoi suggests staying behind with him. Kaito and Minoru oppose the idea, saying that losing her would put a dent in their firepower. That says a lot about Aoi's contribution to the group, even when at that point she wasn't ready to see that in herself yet.

And going back to the use of correct judgment and authority, Aoi fills that role quite nicely. Contrast that with Shuuji initially ordering the other kids around left and right. Throwing around the fact that he's older and saying he's the leader isn't gonna get anyone to take him seriously. Aoi is quiet and reserved by nature, but not without a good head on her shoulders. When she's pushed to raise her voice and speak her mind, people shut up and listen. At least twice she's seen subduing Kaito, the most hotheaded with the shortest fuse, into meek submission. I don't think that's any small feat. It's for the best that something like Labramon, what she represents, isn't partnered with Shuuji or Kaito. She needs to be with someone who's got a good hold on the leash.

Finally, the thing that makes Aoi the perfect match with Labramon: her fiercely loyal and protective instinct we so love in dogs. Aoi is the Team Mom in more ways than one: cooking and cleaning and giving first aid. Most importantly, when push comes to shove and "her kids" are in danger, she can really bite back. Dracmon once remarked that "she can be downright fierce when she gets mad." Someone on Reddit said that Aoi "isn't a pretty little golden retriever, she's a fierce hellhound when she needs to be." I 100% agree. If you squint harder at the shy, well-behaved honor student, there's a sign on her that says "Beware of Dog." Poke at her hard enough and that part of her will jump out.

TL;DR: Aoi is the perfect person to tame the scary dog of death and make it her best friend. And I absolutely love her for it.

#digimon survive #aoi shibuya #aoi appreciation post #labramon #dobermon #cerberumon #anubismon #plutomon

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natteryaktoad · 11 months

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Griffin, Day 84, Part 1

Scarlett took a phone call from Robbie, and ended up talking about... Aden, presumably?

Osprey: Scarlett! Phone for you - it’s Ida.

Scarlett: Hey, babe... are you happy?

Osprey: Of course - I’m marrying you in the morning!

Scarlett: Yeah, but... the wedding... I feel like we’re both wanting different things from it.

Osprey: Yeah, we are, but I think we’re both getting what we want, right? My first wedding was massive - Kate’s parents paid for the whole thing, and about a hundred of the guests were their friends that I’d never met - even Kate hadn’t met most of them! It was so big, a spectacle, a performance. I felt like I didn’t even get to spend any time with the friends and family who were important to me. Whereas your first wedding...

Scarlett: My first wedding, there was only Aunt Wendy and Trip there, beside me and Aden. It was all very rushed and spur-of-the-moment, and Aden convinced me that I just wanted a small wedding, there and then. I didn’t get to have the rest of my family or any friends there. Aden said we could have a big party as a wedding reception when we got home, but then when we did, he had work stuff going on, and I found out I was pregnant with the twins, and it never happened.

Osprey: And so this time, on my side, I just want the people most important to me there - my kids. I want to be able to enjoy the day and actually spend time with people, rather than it being a perfomance. And you-

Scarlett: And I want all my friends and family there, a big celebration with everyone who’s important to me.

Osprey: And I feel like we’ve got all that, right? Our wedding’s here, so it’s low key, but not too low key, and we’ve both invited all the people we want there.

Scarlett: And it’s not too big for you?

Osprey: Nope. Everyone who’s coming is important to us - the numbers don’t matter as much as who the people are. I’m happy if you’re happy.

Scarlett: I’m very happy.

Osprey: Then I am too. And we’re getting married in the morning!!

Osprey: Morning, gorgeous... it’s The Day!

Ah, I’d forgotten about this...

Scarlett and Osprey’s wedding day dawned rainy, so we dragged out the weather manipulator thingy and ordered up some clear skies. The guests were all duly invited, and gussied up into appropriate formalwear (you wouldn’t believe the amount of women who came in their own wedding dresses!).

Osprey’s only invites were to his four children and their plus ones (Perri didn’t bring anyone, since Trip was there), but Scarlett invited her whole family (or almost everyone): her dad, mum and step-dad; eight of her ten siblings (I didn’t invited Skye and Roman, as she’s never been that close to them and this thing was already getting BIG!); her three children with plus ones (but not for Trip, since Perri was there); her Uncle Brian and Aunt Wendy (without their spouses, to prevent crashes); and her BFF Ida Juana. Oh, and Helen and Gerry decided any invite of Ida Juana’s was an invite of theirs, and both crashed at different points.

Osprey’s oldest daughter, Cara, almost didn’t make it to the ceremony - I’d forgotten she was pregnant. I think she’ll be happy about the prospect of a baby. With her boyfriend, Robbie, I could see it going one of two ways - either he’ll be horrified at the idea of being a father, or overjoyed at the chance to have a stable family of his own. It’s possible the idea of Cara being easier to control if she’s tied to the house with a baby might appeal to him, too...

#Widespot #Day 84 #Scarlett Mann #Osprey Griffin

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rhetoricandlogic · 1 year

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Review: The Keeper’s Six by Kate Elliott

...

In The Keeper’s Six, Earth isn’t the only Realm. There are many Realms, and they are all magically connected by a dangerous between area known as the Beyond. A group of six magic users can form what’s known as a Hex to traverse the Beyond between Realms and facilitate trade between them. Each Realm also has facilities known as Keeps. These are locations that are partly in a Realm and partly in the Beyond, and they provide a place to cross between the two. Each Keep is powered and run by a magic user known as a Keeper.

Esther’s son, Daniel, is the Keeper of her Hex’s home Keep in Hawaii. He is married and has children with Kai, a dragon trapped in human form. One night, Esther receives a cryptic phone call from Daniel. When she travels to his Keep, she discovers Kai and the children in an enchanted sleep and Daniel has been kidnapped. A year ago Esther’s Hex had been suspended from travel through the Beyond, but she calls on them anyway. She needs help finding Daniel and bringing him home. If there’s one thing Daniel’s kidnappers didn’t plan for, it’s how much Esther can accomplish when she’s angry.

One of my favorite things about this story was the magic system. Not everyone can use magic, but those that can usually have a particular talent. For example, Esther is a Lantern. She can cast light and use it as a defensive shield when necessary. Each member of a Hex has a special magical talent, and using them all together is what makes traversing the Beyond possible.

Another part of the magic system I found intriguing was the idea that a certain number of things is important. The number six seemed to be particularly important. Hex means six, and each Hex has six members. Six Keeps in a hexagonal configuration creates a stable environment within the Beyond where people can live and trade. It was a very interesting idea.

I also liked the take on parallel universes being connected magically. Unlike in a sci-fi world where universes use technology to travel, everything in the Realms and the Beyond is magical. Specifically, it seems to be controlled with dragon magic – which is important to the story. Dragons control the Concilium which is a kind of governing body that dictates trade laws in the Realms. The Concilium also assigns rankings to Realms depending on how aware the citizenry is of magic. Earth is a fourth rank Realm because the populace at large doesn’t know about magic, Realms, or the Beyond.

While I really enjoyed the setting, the world, and the characters, I do feel most of the characters could have used more development. The entire story is told in 3rd person from Esther’s perspective, so we don’t really learn more than surface-level facts about the other members of the Hex, Daniel, or Kai. Honestly, out of all the characters, I would have loved to learn more about Kai’s past. Also, there’s a character included in most of the story that just leaves about 75% through it. The entire side story about him and where he came from just felt out of place if it wasn’t going to be explored more thoroughly.

I feel some of this is what contributed to the slight pacing issues the story had. Most of the book seemed to drag by with Esther and her Hex moving from one place to another following clues. Then, everything was resolved so quickly within the last 15% of the book. That being said, the mystery and how everything ended up being tied together was very well done. I suspected some of it, but the rest was a complete surprise, which is always nice in a story as long as it’s realistic for the world.

#Kate Elliot #The Keeper's Six #mahreviews #long post

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beyuwol · 28 days

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NGS2P4 — yuwol performs nonstop / line distribution

the sudden jump in rankings wasn't something he had expected, but it's a testament to the fact that yuwol is undoubtedly improving. just as usual, he adheres to the critical comments the judges had to offer too—his violin, in particular, is shown to be a crutch for him to hold onto. there's truth to that, his parents had tied his entire worth into this particular instrument, a prodigy born out of necessity. yuwol lifts his violin bow in an attempt to chase that feeling of dying, of reaching an end. this time, though, he wants to taste what it's like to live.

maybe...that's dramatic. but stages are meant to be dramatic.

a performance without his violin, for real this time. a separation from the gloomy cloud hanging over his head, a peek at the sun—an upbeat melody, to signal a sort of new beginning. or a refreshing restart, if he's allowed one.

his previous performance lacked a choreography to convey the story they had been trying to tell, so that was something yuwol had in mind when discussions came around. it's an interesting take; they've decided to incorporate the camera's point of view into their performance, a make-believe situation where the audience—or whoever is watching through these lenses—are on a carnival date with each team member. it's a rather ambitious route, there's a chance things can even get messy if they weren't careful. but yuwol has faith in his members, each one talented in their own right.

during certain verses, each individual has their own 'intimate moment' with the camera, a one-on-one date so to speak. those who aren't in the spotlight for the moment will be acting as supporting npcs, in the background to make sure the date is going well—of course, with a tweak to the choreography for it to make sense ( courtesy of hangyeol, who helped modify the choreography ). the one who opens this concept is jingren, pretending to hold hands with the cameraman and bringing them on stage.

and then, it begins.

yuwol notices the emphasis on hip movements with this song, grateful that his body is no longer as stiff as it had been in the beginning of next gen, able to accommodate to its demands. hip locks, a wave. the hand movements had concerned him initially, practicing how to coordinate them with the rest of his body, like his torso or his head.

what's important is to be clean, to be precise. constant practice does help, his voice no longer wavering as much, stable and more controlled.

energy is also important—he has to be bursting with it, but also fluid with his movements and gestures. expressive, bright; after his session with jueun he had practiced in front of the mirror too, smiles and grins. bubbly, sparkling; that's what he has to aim for. and on that note, he tries to relate to the lyrics. a bubbling love, nonstop, overwhelming. yuwol thinks of excitements of first dates, the thrill of a first love ( he thinks of his own... love, unpredictable and confusing, nonstop ). and that's the story they will be telling.

there's a strange adrenaline running through him when he dances, even though his limbs will be sore afterwards he does find himself having fun, feeling the bubbliness of the music as opposed to the tense rendition of a song in his previous performance. a higher note approaches as the first chorus comes to its end, and yuwol hits it—but singing isn't where his concerns lie.

his intimate moment comes along with his only rap verse, something he had gone over with jingren to practice. rhythm and tempo, keeping an even pace and a good flow. he stands by one side of their simple 'kissing booth', the camera on the other. "i'm so lonely these days, i think i'm a little weird." funnily enough, the lyrics aren't too far off the mark. a confusing yet all-consuming emotion, leaving one feeling odd. it fits, considering yuwol's status as the 'weird one' in next gen. he picks up the lip balm sitting idly by, uncapping it.

now for the most significant portion: acting out the concept itself in his individual spotlight.

he plays a bit nervous, biting his own lip like he's unsure, eyes focusing on the lip balm for the most part and stealing glances at the camera—or in other words, the audience themselves. like he had practiced with dohyun before, he swipes some of the product onto his finger, putting it on himself. then, slightly hesitant ( although it's all an act ), he slides his finger over the camera's lips—pretending too, of course, his finger disappearing off-camera. "cuz my heart starts to race when i see you, back it up, pack it up, move out of the way." yuwol leans closer for added effect, slowly, letting the moment truly marinate.

and instead of placing a kiss on what's assumed to be the stand-in's lips, he lifts his face up and pretends to kiss their forehead. quick, somewhat shy, like it was a daring move; like a first kiss. he follows that with a giggle, as if teasing—he might be, a part of him finds that fun; the idea of teasing someone that way had been rather amusing, he genuinely found excitement in acting out this little scenario.

maybe his own heart fluttered a bit, his own imagination taking over.

but the song continues on, back into places. everyone else had their moments, maintaining that high energy isn't easy, but yuwol manages to the best he can.

nonstop, nonstop, nonstop. the rush continues nonstop.

#( solos. )#be:ngs2p4 #( wc: 945 )#/ why is this long #shut up for once yuwol

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starcchild · 1 year

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Would Carter get the arc reactor removed if she could?

((as a heads up, I am gonna be over on Fae's blog for the rest of the night and this weekend, but I really wanted to answer this question because I honestly don't know

at first, I wanted to say, yes! yes she would remove it if she could! But... I truly don't know if she would want to after all, even if it could be promised she would be 100% a-okay in the end with no lasting side effects.

now, an important thing to note, that I've changed even here but I plan on getting into more detail with the rewrite (as well as changing some aspects as a whole), is that her reactor isn't like Tony's. While his was an electromagnet, her's contained a precursor to the centipede serum (you can read more in-depth on her reactor here, but again, I will be changing aspects) - it's stable enough to keep her from becoming a human time bomb, but... something she is stuck with. The serum is processed through the reactor and fed into her body through her blood, and would absolutely kill her if it was destroyed. She doesn't get that option like Tony does in canon, and it absolutely feeds into her belief that her identity is only tied to the Iron Man suit. I mean, there are a few factors in that belief, but... the reactor definitely plays a role in it, despite it being completely different from her father's. Despite how she feels about it, it is a part of her, but it's still a secret she will absolutely take with her to the grave unless she can trust someone enough to reveal it to them.

the reason for my initial yes is because it would be the final string cut to her identity as Iron Man. She does eventually come to learn, understand, and accept she has an identity outside of the mantle post-cacw when she gets the help she needs, but her reactor is always going to be a reminder of it. By removing it, that last attachment will be gone, much like how it was supposed to have been in im3 for Tony. She can choose to pick up the mantle once more if she wishes, but... it's separate from her, and something she can keep separate. Plus, it... represents Obadiah, because it was under his orders that she was given the reactor in the first place. He saved her life, that she knows, and... she hates it. Hates it because it gave him control over her, because he would hold it over her head, that it was because of him she was alive and given a second chance. Removing it would remove a reminder of him, and really help her move on.

but, it's the fact it did give her a second chance that is making me hesitate and lean into the idea of her keeping it. With therapy, Carter could learn to accept the reactor and detach it from Obadiah. That, yes, it came from something horrible from someone horrible, but... it did save her life. It gave her another chance, even if it was a horrible second chance at the start, because... once she gets the help she needs, she begins to take control of her life, and finds herself. She's alive because of the reactor, and she can learn from that. It gave her a second chance, but it's also giving her a third, because it kept her alive all that time. She can reclaim it for herself, with Obadiah and AIM gone, and make peace with it in the end.

this is definitely something I wanna think more about once I get to the ikau-portion of the rewrite, so that way I can factor in the changes I wanna make, but... yeah! Overall, I honestly don't know, because it's complicated in every sense of the word.

#asks #anons #death mention tw #ikau things

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buck-nialled · 3 years

Text

Hello Kitty - B. Barnes

NOTE: for the sake of this imagine, let’s pretend that Bucky knows about HK. WARNING: contains smutty ending, do not read if you are below the age of 18! aka MINORS SCOOT! also this isn’t proofread so sorry if it’s shitty?

TAGLIST: @poetic-heart @hallecarey1 @moonlightbaby10 @5-seconds-of-bucky @bbl32 @wobblymug @iwannabekilledtwice @golden-hoax @barnes-lokison

SUMMARY: it’s your third date with bucky and you are dressed to impress...for the most part

“It’s our third date.” You admit shyly to Natasha and Wanda, who sat before you on your bed. The two women’s “oohs” had your body feeling much warmer in your bathrobe than moments before. You maintained your gaze on your bare thighs, with your fingernails continuously picking at loose pieces of fuzz on your robe.

“So what are you wearing?” Natasha quirks an eyebrow at you, the corner of her lips tilted up deviously. Wanda matches her expression, further encouraging you to stand up and retrieve the knee-length, red dress from your closet. Once again, the two “ooh-ed” simultaneously at the piece.

“I don’t think he’s ever seen a dress so revealing.” Wanda giggles. Natasha joins her with a few chuckles of her own.

“He might think he chose to go out with a harlot.” Nat jives, earning another barrage of laughs from the girl beside her. Yes, Bucky did have a few years on him, but it was nothing you enjoyed hearing others tease him about. Bucky Barnes knew how to put up a shell, and do it excellently. Something you are certain of though, is nobody enjoys having their age being commented on.

“Guys, come on…” You whine, tossing the dress onto your bed and returning to the seat at your vanity, where various makeup products lie scattered.

“We’re only teasing, Y/N.” Wanda’s hand, donning several rings, waves carelessly about. Natasha hums in agreement.

“What are you wearing underneath?” She questions.

“Underneath? Why’s that matter?” Natasha and Wanda both suck in a sharp breath, and exchange a wary glance. When they lock their bewildered stares back onto you and still say nothing, you begin to grow impatient.

“Hello? Am I missing something?” You fold your arms together, leaning back in your chair and looking at the expectantly.

“Y/N, it's the third date.” Wanda snickers.

“I know.”

“Then you should know that it’s important to wear the proper...undergarments.” Natasha mumbles.

“Look who’s sounding old now.” You turn in your seat and waltz over to your dresser. “What’s wrong with wearing what I normally wear?” You call back to them as your eyes study the selection of panties and bras displayed in your top drawer.

Natasha scoffs, before bluntly stating “Your sports bra and granny panties aren’t gonna get you laid, Y/N.” You take a deep inhale through the nose and spin around to meet the woman’s interrogating eyes. Part of you almost makes a comeback on the sports bra comment, but find yourself squeaking after processing her last few words.

“Laid?! Who says we’re going that far?” You nearly choke out, laying a hand on your cheek in mortification.

“Says anybody who’s ever dated anybody. Third dates require you to bring your A-game.” Wanda informs, now making you succumb to humiliation further. The girl is years younger than you and knows more about a stable love life than you ever could. “You have to dress up. Even underneath.” She adds.

You glance down at the sloppy bow you tied to keep your robe shut. “Well...that rule is stupid. And outdated. Who says we can’t go out on a third date, have a good time fully-clothed and end it that way?” You snip, turning back to grab a nude bra with a satisfied smile.

“Y/N, just take our advice. It’ll help you in the long run.” Nat begs, catching a sinister glint in your eyes. You make an indecisive noise, feeling giddy for keeping your friends on their toes, before declaring:

“No, I don’t think I will. In fact, to prove to you both how ridiculous that rule is…” Your hand shuffles around the drawer, away from Natasha’s and Wanda’s prying eyes. When you finally retrieve your most embarrassing pair of underwear, you elicit a devilish laugh and raise the piece of clothing, high and proud for their eyes to see. In sync, you watch their lips part and eyes grow ide.

“Y/N, no…” Wanda’s strawberry-blonde hair swishes on and off of her shoulders as she shakes her head furiously.

“Don’t do this.” Natasha continues pleading. But their desperate attempts to keep you from wearing the pair of panties, clutched tight in your grasp, is only further motivation for you to pull them on your body.

“Y/N, yes.” You nod. “If you two ladies don’t mind excusing yourselves, I have a date to get ready for.” Both women perceive your satisfied smile with doubtful frowns tracing their lips. Natasha and Wanda knew perfectly well that you would come to regret your decision later in the night. You, however, were too ignorant to realize the mistake you had just committed.

♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎

“Thanks for taking me out, Buck. I had a really great time.” Your hand, entangled with Bucky's, lessens its grip. As the two of you approach the elevator to ride up to your floor, the red fabric adorning your body stops swishing at your knees. Bucky rests his vibranium hand against his chest, sparing you a smile nobody else in the compound would ever have the delight of seeing.

“The pleasure is all mine, Y/N.” His fingers remain laced with yours throughout the entire elevator ride up to your respective floor. When you began leading the way to your own bedroom, Bucky stops you with a proposal.

“Actually I was thinking about it, and uh…” the same hand on his chest moments ago winds behind him to scratch at the nape of his neck, “did you want to come to my room and chat a little longer.”

You graciously accepted the super soldier’s offer, but it was not long before your lips and tongues pursued more intimate activities. Currently, yours were forming escalating moans as Bucky’s mouth prioritized the space between your shoulder and neck, giving each patch of untouched skin his undivided attention.

“I gotta get this off of you,” he grumbles, yearning for more of your bare skin to meet his lips. Eagerly, his flesh hand searched the back of your dress up and down for a zipper. His vibranium hand remained at the bottom of your thigh, metal fingers tucked just below the red skirt of your dress and dangerously close to--

You suck in a sharp breath, eyes enlarging at the thought of the underwear shielding your privates. Bucky’s blue eyes, darkened by the dimly lit bedroom cast down to yours with concern.

“W-what happened? I didn’t hurt you did I?” You respond with a viscous shake of your head, desperate to not let this moment slip through your fingers.

“Just had a...small chill.” Your lips tremble at the sight of Bucky’s turning up into a smirk. You swear his eyes darken four shades in front of you too, complementing the burning list fueling your actions. His lips bend down to greet the shell of your ear, and this time, a sincere chill does run through your body. It sends tingles to your toes and an itchy feeling only Bucky can give you antidote for.

“Why don’t I warm you up, then?”

You’ll admit, for being over one hundred, the man still had power to every butterfly in your stomach, and each thump of your heart. Once glance from his blue eyes could send your knees wobbling, or worse, be to blame for a full on collapse. Currently, this charm of his was sparring with your inner-shame all because of what lies beneath your dress.

You remember why you put the pair of panties on in the first place, but you never expected your long-time crush to be witness to them. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared to deal with any future teasing from Bucky this moment would bestow on you. After all, it’d be quite nice to rub it in Natasha’s and Wanda’s face that you still got laid while wearing them.

“Yeah, I’d like that…” you elicit a nervous chuckle, following Bucky’s perusing eyes. You feel his hand still struggling to take hold of the small zipper and tug it down. His impatience grew clear when his warm palm and cool metal appendage dissipated from your back entirely, and instead, grasped the hem of the dress pooling at your thighs.

“Fuck it.” He mutters, and lifts the skirt of your dress up. By this point, your eyes were clenched shut and your teeth were grinding together in anticipation. Without realizing it, your fingers were clutching Bucky’s bedsheets for support of the various reactions feeding through your brain. Only did your hands release the cotton sheets when Bucky’s hands cloaked them.

You peeled your eyes open to see him, a cheeky smile lining the bottom of his face as he responded in a coy manner. “Nice panties.” A wave of heat filled your body from top to bottom, while your heartbeat reached a pace that you never knew to be possible. Bucky could hear each thump for himself, and chuckled to himself at the sight of you falling sheepish underneath him.

The blue beauties of his eyes dragged down your body to the light pink cotton underwear, where a familiar cartoon head was printed all around it. The yellow noses and dotted eyes stared up at him daringly, awaiting his next move. As did you.

A sharp breath leaps down your throat when a cool metal finger inserts itself through the side of your underwear, and you feel your stomach begin quivering at the feeling of Bucky’s vibranium hand sliding the panties down your leg in a teasing manner.

“Hello Kitty.” Is all he says, before introducing your wet heat to the magic trick that is his thick, pink tongue.

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dsmutp · 3 years

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hehe now that i have gotten your consent- (i have 2 ideas for both sub and dom reader but that's for another story anyways so-) basically, c!eret gets jealous because whenever they're walking around with reader, reader gets distracted by something or dragged away by someone else, basically not giving him all the attention he wants. So he has enough of it and randomly drags the reader away(hold up i'm losing space here-😀)

gotchu fam <3

Another One of Those Days (C! Eret X Reader)

Being a king was no small feat. It wasn't all classy parties and fur lined capes - it also meant actually running a nation. And the SMP was no small nation. There were disputes to be settled and laws to be upheld, and at the end of the day, all of that responsibility fell to the king.

You were a little biased, but you thought Eret was doing a pretty good job of handling an entire kingdom. For the king of the entire SMP - a nation torn apart by wars on a regular basis - he wasn't doing half bad. Even war torn, Eret had the SMP as one of the most stable places to live. He did it all with a smile on his face, too.

Of course, he wasn't doing it entirely alone.

You were a something of a helping hand when it came to making sure the kingdom ran smoothly, being Eret's spouse. While he handled the most important parts of running a kingdom, you did a lot of the smaller things. Things like managing the palace staff, and handling smaller disputes (things like property line disagreements and civil arguments). It wasn't much, on the large scheme of things, but some days it could get pretty hectic.

Like today, for instance.

Since you had woken up this morning, you had been running around the palace all day. It seemed like the whole universe needed your attention - something had happened down in the kitchens during breakfast (meaning you'd had to cut your morning meal with Eret short), and the civil disagreement you were supposed to resolve today ended up stretching on for hours (meaning you weren't able to catch Eret after his morning council meeting) and then just as things had been calming down, someone had broken a stained glass window in the west wing (meaning you'd had to skip dinner entirely, and ended up just sneaking a few slices of sourdough from the kitchens).

Needless to say, you were exhausted, and you missed your husband.

Luckily for you, the sun had sunk behind the trees, the day was over, and he would be waiting for you in bed.

You finished off your sourdough dinner substitute as you approached the door of your shared bedroom, opening it up as quietly as you could and slipping inside. You didn't want to disturb him if he was asleep, as you were sure he'd had a hard day as well...

But no, Eret was very much awake, and waiting for you on the edge of the bed.

He had taken off most of his kingly attire - the long red cape usually found draped over his shoulder was folded over one of the armchairs on the other side of the room, and the crown was in it's proper place on it's shelf. Now, Eret's hair hung loose in his face, and his white silk shirt lay unbuttoned across his chest.

"Hello dear." He greeted in a low rumble, a smile coming over his face. "I missed you today."

You melted, taking his hand as he reached out for you, pulling you into his lap. Your head found it's place tucked underneath his jaw, and you wound your arms around his middle, sighing deep in your chest. "Hello love."

"You seem tired." Eret noted, stroking a hand through your hair. "Long day?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." You grumbled. "I don't think I've had such a busy day since before we got married." You nuzzled into him more, letting your eyes drift shut. "It's better now though."

You could feel Eret's chuckle bubble up in his chest. "I'm sorry we didn't get to take our usual breaks today." He said. "Perhaps I can make up for the lost time now?"

Your eyes opened back up at the suggestive tone in his voice, and you pulled back a bit so you could meet his eyes. "Oh?"

"If you're feeling up to it, of course." He said. "I just thought maybe it would help you relax, blow off some steam, if you will." His hand found it's way down to your thigh, kneading the flesh gently.

Goosebumps rose from your skin at the touch. "That would be very nice." You said.

A grin stretched across Eret's face as he shifted, letting you get out of his lap. "Put on something nice for me, won't you? I missed seeing you today."

---

It couldn't have been more than a quarter of an hour later that you found your wrists bound to the headboard of the four poster bed you shared with Eret, your lingerie clad body spread over the sheets like a lewd painting. You tugged at the silk tie binding your wrists - one of Eret's many sashes. He'd worn this one to a few banquets before, a lovely deep purple color.

Now, the fabric only accented your skin as you lay in wait for him.

Eret stood at the foot of the bed, slowly shrugging the shirt off his shoulders, letting the fabric slide down over his back. He always liked to put on something of a show for you - and you were always appreciative.

Eret's eyes found you as he unbuttoned his pants, letting his trousers pool at his feet as he stepped out of them. In only his boxers, he climbed onto the bed, propping himself up beside you to run a hand down your body, toying with the fabric of the lingerie you had picked out.

"You look delectable darling." He said, playing with the fabric of your outfit. The action caused goosebumps to rise over your skin where his fingers just barely brushed across. "I love it when you wear this one."

"Well, you said you'd missed me." You responded, pulling against your ties to crane your neck forward. Eret indulged you, leaning down to press his lips to yours, wasting no time in opening the kiss. Eret stopped playing with your outfit and instead started removing it, exposing your bottom half.

He pulled away to toss the piece of the outfit away, throwing it towards the pile of his own clothes on the floor. A shiver ran up your spine as Eret's eyes drifted down your body - he looked like he wanted to eat you.

And he did.

You jerked against the ties as Eret put his mouth on you, his hands sliding upwards to grip around your hips, holding them down to the bed so you couldn't squirm away from the heat of pleasure. A moan escaped your throat as Eret licked around your hole, sliding a finger in.

Involuntarily, your hips jerked up, only for Eret to press back down, stopping you from moving too much. You ached to touch him, but you were still secured to the headboard. There was something tantalizing about being completely at his mercy though.

Another finger slid in, beginning to stretch you open as Eret kept up his ministrations. Your breathing picked up as the warm tingly feeling spread over the rest of your body. Eret never disappointed - not when he put his mouth to good use.

You weren't even surprised when your orgasm washed over you. Even when he was just prepping you, Eret was a generous lover.

He pulled back as you came back down to earth, shedding his boxers. His cock stood at full attention - red no doubt from where he had had it pressed against the mattress while he'd spoken a royal decree into your skin.

"Good?" He asked, bringing a hand up to wipe his chin off.

"Wonderful." You said, catching your breath. Eret's hands off your hips now, you angled them up. "In please?"

Eret smiled, one hand coming up to card through your hair. "Right."

One of Eret's hands came to rest on your hip, the other coming to rest on the bedsheets beside you, holding himself up so that he could slide into you. You tipped your head back, savoring the stretch as Eret sucked in a breath.

You began to roll your hips, not giving Eret a moment to adjust. He leaned down, choking on a groan as he pressed his lips to the side of your neck. You sighed as he began to press kisses up your jaw, sucking little bruises against the skin.

"I missed you." He said, picking up the pace as he rolled his hips. "Even though it was just a day, I missed you."

"Needy." You tsked, meeting every thrust.

"You like that though." Eret said, voice tipping into something breathier. You could tell he was nearing his peak now, and you were beginning to reach a second - it would be easier for him to tip you over the edge now that he had done it once before.

All it took was a particularly rough thrust for you to be unraveling for a second time around him, Eret following you over the edge.

He collapsed against you, pillowing his head into your chest. You took a moment to catch your breath, just letting the feeling settle into you.

"Feeling better?" Eret asked, voice muffled as he spoke right into your skin.

"Much." You said. "You know what would make it better though?"

"Hm?"

"If you untied me so I could cuddle you to sleep."

#dream smp x reader #dream smp smut #mcyt x reader #mcyt smut #eret smut #eret x reader

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shine-of-aldhani · 3 years

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This post is going to be fandom-critical and Loki series-appreciative, so get out and block/unfollow/whatever while you can if that's not your cup of tea.

There is a trend in many fandoms of characters who are in opposition to the hero (villains, antiheroes etc) that is critical of the "redemption through death" scenario. The latest that comes to mind is Star Wars, but there are countless examples. The typical in-story narrative is that the villain had committed too many crimes and there is no place for him in the new world where the heroes won, so he's killed off - usually not by heroes but by tragic circumstances that allow him some positive light before the end (Loki in Thor2, Ben Solo in SW). Fans of the character argue that a fully realised, slow redemption would be an awesome storyline, and that it'd be both interesting and refreshing to look at the life post wrongdoing.

So far, no mainstream media has ever done a fully realised, psychologically grounded redemption storyline. Hollywood go-to idea to rehabilitate the villain is to make the villain useful to the heroes and ultimately just "forget" about the initial transgression. The initial bad deed is never looked back on, addressed or analysed except maybe as a funny oneliner. Because addressing shit is hard... And also because, as Loki series has shown us, the fandom doesn't really want to see the true psychologically grounded redemption storyline.

For the Loki series is exactly this: the first time a character must face uncomfortable truths about themselves, to better themselves. This is a process that isn't nice. It's a beatdown after a beatdown. It's humiliating, soul-destroying, there is much kneeling and grovelling and unflattering names. The character isn't shown as pretty and composed, he isn't allowed to wear nice clothes that give him a feeling of power. He feels useless, powerless and messes up a lot, for his self esteem is gone. He doesn't strut around showing off magic feats and yes, almost everyone around him is shown in better light. Because that's what a true redemption storyline is like. It's a deconstruction of the ego. Eventually, it will lead to a stronger and better sense of self, but first we must crawl on the floor. And the fans, who usually overidentify with the character and his background, just cannot take seeing him, and by extension themselves, in that light.

So what does the fandom do?

1) Insist that Loki does not need a redemption storyline. Because he was tortured by Thanos (this is fanon), because he was influenced by scepter (this is still mostly fanon but has a bit more substance), because he was emotionally abused by Odin (this is almost canon). Now before you crucify me - these are my favourite fanons, my go-to fanfiction, I adore them all. But. There is absolutely nothing incorrect or malicious with the Loki series going "You know what? Loki still carved out that eyeball, and I am not going to sit here and "address" the fact that Odin emotionally neglected him, because that's already been shown and is in the past. I am going to postulate that Loki, deep in his core, is ashamed of himself for his deeds, and that bringing up Odin isn't going to solve that shame, and explore how Loki can move forward from there. The story isn't not going to be about Odin or Thanos, who are both gone and dead, it's going to be about Loki -who is the one who gets to live with the consequences."

2) Insist that the series hates Loki and was written specifically to humiliate him. This ties back to my thesis that the fandom simply does not want to see what a true psychological work of a redemption storyline looks like, for the ego beatdown is the essential part of it. This is how the story of Ben Solo would have had to look like, had he survived Star Wars. This is how Thor 2 would have looked like, had we been following Loki and not Thor: Loki being chained by the same soldiers he commanded, being stripped of his armour, being led down the rainbow bridge and into the palace. In that movie, it would have been worse because he had personal history with all these people. In the series he gets TVA's indifferent approach, which should incidentally be easier to swallow.

3) Insist that Loki is not the protagonist of his own series. Apart from this not making an ounce of sense, this reading comes from the idea that only physical deeds are valid storytelling material. Sylvie is stronger than Loki, hence she's the protagonist. Mobius is in the position of power, hence he is more important than Loki. All the while Loki is out there, doing enormous self-work, changing by the hour and showcasing more stable coping techniques. But he's not glamorous while doing it and he's kneeling a lot, so it cannot be that the writers actually like him and wish him to do well in the long run.

4) Insist that the new Loki is OOC and give him a plain, insulting new nickname to differentiate him from the beloved and cool old Loki. The one who liberated eyeballs while clad in impeccable clothes because he was terrified of Thanos. Or the one whose non-existent coping mechanisms almost made him kill his own beloved brother in despair. The one who had plans upon plans and was always so ready for betrayal that he had no friends on his own. The one who would surely glamour awesome clothes onto himself to avoid signalling any weakness. The one who was incredibly high strung and could never allow any weakness. You guys want that Loki back? Ok, that's fair. That guy was deeply damaged, and very interesting to watch. But then, a story that takes these aspects from him (and make no mistake, all of them are maladaptive and trauma induced - all -of - them) isn't hating on Loki, or making him dumb, or exists to hurt you personally. It allows him to overcome his internal hurdles, lower his defences and eventually arrive to a better place.

So here I rest my thesis: actual well written redemption stories, of which Loki is the frigging first (and how groundbreaking is that) aren't really wanted by the fandom. Most fans would rather whitewash or cocoon themselves in the trauma aspect, leaving the actual responsibility and consequences out of it. Which is fine as a comping mechanism, fiction is escapism after all, you're all perfectly valid... But there should at least be enough self-awareness to differentiate between a good story that's uncomfortable/too heavy for you and a bad story with evil writers who either have no idea about Loki or specifically want to punish his fans.

The Loki series isn't the latter. It might not be the fantasy escapism most would have preferred, but it has a very specific and respectable goal and it's going about it in a grounded way which is - actually - fully respecting of Loki as a person. I swear that the series sees him as more capable of doing the work he needs to do than his own fans.

#loki series #meta #loki #fandom criticism

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moonctzeny · 3 years

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love to hate me

request: celebrity! jaehyun + enemies to lovers + “don’t you want to know how i feel?”

pairing: friends to enemies to lovers! jaehyun x female reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff... this fic has it all folks

word count: 7.514k

warnings: toxic behaviour, public sex, light restraining, jaehyun pulls a ‘white boy punching the wall’ at some point

summary: “You and Jaehyun meet as SM trainees, developing a friendship until he debuts and you deicde to leave the company and pursue a solo career. When you reunite again in a music show and he acts like he barely knows you, you stubbornly begin a series of hate-brimmed sex rendez-vous. Your touch-and-go relationship continues on, until a song collaboration will force you both to deal with all your repressed feelings for each other”

a/n: this is the longest it has ever taken me to finish a fic.. I have a love-hate relationship with this (no pun intended XD). I hope whoever requested this likes it!

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Of-fucking-course you had to bump into him out of all people at the vending machine. All you wanted was a drink to refresh you before you got up on stage, and now you have to deal with Mr. Too Good For This World and his relentless teasing. His eyes, lit up by an amusement that was also evident in his smirk, stayed glued on your body, raking up and down at it for a second too long. Not that you didn’t like it.

“Stare much?”, you bark at him in hopes of snapping him out of his trance, and push through him to punch in the code of your favorite drink. But alas, he always had a comeback ready on the edge of his lips.

“You look ridiculous”, he states and you have to admit that your outfit, though fitting for the Halloween special of today’s music show, was way different than anything else he had ever seen you in. Reincarnated as Dorothy Gale for the night, your stylists had chosen a short, light blue checkered dress, with red stilettos that gave a sexy twist to the character’s ruby slippers. Hair neatly braided in two pigtails, decorated by ribbons and topped off by glittery pink makeup. The image of innocence. Jaehyun had to laugh.

“Says the man dressed up as Woody”

It was unfair, you admitted, how good he looked in that stupid outfit. His hair was gelled back, a few strands framing his handsome face strategically. The yellow shirt fitted him like a glove, its bright colour lighting him up as well. And those jeans, tight in all the right places, just melted over the muscles of his thighs. The ones that you’ve come undone on one too many times.

“So”, he lilts, giving you a once over before lowering both the volume and pitch of his voice, “want a ride?”

You scoff, sparing him an incredulous look, “on what horse, cowboy?”

He doesn’t reply, only points with his eyes to his crotch that is undeniably sporting a visible tent, and you gasp when you see the outline of his dick twitching under your stare.

“Jesus Christ, Jaehyun”, you mutter with a disgusted look on your face before picking up the almost forgotten beverage that the vending machine had barfed out for you. The boy mentioned, however, was unfazed.

“They don’t call me Woody for nothing”

Almost choking at the drink that was supposed to calm you down, you catch his eyes rolling at you through your third cough. Well, that ruins one of your favourite childhood movies. “Don’t pretend to be a prude. Now are we going to fuck before you get on stage of not?”

You can clearly remember the first time you met Jung Jaehyun alone. You always spotted him somewhere in the SM buildings, joking around with his future bandmates, barely ever without company. As a fellow vocal trainee, he introduced himself to you as Yoonoh, filling up the awkward silence while your vocal teacher prepared the music sheets for the both of you to rehearse.

You were thankful the two of you always got paired up together. Jaehyun was charming, easy to be around, funny. He was a model SM trainee with the otherworldly looks he possessed, almost impossible for anyone’s eyes not to follow him when he entered a room. Radiant porcelain skin, soft brown locks, and a dimpled smile that made your heart melt in seconds.

You can also clearly remember the first time you had the privilege of hearing him sing. Jaehyun had a beautiful baritone voice, one that contradicted his flower boy image but matched his manly personality perfectly. The four walls of the small practice room resonated with his sound, that was stable and smooth like honey. The lessons were challenging but Jaehyun made them bearable through spending time with him. Maybe it was your shared struggles, or how you were always tired and vulnerable when you saw him. Maybe it was those damned dimples, but your heart always beat faster when you were around him.

“Sometimes I get discouraged”, he confides in you in that same room, hours later, early into the morning now. The vocal lesson stretched on longer than expected, leaving you two sitting on the floor, sharing a cup of lemon-honey tea to soothe your vocal chords. You let your head rest to the leather couch behind you as you stare into his handsome features one by one. What time was it? Shouldn’t you be back at your dorms by now? It didn’t matter, this was one of those moments when time seems to stop and life seems unreal. When the only thing that you care about is the person standing next to you, and whatever it is they have to tell you.

“I fear that I will never get to debut. There’s handsome guys all over the company. I just don’t know if my skills are enough.”

You thought he was crazy for thinking that way, wanted to scream at him that he’s just perfect and more than enough for the company, or for anything in this world for that matter. But Jaehyun was reserved, the type to always mask his true feelings behind a smile and you were more than glad that he finally opened up to you, that he saw you as someone trustworthy. You didn’t want to dismiss his feelings, so you just pet his hair while you listened to his concerns.

As you mindlessly gaze at the rainy weather outside, a couple of droplets following their own path down the froggy window remind you that time does run by. Even if every day seemed the same, following the same routine, going to the same classes over and over again.

Jaehyun had this sad look that contorted his pretty face and you hated it, reaching up to massage away the wrinkles between his eyebrows. You don’t know which godly creature made the hourglass of time freeze this moment, nor did you know why Jaehyun leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss. Maybe it was his way of saying thank you for keeping your ears and heart open for him, for listening to him when he needed it most.

It felt so lovely while it lasted, two young people leaning on each other during an uncertainty that anchored them far away from their emotional shoreline. But life as a trainee isn’t a fairytale and falling in love can have serious ramifications. So you promise to each other that this will be a one time thing, and then you never speak of this night ever again.

Unsurprisingly enough, Jaehyun got to successfully debut, yet you didn’t have the same luck. The company had plans of focusing on their new boy group, thus postponing your debut for an uncertain amount of time. It was hard for you to decide to switch labels, to throw away the years of hope and dedication you had pinned on this company but the faith you placed on yourself was stronger.

It’s years later when you finally get to promote as a solo artist in a different company, and you are happy to say that the decision you made all those years ago was the right one. The exposure you got wasn’t the same as being in a Big 3 company, however leaving SM entertainment has its pros. Flexible schedule, less scrutiny, great creative freedom over your work.

This wasn’t the first time you have come across your old trainee buddy. Jaehyun had multiple comebacks in a year, so it was only natural that his group’s and your promotions would sometimes overlap. You were only a rookie, and NCT turned out to become pretty popular, so of course the wins were always tied to their names.

The first time you walked past him in the hallways, dark makeup and professional styling making you both almost unrecognizable, you expected a wave, small talk, maybe some reminiscing of the old times. Instead, you got a cold stare or at best, an arrogant smirk coupled with a “Do better next time”. It was shocking to you how much Yoonoh, the boy with the shy smile and awkward social skills, would turn into such a stranger.

How you always ended up sneaking out with him to have a quickie in one of the ready rooms, was beyond you. He rushed you inside before checking both sides of the hallway, cautious to hide from any curious eyes. The coast was clear and Jaehyun doesn’t like to waste time, so he pins you against the door he just closed behind him, face dipped in your neck. You can feel his fingers dancing on the skin of your thighs, eager to explore what is hidden under your frilly skirt, and their delicacy in contrast to his feverish kisses sends a shiver down your spine.

One pretty whine from your lips, then two, three and you can feel Jaehyun smile deviously against your neck. The softness is too enticing for him to resist, so he nips at it skillfully, trying to get a reaction out of you. He recognizes that you have plenty of talent as a singer, yet the symphonies you sing out for him in those little sessions seem to be his favorite.

“Jaehyun, cut it out. I’m going on stage in like, 20 minutes”

“Turn me on then”

Wasn’t he the one that basically flashed you in the middle of the cafeteria for just existing? Isn’t it his hard on that digs against your lower stomach? The demand made you mad, and you wanted nothing more than to entice him with a nice blowjob, only to take a big, strong bite off that cock of his. But see, you had a full face of makeup on and your career is way more important than a fuckboy, so you’ll have to get creative.

Flipping him around so that he’s the one trapped between you and the door, you start to suck on his collarbones , then nibble at the tender flesh. He seems distracted enough by it so that you open the button of his jeans and fully remove his belt from their loops with no objections. Palming him over his boxers to keep him entranced, you manage to bring his wrists together, wrapping the leather around them, then lastly fastening them in place.

His eyes widen in shock when he realizes that he’s too late, wiggling his hands in a futile attempt to free himself. Your laugh is sadistic, making the hairs on his arms stand on edge and you gloat in the effect you have on him.

Giving your palm a good lick, you form a ring with your fingers, wrapping them around the base of his member. He hisses and drops his head back, thudding loudly against the wall. His cock enlarges and reddens as you move your hand up and down, changing the pressure according to his reactions. Jaehyun isn’t one to express himself freely but there is not much he can do to stop the low moans leaving his lips. Not when you rub circles over his tip with the soft skin of your palm.

He looks so fucking good, all squirmy and desperate and trying to hold himself from saying ‘please’. You almost want to keep going, squeeze him more until he whines and begs to cum, and admire the white beads dripping from his slit and covering your hand. Almost.

You halt your movements with a last strong stroke, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back at him. Jaehyun tentatively opens one eye to see why you have stopped, only to come across that bratty smile that he loves as much as he hates.

“You should have dressed up as a siren. Seducing people before they realize you are a man eating bitch”

“If you want someone to jerk you off you can go ask one of your little fangirls. I want to get fucked.”

“Let me go then. And you’ll wish you never did”

You scoff at his cockiness, nonchalantly freeing him from his constraints, and the way he immediately has a hold of your jaw reminds you of a predator eyeing its prey. His eyes have a crazy look in them, moving frantically over every part of your body like he can’t decide what to grab onto first. He decides on your hips, bending you over a table full of snacks and makeup tools and flyers of today’s schedule.

“You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”, he asks you with a peremptory voice that signifies you’d better shut up.

You hear shuffling behind you and assume it’s him slipping on a condom, so you make yourself more comfortable on the wooden surface. A hard slap on your ass jolts you alert.

“I asked you a fucking question”, Jaehyun presses brusquely and flips your skirt fully over your ass, pulling your panties down until they’re bunched up right over your knees.

“It’s fun”, you moan out, breathless both from the pleasure and the stinging feeling on your right cheek, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Was the room occupied by one of the artists that have already been on stage? Or will they barge in at any moment to find you bent over and pussy dripping for Jaehyun to finally dive inside you? He chuckled at the sight of you, eyes feasting off your naked body, your ass up just the way he likes it. Not so innocent anymore, huh?

He doesn’t reply to you, aligning himself against your slit and bottoming out in one go instead. Involuntarily, you let out a small screech, the sudden stretch catching you off guard.

“You better stay quiet, siren. Or maybe you would like it if people found us like this? Saw how good you take my cock whenever I ask”

You wanted to bite back at him, but the only sound you could make was a guttural moan. It was embarrassingly loud, and you fall forward to bite your fist and force yourself to shut up. It was effective, yet Jaehyun had other plans for you, pulling your pigtails towards him in a strong grip that has you against his chest in seconds.

“Nuh, uh, uh, siren”, he hums in your ear, his panting making his voice sound huskier and smokier than ever, “How about trying to stay quiet by using your willpower alone? That way it’s more- how did you call it? Fun.”

He slows down his pace momentarily, as if he’s giving you time to answer him. But the moment you open your mouth to talk back at him, he thrusts particularly hard inside you, forcing a whimper out of your lips.

“Fuck you, Jaehyun”

“As you wish”

Jaehyun was conceited and cocky and a dick, but he was also a good fuck. He kept at it with what seemed like all the energy in the world, fucking you against that table until you came all over him, and your legs gave out. It ended how it always did, with him moaning how fucking sexy you look and how much he hates you, and you swallowing your pride as you swallow his cum. You’d tell each other to fuck off and never bother the other again, until you meet up at the next comeback, to do this shit all over again.

And that’s how things would stay if it wasn’t for that goddamn phone call from your manager.

“...so we thought what better way to promote your new song by recording a duet with NCT’s Jaehyun?”

No, no, no this can’t be happening. No way. Anyone but him.

“Are you sure this is the only way we can promote me? Can’t I just go to variety programs like every other idol out there?”

“y/n, duets by different group members are one of the most efficient methods of promoting there is! And with NCT’s latest song topping the charts this will be a great opportunity for you. Taemin and Sunmi did it. Suzy and Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Punch-“

“Alright, okay, I get it”

“Besides, since you used to be an SM trainee they specifically asked for you. The directors made some pretty big compliments on your work”

Isn’t it a little too late now? Not like they didn’t have the chance to debut you, right? That being said, there isn’t much to oppose to decline SM’s offer; your manager is right and you know it. Saying no to Lee Sooman and giving up a popularity push like that is basically career suicide. Nor could you let your manager know about your and Jaehyun’s little adventures, minutes before you have to go on stage.

“Just send me the schedule. I don’t have to record with him, right?”

“Oh no, they’ll record his part first and then they’ll send it to us. But there will be a music video of course”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

There was this little monster of worriedness that was screaming inside your head, refusing to shut up. This collaboration isn’t going to be easy, but you didn’t want to let Jaehyun’s pettiness get in the way of your career. Fumbling with your phone in your hands, you kept removing and reinserting its case compulsively, over and over again, until you mustered the courage to take matters into your own hands.You knew his number was buried somewhere in your contacts.

you [16:35]: hey it’s me, y/n

Jung Yoonoh [16:50]: y/n who??

you [16:55]: y/n y/l/n? the girl whose guts you were inside in last week? we have a song coming up 😒

Jung Yoonoh [16:57]: oh y/n right

Jung Yoonoh [16:58]: thought you’d have deleted my number

Well you sure have deleted mine, you murmur with your blood boiling, regretting reaching out to him in the first place.

you [16:59]: i always hoard peoples contacts

you [17:00]: old habits die hard i guess

Jung Yoonoh [17:00]: like the habit of me being inside your guts?

You gasp out after reading his last message, hands awkwardly juggling your phone until you’ve forced yourself to calm down. After waiting for a while, until your face has reached its previous temperature, you feel focused again, and type out your original intentions for this conversation.

you [17:05]: this isn’t what i texted you about.

you [17:07]: we have this project coming up and while I know we aren’t exactly on the best terms, this comeback is very important for me

you [17:08]: and i don’t want to fuck it up

Jung Yoonoh [17:10]: kitty cat, relax. maybe this is a brand new word for you but i know what professionalism is

you [17:10]: don’t you ever and i mean ever call me that again

you [17:11]: glad to see we are on the same page

You didn’t expect a message back, nor did you get one. All you could do from now on, was pray that the promotions would go smoothly and Jaehyun wouldn’t do anything stupid that would jeopardize your collaboration.

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And the day you dreaded finally came. The first day of filming for the music video.

You had already finished recording the song, a bittersweet balad about two lovers who lost their way, only for their paths to cross again. When you listened to the demo for the first time, it only took three notes from Jaehyun’s pre-recorded verse to spread goosebumps on your skin. His voice was deeper and even more developed than you remember. Long forgotten memories, shoved deep inside your brain so as not to leave a bitter aftertaste in your mouth, came flooding up again. But things have changed since then.

The sky was crying rain and lightning, fitting to the storm inside your head. Normally you'd be excited to film a music video, bubbling with energy and unable to contain a smile. Today, all you could do was let your teeth abuse the cuticles of your left thumb, until little drops of blood ruined the fresh manicure you got for the shoot.

Following your manager inside the studio, you take a quick glance at all the props the creative directors have prepared. They were very intricate, filled with all different types of flowers everywhere. Some of the fake rooms looked like classrooms, two others were decorated like teenage bedrooms. It was a lot more than you have anticipated.

“The song will be part of a drama OST, that’s why the budget is higher than usual”, your manager tells you as if he was reading your mind.

He leads you to the changing room, where you try on different outfits your stylist has chosen for you, while simultaneously being briefed on the concept of the music video. It’s kinda cheesy and cute, with you and Jaehyun posing as high-school students falling in love. Certain scenes of the drama, whose plot matches the music video’s, will intercept in between.

You’re seated on the makeup chair, sunk in the uneasiness caused by your co-star. Jaehyun had arrived a few minutes after you, his bare face more handsome than you’ve ever looked in your most glamorous state and you can’t help but stare at him. He is all polite smiles and bows to the staff, and even gives you a formal greeting.

You’re not sure why you just can’t bring yourself to stop your legs from shaking as the makeup artist patiently tries to apply a rosy blush on your cheekbones. It’s like you’re scared that everyone will see right through the both of you, somehow enter your brain and find out that you’re replaying your last encounter with Jaehyun in the music show’s waiting room in your head. As you try to read through his expression, to see if he’s nearly as nervous as you are, you defeatedly can’t decode what’s going on inside his head. Not like you ever could.

You glance at both you and Jaehyun through the mirror, admiring the youthful makeup. Blushy cheeks and innocent eyes of two teenagers in love, masking the raw lust between two nemesi. It couldn’t stray any further from the truth.

A staff member leads both you and Jaehyun (who is refusing to spare even one look your way) back to the main set. The director is passionately explaining what he wants to see from you in your first scene, but you can barely focus with Jaehyun’s eyes burning holes through your school girl outfit. You block him out and walk inside the ‘classroom’, spotting the cameras and sitting on your designated seat, while you wait for your signal to start.

Of course, you had acted before. Yes, you had expected for the director to ask you for some more intimate moments with your co-star. But when Jaehyun passed you a “love note” from the desk in front of you, looking all blushy and shy and with his dimples showing, you felt that the role of crushing schoolgirl became a little too easy for you to act out.

And maybe, just maybe he was feeling the same way too. He looked pretty flustered when he saw you dancing across class, shifting restlessly in his seat when you bent forward to tie your shoelaces. Whether you did it on purpose or not, was a question your ego didn’t allow you to answer truthfully.

Most of the individual shots would be handled at a different shoot, so all you had to do was get over this one day with him. That’s what you repeated yourself over and over again. And you did pretty well, smiling charmingly at the camera, with the director praising you for your “innocent look”. You didn’t miss the scoff slipping from Jaehyun’s lips but you were good at ignoring it, focusing on getting through the different scenes in one-shot.

You were currently leaning your body against the wall, playing with your hair while Jaehyun glances down at you, like a boy that is ready to confess to his first love.

“y/n, I need you to give me something more shy, more bashful”, the director yells eagerly, but you can barely hear him, too focused on regulating your breathing. The look your co-star is giving you right now might seem loving and pure to the staff, but you know all too well the motives hidden behind his facade. It’s the calm before the storm, the silence he purposefully keeps to make you squirm, right before he whispers the most sinful propositions in your ears.

Reading him like an open book, you stand still as he leans closer, just enough so that no one besides you get to hear his words.

“Come on y/n, can’t you act bashful? Or is it impossible for you to get embarrassed after getting fucked against the window of a TV station’s building?”

Clearing your throat, you’re suddenly hyper aware of every single sound and movement in the room. Suffocating, even in the light clothes you were wearing, and desperately trying to mute out his words that bring you back to the day he was repenting.

“When you were pressed up against that glass, moaning my name, all exposed for anyone that simply looked up to see, you weren’t too shy, were you?”

You raise your palm to wipe a bead of sweat that has collected on your temple, and breathe deeply through your nose, as if a good pump of oxygen would cool off the sudden heat between your legs.

“Shut up Jaehyun”, you simply hiss through your front teeth, but he isn’t done yet.

“You know I can’t hold myself when I see you in skirts. So pretty. And you love to tease me in them too, I’ve noticed. Flashing me again and again until you get to suckle on my dick”

You were sure his voice was barely louder than a whisper, but the thought of anyone accidentally prying into your conversation had your whole body raising in temperature. The heat didn’t take long to reach your cheeks and you couldn’t remember the last time your legs felt like jelly, as they do now.

“Perfect y/n, that’s exactly what I’m looking for!”

You blinked back at Jaehyun a couple times, your mind trying to process that the director is cheering you on instead of scolding you to focus. The trembling hands, the fast-paced heartbeat, your big doe eyes. Though involuntarily, you had nailed the scene.

“You’re welcome”, Jaehyun mouths at you just as the staff announces a break. He scurries off to his dressing room without a word, as if he hadn’t just spewed his dirtiest of thoughts on set. It was almost as if he was daring you to follow him, but it’s not like he had left you a choice. You were fuming.

“Jaehyun”, you called out to him strictly but he didn’t acknowledge you, only walked further inside the small room with his name written neatly on the door. He was removing some of the heavier jewellery, rubbing the red lines they had left on his neck and wrist, momentarily catching your eyes on the mirror's reflection. They were misty, unreadable, and with how unpredictable you knew he could be, you decided to close the door behind you.

“Closing the door?”, he muses and in just a few long strides he has managed to trap you between his body and the wooden surface. It is reminiscent of your last meeting at the music show, and the memory of you tying him up doesn’t help with the organizing of your thoughts. “What are you planning on doing to me in here?”

You point one finger against his chest, not enough to create any real distance between you, but it comforts you nonetheless.

“What the fuck was that out there? What happened to professionalism?”

“Relax, kitty cat. I was just helping you act better”. His eyes stayed glued on your hips, once again making you all wound up and jumpy under his stare, “And it worked. You should be thanking me”

“I. Told. You.”, you started, tapping your finger on his sternum to emphasize each word, “Never call me that again. Today’s already hard as it is, why do you have to make it harder?”

He takes one more step towards you, his chest now touching yours and your hand that separated you lands involuntarily on his right peck. As if his presence wasn’t overwhelming enough, you feel a hardness pressing against your thigh, and for a moment you worry he can feel how wet you really are under your skirt. His voice is a low, a deep rumble.

“I don’t know. Why do you have to make everything so hard?”

“You are unbelievable”, you scowl at him and free yourself from his trap. You turn to the big mirror to avoid looking at him anymore, and you come to the embarrassing realization of how fucked out you look right now. You had to get out of there as soon as possible, before you do anything stupid and lose any trace of self control left in you. But not before you gave Jaehyun an earful.

“What I meant was that I am out there, being paid to be all lovey-dovey with you. This is not something easy for me you know. It’s basically prostitution.”

You catch Jaehyun’s eyes in his reflection, and for a fleeting moment they turn a colour that you hadn’t seen them in for a long time. Hurt? Disappointment? Whatever it was, it was gone in a second, replaced by that smile that made him both irresistibly smackable and fuckable at the same time.

“Did it cross your tiny brain that maybe someone could hear you? Staff leaks information all the time! If they found out we were fucking…”

“Were? Past tense?”

“Are. Will be. Whatever.” You sigh, defeated, hiding your eyes with your palms as you face him once again. “Like I said, this is important to me. So no more dirty talk on set. Okay?”

Jaehyun avoided your glance, from embarrassment or uninterest maybe. “Okay”

You continue to sit there silently, but your head is so occupied with a million thoughts that you don’t notice. How you will get through the rest of the shooting, whether your manager is looking for you or not, the coldness of the glass Jaehyun had pressed you against that day. The only thing that snapped you out of it, was him suddenly taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing?”, you ask panicking, but you can’t dismiss the pool of excitement in your belly.

“We have a wardrobe change after the break, remember? And since you refuse to leave my changing room..”

You clear your throat, trying your hardest to rip your eyes away from his abdomen, that you’ve so keenly marked with love bites before. His naked skin must have monopolized your attention way more than you realized, as you can’t remember when he slithered his way closer to you, towering over your height.

“Stare much?”, he almost growls, arousal dripping from his voice.

Every fiber of your being wanted to lurch forward, glide your fingers through his hair and start nibbling at those pretty lips of his. The sexual tension, amplified by the argument you just had, was filling the room like a thick liquid would fill a cup. One more drop, one more second of his staring and it would overflow. It felt so real, that you could feel that drop landing on your forehead. Then another one on your cheek, and that’s when you realized that what you felt was real.

“What the-?”, Jaehyun mumbles as he stares up at the ceiling, a big wet spot staining it and allowing the water drops to slowly wet his styled locks. As you start to put two and two together, someone knocks loudly on the door, making you both jump one feet away from the other.

“Get undressed”, a high-pitched male voice that you recognize as Jaehyun’s manager calls through the door, “the rain is ruining the set. It’s a wrap for today”

———————————————————————

A soft touch on your lower back, an even softer breath making your ears tingle. A tentative kiss on your neck that’s full of purpose and makes you shiver.

And then another touch, this time more south on your body. Fingertips grazing over your sensitive clit. Easily moving through your wetness and finally dipping inside of you. That baritone voice.

“This pussy is mine, isn’t it, kitty cat?”

You look up to meet the face of the familiar voice, only to meet Jaehyun’s baby brown eyes. The pleasure was enough to make you ignore the despised nickname, flowing intensely through your body. You let out a desperate moan, gripping his arms to keep your balance. His fingers are now dragging through your walls and you clench around them instinctively, confused but enamored by his touch. You are falling apart.

“Jaehyun? What are you doing?”

“I want to make love to you”

“Love? But you hate me”

He plants another kiss on the slope of your neck, his hands picking up in pace and making you feel like you’re floating on air.

“Love. Hate. Is there really any difference when I’m here, ready to please you? Willing to make you feel things you have never felt before?”

“You already do”, you admit, only seconds away from your orgasm. The bliss is so close you can almost taste it, but for now you choose to taste his lips. They are so soft and warm that you realize you haven’t kissed Jaehyun since that night at the practice room. How you miss him. Not the group visual, not the idol, not even Jaehyun. Yoonoh.

“Yoonoh”, you moan out against his lips as the pleasure overtakes you, a low buzz humming in your ears, “mmm yes, Yoonoh”

“Who the fuck is Yoonoh?”

You finally wake up, your manager shaking you awake being the first thing you see. The sun’s morning rays are peeking through your blinds, warming your skin in lines. Your phone’s ignored alarm clock is still buzzing on top of your nightstand.

“No one. I’m awake, thanks”

Fuck. That makes it what? The fourth night in a row you dreamt about him?

“Get, up. Quickly. We’re late”

You groaned at the banging of your head that was caused by you getting up so fast. It was early into the morning, as you had to get ready for the mv’s second shooting day. The heavy rainfall wouldn’t allow for the filming to continue for another week, yet aided your growing anxiety of having to encounter Yoon- Jaehyun again.

You felt a little stupid, like a kid that goes to middle school for the first time, anxious but full of butterflies in your stomach in the thought of seeing him again. You weren’t sure who the anger, that came with the inability to control the fresh feelings bubbling from your dream, should be directed at. Your manager for booking you this job? Jaehyun for making it his goal to have you dripping wet on set? You, for letting it all affect you so much?

You decide on the former, giving your poor manager the cold shower for forcing you to deal with the problems you’ve caused yourself. Checking your phone, you realise that you are, indeed, late, and wonder how quick you’re going to have to make your morning shower.

“Is Jaehyun and his team there already?”, you ask your manager as nonchalantly as you could, feigning mildly interested in his answer.

“Oh, they didn’t tell you? The other team asked for the shootings to continue separately”. You felt your stomach drop all the way down to your condo’s basement. And the icing on the cake: “Jung Jaehyun’s request”

Maybe your manager wasn’t as clueless to your electricity, or maybe it was your sudden impulse to pluck every loose thread of the pyjama top you were wearing that made him sense the discomfort following what he’d just said. He plops next to you on your bed, boards creaking in the silent room and you feel his rough hands patting you on the back.

“I’m sure he had an overlap in schedules and needed a break, nothing to do with you”

But you knew better, and you knew your palms wouldn’t stop itching unless you picked up your fucking phone and sent him a message.

you [06:30]: i heard you can’t make it to set today. everything ok?

You wish you never did. The radio silence from his number was way worse than any insult, any form of teasing he could give you on set. You even tried calling him, desperate for an answer, a closure even. Maybe he was busy. Maybe the shooting took longer than expected. Maybe he wasn’t avoiding you; one of his managers uploaded his latest story on his instagram, not him. Maybe at the end of the week he would get back to you.

------------------------------------------------------

Going to his dorm unannounced was not a good idea. Waiting for someone to open the door for you, you hope his members will recognise you from your trainee days, or those rare nights Jaehyun sneaked you in when you were both lonely and in need of a… well, whatever you two were.

You’re starting to worry that whoever saw you from the peephole thought you were a sasaeng and called security, when Mark opens the door. His eyes are wide open behind his glasses, clearly not expecting you and immediately yelling for his ‘Jaehyun hyung’.

Soon, the called male arrives at the apartment’s entrance, annoyed for being interrupted from whatever it was he was doing. “What is it, me and Jungwoo are watching the season fina-“

As if Mark suddenly turned invisible, Jaehyun walks right past him, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to his room without another word.

Jungwoo, engrossed with the aforementioned show’s season finale on his computer screen, tries to cover up his naked torso in panic when he notices you.

“Get out.”, Jaehyun orders him, and the younger man knows that his tone is not one to be argued with. It triggers the cold sweat that makes your clothes stick closer to your skin and forces your heartbeat to quicken, pumping blood all over your body. The door closes, leaving you both alone with only the sound of Jungwoo’s laptop still playing in the background. A lighthearted scene that is too oxymoronic against the tension that is just palpable at this point. What the hell were you thinking coming here?

“What the hell were you thinking coming here?”, Jaehyun speaks your thoughts out loud, and you wince at how empty your head is with excuses.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“What?”, he asks dumbly, hoping you would avoid asking again.

“Was it that hard to text me back? Am I such a waste of your time?”

Jaehyun seems angry at your confrontation, his bad mood escalating with every word that is leaving your mouth. He still avoids to look at you, toying with some plushies and decorations next to his bedpost. You realize you never had time to really notice them, barely recognizing them. You always entered the room blindly, pressed up against Jaehyun’s body and with his lips all over your neck, then left as soon as the sex was over. His apathy was infuriating.

One by one, you start to remove all of your outerwear, dropping your clothes on the floor until you’re left in only your bra and jeans. Jaehyun stares at you incredulously, then at the pile of clothes on the floor, unable to make out the reasoning behind your impromptu stripping.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting naked. Seems to be the only time you can actually pay attention to me.”

You reach for the buttons of your jeans, only able to unzip it halfway before Jaehyun has you pinned against the wall behind you, his fingers cool and pressing lightly against your neck.

“I-I fucking hate you!”, he cries, punching the surface to release some of the steam, and lets go of the hold on your neck almost completely. How tempted he is, to just fuck your right against that wall, pour out his anger by pouring out his cum inside you, then ignore each other like you always do.

It’s the easy thing to do, keeping the toxic circle going. All barking and fucking and no real problem gets resolved in the end. He wouldn’t even call a cab for you, preferring to be hated for something he wasn’t than to be rejected for showing the real him. You would still have no idea about his feelings towards you, going around saying how awful he was while asking for a round two. But Jaehyun was tired.

“Can’t you tell that I am trying to distance myself from you?”, he sighs and it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sound so emotionally exhausted.

“Why do you dislike me so much? We used to be friends and then one day you-“

“Friends? Just friends?”, he interrupts you with a chuckle and a sarcastic puff through his nose, and you shake your head.

“If you also think that what we had was more special than a common friendship then why act like you don’t know me?”

“You were the one who wanted to ‘forget about anything happening and never telling a soul about it’, remember?”

“I thought we came to a mutual agreement! I was just trying to save our careers and it worked Jaehyun, you got to debut and I-“

“And you just threw away everything we had like it was the easiest thing to do! Do you ever want to know how I feel, y/n? First you want nothing to do with me, left the company without even saying goodbye. Then I try to forget about you, become an asshole to keep you out of my life and suddenly you want to jump my bones. One day you just play blind to everything, asking for professionalism and now I’m the one ignoring you? What the fuck do you want? A fuck buddy? A professional? A friend?”

“I want you, Yoonoh. Fuck, I just want you”

You’re not sure which one of you initiates the kiss. His lips are as plump and kissed as hard as you recalled, a couple of tears staining your cheeks that you didn’t realize you were holding back. It felt so right, the way his head pushed and pulled away from yours, always inviting you back to him. One hand was situated over the dimples of your waist, the other lost between your hair, untangling it gently. You decided to lay yours over his heart, feeling its tempo and calming yourself down.

You kiss for what seems like an eternity, so drunk in bliss that you can’t remember how you made it through life without Jaehyun’s taste all over your tongue. When he pulls away from your lips, you almost whine, but his fingertips dabbing at the soft skin of your cheeks feel just as comforting.

“I don’t want us to be like this anymore”, you whisper to him and he nods encouragingly, holding you even closer. “I’m sorry for not reaching out to you all these years ago, I just thought ‘What would a brand new idol want to do with a failed trainee like me’-“

Jaehyun brings your fingers to his lips, kissing all your knuckles one by one and you think you’re gonna burst at the seams. “You weren’t a failure, you were the best thing to happen to me back then”. His voice is so sincere that you don’t dare question the veracity of what he’s saying and you let him continue. “When I saw you again I was so bitter, I decided to turn off my feelings. I think I get too comfortable in that role. I put it on for me, my members, my fans even”, he stops then, laughing sadly, “it’s how I finally got you”

It was your turn to open up his eyes to the truth, holding his face between your hands and admiring its beauty.

“That’s not true. I kept staying because I knew what was hidden behind all that armor. I guess, the sex was the only way to get closer to you”

“Not because I’m good?”, he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows and you can feel his dimples forming under your fingers.

“Eh, you’re pretty good too”

He starts pecking your neck, his smile obvious in his kisses and you squeal when he lifts you to his bed. Bouncing on the hard mattress, you let him lay his body weight over yours as he gives you a million traces of his love.

“So, I’m guessing this means we start over?”, he asks reluctantly as he emerges from your half naked body and you hold back from cooing at him.

“I thought you loved to hate me?”

“I think I hate it, but I love you”

#neosmutcollective #Jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #nct smut #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun angst #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct angst #jaehyun fluff #nct

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bvidzsoo · 3 years

Text

White Lilies

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

Warning: swearing, violence, mentions of death, stalking, breaking in, borderline toxic relationship, allude to some mental health conditions but never named

Word count: 26, 815

Summary: Your brother, Kim Doyoung, works for the police. Ever since you finished high school, you moved away from home with him and now you live in a big city. You struggle with different things, but the worst one is the tendency to stalk others. And one day when you walk inside a coffee shop and come across a very handsome stranger, you can’t help yourself, he becomes your next target. Jeon Wonwoo. But he isn’t innocent, you find that out the hard way.

Taglist: @chal-kagyu @taeyongandfree @minkwans @itsdnguyenxoxo @rjsmochii

Unable to tag: @cheolliehugs @3rachaonlyfans @leahxxiong

A/N: Here it is! The spin off to Poison, it can be read as a stand alone, if not check out the mini-series: Poison. Minor things will make more sense. I hope it doesn’t bother you that I tagged you for this too, since it’s connected in some ways. Now, there’s things I have written in this oneshot that are totally not okay and I am very conscious of them, so please, if you ever come across a stalker or someone who harassess you, please report them, your safety is very important. But this is fiction, and I’m allowed to write whatever I want to. All the sentences in italics are the voices that Y/N hears. Enjoy now and don’t forget to leave feeback!

All mornings were usually the same, it was a routine I became accustomed to a long time again. Five years ago, actually, when Doyoung and I moved away from home. There is only a two-year difference between us, so it was easy for me to follow him, having been already done with high school. Doyoung completed the police academy and he was being promoted, brought to Seoul, so I packed up and left my old life in our hometown. Nothing tied me to that place, I never liked it there. My parents were hot headed and they always argued with me, trying to convince me to become a house wife, to find myself a wealthy man that would care for me and for our family. But it wasn’t what I needed; I had always been a free spirit. I liked to explore and disappear from civilization from time to time. Like in eleventh grade, when I sneaked out and disappeared for ten days, the whole city was looking for me. However, I was living in the woods, by the outskirts of the city, in a small hut with a nice, old lady. She moved there after she gave up her job, because she wanted a peaceful life, surrounded by nature only. When she saw me wandering around, she offered me some tea and I accepted it, surprised to see someone living there. The hut wasn’t deep inside the woods, but it still took me by surprise that a lady like her wasn’t afraid inside there all alone. I wasn’t a big fan of forests, but being surrounded by trees and the green scenery always calmed my erratic nature. It was hard for me to stay still sometimes, that’s why Doyoung and I would regularly go on runs, to try and use up my energy on something. In school, I didn’t do very well, but it didn’t bother me. I was able to finish high school and get a diploma, but I didn’t want to go to college. I found it a waste of time and money, I decided I would find something that I liked doing and would excel in it. And with the help of the old lady from the hut, I realized I had a passion for photography. I got my first camera from her, and ever since then I didn’t stop taking pictures. It became my passion and my hobby, it earned me money. I was known for taking nature pictures, sometimes even of animals, and I had my own little blog where I posted all of my works. Sometimes I’d have my pictures put up in galleries for expositions, I earned well during those events. The small house Doyoung and I lived in, was full of all the pictures I took. We lived in a homey, quiet neighborhood, deep inside the heart of the city. Doyoung earned well and my salary always fluctuated, that’s why I decided to stay with my big brother, at least until I had gathered enough money to live on my own.

The house smelled of bacon and peppermint tea as I opened the window of my room, letting the fresh morning air in. I was already dressed for the day, camera packed safely inside my bag, waiting for a call. I wore dark velvet cotton pants and an oversized grey sweater with a deep V, due to which it fell off my shoulders. Ankle high heel boots and a few necklaces I used as accessories complimented the look. It was becoming warmer and warmer outside, which was great, because I never liked wearing coats. Besides, I rarely needed them, I had the unusual trait of not exactly feeling the cold. I was always underdressed during winter and it scared some people, especially Doyoung because he had the impression that I’d catch a cold, but it’s just how my body was, always too hot. I checked my phone to be sure that Mark didn’t decide to text me instead of calling me, but seeing there was nothing, I closed the window and took my bag, leaving my room. I closed the door after me, a habit I had, and headed inside the kitchen. Doyoung was in his police uniform already, moving around quietly the kitchen.

“Good morning!” I called loudly, sitting at the table, with my chin in my hand.

“Good morning.” Doyoung greeted, quieter, and turned around with a plate and mug in his hands. He placed them in front of me and I grinned, thanking him. I took the fork and dug into my breakfast, humming at how tasty it was. Even if our mornings were always the same, the breakfast wasn’t. Doyoung always had something up his sleeves, either trying out new recipes he searched up late at night, or just trying to replicate mother’s old recipes. I took a sip of the peppermint tea and pursed my lips, giving Doyoung a thumbs up as he closed the stove and turned to sit with his own plate and mug in his hands. He chuckled and mirror my thumbs up, before starting to eat too. We ate in silence, it’s how we were in the mornings, quiet. It was the only time Doyoung could savor the silence, because it was the only time I was silent. My hyperactivity followed me through all stages of life, I still struggled with staying still…that amongst other things.

Doyoung cleared his throat and I glanced at him, before checking my phone again, “What are your plans for today?”

“Ah, the usual.” I answered with a smile, trying to look nonchalant, so that he wouldn’t realize I was lying, “I’ll just go to the park and take some pictures if I find something I like.”

Doyoung nodded and took a bite of his bacon, “Don’t you think it’s time to…find a more stable work?”

“Like what?”

“Getting employed at a studio, maybe? You know…you could go to weddings, birthdays…all kinds of events to take pictures.” Doyoung’s suggestion was friendly, but it still angered me. I left home because I didn’t want to hear the constant nagging of our parents, but here he was, doing the same thing.

“I’m a nature photographer. And I wouldn’t like working inside a studio, or whatever.” I said a little harshly, making Doyoung sigh.

“I’m not judging you or trying to tell you what to do,” He knew how I could react to these things, he knew how much anxiety my parents induced when they would try and tell me what to do with my own life, “It was just a brotherly advice, because I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to!” I exclaimed cheerily, my phone ringing at the same time. I shot my hand out to grab it and answered the phone, already knowing who the caller was.

“Target is getting ready to leave, he’ll be at the same Coffee Shop he was for the past week.” Was all the person said before I hung up, stuffing the rest of the food inside my mouth hurriedly. I scrambled up from the chair and clumsily threw my phone inside my bag, trying to chug down the peppermint tea at the same time.

“Who was that?”

“Just some person trying to sell me something—” A burp I couldn’t control surfaced and Doyoung’s eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, but I just gave him an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you after work.”

I pressed a hasty kiss against his cheek, then raced to my car and unlocked it, throwing my bag inside before getting in. I would have to get to the Coffee Shop before the target gets there, to choose a good spot. This is what Doyoung didn’t know about me. I wasn’t just a nature photographer, I worked together with his colleague, Mark, whose job was to gather information about the targets the police had. He was really good at it, but sometimes he couldn’t gather enough information by sitting behind a computer. That’s where I come in play, I go out and stalk his targets. A year ago, Doyoung had a gathering with the colleagues he was closer to and I was invited too. Mark got really drunk and I offered to drive him home, that’s when he started telling me about his work. About how he already almost got fired twice, because his information wasn’t good enough or it was lacking. And because I was always seeking new experiences and new adventures, I proposed to help him. Of course, he’d have to pay me, but I’d stalk the targets for as long as he’d need me to. Until all information that was needed was gathered for him, which he could turn into a report and pass onto the higherups. He accepted without a second thought in his drunken haze and I was beyond happy; but I asked him to keep it a secret, especially from Doyoung. If my brother were to find out, he’d definitely either lock me up in our basement or send me back home, both were things I wouldn’t be able to survive. And being in this city was good for me, it was big enough that it distracted me from my other issues. Back in my hometown, everyone knew almost everyone and it was too easy to find someone you wanted to know. Which was bad for me, bad for someone who had stalking tendencies. That’s why I have been working with Mark for a year now, I was just too good, no one ever discovered me or my identity. I knew how to stay low-key and I knew how to work around the targets without them noticing that someone was trailing them almost 24/7. Having this job, it distracted me from getting infatuated with anyone, I didn’t have the time anymore. And it was a lot more thrilling to be trailing different people each month. It was a distraction from the dark voices in my head, which tried telling me that the next man that appeared around the corner could have been the love of my life. Or the woman that I ran into at the flower shop, could have been my soulmate. I hated those thoughts, and I battled with them my whole life. I used to take medication, it silenced them while I was a teen, but it still didn’t stop me from stalking others. So, as I grew older, I stopped taking them and I started spending more time in nature, where I was alone. Photography wasn’t just a job for me, it was my own therapy.

Everything was set up perfectly, I grinned widely as I leaned back in my seat. My bag was on the chair next to me, the camera placed on the table. For this to work, I needed as many people as there were inside the Coffee Shop to see it. Thankfully, traffic wasn’t bad and I got here five minutes before the target. I sat close to the exit, from where I could see the whole shop well and could run away too if something happened. The target too was really transparent, he sat at the same table he’s been sitting at for the past week. Next to the big windows, behind his table there were a bunch of plants decorating the place and a painting of flowers was hung above it. Which was perfect for me, my plan was coming together. The target has already ordered his coffee, so now it was my time to do something. I took my wallet and walked up to the barista, having hung the camera around my neck. The weight of it was comforting, having worn it for so long, that it became something familiar. I smiled at the barista and looked over the menu behind her, acting like I was thinking of what I wanted, offering her enough time to take in my attire closely.

“I’ll have Caramel Macchiato.” Finally, I told her and she nodded, returning the smile, as I handed her the money.

“A name?” I was glad this wasn’t the barista who took my orders the other times, I didn’t want them to recognize me. I wouldn’t come to this Coffee Shop either way anymore after I was done with this job.

“Y/N.” I answered the barista and she nodded, passing the cup with my name written on it, to her colleague. She printed the receipt and handed it to me, her eyes falling onto my camera. As there was no customer behind me at the moment, she looked at me curiously.

“You’re a photographer?” She asked as the coffee brewer started making loud noises.

“A nature photographer!” I told her with excitement and the barista nodded her head, offering me a friendly smile.

“I tried it once, it wasn’t made for me.” We chuckled at her words and I just shrugged.

“It requires patience and technique, for sure.” I said and she nodded her head in agreement, “By the way…this floral arrangement—”

And then I turned my body sideways, eyes falling on the target. He was just a few feet away, I made sure to speak even louder, so that he would hear me, “The floral arrangement is so pretty! Do you mind if I take pictures of it?”

The barista thought about it as my drink was done and handed to me by the other worker, “I don’t think it’s a problem, go ahead!”

“Thank you!” I bowed my head a little and she bid me farewell. My plan was working, I just needed to do one more thing. So, with the most innocent expression I could muster up, I approached the target. I knew he heard the conversation between me and the barista, but I wanted to make sure he understood what I was about to do.

“Sir, excuse me—” I spoke softly, almost shyly, “Do you mind if I take pictures of this floral arrangement? You won’t be in frame at all.”

“Go ahead.” He answered me with a very uninterested shrug, the wrinkles around his eyes made him look older than the age Mark told me. I bowed my head and placed my Caramel Macchiato on top of his table, turning on my camera. I kneeled on one knee and started snapping photos of the plants, pursing my lips, trying to get the perfect angle. Then I rose to my feet, and took another one, the painting above it being included in the shot too.

“I’ll take some more from my own table, just letting you know…” I spoke up again, but the man wasn’t paying attention to me. I smirked a little, grabbing my drink from his table, cradling it in both of my hands. With a victorious look on my face, I turned with enthusiasm and took a step forward blindly. My body slammed into another body, and we both yelped loudly. Mine was high pitched, but the other one was deep and almost guttural. My heart started thumping in my chest loudly, taken aback by the accident, and hopeful that I didn’t spill my drink on my favorite sweater nor on the person I ran into.

“I’m so—” But when I looked up, I was left breathless. The man standing in front of me was frowning, looking over himself, to check if anything got spilled on him. Thankfully, the lid of the drink was put on really well and the way I was holding the cup stopped it from spilling out. The thumping of my heart became deafening and all I could see suddenly was the man standing in front of me.

He’s the one. Don’t let him slip past your fingertips.

The dark voice, however, quickly snapped me out of the state I almost got lost in. The target, I’m here on a very serious mission, Mark’s counting on me. But the man’s eyes would be forever ebbed inside my mind, I knew I would think about his sharp, fox like eyes before going to sleep tonight…or every night. Round glasses sat on his long nose and he pushed them up with his long fingers, they almost fell off at the impact. When his lips started moving, all I could see was the redness of them and how deep his Cupid’s bow was. Then I snapped out of it, eyebrows furrowing as I totally missed what he just said.

“Uh—I’m really sorry.” I said awkwardly, stepping back when I realized how close our bodies were to each other.

“It’s fine, you didn’t spill any on me…or you.” His eyes went to the sweater I was wearing for a second before he looked back up. His deep voice sent goosebumps down my skin and I very visibly shivered, but I wasn’t cold. The dark blue hoodie this handsome stranger wore seemed to be alright.

“Yeah, I didn’t spill it…” My mind felt like it was made out of gum, I had no coherent thoughts and it made me feel awkward. Taking a last glance at the handsome stranger, noting how his black hair was clumsily parted above his left eye, I bowed, and then willed myself to move away.

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

I walked back to my table and took a seat, taking a deep breath in. I can’t let myself get distracted. I run into strangers all the time; this handsome, deep voiced man wasn’t different at all. I couldn’t let the voices get to me, I had to focus on the target. So, I took a big gulp of my Caramel Macchiato and then looked at the target. He was tapping the table almost nervously, so I turned on my camera again and took two pictures of him, then one of the floral arrangement to make sure it didn’t look suspicious. I looked around the Coffee Shop and my eyes fell on the handsome stranger, who was laughing with the barista. What could they have been talking about? The jingling of the door snapped me out of my own thoughts and I watched as a tall woman, wearing a business suit, walked inside. Her hair was in a low ponytail and she looked fairly young, I almost lost interest in her, but then she sat across from the target. I took another picture of the floral arrangement and then snapped a bunch of pictures of the two, making sure the woman’s face could be seen well in all. There was movement in the corner of my eyes and I saw the stranger sitting at a table close to the front desk.

You should snap a picture of him too.

I cleared my throat and took another sip of my drink, the target and the young woman got up from their table, and I quickly went to grab my bag and pushed my camera inside. As I stood up, a name was called.

“Wonwoo?” And I saw the handsome stranger stand up and walk up to the barista to take his drink. Wonwoo, that’s his name. But I shook my head and waved at the barista with a cheerful smile as I quickly left the Coffee Shop, eyes narrowing to see the couple. To my luck, they were walking on the other side of the road, so I remained on this side and fished out my camera.

So, you’ll leave Wonwoo for that pathetic old man and the woman? He’s not more important?

I shook my head and snapped a few pictures as I walked on the sidewalk, getting to a cross. I crossed the road and cursed when they disappeared around the corner, I had to speed up; and threw the cup in the trash bin as I have finished my drink. I looked around once I turned the corner and panicked for a second, thinking I lost the target. But suddenly, I spotted them sitting on a bench in the park, so I headed that way. I started taking pictures of the river and the few birds sitting by the shore, then of the trees that have blossomed already. The white cherry blossoms were beautiful and I smiled to myself as a light breeze brushed my hair. Then I willed myself to focus again and turned the camera towards the target and the woman, who had decided to take a walk. There was a decent distance between them and I, and to anyone else, it would look like I’m taking pictures of the nature; which I was still kind of doing. The couple walked around for at least five minutes, and I decided to sit on a bench and watch them from there, putting on my shades as the sun was directly in front of me. I was just about to snap a picture of a little duck family, but the woman leaned in towards the target and I quickly started snapping pictures of them. It looked like she whispered something in his ear and then a kiss was pressed against the target’s cheek and the woman walked the opposite way they have come in. I snapped pictures of her alone too before turning back towards the target, who was on his phone. He was on the other side of the river, and I couldn’t have reached him in time, or follow him, my car was ten minutes away from here. So, I just continued snapping more pictures, and my eyebrows furrowed when someone got into the frame. The black hair covered the side of the picture, and I moved a little to the left, leaning against the trunk of a tree. I snapped pictures of the license plate and of the target as he got inside the car, seeing someone already inside of it. I smirked to myself as the car drove away and pulled my phone out, going to my contacts. I pressed the icon next to the name ‘Money Bag’ and it dialed the number.

“Anything?” Mark picked up on the first ring.

“A young chick showed up, but they split up and I lost both. My car wasn’t close enough.”

“That’s fine, where are you now?”

“At the park, by the river.”

“Okay, meet me in front of the town hall.” I hung up and placed everything inside my bag as I started walking back to my car, enjoying the weather and the warm sunlight. Spring was finally around the corner, it was the perfect time to snap pictures of nature, or at least, my favorite time. As a second thought, I took my camera into my hands and turned it on, curious of how the nature pictures turned out. I scrolled past the ones of the target and woman, and chuckled when the one with the ducks came into view. They were cute, people would like this. As I continued looking through the pictures, the ones where someone got into them, made me frown. I was about to delete them, but my finger paused. Black hair, sharp jaw, long nose, round glasses.

You know you can’t delete it. You can’t fight the urge, can’t you? Wonwoo’s the one, listen to us!

The town hall wasn’t far from the park, so I didn’t bother driving there. Besides, I liked taking walks. It helped with calming me, even though I was desperately in need of a run right now. After waking up, Doyoung and I go straight for a run, but I slept in this morning and I’m sure Doyoung woke up later too as he worked until late last night. He said his boss, Sana, was making him work extra hours because she was sniffing around a very powerful mafia leader. I was aware of the illegal things some people did, sometimes the people I had to stalk for Mark weren’t the brightest, I was well aware of that, but I was never offered information about them. It was Mark’s way of protecting me from harm, which I didn’t think did much. If I was caught, they wouldn’t care if I knew or not things about them, I probably would have been still tortured. Which is why I asked Mark to keep the details to himself, if I knew that I was stalking a mafia leader or some other gang member, I probably would’ve been too scared to go through with the procedure.

I was shifting my weight from one leg to another as I stood waiting around for Mark, pouting when I looked down at my wrist watch. I’ve been standing here for ten minutes; I was becoming really bored. I took my phone and sent a text to Doyoung, checking up on him.

From Doyoung: Just had my lunch break, I’ll be heading back to work. It’s possible I’ll be back late once again.

To Doyoung: No problem, I’ll leave some dinner for you.

From Doyoung: What are you up to?

To Doyoung: I’ll be going for a run in a few minutes, see you at home!

From Doyoung: Take care of yourself!

I smiled and as I looked up, Mark was walking towards me. I started waving at him with a big grin, my phone almost fell from my grip, but I managed to steady it. Mark was wearing dark jeans and a black hoodie, with a black baseball cap on his head. If this was him trying to be casual, he was failing.

“Stop drawing attention to us!” He said with a hiss as he came to a stop in front of me and I frowned.

“That’s not how you should treat someone so important to your team.” I said and Mark rolled his eyes, extending one hand. He was gripping some cash and I took it with a grin, quickly placing it inside my bag.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” I said teasingly and Mark rolled his eyes again, I handed him the memory card, “Take good care of it! And don’t delete the other pictures I took; some came out really well!”

“I won’t.” He said with a grin and then looked down at the card, “Your job is done here, wait until I contact you again. You could go on a vacation or something.”

I laughed quietly, giving Mark a look, “Yes, captain, I might just do that.”

Mark shook his head before taking off with a wave, I waved back and then turned to walk inside the second-hand shop. I greeted the lady and told her I just wanted to change inside the cabin, so she left me alone. I changed my normal attire into my running one. Yoga pants and adidas, a black top with a fluffy hoodie over it. I pulled my hair in a low bun and stuffed everything inside my big bag, it’s why I carried it around. Random runs were the best, always exciting as I never knew where I felt like going for one. I smiled at the lady from front desk as I left the shop, heading for my car. The walk was quick because I tried to hurry up, excited to go for the run. Once I got to my car, I placed my bag inside and then locked it, having my phone and keys in the pocket of the hoodie. I headed back to the park where I took the pictures of the target and woman, and first did a little warm up. I stretched my legs out and back a little, and then started running. I took steady breaths as I ran down the path, my pace not very fast but not slow either. My heartrate picked up as I continued running and I marveled in the peace around me. The scenery brought a smile onto my lips as I ran past some couples; I willed my mind to stop thinking. It was a hard thing to do at first, I was always thinking of something, but I had to learn due to the dark voices that would sometimes push me into doing things. I could ignore them, now better than when I was younger, but it was still difficult. The problem was, they could drive me crazy, I couldn’t ignore them forever, and in times like those, I would disappear. Doyoung hated it when I did that, but I haven’t had an episode like that in long.

But you can’t stop thinking about Wonwoo. You want him, you know it. You can’t lock us away anymore, Y/N, we are here. Wonwoo wants you too. Didn’t you see the way he looked at you? He fell for you, Y/N, listen to us once again. Do it. Just ask Mark. He’ll find him in a second for you. You didn’t delete his picture; you have his name—

A loud shout left my lips as I tumbled over some rocks that were on the path, but thankfully I didn’t fall. My eyebrows furrowed as I crouched down to hug my knees against my chest. I can’t let the voices get to me. I can’t let one stranger fuck up what I built up with so much struggle. I couldn’t let a stranger rule my life. I wouldn’t let the voices get to me, no matter what. I was stronger than that. With a deep breath, chest rising and falling quickly, I turned around and started running back. The energy burst I had this morning seemed to have disappeared, which was a good sign. I would have to take a bath at home and then cook some dinner, edit the pictures I took today after Mark drops off the memory card and post them on my blog. Well, that settles it then, I smiled as I came to the end of the path. I slowed down to a walk and took deep breaths, leveling my breathing. I turned to walk on the sidewalk and felt the breeze brush my hair once again, making me shiver a little bit. My body was warm from the run and I concluded that sitting inside my warm car while I was sweaty was probably a better idea than spending more time outside, in the cold breezy weather. But my mind went numb when I saw the black-haired man sitting on a bench with a book in his hands. My feet were still moving, but it felt like I wasn’t in control of it anymore. The Universe was really testing me today. I bit my lower lip and unconsciously grabbed my phone inside my pocket.

No, the Universe is doing for you what you didn’t want to do, Y/N. He’s right there, sitting on that bench, waiting for you. How could you let this opportunity slip past your fingertips? You want it, so do it.

I didn’t realize it until it was too late, my finger had already pressed the button, a picture of Wonwoo having been taken. I hated myself for doing it, but it felt like all stress finally left my body. I felt at ease, I wasn’t fighting with my thoughts anymore, with the dark voices. In the end, I really didn’t have a choice but to fall back into my old habits. And I was doing so well, until Wonwoo showed up. What will Doyoung think if he finds out? I can’t be sent to a psychic ward again, it wouldn��t help. They never help; I hate the medication they give me. I can survive without them too. Maybe if I stalk him for a week or two, I can get rid of the voices and go back to how I was before meeting him. But I pressed the button again, another picture snapped of Wonwoo. I wasn’t walking anymore, I was rooted in one place, mouth hanging open as I gazed at Wonwoo in awe. I must have looked hilarious, crazy even, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t look away; I couldn’t even move. But then suddenly, he didn’t flip the page of the book like he was planning to do, instead, he looked up. And his eyes fell on me, as if he felt that I was looking at him, and I jumped. His furrowed eyebrows snapped me out of my delirium, his sharp gaze sent a shiver down my spine and suddenly I found myself running away. I didn’t care what he thought, I was ashamed that I let the voices control me; it was time I headed home. It would be safer for everyone else if I just stayed at home.

That’s our girl, you’re doing amazing.

The first thing I did once I got home was clean the house, my blood was boiling as I lost grip of the voices, which kept celebrating for I have taken those two pictures of Wonwoo in the park. In that rage, I deleted them from my phone and threw my phone in the trash bin I had in my room, slamming the door shut as I went to the bathroom to grab what I needed to clean the house. I turned on music, played it loudly too, blocking out the noises coming from outside, but the voices in my mind too. Due to my rage, I was done in almost two hours, it usually would take longer if someone tried to clean the house alone, we had a lot of stuff despite it not being a big house. Once I calmed down, I went to the kitchen and made some ramen, sweet potatoes made in the oven, and some seasoned pork. I went and bought beer for Doyoung and myself, and after putting them in the fridge, I decided to check my phone to see if anyone tried looking for me. It was six in the afternoon and I hoped Doyoung didn’t think that I was kidnapped…well, he’d actually know that. For my own safety, he installed an app on my phone that could track me. I only accepted it because I knew he worried a lot about me, Doyoung and I had a strong bond and the episodes I had always broke him mentally, I tried to be a better person for him too.

From Doyoung: I don’t think the ramens in the cupboard are still edible. Text me if you get home!

To Doyoung: Well, I cooked those ramens, so now they are edible! Sorry, I cleaned the house so I wasn’t around my phone…

From Doyoung: Cleaned the house? Are you feeling alright?

I chuckled at the fast reply, no surprise Sana made him stay plus hours if he hung on his phone while on duty.

To Doyoung: Don’t worry, I’m feeling perfectly fine! I hope Sana pays you well if you stay after working hours!

From Doyoung: Don’t worry about that, she stays with me.

To Doyoung: Oh! Someone’s getting it!

I laughed as Doyoung started typing back, imagining his angry and flustered face.

From Doyoung: Don’t be silly, Y/N!

To Doyoung: Okay, bye!

I laughed as I walked to the bathroom, turning on the warm water to have a bath. After the long day I had today, I deserved a warm, relaxing bath. I got a message from Mark, a thumbs up, and I knew the memory card was in the mailbox, so I quickly jumped into some shoes and ran outside to retrieve it. I locked the front gate, Doyoung had keys too, and then hurried back inside the house. I placed the memory card on my desk and then proceeded to undress while walking back to the bathroom. I turned the faucet off and threw some bath salts into the water, pulling my hair in a high bun. I shut the blinds of the bathroom and sighed, biting my lower lip. Would it be so bad if I asked Mark to look up Wonwoo a little bit? I wouldn’t try to do anything, I just wanted to know him better? I wasn’t doing anything wrong, right? I picked up my phone reluctantly as I sat on the side of the bathtub, easing my legs into the water. I went to my gallery and to the pictures I deleted, they didn’t get instantly deleted from my phone, they were stored there for another month before finally getting deleted off the device. I selected the two pictures of Wonwoo and sent them to Mark.

To Mark: His name is Wonwoo. Remember that favor you have going on? Return it by looking this guy up.

I threw the phone onto the clothing pile that was on the ground by the bathtub and lowered myself into the water, feeling bad that I couldn’t resist the urge. It was too easy with Mark, when I was a teenager, I would do everything by myself. It was thrilling to run after someone, watch them from a distance not knowing if they would notice you or not. And if they indeed noticed you, you could always play it off somehow. But this was safer, I couldn’t risk falling back into my old habits. It was like gambling or drugs…you needed rehabilitation from it, but the yearning never really goes away. I hated myself for doing this, but without the medication I so refused to take, I wasn’t strong enough. I wouldn’t admit that to others or myself, living in a lie was always easier. But tonight, I would allow myself to live in a fantasy.

· Name: Jeon Wonwoo

· Birth date: 1996. 07.17.

· Height: 1,82 m

· Siblings: Kim Mingyu, apparently they are both adopted

· Job: Chauffeur of a business man

· Places he’s frequently seen at: National library, Sunday Gym, Red Corner bookstore, various parks around his neighborhood, hiking trails around the forest, Soul BBQ, Sky Blue headquarters

· Car: red Mercedes CLS class

· Additional things I found about him: It seems like he has thirteen close friends, he lives with his adopted brother; but I couldn’t find the address anywhere. Surveillance cameras say that he usually goes to read in the park, by the river, and he drinks a lot of coffee. I’m pretty sure he wears glasses, but there’s few pictures of him wearing it. I’m sorry, Y/N, for some reason this is everything I could find about him. He’s got a clean record, and even the little information I gave you I could barely find. Something’s fishy, but maybe he really isn’t that interesting. I wouldn’t bother with someone like him. P.S. Don’t tell anyone I helped you gain information on him, they’ll fire me!

The birds chirping were the first thing I heard as I woke up, then the hurried knocks on my door. I groaned loudly, voice hoarse from having just woken up, and the knocking stopped.

“Get up, it’s almost 9 am!” Doyoung’s voice called from the other side of the door and I sighed, burying my head in my pillow, “I’m heading in to work later. I can drive you to wherever you want to go, if you want me to.”

That definitely got my attention as I raised my head, “Okay!”

I cleared my throat and jumped up into a seated position, looking around my bed. Printed pictures lingered scattered around the blanket and my laptop was on the verge of falling off, so I grabbed it and got out of bed. I walked to my desk and placed it on top of it, leaning against the edge of the glass. I looked down at the pictures that were on my bed and decided, that I would do this. I stayed up until late night to research myself as much as I could about Wonwoo, but he had no social media. I found a few yearbook photos of him, but they didn’t help with much. Mark was right, he seemed to be a very boring person…he almost felt like a ghost, like his real identity was buried deep down. And that was exciting, so, if Doyoung had already offered to give me a lift, I could just head to the Red Corner bookstore and check it out for myself. Hopefully, Wonwoo would be there. I still don’t know his schedule, but if I start lurking around the places Mark told me about, I can very easily follow Wonwoo around once he shows up.

After having breakfast with Doyoung, we both got dressed and I gave him instructions to the Red Corner bookstore and we were off, rolling down the busy streets of the city. My fingers were tapping against my knees in excitement as I tried to stay still, trying not to alert Doyoung that I was feeling excited about something. But he was my brother, and he noticed.

“I didn’t know going to a bookstore could make you excited.” He raised an eyebrow and I chuckled, shaking my head.

“It’s not that, I’m just in a good mood!” I tried to lie, but Doyoung just shook his head; I knew he didn’t believe me.

“So…now you suddenly like to read?” He asked with a teasing grin and I scoffed, turning to look at him.

“What do you mean?” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, “I always liked to read!”

“Fashion magazines, maybe.” I huffed and it made Doyoung laugh as he drove through an intersection. Once Doyoung was done laughing, he cleared his throat and briefly glanced at me.

“You wouldn’t be so excited about books unless you’re stalking someone.” I failed to pick up on the playfulness in his voice, the way he bit his lower lip to try and stay serious. My heart started suddenly beating really fast and my grip tightened around the seatbelt, my whole body became tense. How did he realize? Did he walk inside my room while I was sleeping? Was it something in my words that gave it away? Did I get worse at hiding my feelings? I could feel Doyoung’s gaze on me, but I couldn’t move out of fear. I was scared of what was coming next and ashamed. But then, Doyoung gasped and I had to look at him.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, panic lacing his words, and I became confused, “I didn’t mean to say that—I—I worded that so badly, Y/N—”

“Oh,” I chuckled, trying to collect myself, “No, it was a joke! I totally get it!”

I couldn’t believe I almost gave myself away. He had no idea; he was just teasing me! I chuckled again, feeling at ease as I turned to look at Doyoung again. “Seriously, I totally got your joke!”

“I’m still sorry—” My laughter interrupted Doyoung and he just shook his head, still looking guilty.

“I could become an actress if my reaction made you react like this.” But in truth, my reaction was genuine and I was so thankful that Doyoung didn’t realize that. He could read people very easily, but maybe as he was driving he couldn’t focus fully, which was great for me. Doyoung sighed and he pulled up to the sidewalk, looking at the Red Corner bookstore, which was just across the road. I smiled and unbuckled the seatbelt; I pressed a kiss against Doyoung’s cheek then got out. He offered me a small wave before driving away. I took a deep breath and smiled, looking around the street. It didn’t look like a very busy neighborhood; a few people were walking here and there. To my right there were many narrow alleys that lead to the main road, and I took off down the street. Why would Wonwoo come to a bookstore in this side of the city if he could go to the big one at the mall? Wonderingly, I crossed the street and carefully approached the bookstore. It wasn’t open yet, so I figured I could go to the coffee shop I saw while Doyoung drove us here. The bookstore would only open in half an hour, I still had time. I walked down the street with a skip in my steps, smiling widely. I had a feeling today was going to be a successful day, but for that I needed Mark to leave me alone. I was hoping he wouldn’t get a new case for at least a week, the potentiality of following Wonwoo around without him knowing had me in a very good mood. Sleeping on the choices I took yesterday definitely did well, I wasn’t feeling as bad about as I was yesterday. Yes, it was still wrong what I was doing, but as long as no one got harmed, it wasn’t something very bad!

I entered the coffee shop and walked to the front desk, ordering my usual drink of choice. When it was done, I walked to a table and took a seat, it was by the window, and took a sip of the Caramel Macchiato. I watched the people who passed by and took another sip, relaxing in the chair, feeling content. The melody playing in the shop was pleasant and I bobbed my head to the rhythm. The bell chimed and I watched the beautiful girl that walked in, her hair was dark brown and wavy. She had bangs and she was tall, definitely a beauty.

You could follow her too, she’s your type. If Wonwoo backfires, you have an alternative.

I almost laughed out loud at the words whispered to me by the dark voices, feeling truly entertained. It was so easy to find someone, like I said, it could be literally anyone. If I found them attractive, nothing was stopping me from stalking them. But I shook my head, took another sip of the drink, and ignored the voices. I wouldn’t let them take full control over me. And as the beautiful girl waited at the front desk, my back straightened as a very familiar red Mercedes came into view. It was Wonwoo’s car. My heart started thumping quickly and for a second I didn’t know what do to, so I relaxed into the seat, trying to stay low-key. The beautiful girl saw my sudden reaction and she looked at me concerned, but I just smiled at her, trying to show her that I was fine. When she turned her back on me, I grabbed my phone and quickly went to the camera, snapping a picture through the window. Wonwoo couldn’t be seen, all windows of the car were tinted, but he didn’t get out. I quickly locked my phone when I heard the heels of the girl getting closer as she walked by me and I waited patiently until she was out of the shop before I sprung onto my feet. My knees accidentally knocked into the table and it took the barista off guard, I hurriedly went up to her and handed back the now empty glass, thanking her for her services. She gave me a funny look but I ignored her as I almost ran out of the coffee shop.

“Bye!” I called to her with a wave before exiting, and stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. Wonwoo’s car was still there, but I didn’t know if he was in there or not, so walking up to it would have been too risky.

Oh, here comes the fun we’ve been all missing.

My whole body was shaking in excitement as I thought of my next move, deciding to walk by the bookstore. I could peek inside and see if Wonwoo was in there or not, the windows were big enough to see everything from the outside. So, I started moving, fingers tapping against my palm anxiously, heart thumping wildly. This was always exciting, but also nerve wrecking. I had to move without being seen…or recognized. But, I was sure Wonwoo had already forgotten my face, I was just an ordinary, clumsy girl who almost spilled her coffee on him.

No, the image of your face has been forever printed into his mind, Y/N. He’s watching you, just like you are watching him.

I stopped walking, the woman behind me almost ran into me as she was taken off by my sudden lack of movement. She gave me a glare, but I ignored her. I was right in front of the bookstore and my heart was beating even faster. What did the voices mean? Does Wonwoo know that I’m stalking him? That can’t possibly be true…why would he…

Are you the only person that stalks in this world?

I shook my head and closed my eyes for a second, trying to block the voices. The thought of that creeped me out and I didn’t want to think about being possibly stalked. Then I mustered the courage and looked inside, seeing two girls at the front desk. No trace of Wonwoo, however, as I looked around the place. Not wanting to draw too much attention to myself, I walked by and rounded the corner, leaning against the red cobblestone wall. Well, if Wonwoo wasn’t inside, he must still be in his car. Which is bad, because Doyoung drove me here. I didn’t think I’d have success on my first day of keeping my eyes on him, so I didn’t find coming with a car necessary. But now, I regretted my decision. With a sigh, I took my phone in my hand and was about to search for a cab, but then I heard laughter. Deep laughter. Coming from around the corner. My heart skipped a beat as I peeked around the corner, he was standing there. Wearing light blue jeans and a turtleneck, his dark hair in his eyes and round glasses sitting high up on the bridge of his nose. I quietly exhaled, taken by the sight in front of me. Wonwoo laughed again, his voice was still deep, his laughter was short but warm. The way his lips pulled up into a huge smile it melted away the cold expression I’ve seen him have in the pictures I found of him. His eyes didn’t look as menacing anymore. Not even realizing that I was doing it, I snapped a few pictures, hopeful that I caught his smiling face. But he was with the beautiful girl, and she was touching his arm. So then does Wonwoo have a girlfriend? And it’s the beautiful girl from the coffee shop? It isn’t impossible.

You could have both…or you could get rid of one…

“Shut up!” I hissed, and quickly ducked back behind the red cobblestone wall, scared that they heard me. They were a good distance away, and there was noise on the street, but I could never be too sure. I hated the dark voices, especially when they suggested getting rid of someone. I could never do it; I didn’t want to. I would go too low, I would disappoint Doyoung so much. If I killed someone, he’d be the one putting me behind bars. I didn’t want to see the pain on his face, pain I caused for him. I didn’t want him to suffer or worry for me anymore, he’s had enough of it while we were still young kids.

The slamming of the bookstore door snapped me out of my thoughts and nervously, I peeked around the corner again, seeing Wonwoo walking away. He was headed towards his car, so I didn’t bother following him at first, but when he went past it without getting in, I grinned. He wasn’t leaving just yet, that means I can follow him around! Fixing my hair and keeping my phone in my hand for comfort, I took off after Wonwoo, keeping a safe distance between us.

And I had a very successful day. Wonwoo stayed in the neighborhood for three hours, just walking around. I snapped plenty of pictures of him, ones I would have to copy on my laptop the second I got home and delete them off my phone. He did go and had breakfast at a tiny local restaurant, which had amazing food by the way. They had some traditional cake that I haven’t eaten before, and I made a mental note to return there from time to time. Maybe with Doyoung, he’s always had a sweet tooth. Then Wonwoo went for a short walk in the park, before he went back to the bookstore. He came out with a book and then went behind the bookstore, to a playground, sat underneath a big willow tree and read. For two hours, he didn’t move from there. His hair was moved by the breeze from time to time, his lips pursed sometimes, and eyebrows furrowed every once in a while. His glasses kept falling off and he had to push them up every five minutes. I’m assuming when something was interesting or tense, he’d bite his lip or thumb, eyes running over quickly the words on the white pages. I took a picture and I was able to see the title of the book, ‘I’ll be gone in the dark’. So, he was into crime books, I looked up and smiled in his direction. He just became more and more mysterious. I was aching to know who he truly was, what he truly liked, I was yearning to hear his beautiful laughter again. And as if Wonwoo finally noticed that someone was watching him, he looked up. And he looked at me. We made eye contact, my heart started beating like crazy, my hands shook.

What will you do now Y/N? Isn’t this just thrilling?

But suddenly a tap on my knee made me jump. I looked down confused and saw a little boy grinning up at me. My eyebrows rose as I watched him; he had his hands behind his back.

“Hello?” I asked confused, glancing around to see if he was with anyone. A couple elderly people were by the entrance of the playground, chatting. He was probably with one of them.

“Hi!” The boy said shyly and I offered him a warm smile.

“Can I help you? Are you lost?” I asked him, making sure that he wasn’t here alone.

“No.” He shook his head with a chuckle, then looked down. I chuckled and looked at him confused; he was shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“You’ve been sitting here for a long time,” He suddenly said as he looked back at me, “Aren’t you cold?”

I didn’t know how to answer him, he took me off guard. What was a little boy doing, talking to a stranger?

“My jacket is thick, I’m not cold—”

“Do you like that man?” When the little boy suddenly pointed at Wonwoo, my heart jumped into my throat. I was praying he wasn’t looking my way anymore, and thankfully; he wasn’t. Actually, he was gone. Disappointment settled in and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked around, trying to spot him.

“He’s gone.” I whispered, standing up abruptly. My legs were sore, my ass actually hurt. I should have moved around, not sat there unmoving for two hours straight.

“This is for you.” The little boy chuckled and I looked back down at him; he was holding a little white flower. I took it from him confused, but he just grinned at me and then ran off. What a strange encounter that was. But after that, I went back to the bookstore, and Wonwoo’s car was gone. He had left. That meant I was done for the day, he could’ve been anywhere, and I was actually really cold. So, I called a cab and went home, changed and then went for a long run. I needed to clear my mind, block the voices that were so violently trying to dictate me my next move. I wouldn’t let them rule over me, I was the one in charge of myself and my actions.

After I got home, I showered and cooked some dinner, then I sat in the living room with the TV on as I copied all the pictures I took of Wonwoo onto my laptop. My cheeks felt warm as I looked at them again. I printed two, one where Wonwoo was smiling and one while he was sitting underneath the tree. The breeze had picked up and his hair was blown all around, he was pushing up his glasses, his lips in a tight line. The pictured offered me calmness and as I was looking at it, the front door got unlocked. Franticly, I closed my laptop and threw the two pictures into the folder I was using to store everything I had on Wonwoo. Doyoung looked tired as he walked inside and I was standing very awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

“Hi!” I called out loudly and he looked up, taken aback by my presence there.

“Uh, hi.” He greeted back, giving me a questioning look but I just giggled.

“I cooked dinner!” I tried to diffuse the awkwardness and Doyoung started grinning.

“Thank God, I didn’t have lunch today, I’m starving!” He said as he pushed his shoes off.

“It’s important to have lunch.” I said as I walked to the fridge, taking out the food I had prepared.

“Yeah, but according to Sana, so is raiding the Sky-Blue headquarters.” Doyoung said defeated and my eyebrows furrowed. Where have I heard that name before?

“Why? What’s there?” I asked curiously as Doyoung took off towards his room.

“The mafia Sana is sniffing around.” And with that he went inside his room to change and come to have dinner. But the report from Mark said that Wonwoo frequents that place often. Why? Does he maybe know there’s a mafia inside there? Or is he oblivious to it?

And you thought he was boring? Aren’t things getting more and more interesting?

“How was your day?” I slammed the plates on the table and it made Doyoung wince. I gave him an apologetic grin as I placed two forks and some napkins too next to the plates.

“Uneventful,” I said with a sigh, going to the living room to grab my stuff, “I’ll be right back, I’ll just put these in my room.”

Doyoung hummed as he took a seat at the table, placing food on his plate. I hurried to my room, clutching the file tightly to make sure it wouldn’t open and free its contents onto the floor as I carried the laptop in my other hand. I entered my room and went towards my desk, placing my laptop on top of it. The file I placed on a shelf of my bookcase and as I was about to leave I noticed how the temperature was a bit colder than in the other rooms. Looking around, I noticed my window was slightly open and with a sigh, I went and closed it and locked it. It wasn’t unlike me to forget to close it back if I happened to open it up. And just as I turned around to leave the room for good, my eyes stopped on my nightstand. Five white lilies were placed in a tall glass with water. I remained rooted to the spot, warmness spreading in my chest. It’s been long since I got flowers from someone. How did Doyoung get these in here without me noticing the flowers when he got inside the house? I chuckled and shook my head as I went to have dinner, stomach churning loudly. It felt nice to get flowers. Even if they were from my brother.

I should have taken Mark’s offer and went on that vacation he proposed, but my mind wouldn’t let me do that. I had a new mission, and it was following Wonwoo around. For a whole week I was vigilant enough that he didn’t notice me and now I knew his habits. In the mornings, he’d take that beautiful girl to the bookstore and then go buy himself coffee. Sometimes he’d go back to that park and read for a few hours, other times he’d leave and go to the gym. He would spend a lot of time at the Sky-Blue headquarters and drive his boss to less or more sketchy places. His boss was Kim Mingyu, it crossed my mind to research him too and follow him around for a day or two, but he was giving me bad vibes. When I trailed after Wonwoo’s car when he was with Mingyu, I felt like the two knew I was there. Sometimes, they’d drive around in the same neighborhood twice and I would have to take different turns in order to make it seem like I wasn’t following them…but it almost always led me to lose them. After Wonwoo was done with his work, he’d go to the national library and spend hours there, so much, that I was starting to worry that he’d fall ill from not eating and drinking enough. In fact, he barely ate anything all day, maybe he did it somehow when I wasn’t watching, otherwise I can’t explain how he remained energetic and standing for the whole day. On the third day of watching him, I decided to enter the library myself and try and find a book that I would enjoy. He switched from the book he was reading to a different one, in fact, every day he read something different. It was confusing, and I was dying to ask him why…but the right moment hadn’t come for it yet. One day, I got so immersed in my own book that I totally forgot about keeping my eyes on Wonwoo too and when I looked up from my book, Wonwoo was gone from his usual spot. I looked around a little too frantically, my knees bouncing fast. I waited for two more minutes before I sprung up onto my feet and took off towards the section I took the book I was reading from. I heard hushed laughter coming from nearby but I was busy trying push the book back in its place, so busy, that I totally missed the deep tone of the laughter. When I finally had the book in its original place, I turned and took off pretty much running, which led me into stumbling forward as my shoes got caught in the carpet. I gasped and ran into the bookshelves in front of me, barely catching myself from falling.

“Are you alright?” A feminine voice asked, and as I turned to answer them, my heart stopped beating. The woman was standing next to Wonwoo and they were both looking at me confused and concerned. I gulped and suddenly my throat was dry as my eyes jumped from the woman to Wonwoo and then back at the woman and then again to Wonwoo. I was waiting for him to point at me and yell that I’m a psycho stalker, but he just looked confused and I quietly sighed.

“Yeah, sorry!” I said awkwardly and bowed my head quickly before turning around and running away embarrassed. It was good that Wonwoo had no recollection of my face, it means that he didn’t pay much attention to me at the Coffee Shop and he also didn’t know that I was pretty much stalking him. As much as stalking Wonwoo made my week better and definitely uplifted my mood, the highlight of my week were the daily white lilies I was finding in my room each evening. I didn’t know how Doyoung was doing it, I could swear I saw him enter empty handed each evening, but maybe he was turning into a magician and was trying his tricks out on me. I didn’t say anything to him, wanting to act oblivious to his nice act if he wouldn’t say something first. But I had my concerns regarding Wonwoo and the relationship between him and the beautiful girl from the bookstore. She worked there and seeing them each morning together gave me the impression that they were on really good terms…possibly even dating, even though I’ve only seen them hugging. So, for that, to check it myself, I had a plan. I bought a copy of the book I saw Wonwoo reading in the park and one morning, on a Tuesday when I knew Wonwoo wouldn’t be the one giving a lift to the beautiful girl, I headed inside the bookstore.

The bell chimed loudly and it was warm inside. The radio was playing through the speakers at a low volume and the girl I was here for was at the front desk. My eyes fell on her and I noticed how she hasn’t had curly hair ever since that day I saw her in the Coffee Shop. She was concentrated on her phone, smiling as she typed quickly. I cleared my throat and walked up to the front desk, leaning against it. It took her a second to realize that someone was standing there, looking at her.

“Oh, hi!” She had a powerful voice; it didn’t take one long to realize she was a confident person. I smiled at her kindly and tapped my fingers against the counter.

“Hi…” I looked around quickly, feigning nervousness, “I’m sorry to bother you here…”

Then I looked at her name tag and read her name, “Hyemi, pretty name! Anyways…uhm, this book…”

I grabbed it out of my bag and placed it on top of the counter, “Wonwoo borrowed it to me and well…I’ve had it for too long and I want to return it.”

“Oh, you know Wonwoo?” Hyemi’s eyebrows rose as she took the book from me and looked at it, “I’ve seen this one laying around in his house.”

Oh, so she knows where Wonwoo lives. And she was there too. You knew this was coming, Y/N, but are you ready to face the consequences? What if you have to give up both? You can always get rid of one of them…you know it’s not hard…

“I’ve met him at the library, sometimes we talk,” I said with a shrug and took the book back from Hyemi, “he recommended it to me.”

I was hoping she didn’t see the tightness of my jaw as I tried to ignore the evil voices. They were urging me to grab the girl by the hair and drag her away. I couldn’t do that; I wasn’t like that anymore. And nothing was sure yet. They can be friends; friends hang out together in their apartments all the time. I can’t jump to conclusions just yet. And I’ve never seen Wonwoo spend time with her except for when he drops Hyemi off in the mornings.

“He really likes doing that!” Hyemi said with a roll of her eyes and I chuckled, putting the book away.

“He does, but it’s fine, I don’t mind.” She hummed and we looked behind her when there was a click. Another breathtakingly beautiful woman walked into the room and I couldn’t help but gape at her. Her lips were red and her long brown hair was in a low ponytail, eyeliner on her eyelids. She looked amazing, I cleared my throat and quickly read her name tag. Irene.

“Everything alright?” She asked with authority in her voice and I found myself nodding very quickly, but Hyemi just chuckled.

“Yes, I was just talking to—” Then both women looked at me and I was lost for a second, feeling flustered. My fingers tapped against the counter quickly and I realized they were waiting for me to tell them my name.

“Y/N!” I exclaimed and my cheeks became warm, “Uhm, my name is Y/N.”

“Wonwoo borrowed Y/N a book and she wants to return it.” Hyemi said with a smile and Irene hummed, looking me over quickly. Then she offered me a small smile and her stern expression melted away. It eased my nerves a little and I offered her a similar smile.

“Right, so…could you give me his address?” I asked, very innocently, as I looked Hyemi in the eyes. She knows where Wonwoo lives, I’m a little bothered by that but at least now I’ll find out his address too. But her eyebrows furrowed and she looked at me apologetically.

“Sorry, I don’t think I should just tell you that…without Wonwoo’s consent at least—”

“Oh, right!” I exclaimed and looked down embarrassed, “That was really…a dumb request, don’t worry! I totally get it!”

“Not to be mean—”

“No! It’s fine, you’re right!” I waved my hands in the air and Irene chuckled as she watched the exchange between us. I took a step back and played with my fingers as I tried to keep on an embarrassed expression.

“I’ll give it back to him when I meet him at the library.”

“Are you sure? You could give it to me and I’ll—”

“I’m sure.” I interrupted Hyemi and walked backwards towards the door, “Have a nice day, ladies!”

“You too!” Irene called out as Hyemi’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit.

“Bye.” She muttered as I hurried out the door, heart beating fast. What if she realized I was lying? Now all I could hope for was that she wouldn’t tell Wonwoo and throw me off from the progress I’ve been making.

And that day when I arrived home, I found more white lilies sitting on the little table that we had on the front porch. I took them and inhaled their scent, a smile appearing on my lips. And as a breeze passed by, I felt eyes on me. So, I straightened up and looked around, but the fence was high enough that no one would see inside, so I shook the feeling off and unlocked the front door, walking inside the house and headed to the kitchen to take a vase for the new lilies.

A few days passed since I’ve been to the bookstore and I had realized that I needed a different approach. Yesterday, Hyemi and Wonwoo didn’t show up to the bookstore and as I went on with my day, I found Wonwoo nowhere he’d usually be at. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, so, I figured they must have taken a day off. But that thought didn’t sit well with me, so, I decided that it was time I took serious actions. A more straightforward approach. One that would set off the start of something between Wonwoo and I.

I woke up a little earlier than I usually would to be able to get ready. We had only one bathroom, and for once, I put a little effort into my appearance. I usually didn’t doll myself up, but today I wanted to look pretty. So, I put on minimal makeup and decided to be a bit bold and use red lipstick too. I pulled my hair out of my face and clipped the front strands back and then I cooked breakfast for Doyoung and I, wanting to surprise him. He was always the one that got up early and made sure we ate well, but I felt like returning this little favor to him since he’s been bringing me white lilies for almost two weeks now. I even turned his morning alarm off, wanting to give him a little extra time to sleep, which was always welcomed as he worked late and had to wake up really early. After breakfast was ready, I went back to my room to get dressed and spent at least ten minutes thinking of an outfit. In the end, I settled on high waist mom jeans and a long-sleeved colorful crop top as yesterday it was rather warm. Then, I grabbed my bag and went to Doyoung’s room to wake him up. He was in a good mood once I told him I cooked breakfast and that I let him sleep in, his laughter echoed in the house as he told me a funny story that happened at work. Breakfast was pleasant and tasty and once we were done, I didn’t wait for Doyoung, I headed out. I told him that I found a new path in the forest that lead to a beautiful clearing with a spring and that I wanted to take pictures while the sun wasn’t high up in the sky, which unfortunately was a lie. I did find a place like that, but it was last month and I had already taken plenty of pictures of it. But Doyoung didn’t have to know that I was back to stalking again, especially not today, when I was so excited about my plan. Before going to the library, I grabbed a cup of coffee, Americano this time as I didn’t have in mind drinking it and it would’ve been a waste to buy Caramel Macchiato. By the time I got to the library it was nearing noon and I was hopeful that wherever Wonwoo went, he’d be back by today, otherwise, I did all of this for nothing. When I entered, the librarian gave me a glance and her eyebrows furrowed as they fell on my coffee, but I hid it behind my back and offered her a warm smile. She shook her head but didn’t say anything and I bowed my head, hurrying further inside. The coffee wasn’t hot anymore, but it was still warm, at least it wouldn’t burn him. I cleared my throat and took in a deep breath, about to round the corner and head to the reading area. My heart was pounding quickly in my chest and I feared that others would be able to hear it in the calming silence of the library. But as I rounded the corner, my mind went blank.

There he is.

I could feel excitement enter my whole body and my fingers started tapping quickly against the cup of coffee I was holding, I had to force myself to stay as still as I could and not take off towards Wonwoo. He was sitting at his usual spot, in the middle of the area and at the edge of the table. He had a book on the table in front of him, his glasses were close to falling off and his black hair was a bit messy. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a silver necklace hung around his neck. My eyes got glued to his muscly arms as he flipped the page and I gulped, trying to focus on my plan once again.

He is a sight for sore eyes, isn’t he, Y/N? No surprise you can’t handle the thought of someone else having him.

I shook my head a little and then started walking. My heels clicked against the wooden floor, but it was a dull sound, and thankfully Wonwoo didn’t look up. His eyebrows were furrowed as his eyes ran over the words in the book, and he sighed loudly as I got closer and closer. I glanced around, but there weren’t many people, and those who were, they were too busy studying or reading. Knowing that no one was looking my way, I knew what I was about to do wouldn’t look suspicious to anyone. I was two tables away from Wonwoo, and as I was watching him so closely, I noticed the sudden tensity of his muscles. How his palms clenched into fists and it almost looked like he was reading the same thing over and over, but I wouldn’t be actually able to tell that. My plan was to accidentally run into the corner of the table he was sitting at and spill the coffee on him. Like that, I had an excuse to talk to him and hopefully he’d even agree to me buying him a new shirt. I wasn’t able to decipher his personality as he was mostly by himself, but I prayed to every God out there that he’d comply to my wishes. And just as my eyes fixated on the corner of the table, to make sure that the front of my shoe would get stuck in it, Wonwoo abruptly stood up. And I jumped and panicked. The sound his chair made was loud and I lost all train of thought as his eyes fell on me and the heel of my shoe got stuck in the edge of the carpet. And suddenly, I was falling forward, eyes widened in horror. Wonwoo didn’t even blink, he just stood there, looking almost taken aback. And then our bodies collided into each other, and I felt the warm coffee spill not just on his chest, but on my own too. I gasped loudly, Wonwoo remained silent and suddenly I felt the eyes of the people who were around us, on us. Wonwoo was tense as he quickly gripped my forearms to steady me, the empty cup of coffee fell against the ground and I felt like it made the loudest sound I have ever heard. But in reality, it barely even made a thudding sound. My eyes remained wide, heart beating fast as I remained rooted in Wonwoo’s arms.

He smells so good. And his body is so firm. Do you hear how loud his breathing is, Y/N?

The evil voice made me shiver and I sprung out of Wonwoo’s hold, looking at him wide eyed. He looked frozen for a second, but then he lowered his arms, and gulped, glancing down at his damp t-shirt.

“Oh my God,” I muttered, looking down at my own damp shirt, this didn’t go as planned, he was the only one supposed to get coffee spilled on, “I am so sorry!”

My voice was quiet as I tried not to disturb the other people in there and Wonwoo finally looked at me. His sharp eyes offered no warmness and suddenly I felt small under his intense gaze. I felt embarrassed and as if I was caught in the act, but it’s him who stood up. This was supposed to happen differently.

“At least it wasn’t burning hot.” Wonwoo’s deep voice reached my ears and I did everything I could to memorize the deep vibration of it.

“Yeah, I got it a while ago…” I mumbled and looked down embarrassed, unable to maintain his intense eye contact.

“Accidents happen,” I could see him shrug as he ran his hands down his abdomen, “And it’s my fault, I was the one who stood up so abruptly—”

“Oh, no—” I looked up and shook my hands quickly, “I shouldn’t have walked so close to the table, it’s really my fault—”

“Don’t worry about it,” His lips pulled into a small smirk and I knew I was going to blush, “I’m not mad at you.”

My cheeks were hot and I felt at a loss of words all of a sudden, almost forgetting why I even planned on doing this.

“I feel guilty though—” I managed to get out, trying to avoid looking at his lips, “Let me make up for it!”

Someone towards the back of the reading area cleared their throat and I realized I was starting to speak too loudly; my leg was tapping against the wooden floor anxiously. I wanted to insist, but I didn’t know what to say next. I needed Wonwoo to co-operate, but I wasn’t sure he would just yet. His expression didn’t give away anything and I bit my lower lip nervously.

“How can you make up for it?” His eyebrows rose and my heart jumped in my chest.

“Uhm, I—I can just, uh—buy you a new shirt?” I hated myself for stuttering, but this was more nerve wrecking than I remembered it being. Has it been really that long since I’ve done this?

“I have plenty of shirts…” Wonwoo’s deep voice made me look back at him and I tried to stay calm. I couldn’t decipher his expression, but he looked like he was teasing me. I smiled softly and played with my fingers, glancing away from him before looking back.

“The mall is literally across the road…and…if you let me buy you this shirt, you’ll never forget that a stranger spilled their coffee on you on a very nice Wednesday…” Suddenly, all tension left my body when a wide smile appeared on Wonwoo’s lips. For the first time, I noticed how his nose scrunched up when he smiled, and how soft he seemed like this. When Wonwoo smiled, he wasn’t intimidating anymore, it was as if I was looking at a different person. My heart started beating quickly again and I felt at peace as I gaped at him, hopeful that he didn’t find it creepy. If only he knew…

“You might need a new shirt as well…” Wonwoo said once he was done laughing and I looked down at my shirt, eyebrows furrowing. Well yeah…that wasn’t part of the plan.

“If you insist.” I said with a shrug and Wonwoo chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’ll put this book back and then we can go.” Wonwoo said as he closed the book he was reading and picked it up from the table. He gave me a glance before he turned and walked towards the tall bookshelves, disappearing between them. I bit my lower lip, trying to contain my victorious smirk in case Wonwoo returned. I remembered the abandoned cup and turned around to pick it up, chuckling to myself. My plan didn’t work, but worked at the same time. It played out a little different than what I had in mind, but in the end, I still got what I wanted.

“Let’s go?” I turned my head and Wonwoo was by my side, eyebrows raised as his eyes fell on the empty cup. I nodded my head and we took off towards the mall from across the road, about to buy some new shirts.

Once we got to the mall I made Wonwoo choose a shop he likes and I’d buy him a t-shirt from there, only if he likes it, of course. In the end, he lead us to the cheapest shop and said that I should choose something for myself as well and he’ll buy it, because it was his fault too that the coffee was spilled as he got in my way. When he pointed towards the shop and said that he wanted to choose from that one, I gave him a look.

“Are you sure?” I asked as I followed after him, “Because I might look poor, but I’m not. So, if you want to wear something fancy, I totally can get it for you—”

“I don’t need anything fancy.” Wonwoo interrupted with a chuckle and I shrugged, walking inside the shop.

“Well, good for you then.” I muttered, looking around. To the left was the men section and to the right the women section, I pointed towards the men section, “Let’s go.”

Without thinking, I grabbed his wrist and noticed how warm his skin was against mine. I didn’t realize it was inappropriate to hold someone you just met, let alone drag him after you. But I was too happy that my plan actually worked out and that he didn’t recognize me at all. Even though he’s seen me twice before.

What if you aren’t remarkable enough? You could get Hyemi instead of Wonwoo, since he doesn’t even remember your face.

I shook my head and stopped in front of racks of various colored t-shirt and simple shirts, “Well, choose one!”

Wonwoo came to stand next to me and his eyebrows furrowed a little bit as he started moving the racks with his left hand. My right leg was tapping against the ground as I looked at his profile. His jaw was sharp and lips jutting out as he tried to choose one. Suddenly, I became aware of the hold I had on his wrist still and released it, clearing my throat awkwardly. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and looked ahead when Wonwoo glanced at me. I could feel my cheeks burning in embarrassment, but from the corner of my eyes I could see him smirking. It made my leg tap faster against the floor and I wished that something would happen that would save me from the embarrassment I was currently feeling.

“This one will do.” He suddenly spoke up, as if he could read my thoughts, and I turned to look at him. He was holding an almost identic t-shirt to the one he was wearing, except this one had longer sleeves. My eyes lingered on it before I gave him an affirming nod, and Wonwoo smiled.

“Your turn.” This time, he grabbed my wrist and started pulling me towards the women section. My heart suddenly picked up its pace and my free hand turned into a fist as I tried to contain my wide grin once again. His grip felt like it was on fire and burned away on my skin, but I was enjoying it, it was a nice feeling. He released me though the second we got to the shirts and I didn’t even look, just picked up a brown see through shirt.

“This one!” I exclaimed and grinned at Wonwoo, holding up the shirt. His eyes fell on it and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you sure?” He asked and I could almost hear a certain discomfort in his tone, but I thought I was just making things up. So, I just nodded my head with a wide smile and Wonwoo sighed, pointing towards the changing rooms.

“Let’s change then.”

“Shouldn’t we pay first?” I asked surprised as Wonwoo took off.

“No, take the tag off, we can still pay.” My eyebrows furrowed at Wonwoo’s words but I didn’t say anything as I went inside a cabin and quickly changed into the shirt I picked. Once I was dressed, I gulped. Well, I certainly should have looked first at what I was picking out, you could see my black bra through the material. And it was a bit too thin for this weather, but if we stayed inside the mall for longer I wouldn’t be bothered. And my car was around the corner, hopefully I wouldn’t catch a cold. I pulled the curtain back and my eyes fell on Wonwoo who was leaning against the wall casually. He was wearing black jeans and black combat boots. The t-shirt he picked was tight around his chest and I couldn’t look away. It was a mouthwatering sight and I gulped, snapping out of it. But the silence stretched on for longer as Wonwoo continued looking at me with an unreadable expression, jaw just a little tight. He kept his eyes on my face, but I didn’t miss the split second they lowered towards my see-through shirt. It made me fidget as I cleared my throat.

“Let’s—let’s pay!” I quickly hurried past Wonwoo, feeling embarrassed for the nth time today. I could hear a deep chuckle behind me, but I ignored it and approached the front desk.

“Hi, we bought these two shirts we are wearing, the tags are here—” I started speaking as I placed the tags on the counter.

“I’m sorry Miss, that’s against the rules.” The cashier very rudely interrupted and gave me a glare.

“Uhm…we still intend to pay though…”

“It’s still against the rules to do that, I have to call security—”

“Maybe you should just scan the tags and proceed on with your life, Kelly.” Wonwoo’s deep voice boomed next to me and I looked at him, his jaw was clenched and he was glaring at the cashier, whose name was Kelly. She seemed to shrink a little under Wonwoo’s gaze and she hesitated for a second, but then scanned in the tags.

“We are paying separately.” Wonwoo proceeded to say when he saw that she put the shirts on the same bill and Kelly apologized quickly. I looked at Wonwoo, eyebrows furrowed at the sudden change in his attitude. He looked stern and demanding, I probably would’ve done instantly what he told me, if he looked at me like that. This is how I imagined Wonwoo’s personality to be like, yet it didn’t sit well with me. Something felt off about his attitude, this wasn’t the first time he was being like this. And it was very obvious that he knew what effect it would have on the one targeted.

“Here.” The girl muttered once she handed Wonwoo the change back and then it was my turn to pay, which went by quickly as both of us were trying to move quickly under Wonwoo’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Uh, bye!” I called out as Wonwoo and I walked out with a bag each and our stained shirts inside them. I stopped walking once we were out of the shop and Wonwoo stopped too, looking back at me confused.

“Something wrong?” He asked confused and I shook my head.

“Not at all…I’m just glad we are even now…” I shrugged and he nodded with a hum, looking around. I tried to shrug off the sudden uncertainty I was feeling. Wonwoo didn’t seem as safe anymore as I had imagined him to be.

“Do you want to grab some lunch?” My heart jumped into my throat instantly and my mind went blank. How do I answer that question? That was definitely not what I had planned, but it was turning even better. But I couldn’t, I felt like it would be too much. Yes, I wanted to get to know him, but I already felt like an intruder. This happened only because of me, I didn’t want Wonwoo to feel like he had to do this. And I wanted to sort out my thought first and analyze our interaction.

“I would love to, but I have to help out my brother.” I lied through my teeth, with a smile on my face.

“Ah…” He nodded and neared me, I felt small under his strong gaze. It looked like he was looking right into my soul, reading my mind. It gave me the impression that he knew I was lying, “You don’t have to feel guilty for spilling the coffee on me, I told you, accidents happen.”

“I know!” I laughed nervously, my leg tapping against the ground once again, “I feel like I should wash that t-shirt…to actually stop feeling guilty…”

And that was the second stage of my plan. Get him to give me his t-shirt so that I can wash it, that way I get his phone number and I have an excuse to meet up with him again. Wonwoo’s eyebrows rose at my words and he chuckled, reaching inside his bag for without saying anything.

“Here.” He said and handed me his stained t-shirt.

“Really?” I asked gaping and he chuckled as I took it from him, “I thought you’d be against it…”

“I’m not,” He said with a casual shrug and then fished his phone out of his pocket, “I’ll need your number in order to get back my t-shirt…unless you’re a t-shirt thief.”

I started laughing as I took his unlocked phone and typed in my phone number, trying to hide the tremble of my fingers, “Shhh, no one knows.”

I winked as I handed him back his phone with my number saved and Wonwoo chuckled, ringing me. That way I had his number too, which I would save the second I got to my car. And then, he took another step and I was taken aback by the closeness between us.

“Tell me…” He muttered, his voice deep and I gulped nervously, “Have we met before?”

He knows, Y/N.

I froze up for a second, looking at him with my jaw having fallen open, “What? I—I don’t think—where—You know, maybe at the library—No! We have never met before!”

I knew I fucked up with my stuttering and the way Wonwoo suddenly started smirking like he was proud of himself for making me react like that. Maybe he really does know and the voices aren’t wrong.

“You go to the library often?”

“Lately, yeah.” I cleared my throat and stepped back, acting like I was looking at the shop behind Wonwoo.

“I see.” He nodded and then stepped back too, holding his hand out, “We haven’t introduced ourselves, I’m Wonwoo.”

My eyebrows rose as I realized we really didn’t, even though I already knew his name. Thank God it didn’t slip from my lips, that would’ve been really bad.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you!” I smiled at him widely and shook his head excited, trying to ignore how hot his hand was once again. His grip was firm and I decided to ignore how our hands touched for a little bit longer than they were supposed to.

“Nice to meet you too.” Wonwoo chuckled and we let go of each other’s hands finally.

“I have to go now…” I pointed behind me and Wonwoo gave me a nod and a small wave, “Bye!”

“See you soon, Y/N.” I shivered at how low his tone got and quickly hurried away, feeling embarrassed, excited, nervous and confused by the vibes he was giving me. Why is it that I feel like there’s something going on with him?

I was eager to get home after the day I had, ready to get lost in my thoughts and analyze every little detail about the exchange between Wonwoo and I. I even considered texting him, but I didn’t want to come off as creepy, or give him the wrong impression. If I wanted things to work out, I had to be smooth and careful about everything I said and did. As I parked my car in its usual place, I noticed how the lights were on inside the house and realized Doyoung was already home. Doyoung was home early! I quickly got out of the car and locked it, almost running to get inside the house faster. It was rare that Doyoung was home before nightfall and I missed spending time with him and going out with him. We haven’t gone on a run together in a long time and I was hoping that Doyoung was up to it. I knocked on the front door first to let Doyoung know that it was me, and then pushed the door open and walked inside.

“Doyoung!” I shrieked, seeing that he wasn’t in the living room nor kitchen, “Hi!”

Doyoung didn’t answer right away and as I closed the door behind me and locked it, I heard the water running in the bathroom. Doyoung was washing up, so I walked to my room and changed out of my clothes and wore something comfortable. I quickly removed my makeup and sighed as I pulled my hair in a low bun, feeling at ease once again. I opened my window to let in some fresh air and as I was about to walk away, I noticed the white lilies on the windowsill. I chuckled at Doyoung’s creativeness and picked them up, taking them inside with me. It was smart of him, to be honest. He parked his car behind the backyard, where the wall of my bedroom was too. So, in order to get to the front of the house he’d have to pass by my windows and that would explain how he was able to sneak in the flowers inside my room without me seeing them. But as I held the lilies, I realized that there were ten pieces this time and I bit my lower lip as a wide smile spread onto my lips. I glanced at the bag that contained the shirts that got coffee spilled on them and I walked up to it, grabbing Wonwoo’s t-shirt. I took it in my hands and, having placed the lilies on my bed, and felt the soft fabric of the black t-shirt. It was bigger than my own torso as I held it against my frame and chuckled as I walked towards my mirror. So that’s what I would look like wearing Wonwoo’s shirts.

You look lovely, Y/N, we bet Wonwoo can’t wait to see you like this. If you proceed carefully, he’ll be yours in a blink of an eye.

I chuckled, letting the image the voices created linger in my mind. I brought the t-shirt up against my nose and reveled in Wonwoo’s cologne. It was masculine and it carried a musky scent and something that I have only felt on Doyoung, the smell of gunpowder. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at the t-shirt, lowering it back inside the bag. Why would Wonwoo’s t-shirt smell like gunpowder? Does he go to the shooting ranges? Is it a hobby of his? No, if it was, I would’ve known already. But before I could dwell on it longer, the bathroom door closed and I jumped, taking the white lilies as I left my room.

“Y/N, are you home—”

“Doyoung!” I exclaimed and threw my arms around my brother, giving him a back hug. Doyoung chuckled and tapped my arms, softly peeling them off himself.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be home so early!” I said as I walked around him, wandering if we had any free vases for the lilies.

“I wasn’t either…” Doyoung muttered and I heard him sigh as I opened some cabinets until I found a blue vase. I smiled in victory and filled it with water, placing the lilies inside before putting the vase in the middle of the dining table. Doyoung was lounging on the couch with a frown on his face and as I looked at him, about to rant about my day, I realized something was wrong. He looked drained; his eyes even looked red.

“Doyoung…” I muttered with a frown and approached him slowly, arms hugging around my torso, “Are you okay?”

He looked up at me and tried to put on a smile, “Yeah! I’m fine—”

But his voice broke a little and I quickly sat next to him, throwing my arms around him as I pulled him into a tight hug.

“Hey, talk to me.” I whispered as I rubbed his back reassuringly. His arms went around me and he sighed loudly, sniffing.

“Well…I was sent home early because the higher ups are in meetings…” He sighed again and I just hummed as I waited patiently for him to continue.

“Sana was found dead this morning—” His voice broke again and I froze. Doyoung’s boss was dead? Who could have done such thing? And why?

“Oh, Doyoung, I’m so sorry…” I whispered, tightening my hold around him. He nodded his head and then rested his cheek against my shoulder. We remained silent as I tried offering comfort to my brother, knowing how much Sana’s death affected him. Not many liked Sana, sometimes even Doyoung hated her, but they spent a lot of time together. And inevitably they bonded, she still meant something to him.

“She was shot in the head once, it killed her instantly—” I wanted to tell him to stop thinking about it, to not tell me anything about her death, but he had to get it off his chest. And I was there to listen, I would always be there for Doyoung, no matter what he needed.

“There were signs of other altercations before her death…” Then he stopped for a second and scoffed, “She attacked a girl, Y/N, a simple, innocent, girl. She just—broke inside her apartment, trashed it and—and tried killing her? I don’t understand—”

“People do all sorts of things,” I interrupted Doyoung’s rambling, “You can never truly know what a person is capable of until it’s done.”

Doyoung sniffed again and then gently pulled back, rubbing his eyes. I let my hands rest in my lap as I watched my brother trying to pull himself together.

“She did it because of a guy—I don’t understand. She was obsessed with this—Kim Mingyu and she attacked Hyemi for being with him, I—” Doyoung shrugged and fell back against the couch, looking up at the white ceiling. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched my brother. Kim Mingyu? It’s the guy Wonwoo works for. Wait…does Wonwoo know anything about this? Why was he missing yesterday? Hyemi…it can’t be the girl from the bookstore, right?

“Is Hyemi alright?” I found myself asking quietly and Doyoung hummed.

“Her friends found her just in time, before she could get hurt seriously. But Sana…”

“She got what she deserved.” I couldn’t hold my words back and Doyoung’s head snapped in my direction, “She tried to kill Hyemi, Doyoung. And she was a cop. Attacked a simple civilian. I understand your pain and struggle but—”

“I know,” Doyoung offered me a reassuring smile and patted my hand, “but it’s very stressful. They want me to replace Sana.”

My eyes widened as I sat up straighter, “Wait…you’ll become head of police then…?”

Doyoung’s lips formed a thin line and he sighed, looking away from me, “I guess Kim Mingyu really does achieve whatever he wants…”

“Kim Mingyu?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Doyoung once again confused hearing his name, “What does he have to do with this?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about that.” Doyoung quickly said and ran his fingers through his damp hair, “I just wanted to be the first one to tell you all of this, and not Mark.”

Before I could press more about who Kim Mingyu was, I froze and looked at Doyoung surprised, “Mark?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung gave me a small glare and it seemed like he was quick to repress the feelings towards Sana’s death, “I know about what you do with Mark.”

“I don’t do anything,” I shrugged defensively, “I don’t even know who that is!”

Doyoung scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Please, you think people didn’t notice Mark’s sudden success this year? Everyone knew he was close to getting fired, until he suddenly turned into this super detective he never was—”

“And how is that my fault?!” I exclaimed, unable to keep it inside anymore. My legs were bouncing quickly and I gave Doyoung a glare, “I wanted to help. I wanted to do something else besides running my blog and taking pictures of nature, alright? This is fun and exciting—”

“And fucking dangerous, Y/N!” Doyoung exclaimed, standing up as his eyebrows furrowed, “Do you have any idea who you even follow around? Gang leaders, mafia heads, powerful business men! These people are shady! If you were ever caught, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything—”

“I know!” I exclaimed and stood up too, feeling desperate for Doyoung to understand me, “But this helped! It really did, Mark offered me an escape, Doyoung. An escape from falling back into my old habits and stalking people. Ever since I started doing this, I—I had no tendencies to stalk others—” Besides the sudden infatuation I had with Wonwoo, but it would pass. I hoped that it would. I wanted Doyoung to be proud of me.

“You just need a good therapist, Y/N—” Doyoung’s words were triggering as my parents would say this often to me and I couldn’t control myself, I shoved him back. He stumbled a bit, taken aback by my sudden outburst. Until he realized what he said, and he turned pale.

“Thanks a lot, big brother.” I snapped and turned around, storming towards my room, “You know therapists did shit and never helped me! The medication only made feel worse after a while!”

“I didn’t mean to say that, I’m sorry—” Doyoung tried to apologize as he followed after me.

“Save it, okay?!” I entered my room and blocked Doyoung from coming inside, “I—I know I’m a burden to you. I hate being a burden. But I can’t live on my own, and I hate that. I want to offer you a normal life, but instead, I’m just hanging on your neck—and I don’t need you to remind me that!”

“That’s not true!” Doyoung looked offended by my words as his eyebrows furrowed, “You were never a burden to me. I love you and I want you with me, Y/N—”

I raised my palm to stop him from talking, “Stop, I don’t care. Thankfully, helping Mark out pays well and I’m close to having enough money to move out. Give me three more months, and I’ll be gone.”

“What?!” Doyoung’s face fell and he went to grab me, but I slammed the door shut quickly, “I don’t want you to leave! We moved in here together because we both wanted to! You can’t just leave—”

“Watch me!” I screamed and I heard Doyoung sigh loudly as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. This wasn’t the time to act childish nor to drop something like that on him, not when his boss just died and he was in grief. But I couldn’t help it, he pissed me off. He would never understand what I had to go through daily and therefore he had no rights to try and tell me what to do. What Mark offered me was a life saver and Doyoung would never understand how much it helped, right up until I met Wonwoo.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” Doyoung said loudly and knocked on my door, but I quickly locked it. I knew he was sorry and he didn’t want to hurt me, but I needed time to get over his words. By tomorrow morning I would be fine, but I needed to be left alone tonight.

“Whatever!” I called out and rolled my eyes, “Don’t bring me any white lilies anymore!”

I waited for an answer but Doyoung remained silent and I really wanted to see his expression, was he mad that I told him that?

“What?” My eyebrows furrowed at his confused tone, “You’re the one who buys them daily—”

The rest of his words got swallowed by my loudness. My heart started thumping wildly as I unlocked the bedroom’s door in a hurry and threw it open, “What?!”

Doyoung’s eyebrows were furrowed too as we looked at each other confused, “You…aren’t the one buying the lilies?”

“And it’s not you who’s been giving them to me?” Doyoung and I seemed to realize what this meant at the same time and as I scampered to shut the window of my room closed and lock it, Doyoung hurried to take on some shoes as he turned on the lights outside around the house. He threw on a jacket and hurried outside as I remained shivering in the middle of the room. Goosebumps covered my skin as I remained staring at the flowers on my nightstand that I got yesterday. Who was giving me these flowers then? And why was this person breaking inside our house?

Aw, does our little Y/N have a secret admirer? Who could it be?

“No!” I shook my head and hurriedly shut all blinds in my room and then went around the house, shutting each one of them. Doyoung came inside looking distressed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll talk to the boys, and they’ll start patrolling around the neighborhood. Tomorrow a search team will come and search the house for any foreign DNA, alright?” Doyoung spoke with a serious tone as he locked the front door and turned to look at me, “Nothing will happen, alright?”

“They have been breaking in for two weeks, Doyoung—” I bit my lower lip and started tapping my leg against the floor anxiously, “Do they want something from me?”

Doyoung walked up to me and held onto my shoulders, “We’ll catch them before they can do anything, yes?”

I sighed and nodded my head, looking around the house to see the white lilies everywhere. They made me feel sick to my stomach, so I walked past Doyoung to take the trash bin and started throwing all of them inside it, cursing under my breath. I should have known that it wasn’t Doyoung. I’m so stupid!

Sleeping was hard last night and after struggling for a while, I somehow fell asleep towards the morning hours. I didn’t have the energy to go and watch Wonwoo today, I was too paranoid to even wear headphones on my run. I kept glancing behind me, until I noticed the police car parked around the curb and two of Doyoung’s colleagues chatting as they had coffee in their hands. I quickly greeted them before running past them, deciding to change my running route out of fear that if someone indeed was watching would already know I would head that way and do something to me. Doyoung kept messaging me every half an hour and I got irritated so I told him to just watch the app where it showed him my location, and at least that made him stop. I was halfway down the path when my phone started buzzing in my back pocket, tickling my butt cheek. I stopped running and unzipped the pocket, taking my phone in my hand. My lungs were screaming for air and I had sweat a lot as I pushed myself in order to try and forget the whole stalker deal. But when my eyes fell on the caller ID, I felt excited.

“I hope you went on that vacation and enjoyed yourself,” Came Mark’s voice through the phone and I chuckled, still trying to catch my breath, “Because I’ve got a new job for you.”

I hummed and breathed loudly, waiting for Mark to continue.

“Am I…interrupting something?” His voice was hesitant and it made me laugh.

“Yeah, my run.” Mark chuckled and I turned around, walking back towards the house, “Tell me everything.”

“It’s a one-day job, but it’s very important. The names are Wen Junhui and Xu Minghao. I’ll send you the details in a message on your other number, delete it once you had it memorized.”

“What exactly will I have to look out for?” I wondered as I passed by the police car again, the officers were gone this time.

“Those two are planning a heist, just take pictures of each jewelry place they go inside and send them to me straight when you think it’s clear.” I pursed my lips and thought a little.

“Fine, but don’t say a word to Doyoung. He knows about us and he’s very mad.”

“I know,” Mark cleared his throat, sounding awkward, “He very much wants to fire me right now. Maybe you heard, but Sana is dead, so he’s the big boss now…”

“I know,” I muttered and walked down the street, looking around before crossing onto the other side, “Doyoung told me. Seems like she was nuts or something…”

“She had it coming,” Mark scoffed and it peaked my interest, “Anyone who works against or turns on Kim Mingyu ends up being dead.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I was about to ask who this man was, but Mark gasped, “Shit, your brother is coming—keep your eyes on your phone!”

He hung up and I sighed as I locked my phone, wondering if I would find anything about Kim Mingyu on the internet. Since Wonwoo worked for him, I’ve seen him a few times, his business seemed pretty serious. Lost in thought, I didn’t notice the guy approaching me and gasped when their shoulder collided with mine. I hissed and stopped, turning around to shout at them, but the person didn’t even acknowledge me.

“Asshole!” I shouted after them, noticing their hunched form. The person seemed tall and looked like he was trying to hide his actual height. I turned to walk when the scent hit me. Musk and gunpowder. I quickly turned around, but the man in the black clothes was already gone.

Was that your secret admirer?

I shivered and quickly ran the rest of the way home, only being around the corner. I quickly unlocked the gate and as I walked inside, my eyes fell on the white lilies that I threw in the dumpster this morning. I felt bad for them because they were very beautiful, but I didn’t want them inside the house anymore.

After showering and getting ready, I checked out Mark’s message and memorized the information quickly, deleting the message. I grabbed my laptop and put it inside my bag together with my camera as I pulled on my tennis shoes and left the house, locking everything after me. I had an hour until the targets would show up to the city center to check out all shops, so I decided to take a walk there, try to use up the energy that didn’t go away while I was running due to it being cut short. I let Doyoung know that I was going out and to an agglomerated area, so that he didn’t have to worry, besides he had the tracker on. I snapped a few pictures as I walked and reveled in the silence around me as I took the back streets, where less people walked. I wondered what Wonwoo was doing, and suddenly I felt bad that I didn’t follow him around today. He’d be at his work place right now, having already been to the gym earlier this morning after he dropped Hyemi off at work and bought his coffee. What was interesting about Wonwoo was that each time he ordered coffee, he bought something different. My phone dinged as I turned onto the main street, getting lost in the crowd of people as I opened my phone and almost shrieked when I saw whom the message was from.

From Wonwoo: Hey…I hope I’m not bothering you…I was just wondering when we could meet up? You know…to give me back my t-shirt.

I struggled for a second to hold the phone in both hands and also not walk into others as I typed back.

To Wonwoo: Hi! You’re not bothering me at all! I washed it this morning…so if the weather is nice, it’ll be totally dry by tomorrow! Is tomorrow good for you?

I was about to put my phone away, but Wonwoo started typing back instantly and soon came his answer.

From Wonwoo: I can’t tomorrow, I won’t be in town and will only get back late. The next day…is it good for you?

I looked around me, noticing that I was in the area Mark instructed me to. I noticed the first jewelry shop and found a bench right across from it, so I hurried to take a seat there.

To Wonwoo: Sure, at noon? We can have lunch, since I turned it down last time…

My heart was pounding in my chest as I waited for Wonwoo’s answer, which seemed to take ages, and in fact only took a few seconds.

From Wonwoo: Fine, but let’s go to a restaurant. The food is better than the one at the mall.

He wasn’t wrong, besides this was sounding an awful lot like a date. I giggled and looked around before typing back.

To Wonwoo: Tell me the location and time?

From Wonwoo: 1 o’clock, but I’ll pick you up. Give me your address.

I hesitated for a second, knowing better not to give away my address to a complete stranger. My parents warned me about bad people, and so did Doyoung numerous times…especially since he became a cop and had to work on many cases that ended badly due to naïve girls going on dates with guys from Tinder. But I didn’t meet Wonwoo on Tinder…and I’ve already been watching him for weeks, I know what he’s like.

Honestly, you would pass on an opportunity like this one, Y/N? Isn’t this what we’ve been working for? Getting Wonwoo? Why did you even bother if you’re about to refuse him?!

When I saw Wonwoo typing, I quickly sent him my address, scared that he thought I was about to refuse him after I was the one who proposed getting lunch.

From Wonwoo: Alright, I’ll be there then.

To Wonwoo: Can’t wait to see you!

I instantly regretted sending that, but it was no use deleting it as he had already read the message.

From Wonwoo: Me too.

I giggled again and as I looked up; I saw a black Ferrari pulling up. I quickly scrambled to get out my camera from my bag and turned it on at lightning speed. I snapped pictures as the targets got out of the car. They were the same guys from the pictures Mark sent me, Minghao and Junhui. Both dressed pretty fancy and I knew they were the targets. I remained seated as they walked inside the first jewelry shop and snapped a picture of it. They didn’t spend much time in, quickly headed to the next one. I followed them from the bench as long as I could, but as they started walking towards the end of the street, I had to move too to be able to catch them. My phone and Wonwoo were forgotten, but just as I got up from the bench, throwing my bag over my shoulder and camera in my hand, my phone buzzed. As the targets were still inside the shop, I quickly checked to see that I had another new message from Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: What are you doing right now?

I paused a little bit, finding his wording a little weird, but shrugged it off. I looked up just as the targets walked out of the shop and placed my phone in my pocket, snapping pictures as they talked and looked around. I wasn’t afraid that they’d see me as there were lots of people around us, but it still felt like I was being watched. They didn’t move from that spot, so I quickly answered Wonwoo.

To Wonwoo: Nothing much, just working. You?

I looked up to see the targets moving across the street, headed to a simple gardening shop. What could they be doing there? I started quickly walking towards it and snapped a picture just as I passed by in front of it, hopeful that no one saw me. Especially the targets. Then they walked out and headed down the street, towards the bench I was sitting at previously. I trailed after them, keeping a good distance as I pretended to look around and snapped a few pictures of the things that were displayed in the windows, trying to act normal and as if I was a tourist. I felt my phone vibrating again, so I checked it with a sigh. This isn’t how I’m supposed to be doing my work.

From Wonwoo: Working too, waiting for my boss.

So Wonwoo was with Mingyu then, probably sitting in his red Mercedes, waiting for Mingyu to show up and order him around. I didn’t react to the text message as the targets started moving again, headed for the Ferrari they have arrived in. Hastily, I snapped a few more pictures of the car, getting the license plate, and once they sped off, I took a deep breath. Well, I wasn’t caught, so that was amazing. Now I just have to send Mark all the photos and then have some lunch, my stomach is screaming for food.

I found a nice restaurant just around the corner and sat at a table at the back, opening my laptop. I copied all pictures on it and then sent Mark everything through an e-mail before deleting everything off my camera and laptop. No traces of what I had done, perfect as always.

To Mark: Everything good?

From Mark: Perfect, thanks again. I’ll pay you later, wait around a little bit.

To Mark: Fine, I have to eat either way!

And then I put my phone away and ordered food, which thankfully came quickly, as I was really hungry. I bobbed my head to the songs played on the radio while I ate, my legs bouncing underneath the table, unable to sit still. Not that it was something unusual. I was slurping up the rest of the soup when Doyoung messaged me and told me he would be home early again and that he could pick me up if I wanted him to. But I couldn’t as Mark had to pay me still, so I told him that I wanted to stay out alone for a little bit longer. And after almost two hours of me sitting at the restaurant, Mark finally called me that he was in front of the gardening shop, waiting for me. Paying for the food and greeting the lady, I left the restaurant in a hurry, glad that Mark finally showed up. In truth, I wanted Doyoung to pick me up, but he was at home by now and I didn’t want to bother him. I would just take a cab as it was getting dark and I didn’t want to walk home anymore. The exchange between Mark and I was brief as usual and I quickly found a cab for myself. I got in and told the driver where to take me and got comfortable against the beige leather seats. I sighed and started tapping my thigh with my fingers, looking out the window at the bright billboards and lights of the city. We went past the first intersection, but traffic was getting bad as everyone was headed home or out to have fun, so we caught the next red light. The cab driver turned the volume of the radio up a bit as he started bobbing his head to the beat and I found myself tapping along it too; the song was catchy. Police car sirens could be heard in the distance, but it wasn’t something unusual. Then suddenly, there was a commotion a few cars behind us and as I twisted my neck to see what was happening, four figures in all black and masks covering their whole faces ran up to the car. The cab driver panicked and before he could lock the doors, his door was ripped open and he was pulled out. I jumped and opened my own door in a hurry, wanting to get out, but I couldn’t as all four doors of the cab were now ripped open and the four men jumped in. I got pushed into the middle by my head by the man on my right and squeezed there as I gripped my bag to my chest. All doors were shut closed and only the driver put on his seatbelt. Suddenly, he started reeving the engine and then crashed into the car in front of us. The car jolted and I gasped as I was sent forward, eyes wide as my heart pumped loudly. God damn it, I should have just accepted Doyoung’s offer and asked Mark to pay me tomorrow. The cab driver was holding onto his head and screaming for help as the sirens got closer and the driver started honking, trying to make space for us to pass. I remained silent and shocked, gripping onto my bag and hopeful that they wouldn’t do anything to me. They seemed too stressed about leaving and getting away from the approaching police.

“For fuck’s sake!” Suddenly the one in the passenger seat shouted, his voice raspy, as he threw his door open and got halfway out. And then a silver thing glinted in his hand and I made myself small as I knew he was about to pull the trigger. The gunshots were loud as people started screaming around, suddenly the cars in front of us started moving aside, the light had turned green too.

“Floor it!” The man to my left shouted and the one in the passenger seat hopped back in as the driver pressed the gas pedal and we were sent flying forward. I yelped and held onto the headrest of the passenger seat tightly, looking ahead. The driver was honking constantly until every car started moving out of the way and we were flying down the road, but the sirens were closer too. So close, that the red and blue lights could be seen from inside the car. My breathing started to pick up as my left leg was bouncing very fast, and I was trying to remain as calm as I could. It seemed like they didn’t want to bother with me, so if I remain silent, maybe nothing will happen to me. I might as well blindfold myself so that I know nothing about where they are taking me and then they can let me free as I haven’t seen their faces.

The light turned red in front of us, but the driver wasn’t paying any attention to the traffic lights as he was speeding and switching lanes frantically, even going into the opposite lanes, making me squeeze my eyes shut. If we were about to run into any car, I didn’t want to see it. My bouncing leg knocked into something and I opened one eyes, becoming aware that these criminals were holding black bags that seemed to be heavy. They must have robbed some place and now were running away, just fucking perfect that they chose this cab! I gasped again as the car was jerked to the right and I was sent into the person on my left, making them hiss. I was expecting a slap or them to scream at me, but they just gently adjusted me back into the middle seat, turning their head towards me as if they realized for the first time that I was in the car too. I could see their brown eyes, and they widened. Mine widened too out of fear and I quickly ducked my head, holding onto my bag tightly. By now, the police was full on chasing these criminals, they were right behind us and the car was jerked to the left this time.

“Fuck this shit car!” A very deep voice suddenly shouted, making me jump, “I can’t outrun the fucking police in this old ass piece of shit—”

“Calm down!” The man on my right snapped, voice tense and raised. My left leg was bouncing so fast that I was getting a cramp in my thigh, but I couldn’t stop, I was on the brink of passing out from how anxious I was feeling. I stopped breathing normally a long time ago and I even started sweating, if only someone would’ve rolled down a window…

“Where the fuck do I go if they are trailing us? I can’t lose them here!” The deep voiced man continued shouting and he honked again as the sirens seemed to become deafening. But the more I concentrated on his deep voice, the more familiar it became. My body felt like it was made out of rock already, but it seemed like I could tense up even more. My breath got cut off for a second as my head snapped up, my whole body sitting up straight. My eyes bore into the back of the driver’s head. I knew that voice, but it can’t be. My brain is just making up things, I’m under so much stress that I started making up things.

“Take the back streets!” The man from the passenger seat answered him, “Boss is waiting at the docks.”

“The docks are fucking half an hour away from here! Start shooting at their cars tires, you idiots!” The driver’s deep voice boomed in the car and I shivered as three windows were rolled down. The three men suddenly all had weapons in their hands and they started shooting at the police car that was speeding beside the cab. I remained staring at the driver as my brain was screaming at me that the voice belonged to Wonwoo. Suddenly, the guy looked in the rearview mirror and our gazes connected. My mouth fell open when I saw foxy eyes staring back at me with the intensity I was used to seeing from Wonwoo, their brown seemed to be even darker as I gaped at Wonwoo. This can’t be happening, no. This must be a joke. But Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed and he quickly looked back at the road, taking another sharp turn as the rest managed to get rid of that one police car, but at least three more were still chasing us. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrating in my back pocket and I let go of my bag with one hand, only now noticing how badly I was shaking. I knew no one was paying attention to me, so I curled up into a ball and sneakily placed the phone against my ear after hitting the green button.

“Y/N?!” Doyoung’s voice was frantic and the sirens were even louder through the phone, “Why the hell are you in the car we are chasing—”

Suddenly, the phone was ripped from my hands and I shrieked, trying to reach for it, “Doyoung!”

But the guys on each of my side held me down and the man in the passenger’s seat had the phone against his ear.

“Listen here—” But he was cut off by Doyoung, I could hear him screaming through the phone, but I didn’t understand what he was saying as all I could hear were my own loud heart beats as I struggled against the men holding me. Finally, my flight or fight kicked in, and I chose to fight as I didn’t really have the opportunity to run. Only God knows what was about to happen, I wasn’t going to sit around anymore. I elbowed the man on my right in the stomach and he cried out loudly as I finally freed my right arm. The man on my left was very skinny, but despite that he was very strong and my arm was turning numb, that’s how hard he was squeezing me. I started fighting against him too, punched him in the face with my free hand, even though he tried dodging it. My left arm was free too and I lunged for the guy in the passenger seat, knowing that I’d kill all of us if I started choking Wonwoo. So instead, my hands went around the other guy’s neck from behind as I started squeezing, the words he was about to say to my brother dying away in his throat. My phone fell from his hand and he gripped my wrists, trying to claw at me with his nails, but he was wearing glows. I started squeezing even harder as Wonwoo started swerving the car around violently.

“Get a fucking grip on her!” He shouted as with his right hand he gripped my bicep and started yanking on my arm. I cried out in pain, trying to elbow him as suddenly hands around my waist and forearms were pulling me back harshly. The guy I was choking started fighting back too, probably close to passing out as his struggling became less and less. But these guys were very strong, and two were pulling me back while one was squeezing so hard on my bicep that it felt like someone was trying to rip my arm off, I had to let go of the guy in the passenger seat. He started coughing and wheezing loudly as he fell forward. I screamed as I was restrained, this time the guys were almost sitting on me to stop me from fighting back. Wonwoo looked at me through the rearview mirror and I knew that he knew I recognized him, his deadly glare made me still instantly. I was rooted against the leather seat as he reached for my phone and hit a button, no doubt calling my brother.

“You want your sister? You play along with me.” Was all he said before hanging up and throwing the phone back at me, hitting my knees as it fell onto the ground. The guys still held me tightly, even though I stopped struggling. The one in the front stopped coughing, but he was still leaned over, holding onto his head as he was breathing loudly. My lungs were rising and falling at an alarming pace as my legs started bouncing again. But then suddenly Wonwoo took a sharp U turn and the police cars stopped following us. The sirens stopped blaring, all you could see were the lights, lights that were getting farther away from us. Doyoung was getting farther away from me, he was in one of those cars! I bit my lower lip and tried to keep the thoughts about me dying out as for once in my life I focused on the voices.

Look at that, Y/N is having the most fun she’s ever head. Don’t worry, you won’t die. Wonwoo won’t kill you, he’s into you. And he probably knows that you know it’s him. Isn’t he just so hot? The way he screamed, the way he’s driving…and you thought he was boring?! His burning gaze makes you feel all sorts of ways, Y/N, admit it. Now calm down, you are getting out of this alive.

The voices weren’t helpful as they were rambling about Wonwoo, but I did take a deep breath and noticed that until I was zoned out, he stopped driving at a crazy speed. We were downtown, but nowhere close to the docks. Wonwoo pulled up into the parking lot of a poorly lit convenience store, where a police car was already there. But all lights were off and only one man was there, walking around the car anxiously. It was Doyoung and my heart almost jumped out of my chest when Wonwoo stopped the car just next to Doyoung’s police car. The doors were kicked open again and I jumped when the guy on my left held onto my bicep, Wonwoo squeezed me so hard that my whole arm was on fire, it would bruise so ugly. I was pulled out of the car, but not manhandled, as Doyoung came to a stop at the back of the car. The guy let go of me and I took two hurried steps, but someone blocked my path, and I ran into their hard chest. Musk and gunpowder. I didn’t look up at Wonwoo, only stared at his chest as I held my bag against my stomach, my whole-body trembling.

“Say a word to anyone about this, I know where you live and I won’t hesitate to find you.” His deep voice was low as he whispered to me, radiating anger. I bit my lower lip and said nothing as I knocked into him hard and walked past to get to Doyoung. He was quick to pull me into his arms and I clung onto him, telling myself that I was finally safe. It was silent as no one dared to say anything; Doyoung was so tense, he felt like I was hugging a rock.

“If you ever again put my sister into danger, I won’t hesitate to continue what Sana started. You’re lucky I’ve known Mingyu since we were kids, otherwise you’d be laying in jail for life right now.” Doyoung was so angry, his voice trembled and it even raised a few octaves as he spoke to the criminals. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was just letting them off like that? They were criminals!

“Your generosity will be always returned, you know that, Doyoung.” The guy I choked could barely speak, his voice was a low rasp and then I heard something colliding against the concrete. Doyoung moved us a little as car doors were closed and the engine of the cab started again as Wonwoo pulled out of the parking lot with the tires screeching. I let go of Doyoung and looked at him disappointed, lips trembling.

“You’re a corrupt cop?” I managed to say as a few tears fell from my eyes. He looked down at the bag and picked it up, remorse showing on his face.

“You weren’t supposed to find out, but it’s a complicated story—”

“Nothing about this is complicated!” I shouted, angrily wiping the tears off my cheeks, “You just let four criminals run off like nothing happened! Like I couldn’t have been killed in that chase or afterwards by them! If people like you are the ones protecting this city everyone should be afraid for their own lives!”

Doyoung’s face got red and he pointed a finger at me, “You don’t get to tell me what’s wrong and what’s right! I’m not perfect; you think you’re the only one with flaws, Y/N?! Wake up! I’m not the perfect brother you always make me out to be! Once you start working for the mafia there’s no way out—”

“You work for the mafia?!” I screamed, seeing Doyoung in a different light for the first time. He really wasn’t the person I thought he was. The innocent Doyoung never existed, at least not since he’s been working for the mafia apparently.

“No, but I help them out sometimes. Mingyu and I made a pact a long time ago—”

“Kim Mingyu is the mafia leader?”

“Yes—”

“Who is Jeon Wonwoo?” Doyoung paused for a second, eyebrows furrowing. I raised my eyebrows at him as I waited for an answer. Oh, and he was going to give me all the answers I wanted.

“A very skilled getaway driver, Mingyu’s closest and most trusted friend, and his chauffeur.” Doyoung answered me after he took a deep breath, searching my face for a reaction. But it never came, I surpassed it. I felt tired and I was aching all over, I need a warm bath and sleep. I didn’t even want to know anything anymore, that was enough.

“Let’s go home.” I said with a sigh and walked up to the police car, “I’m very tired.”

“Y/N—”

“Now, Doyoung.” I snapped and opened the door, sitting inside angrily. Doyoung shook his head before following suit, remaining silent for the rest of the night.

Isn’t Wonwoo just the most amazing person you’ve ever—Shut up, I shouted in my head, closing my eyes tightly. I was done listening to the voices. I wanted nothing to do with them anymore. No, Wonwoo was a criminal and he made it very clear what he’d do if I said anything about what happened. I was going to ask Mark to return that damned t-shirt to him and I never wanted to see Wonwoo again or talk to him again. I blocked his number and deleted all pictures I had of him in my phone. In the morning, when I was home alone, I was going to burn every single thing I had collected about him, every single picture I snapped. He was a criminal and I wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

Ever since last night Doyoung was acting like I was an alien. He didn’t speak to me; he didn’t even look at me! He quietly greeted me when I walked to the kitchen to have breakfast, but before I could thank him for making breakfast or ask him how he slept, he was out of the front door. He barely checked up on me all day, and when I gave him a call to ask him if he’d come home for lunch as I cooked food, he didn’t answer but sent a text saying that he couldn’t speak to me at the moment. It was pissing me off. I didn’t want him to make this harder for us. What I found out was a lot to take in and I wasn’t proud of him, but he was my brother and he was the only person who stood by my side since day one without judging me. I loved him very much and I needed him next to me. I needed him to understand that nothing changed between us, besides the fact that currently I was very pissed off and scared. The police were still patrolling around the neighborhood as no DNA was found inside the house that didn’t belong to us, and honestly, I was on the verge of inviting the officers inside the house as I jumped at every sound. Sleep came easily as I was very stressed, but my eyes opened at five in morning and I haven’t been able to go back to sleep, so I got to work. I gathered everything I had on Wonwoo and threw it in the fireplace in the back garden and watched it as it burned away in the morning light. It eased my nerves a little bit as I clutched the blanket tighter around me, knowing that Wonwoo was out of town today. But tomorrow he wouldn’t be, and I had a feeling that he was still going to want to meet up with me. But I didn’t want to, not anymore. Knowing that Mark wasn’t sleeping at that hour, I called him, and told him everything that happened. He was very sorry and felt really guilty and promised to never send me off to watch mafia members, I was content with that. Watching shady business men was alright, but following mafia members wasn’t fun anymore. I stayed inside the whole day after I went on my run and just cleaned and cooked even more. I updated my blog and accepted a request of someone to put up my photos in their gallery next month. Since Mark wasn’t going to contact me for a while now, I started looking for vacation destinations. I really needed it, I had to get away from the city for a while. The voices went quiet and even when I listened closely, I only heard intangible whispers. It was good, it meant I was over Wonwoo. Even if I wasn’t really. The fairytale I was living in was shattered and as I glanced at his folded t-shirt, I sighed. I was hoping that for once I finally found someone who would be good for me, but it turned out I was very wrong. Usually my hunches were good, but this time I was totally blinded by his attractiveness and the voices that never knew better. Shaking my head, I remembered the old lady from the woods and wondered if she was still alive…or if she’d recognize me if I showed up. She told me she’d welcome me anytime again, but I didn’t visit her very frequently as my family was keeping a close eye on me after I ran away, and it was fine. But now, I craved to be engulfed in total silence and the green nature around me.

Nightfall came and I was eating on the couch as I watched a reality show, laughing loudly when something was amusing. It wasn’t very late, but the sun still set early as we haven’t passed the spring solstice yet. I just bit into the meatball I made for lunch when the front door was unlocked and I heard Doyoung’s keys.

“Hi!” I called out with my mouth full, raising the hand with which I was holding the fork to wave at him. Doyoung hummed and went to the fridge directly and opened it.

“Oh, I made a lot of food today,” I said as I turned around, resting both legs on the couch, “Meatballs, found some spaghetti too so I made some sauce for it. I made a salad with the veggies we had and lentil cream soup, your favorite!”

But Doyoung didn’t react and my eyebrows furrowed as I chewed the food I had in my mouth. This had do end right now, I wasn’t going to let my brother treat me like I was invisible just because I found out that he’s a corrupt cop.

“Hey!” I snapped, placing the plate on the coffee table forcefully, “Stop being a pussy and face me!”

Doyoung sighed and threw a glance at me as he took out the soup and I spoke again, “Aren’t I the one supposed to be giving you the silent treatment?!”

Doyoung just shrugged as he took a bowl and poured soup into it, “I don’t know…”

“Nice to hear you are still able to speak—”

“Are you not mad?” Doyoung cut me off before I could finish my sarcastic remark and I glared at him.

“I’m very mad, but it doesn’t mean that I’ll stop acknowledging you, yeah? What kind of shit person does that?” I rolled my eyes and Doyoung chuckled, throwing a glance at me as he sat at the table to eat.

“The me kind of shit person apparently.” I chuckled and resumed eating as Doyoung did too. I lowered the volume of the TV a little bit and turned back towards him again, taking in his attire. His uniform changed; I didn’t notice it this morning.

“You have a new uniform?” I asked with a grin and Doyoung nodded, looking down at himself.

“Yeah, I got it today.” I nodded and bit into the meatball.

“Well, congratulations—next time lock the mafia guys up, yeah?” Doyoung paused and I knew it was too soon to joke about this, but I wasn’t exactly joking. My tone wasn’t playful at all and Doyoung sighed, wordlessly nodding as he started slurping his soup.

“Were you that hungry? You didn’t even change…” I wondered as Doyoung finished eating and stood up.

“No, but I have to go to the funeral house. It’s Sana’s watcher…” My lips formed a thin line as I nodded, finishing my dinner wordlessly as Doyoung moved around the kitchen. He squeezed some lemon in his water and drank it, closing his eyes for a second. His body seemed tense and he was hunched a little forward as he washed away the dishes he used.

“Don’t come too late, you should rest more.” I said as Doyoung nodded and put on his shoes, taking his keys.

“You too, don’t wait for me.” He said and I nodded, watching him leave the house. The locked the door and I sighed, getting up from the couch. I walked to the sink and washed the plate and fork I used, putting them away. I left the TV on as I just wanted to change into my pajamas and go back to watch something before bed. But as I reached my door, I heard footsteps outside the front door and knocking. Rolling my eyes, I walked to the front door and unlocked it, ready to tease Doyoung for forgetting something at home again. But it wasn’t Doyoung. I froze as I stared at Wonwoo’s face, goosebumps suddenly covering my body. Then I realized it was Wonwoo and quickly tried to slam the door closed, but Wonwoo was quick to react and he started pushing it back. I hissed and put all of my weight against it, struggling to close it as Wonwoo was pushing just as hard to open it up. I was wearing socks and my right leg slipped on the tiles and Wonwoo gained advantage as my weight shifted. He was able to push it wide enough to slip inside and I quickly abandoned the thought of trying to keep him out of the house and ran to the cupboard full of knives. I quickly opened it and took out the sharpest knife we had and turned around, just in time as Wonwoo almost reached me.

“Stay away!” I pointed the knife at him and he stayed rooted, his sharp eyes gazing into mine, “What do you want? I didn’t say anything to anyone—Doyoung already knew about you! You want your bloody t-shirt?! It’s in my room!”

Wonwoo remained silent and I jerked my hand slightly, showing him that I wasn’t afraid to stab him. I wouldn’t go down without a good fight, in case he thought I was scared of him. Which I was, but I was angrier right now and it ruled over my fear.

“I just came to talk.” Wonwoo said calmly and I chuckled dryly, rolling my eyes.

“Oh, nice talking. This is how you usually do it? You break into someone’s house and get threatened by a knife and then just…talk?”

“I usually don’t get threatened.” Wonwoo answered with a shrug and I huffed, eyes darting towards my phone that was on the coffee table. If I outsmart Wonwoo, I can get to my phone and run inside my room and jump out the window. Then he can try and talk to me, but I won’t be here anymore.

“Well…less stressful for you, I guess.” I tried stalling, gripping the knife tighter, “But I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“Just listen to me, I’m not here to hurt you.” Wonwoo’s voice softened and his eyes did too as he tried pleading me with his gaze. I rolled my eyes and then lunged towards him, without the intention of stabbing him. I just wanted to take him off guard, to distract him. And it worked as he jumped back with a gasp, his sharp eyes widening. I dropped the knife and pushed him hard, making him fall onto his butt. I quickly ran around him and got to the fridge when I was grabbed. Well, obviously my plan wasn’t a smart one and this is why Doyoung checked on me regularly. I really needed someone to look after me. I yelped as Wonwoo’s arms went around my waist and roughly yanked me back, pinning me against the table with his body. He didn’t look very pleased and my heart started beating quickly, thinking of a way to free myself from his grip. I could either kneel him or just try and headbutt him, but it seemed like Wonwoo guessed what I was thinking as his lean and muscular body molded into mine. My wrists were pinned to the table and I shivered, his cologne hitting my nose hard. He smelled like musk and gunpowder again and he was so close I could count his lashes if I wanted to. I craned my head back and tried to move around, but it only made me feel more parts of body and that was too much just yet.

Look at this compromising position, Y/N. All you have to do is lean in and open your knees, isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along? We are guessing Wonwoo wants the same thing…not that we are complaining.

I tried to remain unexpressive as the voices suddenly returned and were very loud, of course they’d come back in a situation like this one.

“Well, this is very uncomfortable.” I said quietly, maintaining the eye contact with Wonwoo. My heart was beating fast and I could feel the heat in my cheeks. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. Why do I still like him? After yesterday…how can I still like him?

“Well, you didn’t give me a choice.” Wonwoo muttered, his low voice vibrating against his chest and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” I scoffed and then glared at him, “why would I want to talk to a criminal? Let alone give him a chance to explain himself?”

“Did you let your brother explain himself?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows rose and I glanced away, trying to free my wrists again.

“Kind of…” Wonwoo just hummed and lessened his hold on my wrist so that it didn’t hurt anymore. The bicep he squeezed so hard was now a beautiful shade of green and purple.

“Then it’s my turn—”

“Whatever Wonwoo, I really don’t care. You’re part of the mafia and you robbed the jewelry shops Mark asked me to watch yesterday. And then you had to run away because Mark alerted the police thanks to me and then very sadly you got in the same cab with me. And look at my bicep, you did that.” I snapped, looking down at the bruise as Wonwoo’s gaze followed. His eyebrows furrowed and he sighed, looking back up at me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He muttered with remorse as he looked at it again. His words and reaction were genuine but I just rolled my eyes.

“A little late for that, now—” I shoved myself into him, but it did nothing, “Let go of me.”

Wonwoo’s lips pulled in a straight line and he shook his head, seemingly thinking about what to do next. But I started struggling and trying to move him back so that I would be able to knee him. But he probably knew that was what I was trying to do and squeezed my legs together between his.

“God, the second I get out of your hold I will beat you up so badly, Wonwoo, no one will be able to recognize you—” Wonwoo’s deep laughter echoed in the house as I looked at him menacingly. I wasn’t joking, I really wanted to beat him up and I would, but I needed to free myself first.

“I love how you underestimate me; the shock will be bigger once I’m done—” But Wonwoo’s laughter was so contagious that I had to fight back my own. His nose was scrunched up and I just noticed how he wasn’t wearing glasses. His hair was styled back and he seemed to be wearing some fancy clothes, his pants were silky. He was very attractive, but I tried to ignore my sudden thirst for him. So, I looked away and he slowly stopped laughing, my eyes fell on the front door as I tried coming up with another escape route. But on the ground were five white lilies and I felt my mind go blank as I stared at them. There’s no possible way anyone brought those in, Doyoung and I never buy white lilies, and Wonwoo is the only one that just barged in. Wonwoo.

“Oh my God,” I muttered in despair, looking at Wonwoo all frantic, “Did you—bring those flowers? Wonwoo?!”

Wonwoo looked at the flowers and cleared his throat, looking back at me, “Yeah.”

“Oh my God.” I muttered again and felt like a deer caught in headlights. It was Wonwoo all along? What is happening? I don’t understand anything anymore!

Well…at least you found out who your secret admirer is. And it’s Wonwoo, you should be happy it’s him and not some old creep—

“Shut up!” I exclaimed, squeezing my eyes shut, “This can’t be happening. No fucking way.”

Wonwoo looked confused when I opened my eyes and looked at him, “You were breaking in our house for two weeks?!”

“You’re the one to make a scene, huh?” Wonwoo suddenly raised his voice and his eyes narrowed as he started glaring at me, “You’ve been stalking me for two weeks.”

I gaped at him and blinked, taken off guard, “I—I wasn’t—what?”

“Yeah, you really thought I wouldn’t know?” He chuckled unamused, “I’m surprised it took you this long to realize it was me bringing the flowers.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I looked at him confused, “How was I supposed to know?! I thought you had no idea I was watching you—”

“Stalking me.”

“Stalking you, whatever,” I rolled my eyes, trying to make sense of the situation, “It doesn’t give you the right to break in my room and—were you marking your territory or some shit mafias do? Were you showing other mafias that you were to be the one to kill me—”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed and I tried to push him away again, my back was becoming numb, “You fantasize too much. Mafias don’t do that, but—”

“But what?!” I snapped, eyes widening.

“I did think of killing you in the first three days of you stalking me.” Wonwoo finished with a smirk. My heart skipped another beat as I started breathing faster, his musky scent made me feel dizzy.

“What?!” I exclaimed and started struggling against Wonwoo again, trying to free myself, “For God’s sake, I can’t feel my back anymore, Wonwoo!”

He gave me a look that said if I tried running away again he’d tie me to a chair and leave me there until Doyoung returned, he probably would’ve gagged me too, so I just sighed and let go of all muscles, softening my body. Wonwoo’s eyes gazed into mine intently and his hold slowly loosened as he seemed to lean in subconsciously. My eyes fell onto his lips and realized how plump his upper lip was, but we both snapped out if at the same time as he stepped back and I jumped away from the table, breathing hard. I massaged my lower back as best as I could as I licked my lips and looked at Wonwoo with a glare.

“I don’t like what I’m about to say—” And I took a deep breath and watched as Wonwoo started smirking again, “But what if…we both just forget about all the shit we did and…go on and live our lives like we never met. And, I don’t know, get some therapy as we both apparently need it badly.”

My words made Wonwoo laugh again and I actually smiled this time too, feeling tired after all the new information dumped on me.

“I can’t do that,” Wonwoo said once his laughter died down, “I can’t continue living like I never met you.”

I shrugged and ran my hands through my hair, looking away from him, “Well, I can and I will. So, you better do the same or else I’ll tell Doyoung about everything and he’ll be really pissed and won’t care about Mingyu or whoever, yeah?”

Look at our Y/N lying like that, as if all of this didn’t happen because of her.

I felt Wonwoo move closer to me and his fingers ghosted over the bruise on my left bicep, “Can you really pretend I don’t exist? When you started this?”

“I didn’t start shit!” I snapped and turned my body away from his, “I stalked you for two weeks and I won’t do it anymore because I got over you. I always do. It never lasts for long, you’re not special.”

But he is Y/N, you know it. He knows it.

“Really?” Wonwoo muttered with a small smile and I just shrugged, avoiding his gaze, “Because I watched you the whole time we were in the same Coffee Shop. You were following that businessman, working for Mark, I assume. I noticed how you couldn’t stay still and how you whispered things to yourself. How the barista lit up when she saw you and talked to you. If you wouldn’t have stalked me after that day, I would’ve still found you.”

I just gulped and felt all the anger, frustration, fear melt away as I slowly looked at Wonwoo, “But you broke inside my bedroom…to give me flowers…”

My voice was small and he nodded as he stepped closer, placing his palm on my cheek. I almost jumped at how warm his palm was again and tried to ignore the rapid beat of my heart, “And I was wrong to do that…sorry.”

“Sorry for stalking you.” I muttered and a small grin appeared on Wonwoo’s lips as he closed the distance between our bodies again.

“I’m also sorry for the other bad things I did.” Wonwoo added.

“Yeah, fuck you.” I said with a chuckle and his grin widened into a smile.

You’d love that, wouldn’t you, Y/N?

I rolled my eyes at the voices but Wonwoo didn’t react as he leaned down and his red lips pressed against my cheek, making me blush instantly. Why did I forgive him so easily? Maybe because both of us fucked up big time this time.

“I still expect to see you tomorrow at lunch for our date, so tell Mark to stay at home.” My eyes widened as Wonwoo stepped back, letting go of my cheek.

“How do you know—”

“I’m in the mafia, remember? I know everything.” He winked and walked towards the front door.

“And you called me the stalker.” He chuckled as he opened the door and stepped outside.

“Don’t tell Doyoung just yet, he’s very mad for what I did yesterday—”

“Yeah, me too.” I cut him off and Wonwoo gave me an apologetic smile.

“Sleep well.”

“Don’t break in my room anymore!” I called out as he walked down towards the gate, turning around to wave at me. I rolled my eyes and closed the front door, locking it. Jesus, this really is not how I expected things to turn out. I don’t think I need to watch any TV to feel sleepy. This is my cue to rest and worry about what to wear tomorrow for lunch.

You can wear whatever, Wonwoo is head over heels for you, Y/N. And as we’re seeing, you’re too for him.

204 notes · View notes

sirensmojo · 3 years

Text

"Oh! To remember!" - Hubby!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big fluff.

gifs from @thomasfckinshelby {here is the post}

Summary: You make Tommy a surprise by taking him to the countryside. It brings back memories of the two teenagers you used to be before the war happened.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I just want him to be happy, seriously + POLLY BEING A GRANDMOTHER???? Our Queen.

PS: I know I talked to you about a carpets story, it IS coming don't worry!

*Masterlist*

It was early in the morning when the rays of the sun fondled your face, making you open your eyes. Tommy was already up, putting on his tie and you almost jumped from bed to take it from his hands.

As you were still a bit dizzy from how early it was and how fast you got up, you stumbled on the carpet, but his rough hands caught your waist as a giggle escaped your lips.

His brows were raised, "So early in the morning, you got some' to do today, eh?" You could hear mockery in his tone and you hit his chest with the palm of one of your hands as the other was pulling on his undone tie.

As he leant forwards towards you, you teased his lips with the tip of your nose and finally gave him your lips after hearing a groan from his throat.

He perfectly knew what was happening today, you drew a black star a week from now in his agenda.

"Y/N!" Tommy called, and his desk lady pleaded with her eyes to not let her deal with him.

it wasn't as if he was a bad guy, no, he just appeared to be as cold as ice and as distant as he could be.

You were about to ignore his call along with the staring secretary but you saw her lips moving without any sound getting out "Please."

Okay, this time you will not let her be any more terrified by your husband.

It was a little game for you, to never fully talk to him, just like he did. Even though he had reasons not to talk so much and you didn't. You used to leave him pieces of evidence here and there so he would understand what you were up to.

No need to say that whenever you would sneak into his office to put a black star on his agenda, it was to his secretary he would later ask questions, and as she was oh so scared, she wouldn't give satisfying answers which made him become even more cold and distant.

You weren't working anywhere but staying Home all day long waiting for him to get back wasn't on the schedule. What you loved to do most was to organise all types of dinners and parties.

Tommy was most of the time tired but he never missed one, as he knew it was important for you.

Only, whenever he thought the party should be over, he would come closer to you and gently press his lips on your forehead, his fingers diving into your mane.

And just like that, you understood it was time to lead the people out of the mansion, so you could take care of your Shelby.

You closed the door in front of you, rolling your eyes to yourself and joined his office. Your head peeked through the door and you cleared your throat, leading Timmy to lift his gaze to you.

He patted the page, "Why is there a black star on Thursday?"

"Come 'ere" you answered, your index indicating to Tommy to come near you.

He got up without hesitation and walked towards you, making you enter his office completely and close the door behind you.

The connexion between you had always been more than mental or physical, it was a mix of both with something else, something you could never fully get, but you just knew of its presence.

Maybe it was your beings that were combining together, you were him and he was you.

Or was he more you than yourself?

Your back was flat on the door when you felt his hands on your hips. A smile instantly grew on your lips as his blue icy iris were staring into your soul that was hidden behind your iris.

A grumpy "Hm" escaped his lips as your foreheads touched. He closed his eyes for a second, the smell of your perfume filling his nostrils. He was elsewhere, in a dimension where only you and he existed. Somewhere he was safe and relieved of any pressure.

"A surprise, Tommy." You muttered only inches away from his lips.

His eyes opened softly and he raised a hand to your face, cupping one of your cheeks. You were staring at him as his thumb moved to rub your lips softly.

Nothing needed to be said in those moments, what your eyes were saying was more than enough. You understood him, and he understood you, it has been like that for so long, but the love bonding you never extinguished, and you couldn't imagine that someday it would.

"You'll just have to bring yourself, I'll take care of the rest. Only you and me." You pointed towards him, then towards you before flattening your hand on his shoulders in a tender way.

"Don't come back too late, huh?" You raised a brow as you tied his tie around his neck.

"If the answer doesn’t please you I’ll accidentally get choked. That’s the plan," He put his hand on yours to avoid you from even thinking of doing it.

You glared at him.

"I know your tricks now." He finished and you wanted to show him your tongue so badly, but you tried to stay solemn, your head high.

"I will not even comment on such calumny, Mr Shelby.”

You were so grateful he was still speaking to you fluently. He wasn’t like that with anyone but your children and you, which you found to be a blessing.

You knew he wasn’t living a life where he could be with his family as often as he would like and that his past deeply scarred him, but he almost was the same with you, still trying to joke and laugh even if his tone wasn’t following the movement, he tried. And that was all that mattered.

You had the love of your life and four beautiful children by your side, nothing would ever take that away from you. And even if you weren’t in business, by not trying to interfere, you were easing him more than you even knew.

(...)

“Beth! bring down your brothers and sisters, grandma Polly is here” You screamed toward the stairs as a maid brought the tea to the living room.

Polly looked at you with the type of stare only she, could give, ”you’re up to something, I can tell.”

You crossed your legs with a pleased smile, “Taking my Tommy to the countryside!” You said trying to remain calm, but she knew you too well.

“Well, I wonder why you’re not all over the place already, it’s not like you’re the good calm girl.” She smiled at you, “I’m sure he will be happy. But don’t think he’ll show ya.” She patted your knee with a side-eye look, her trembling voice filled with sarcasm.

You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, “I know how Aberama loves having our children.” You teased and she giggled. “It’s me taking care of all of them.”

“I knew it! He, too, is a child!” You exclaimed, raising your hands in the air.

“What boy of this family isn’t?” Polly raised her eyebrows before your youngest boy ran into her, followed by the entire team. They were squeezing their grandma in their arms as if she would be gone in a blink of an eye.

You laughed so hard seeing how they were all around Polly that couldn’t even hug them all.

Your heart was full of love at this moment.

Your eldest daughter came sitting on the armchair of the sofa where you were sitting, dropping her head on your shoulder.

“It is said Aberama and grandma will bring us with them on the road, is it true?” Your fourteen years old girl knew how to make a deal, she exchanged a look with Polly and straightened her head, looking right at you.

“Are you sure it’s Polly’s idea, it sounds more like you’re taking her as a hostage, Beth?”

“It’s called bargain! You always talk about grandma Pol being a gypsy queen, I want to see her world!” Beth’s high pitched tone resonated in the room, even the cat woke up from its nap to see what was happening.

“No need to put yourself in such condition, of course, you can all go with them. It’s your family.” You took your little girl in your arms, holding her close as fondling her long hair.

(...)

It was already 5 and you began to pace up and down before the carriage. It was your horse exhaling noisily that made you look up to him and caress his forehead while murmuring things to him. Basically telling him your day.

You didn’t realize but Tom had arrived, and a smile automatically drew on his lips when he saw you talking to your horse. It was as if he rewind the time and you were back to 1911 in your father’s stable with your long muddy dress and hay all over your mane.

He got close quickly and you startled when feeling his rough black gloves grabbing your elbow. “Shit, Tommy.”

He cleared his throat while looking at the horizon. A smile grew at the corner of your lips seeing how handsome he was, his hat on his head with his large black coat, a cigarette in between his lips. This handsome husband, father and gangster was all yours.

“Come up there! We’re going,” you pointed at the sitting place.

(...)

It has been half an hour since you departed from the Arrow House and the silence between you two was peaceful. You knew Tommy will never admit it, but he somehow took a liking to your parties and dinners, because he wasn’t forced to do anything, to be anything.

He could just be the man smoking cigarettes at the back of the room or the one drinking silently while sitting from the beginning of the event to its end. He could be alone, while not quite being alone.

You noticed he needed to be alone to think about his business, and as soon as he started to go walk alone in the woods at night, you started to organise garden parties.

Thomas didn’t need to be fully alone, he just needed people not to disturb him. And with such huge parties that was what you offered him. He didn’t need to sleep all night long outside now.

He could just sit at a table in the garden and smoke while sipping on his whiskey.

You finally stop the horse in a huge field, right under an imposing tree. It was probably a hundred years old, his trunk as solid as a rock, or maybe even stronger...

Tommy got up in the carriage, looking both sides to see if he knew the place before he got down, feet on earth.

You turned to him, a smile on your face, “Do you remember?” Your voice was low. He looked down at you, a curious gleam animating his blue iris.

“There!” you told him, pointing at the tree.

You saw in his expression he indeed remembered this place, and it was enough to warm your heart. You got up and joined the back of the carriage, taking the plates you had cooked for the occasion.

When you got back, his eyes directly went into yours, as if he had been searching for you. “Yes?” You raised a brow.

“It’s your family’s field.” His deep voice made you shiver, or maybe it was the cold spring breeze?

The old farm was still present not too far from where you were, but there were no animals left.

Your eyes lifted to him in an instant, his face was serene, his mind elsewhere, surely in the tone of memories of another time. Where all you used to worry about was the size of your stables once you’ll be married to Tom.

You served him a dish of his favourite food before handing it to him which he gladly took after sitting comfortably at the feet of the huge tree, his back against the tree.

“Don’t forget the bread.” You let out pointing to the bag next to him.

You finally sit down next to him and lift your gaze to the branch of the tree. The wind was present, but not in an annoying way, in a reassuring way. It was as if he was the one singing memories of before the War to both of you.

You raised your hand to the sky and it quickly got reached by Tommy’s that rubbed his thumb onto your skin.

You authorized yourself to dive into his eyes only to find your Tommy. The same one that was seated under the same three years and years ago. The Tommy that always used to make jokes, the one that asked your father for your hand, the one that always helped your mother with her horses.

It was something you would never get tired of, horses. It was the one thing always keeping you close to the man he once was, not that you missed that man, but you cherished the fact you had such memories of him. He was so different now…

“Happy Birthday, Tommy.” You muttered outright while dropping the back of your head against his chest, looking at his face from under.

He inhales deeply before exhaling loudly. And it was you, that sealed your lips together, bearing your love to him.

#Hubby!Tommy shelby #husband tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders

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pillage-and-lute · 3 years

Text

An Ever Fixed Mark (part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (here) Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,

Read it on Ao3 HERE

A little bit of BAMF! Jaskier, a lot of emotionally constipated/self flagellating Geralt, some miscommunication, and a secret.

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Geralt awoke slowly. The anxiety and excitement of the wedding had taken its toll, and the comfortable bed had enveloped him nicely. There was also the warm, comfortable weight in his arms.

Jaskier.

It was Jaskier in his arms. The young man was curled up, still fast asleep, with his head tucked against Geralt’s chest. Geralt wondered who had gravitated to whom in the night. Had he vvmoved unconsciously hold Jaskier? Perhaps. Jaskier must have cuddled up to him too, though. There was no other way to explain the way Jaskier’s hand was curled, lightly, around Geralt’s medallion. Holding on to Geralt. On his other hand, the wedding ring glittered.

Used to assessing battle situations, this train of thought happened in thirty seconds or less. His processing was significantly sleep slowed, however, because he finally became aware of what had woken him.

There was a pounding on the door. The urgent pounding of someone who desperately wanted to speak with the occupants but didn’t want to make others aware.

Without other options Geralt gently extricated himself from Jaskier, accidentally waking the young man in the process, pulled on the pants from the day before, and crossed to the door.

It was Eskel.

“What?”

“It’s almost ten in the morning,” Eskel said. “Vesemir wants us to leave really soon. Um, check if Jaskier has people he wants to say goodbye to.”

“Our things,” Geralt began.

Eskel waved a dismissive hand. “Vesemir had them packed up last night, but he really wants us to leave and he won’t tell us why.”

Geralt shrugged, reassured his brother, and closed the door.

Jaskier was sitting up in bed, his undershirt, a large, flowy thing, had slipped off one shoulder. Geralt’s stomach lurched, rolled, and finally curled up. Somehow it wasn’t in an unpleasant way, though. The skin was pale gold in the torchlight. It brought thoughts of sinking his teeth into all that glowing skin, gripping as he folded his body over Jaskier’s and...

Geralt dunked his head in the washbasin.

“Is that an okay temperature,” Jaskier said, slipping on his wedding attire from the day before. “I think it was warmed up for us last night but it’s probably pretty cold by now.”

It was doing exactly what Geralt needed it to, so he just grunted.

“I don’t have anyone I need to say goodbye to,” Jaskier said as Geralt wiped water from his eyes. “We can leave whenever.”Geralt nodded and pulled on his wedding doublet. Jaskier, all in white and pearls still looked like some sort of angel. He took Jaskier’s hand, and they left.

It was Jaskier’s guidance, of course, that brought them back to the rooms that had been for the witchers, and Vesemir was outside the door already.

“Was worried you two would linger,” he griped, but it was good-natured.

“Yeah honeymooners, how’s married life feel?,” Lambert smirked. He had packs over his shoulder, so did Eskel, and Vesemir. Eskel offered Geralt his pack and swords. Geralt shouldered them and took a much nicer pack from Lambert, obviously Jaskier’s. Vesemir picked up a lute from where it had been leant against the wall and Jaskier took it gratefully, a hint of a smile touching his round cheeks.

Then the odd little party left.

After all the anxiety and waiting and intrigue and the wedding itself, just walking down to the stables as an little group felt strange. No one stopped them, though.

The witcher’s horses had been cared for, but were otherwise untouched. There was a fifth, a black and white stallion, big but not a battlehorse by any means. Jaskier reached forward and kissed it’s muzzle. The horse responded by huffing in the way horses do and tossing his mane.

They mounted up and were off before the bell in the town center tolled eleven. It just didn’t feel real.

“We’ll ride with you to Egerbak,” Vesemir said, naming a town a day’s ride from Chateau Lettenhove. “From there we’ll go our separate ways, not good for witchers to be all in one group.”

“Why?” Jaskier said, looking puzzled. “Wouldn’t it make fighting monsters easier?”

“Sometimes,” Eskel said, “But if the terrain is rough you can get in one another’s way.”

“Get paid less too, the locals think it’s easy and give up less coin,” Lambert said, a little sourly.

“Most jobs need just one witcher,” Geralt said, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “And villagers get edgy if there’s more than that, they fear an attack.” He didn’t mention why. Surely Jaskier knew the reason he was called Butcher. “But there isn’t many of us left, either. We four are all of the wolf school. If there were people who wished us harm, having us all in one place could exterminate our school.”

“That’s horrible,” Jaskier said, blue eyes wide. The color was muted today, Geralt noticed. The sky was overcast and his eyes seemed to reflect the blue-grey light that filtered down.

“Do you think we’re in danger now?” the young man said.

“Depends, do you think your father would send people after you? To kill you I mean.” Vesemir didn’t even raise the question gently.

Jaskier sat, moving steadily astrid his horse, looking straight ahead. After a long moment with just the sound of five sets of hooves he said quietly, “I think maybe we should move a little faster.” He nudged his horse into a canter and fingered his lute strap nervously.

Without further instruction, the witchers formed up. Eskel, keen with magic and with the same good senses of any witcher, rode in front. Lambert, with his predilection for blowing things up from a distance, rode behind. Geralt and Vesemir rode along in the middle, Jaskier between them. He was probably the safest man for a hundred miles.

“You really think he might try something?” Geralt asked quietly. He knew speaking softly wasn’t the same as being tactful, but it was about the best he had.

Jaskier nodded. “It makes sense. If his goal is to start war with the witchers. To say you mistreated me and voided the contract, that’s one thing. But it makes a better story to feed to people if his beloved son is killed the day after the wedding.”

“I just don’t get it,” Geralt said, frustratedly. “Why does he want a war with witchers? I understand he doesn’t want you to be his successor, but he could just disown you, couldn’t he?”

“I was thinking about that,” said Jaskier. “It would look bad if he did, but he could. I think he wants a war with witchers because he wants a war with other countries. Any place that didn’t immediately turn against witchers-- all witchers, not just your school--well, he could declare them an enemy of Lettenhove, which is a big province. That makes it an enemy of Kerack and then Kerack goes to war with anywhere that decides they need someone to fight their monster problem.”

“That’s...” Geralt said.

“Despicable?”

“Well, yes, but I mean, it’s a lot to comprehend,” Geralt said. He felt a little at sea. This wasn’t his job, all this, this politics. He was a witcher. Find monster, swing sword, kill monster, get coin. That was what he did. Alliances and assasination and wars and marriage, they weren’t supposed to factor in.

“Yeah.” Jaskier said.

They rode on, safe inside the wolf school’s formation. After perhaps a quarter of an hour Jaskier slung his lute around and began to pick at it idly. It had a case, but he’d tied that onto his big stallion instead. Apparently he liked having it available.

“Why does he want a war?” Geralt asked after a little longer. “What does your father get out of it?”

Jaskier stopped plucking. “It’s part of the earl thing, in his case the position has a lot to do with finances and the kingdom’s treasury. Wars mean finances are more important, which makes him more important, and he get’s more power.”

“All of this is just a power grab?” Geralt said. “That’s daft.”

“That’s politics,” Jaskier said, a tad tiredly. “He probably thinks he could be made a duke. And yes, daft is a good word for it all.”

After that they just rode, stopping only briefly for lunch and to rest the horses. Jaskier played his lute quietly, most of the journey. At one point he pulled a notebook and charcoal stick from his bag to jot things down and muttered as he played.

Geralt had no idea if the lad’s music was impressive, but he was impressed with how he sat a horse, multitasking as if he was part centaur. He did most emphatically not think about how nice Jaskier’s thighs looked in the clothes he’d changed into at their lunch stop.

The wedding attire was very fine, but Jaskier looked somehow...right in the clothes he wore now. Blue trousers of fine but durable material and a white chemise under a blue doublet. He’d asked if he should wear the basilisk leather, but Geralt had shook his head. It was a fine spring day and basilisk leather kept heat like a fur coat, he didn’t want to cook his husband before they’d been married a whole day.

And wasn’t that a thought that clanked about in Geralt’s head. Husband. Husband husband husband husband husband. They were married and Geralt had a husband. Who was nobility. And Geralt was his husband.

And Geralt kind of wanted to kiss his husband.

That was his problem, however, not Jaskier’s. Whatever the damn ‘implied hidden fidelity clause’ said, Jaskier was free to sleep with whomever he chose. Why would any young man, in the position to choose, pick a scarred witcher, the Butcher of Blaviken? Who could choose Geralt?

Geralt suddenly felt very bitter, for himself and on Jaskier’s behalf. Neither of them had asked for this, and the witchers weren’t even going to get anything from it. Now he had a husband, a semi-disgraced noble, who apparently had musical talents. Bardic? Geralt didn’t know but it seemed...right.

Regardless, he needed a place to drop Jaskier off. Somewhere safe. It couldn’t be claimed he mistreated the man if they weren’t together. That way, Jaskier couldn’t...

Couldn’t what?

Geralt had never before actually contemplated all the ways a normal human could be hurt on the Path. Witchers, sure, he knew about that but humans were delicate. Geralt had been told once that you shouldn’t just eat rabbit because it...it did something and you would get sick. Or maybe starve? Because the meat was wrong somehow. Too lean? Not lean enough?

It didn’t matter because he wasn’t a human. He remembered a dreadful three weeks when coin had been lean eating just rabbit and he’d been fine. Jaskier might not be. Geralt hardly earned enough coin for himself how was he supposed to feed and protect them both.

Not to mention things like sleeping rough and rainstorms and all the little pitfalls of traveling.

It had seemed fine in theory before. Jaskier would have his basilisk leather and would stay at camp but now reality was setting in.

Tired from the road, the whole group spoke little as they set up camp. Geralt pitched the tent that he would share with Jaskier then set up the fire while his brothers put up their own tents and Vesemirs. Vesemir went hunting.

Geralt was almost eighty five years old, and had been hunting for most of those years, but not one of the younger wolves could match Vesemir’s skill.

Dinner was stew, with meat courtesy of Vesemir. Dessert was no talking at all. This wasn’t unusual at all for the wolves, but Jaskier was looking around nervously.

“You’re safe,” Geralt said. “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Jaskier said. It seemed odd, because he’d been so vibrant and chatty back at Chateau Lettenhove.

“Pass me your dish,” Geralt said. Wordlessly, Jaskier handed him the shallow bowl. Geralt scraped it onto the grass.

“I’m sorry about the whole...assassin thing and, and everything,” Jaskier said after another silent minute.

“Hmm,” Geralt said.

The overast sky finally gave way to the rain that had been threatening all day and with a sigh the witchers each turned in for the night. Jaskier crawled into the tent after Geralt and settled down onto one of the bedrolls.

Geralt went about his nightly routine as if nothing was different, untying his hair and stripping himself his clothes. He felt oddly flattered when Jaskier let out a tiny gasp as he divested himself of his smallclothes. A glance showed him the young man, wide eyed in the dim light, kneeling on his bedroll.

The tent smelled of lust.

Geralt pulled on the well-worn loose trousers he preferred and nudged Jaskier’s pack at him. The boy took the hint and rummaged in it, pulling out similarly loose sleep pants and changing quickly. Geralt looked away for decency’s sake. They may be married but that was no reason to take liberties. Unfortunately, Jaskier was wearing another loose chemise to bed, and Geralt’s thoughts dragged back to the tantalizing view of shoulder from that morning.

“Wrap up tight,” he grunted, annoyed at himself for even thinking of that. “If the temperature drops in the night I don’t want to have to deal with you getting sick.”

The lust smell, which had waned somewhat, was entirely gone, replaced with a scent Geralt had smelled on Jaskier before.

“Okay,” Jaskier said quietly, and tucked himself obediently into his bedroll.

Jaskier smelled sad. Like he had the night before.

Geralt rolled into his own bedroll and cursed himself. Of course the boy was sad. Dragged onto the Path with a husband more monster than man. Boyish hormones made him horny, not any desire for something like Geralt. And he was a boy. Nineteen was legally an adult but it was like...what was the phrase Vesemir had used? De jure is not de facto. Legallity is not truth.

Geralt listened to Jaskier’s breathing and thought about their ages. Eighty years for a witcher was still considered a mere stripling youth when considered in the course of a witcher lifespan. For Jaskier, though, he would live to be eighty only if he was lucky. On a witcher’s Path he almost certainly wouldn’t be.

Jaskier’s breathing hadn’t slowed into the deep, even pattern of sleep. Geralt wondered what was keeping him awake. Then again, if he was sleeping beside a monster, he’s lie awake too.

It seemed as though neither of them would ever sleep, both of them laying, inches between them, on their separate bedrolls. Then, between one blink and the next, Geralt must have slipped into sleep.

He awoke to a damp world. It had rained through the night and the rain was still drizzling against the tent when he opened his eyes. The humidity and the little moisture that seeped through the cloth of the tent had built up and everything felt sticky and muggy.

Although every item of clothing in his pack had been put in dry, almost nothing felt entirely dry as he struggled into proper clothes. Jaskier woke too, blinking his eyes open muzzily and wrinkling his nose at the damp feeling. He also dressed in silence, frowning as he pulled on his clothes.

There was no dry firewood for a fire and Eskel, gifted though he was with magic, couldn’t make a fire last on soaked wood. The group ate cold rations. Jaskier tried to start up a conversation with Eskel about literature.

Geralt smiled inwardly, but let none of it show on his face, lest Jaskier think he was mocking him. Eskel, despite the best efforts of everything the wolf school could do, was so far from being a morning person as to be out the other side. He could stay up all night, but wasn’t conversational until nearly noon.

Jaskier looked disheartened, though. Geralt wasn’t a substitute for literary conversation, so he just packed up Jaskier’s horse for him. For some reason, Jaskier frowned at that, but then nodded at Geralt and they all mounted up.

It was an hour’s ride to Egerbak, where the witchers would part. From there, Geralt thought, mapping the journey in his head, he and Jaskier could turn for Oxenfurt. The journey would be almost a month, and Geralt would have to hunt along the way to earn coin, but Jaskier would be safe there.

While Geralt was musing, Jaskier was trying to strike up a conversation with Vesemir. The old wolf was more of a morning person than Eskel, but not a conversationalist, so Jaskier eventually shrugged a little sadly and pulled out his lute.

He plucked a tune, editing it again and again until he seemed satisfied. It was catchy, an earworm Geralt was sure would never leave his head. Then Jaskier began to hum.

Geralt himself was very nearly tone deaf, and frankly didn’t like music in most cases, but Jaskier’s voice sounded okay. It was only humming, anyway.

Geralt’s ears pricked and he saw the shoulders of Eskel, riding point, tense up too. He knew all the witchers had heard the noise. Hoofbeats were approaching fast. Geralt craned in his saddle to see the rider, but could make out little between the rain, which had graduated from drizzle to downpour.

Vesemir coughed, flexing his hand on the reigns, opening his fist then closing it again. The witchers drew together, closing their formation. To the rider it would likely look as if they merely were drawing towards one another to give him room. It worked to do that, for sure, but it was also a defensive maneuver, trained into them and beaten into their memory. Witchers rarely fought alongside eachother, but when they had to they were prepared. Closing ranks also had the benefit of enclosing Jaskier, like a hand wrapping around a precious stone.

Geralt’s steel sword had been tied at his hip, and his silver along with the saddlebags. It made him look less threatening, more like a knight errant than someone ready to battle at any time. In truth, the change from being slung at his shoulders was practical. In combat he could draw the sword from his hip and be prepared, rather than having to reach up to draw his weapons. It left him less exposed on horseback. He reached down to his hip and, in a smooth and almost impercepitble motion, flicked the tie open on the sheath of his sword, loosening its hold to make the sword easier to draw. He turned the movement into a casual stroke of Roach’s flank.

The rider pulled up alongside. “Sir witcher,” he panted, “I must speak with Master Julian.”

Geralt glanced at Jaskier but the boy looked...different. He was sitting his horse more stiffly and looked more haughty and aristocratic than Geralt had ever seen him. Nothing of his clothing had changed, and he was in poor garb compared to the silken doublets he had worn before, but in a second his posture had turned him into the spitting image of his father.

“Speak, man,” Jaskier said, waving one hand dismissively.

“You left without your dowry.”

“Dowry,” Jaskier said coldly.

Geralt felt cold for a different reason. He’d seen a ring on the hand of the rider, the left hand’s index finger. It was large, with a heavy stone. He was a slim young man in the dress of a footman, but something in his build said otherwise. This was an assasin, Geralt would bet his medallion, and the ring held poison, or something equally nasty.

“I have no need of a dowry,” Jaskier was saying, passing straight through haughty and going for enigmatic without bother to slow down.

“Your father insisted,” said the assassin, sidling his horse closer. Geralt nudged Roach and she deftly stepped in the way.

“My father can take back his coin,” Jaskier said, even as the man offered a bag, slightly open to show gold coins. “I am no maiden, and my marriage shall produce no heirs.”

“But--”

“Don’t speak over your betters,” Jaskier said, every words ringing like steel. “A dowry is to set up a household. Well my household, such as it is,” here Jaskier gestured about him. “Is set up. Traditionally, if the wife dies without producing a male heir to the marriage the dowry is returned. I shall produce no heirs, so I’m returning the dowry preemptively.”

The assasin looked truly stumped. “I must give this to you,” he said, reaching forward, across Roach’s rump to hand the bag to Jaskier. Geralt saw the man’s thumb hover over the poison ring, as if about to flick open the compartment.

“No,” Jaskier said.

“At least dismount so that we can discuss this,” pleaded the rider.

Geralt looked about them. They’d been riding through woodland all day, but it was dense here, just the place one might lie in wait. Then he saw it, the thing he’d been waiting for since they’d left Lettenhove. A glint of light off of metal in the underbrush. Vesemir caught his eye, he’d seen it too.

“Melitele help us!” Jaskier cried. “There’s bandits in the woods!”

Geralt saw anger and annoyance flash onto the face of the assassin. “No bandits in these woods my lord, I’m sure,” he said smoothly.”

Geralt knew the plan in that instant. Jaskier would be found dead on the roadside, the rider would stagger back into Lettenhove, or perhaps onward into Egerbak and tell how the witchers had cruelly murdered Jaskier and made off with the dowry, leaving him for dead. These hiddent troops were presumably to subdue the witchers while Jaskier was murdered.

Finally, Geralt drew his sword.

Damn. If they killed the Earl’s men that would also look bad.

Jaskier, switching from enigmatic to foppishly distressed. “You simply must turn back,” he was saying to the assassin. “It’s quite alright, I have all these big, strong witchers to protect me, and before I left lettenhove I sent a xenovox message to a mage in Temeria, a friend of mine. I have a powerful protection on me.”

“You do,” the assassin said, edging his horse back a step. Protection spells tended to get messy in a guts and gore way for those who crossed them.

“Oh yes, and my darling husband, isn’t that right, dear heart?” Jaskier said, giving Geralt doe eyes. Geralt blinked.

“Uh, yes, Triss Merigold,” Geralt said, thanking his lucky stars, which most of the time had utterly failed to be lucky for him, that he actually knew a mage in Temeria.

“Merigold,” the would-be assassin said. “The name rings a bell, I’ll just,” and he rode off, back towards Lettenhove.

Jaskier spurred his horse. “Let’s get out of this rabbit snare,” he muttered. The witchers rode double-time to clearer ground.

“Well,” Vesemir said, once they were well and truly clear. “Quick thinking, lad, and some of the most pretentious acting I’ve ever seen.”

Jaskier bowed in his saddle, smiling like a moonbeam. “Thank you, although I’m just glad Geralt had a real name to back me up.”

“Should do,” Lambert snorted as they rode past the first few buildings of Egenbak. “She practically sewed his guts back into his body after a Striga--”

“Shut up,” Geralt growled, but it was too late. Even in the rain, Jaskier’s eyes were sparkling.

Greed, Geralt reflected, and indeed, lust, came in many varieties. Jaskier’s father may covet money and power, but the mere mention of a story had Jaskier coveting it just as viciously. What could be so boring, so lacking in a wealthy young man’s life, Geralt wondered, that he was so starved for adventure?

They bid their goodbyes to the other witchers, Jaskier surprising them each with a hug. Vesemir huffed, but Geralt caught the slight upward twitch of his moustache.

“Fair roads,” Jaskier said, waving to them all. Geralt waved too, and then his brother’s and Vesemir rode away.

So did Jaskier and Geralt, but it hadn’t been three minutes when Jaskier asked, “Striga?”

“Mmmhm.”

“What is a striga?” Jaskier pressed.

“Monster.”

Jaskier huffed. “What sort,” he said, with a bit of a whine. “How is one born...made? What does it look like? What does it do? Why have I never heard of one before?”

“Made by magic. Looks ugly. Does messy awful killings. They’re rare.”

“Please, Geralt, tell me the story?”

Geralt didn’t look over at him. Wasn’t going to. If he caught a glimpse of that face and those eyes pleading he’d give in.

“The rode is going to be awfully boring, Geralt, a story would really help,” Jaskier said, still begging.

“Just focus on riding,”Geralt growled. “I don’t want to have to deal with you if you fall off your horse.” Then he urged Roach on ahead.

It was indeed a very long and boring ride. After a while Jaskier pulled out his lute and began to play.

“Toss a coin,” he sang quietly, then he changed the cord and tried it again, a little higher. “Toss a coin to your witcher.”

“Don’t make up songs about me,” Geralt growled.

“Short of you telling me stories I have to make things up,” Jaskier said. “I know nothing about you.”

“So you write me a song?”

“I think you deserve one,” Jaskier said, as if his very believing it made it fact.

Geralt urged his horse on ahead.

“Come on,” Jaskier said, nudging his horse faster too. “My singing can’t be that bad, can it?” he asket.d lightly.

“Yes,” Geralt growled. “It can.”

They rode the rest of the day without speaking. Jaskier plucked sullenly at his lute.

Geralt was angry, and worse, he didn’t really have any right to be angry. He knew he’d messed up. Day two of marriage and he’d fucked up spectacularly. He was bad at this, and he was angry at himself. Somehow, though, he felt angry at Jaskier too. What was Geralt supposed to do? Answer every childish question? Tell stories? Discuss literature like Eskel could? Like probably all of Jaskier’s high class friends at Oxenfurt and Lettenhove could?

He was a witcher. Witcher meant solitary. It meant silence. It did not mean infernal music and being pestered about a story like a nanny.

He was being an asshole and he knew it, but damnit, he’d been an asshole so long he wasn’t about to stop all at once. It was practically baked in at this point. Being angry was better than trying to be kind an failing. Silence was easier than speaking.

Jaskier drooped in his saddle though, and Geralt felt like a cad.

They stopped for lunch at the side of the road, eating soggy rations and not talking to one another. They were both soaked to the skin, despite heavy cloaks, which were too hot in this late spring storm. Jaskier dripped miserably and carefully wiped down his lute, putting it reverentially in its case.. Up until that point the instrument had been mostly safe from rain, cradled against his body under the cloak. He’d clearly come to the same conclusion that Geralt had, however, that if the instrument stayed out any longer, cloak cover or no, it would get truly wet.

“Raining cats and dogs,” Jaskier said, tentatively. It had the same feeling as a man dipping his toe into water to see how cold it was.

“Hmmm.” Geralt said, neutrally.

Apparently seeing this not outright aggression as an invitation, Jaskier, metaphorically, jumped into the pond.

“See, I think that saying is really rather silly,” he said. “Not only because it, obviously, doesn’t rain animals, but really, cats don’t even like water.”

He continued chattering as they remounted and rode on.

“Dogs do like water of course, well, some, but so few like rainstorms, especially thunder. I wonder why we have that saying then.”

His mind seemed to skip back and forth between subjects like a grasshopper.

“I understand why dogs don’t like thunder, of course, and I don’t care for lightning much myself, but the thunder must be so loud with their sensitive hearing.”

He paused for a split second and Geralt wondered if blissful silence would return but then,

“I imagine thunder must be dreadful with your hearing, right?”

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. Shut up, he thought.

“Oh that’s awful,” Jaskier said. “Do you think it will thunder tonight? I hope not. If it does - or perhaps even if it doesn’t - I think we ought to get a room in an inn tonight. Give our clothes a chance to dry.”

Melitele’s tits. Geralt couldn’t believe one man could talk so much. It was almost like nervous chatter but it grated on his already fraying nerves.

“An inn would be perfect don’t you think? And I could play there. I’m a bard you know. Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘you’re a Viscount, Jaskier,’ and that’s true, although I suppose not anymore, technically from the moment I said ‘I do’ that honor was passed to my half-brother but, I’m a bard as well.”

“Shut up.”

“What?” Jaskier said.

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling as he did so cold water drip from his hood onto his face. “For the love of all that is good just shut up,” he growled.

“Maybe if you said something back occasionally it wouldn’t be so one sided,” Jaskier said sniffily.

“Maybe if you had any brains in that empty head of yours you’d have something worth while to talk about.”

“I have brains,” Jaskier said, affronted.

“Clearly not enough to know when to shut up,” Geralt sniped back. “I don’t want to have to deal with your incessant chatter all the way to Oxenfurt.”

Jaskier stopped his horse and dismounted, in the middle of the road, in the pouring rain.

“Get back on your horse, have you lost your mind?” Geralt said, but he reigned Roach in.

“Oxenfurt?” Jaskier said, quietly. His voice held no emotion and Geralt felt suddenly that he had really fucked up this time. He dismounted.

“Yes,” he said. “You have friends there, I thought it would be a nice place to go.” He wasn’t sure why he didn’t tell Jaskier that he intended to leave him there, but he felt that, at this time, that wouldn’t go over well.

Jaskier’s face softened. “You thought it would be nice,” he said. “For me to go back there.”

Geralt shrugged. “One destination is as good as the other on my Path, often I just wander.”

Jaskier smiled softly and remounted. “Okay then,” he said. “To Oxenfurt.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry, I suppose dismounting was dramatic, I guess I thought you were taking me somewhere to get rid of me.”

It was like having ice shoved into Geralt’s spine as he mounted Roach again. “I wouldn’t get rid of you,” he said lowly.

“Oh, not ‘get rid of’, like that stupid assassin. I meant...discard, abandon, leave, wash one’s hands of, cast aside.”

They rode on, Jaskier chattered, but less. Geralt didn’t say a single word.

They didn’t make it to a town with an inn that night so they made camp in a soaked clearing again. Guilt ate Geralt as he was eating cold rations and chased him into their tent. He lie awake feeling heavy with it as he heard Jaskier’s breathing drop off.

Jaskier wouldn’t like being left at Oxenfurt, but it would be for his own good, Geralt thought. He didn’t have to tell him right now, anyway. That was a discussion that could wait until Oxenfurt.

Geralt’s guilt didn’t lift completely, but it eased enough that he slipped into meditation.

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I’m still pretty sick with mono, so this took me ages to manage, but its here at last! So psyched to write the next part too.

Tag List!

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#geraskier #the witcher #arranged marriage au #miscommunication #angst #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #Vesemir #jaskier #eskel #lambert

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