Fallen Star

Fallen Star

Pairing: Hyunjin!Driver/bodyguard/alien x princess reader

Warning: Much angst, toxic family, controlling home life.

Premise: A mistake always turning to the stars for an escape. But it turns out the star you had always wished for had fallen right in front of you.

word count: 5.1K

Authors notes: *WARNING* LOVE LETTER INCOMING: I need to give credit to the truly amazing @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue for being my never ending inspiration for this fic. Honestly, the ideas behind the story and the feel/details of the banner all of it I sneakily asked her questions and then used her answers against her. But in all realness, thank you so much for giving me support in my writing journey. Legit one of my most favourite people in the whole world, so if you have never read anything from her before I highly recommend it. You are missing out on some absolute genius, especially in the angst department!!

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If he thinks he can just marry you off for his benefit he seriously had another thing coming. An arranged marriage to an old man? Did he assume you’d go quietly? Or does he really just not care? 

You laugh at yourself. Of course he doesnt. This was a new low, even for him. He couldn’t control you like your siblings so instead of having to deal with you he sells you off the highest bidder. You’d show him how much trouble you could be. 

Staring out of the back passenger car window, you watch your breath fog a small part of the cold glass before it recedes. It blocks your view from what you really want to see, so you roll down the window. There’s no clouds in the dark sky tonight, no wind either. But the chilled breeze from the car speeding down the backroads rushes into the car. Making you wish you were driving away from it all and not back to it. You asked the driver to take a long way back, so you could gaze out into a world you only wished to be apart of. 

“I’d give anything to escape from here…” You sigh, your mind wandering to the stars above. To what else could be out there. “...to be with the stars.”

“Anything?” A soothing melodic voice travels from the drivers seat. Unbeknownst to you the partition had been lowered. 

You let out a startled noise, you knew that voice, and the angelic person who had that voice. That person was not supposed to be driving you tonight. His presence alone would be enough to make you antsy, but in this moment couldn’t have been worse. 

“I’m sorry Miss, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He politely directs his worry to you through the rearview mirror. 

You make eye contact with him through the reflection as you roll up the window, “No it’s ok. I was lost in thought.” 

You can’t maintain staring into his alluring eyes, breaking away you let yourself once again stare at the night landscape. 

“I did notice something on your mind when you got in. I know it may not be my place to ask but, is everything ok?” 

“Hyunjin, I’ve told you before you can speak freely with me. We are the same age.” You let out an airy chuckle, shaking your head. Your eyes never leaving it’s chosen star. 

“I know miss, sometimes I forget.” He laughs cheerfully back at you. “Bad news at dinner?”

“Apparently my hand in marriage has been accepted.” You huff. There’s no point in hiding your annoyance. As much as Hyunjin made the butterflies in your stomach act as thought they had been given some form of accelerant, he was the only one around you that you could talk to like this. 

“Marriage?” If you didn’t know any better you’d say there was a bite to his words. “With who?”

“Lord Tun. He’s over twice my age.” You complain bitterly, the dress chosen for you for dinner becoming itchy, a burning sensation lingering. That’s why your parents had bought it for you. To appeal to the mans desires, your hopes of them wanting to buy you something out of the warmth of their heart dashed. You wanted to burn this vile, uncomfortable fabric…not to mention it’s ugly colour against your skin did you no favours. “He originally asked for my older sisters hand in good faith of the new trading merger. But my father said ‘Elise deserves better then he could provide’, so he offered me as substitute. He says it’s my duty.”

 You sink back into your seat, quickly looking over to see his reaction. He doesn’t say anything. His eyes stay trained to the road. Maybe he’s just ask shocked as you are? He knows just as anyone working for your family how you are perceived in this world. The accident that could only ever be useless. 

Growing up you had tried to follow the rules. You had been called an accident since you were young, and you understood exactly what that implied for you. But still you worked hard to achieve as much as your siblings. At first you had even surpassed them in most areas; quickly you realized just how much that didn’t matter to your parents. It never mattered if your grades were bad, you understood the family politics, you became fluent in every language that your family had ties with, the instruments you played…the list went on. Your place in the family never changed. Your parents still looked at you with a heavy detest in their eyes it eventually shut down your want to appease them. 

So you stopped the extra lessons and changed your path. You took up watercolour painting and cooking. Even turning your studies to the stars and universe above you. Your parents never knew because they took no notice. 

Infatuation didn’t even cover your love for the science of other galaxies, obsession might be a better word. Spending hours upon hours leisurely reading everything you could on them. A single wish of being able to see it all yourself. 

But you were here, on earth, the last place you wanted to be.

“Duty….since when have I ever had a duty to uphold?” Looking to the moon for solace, you let your anger simmer. A hesitant silence looms over you both before he speaks again.

“You are a princess, miss.”

You could feel the bile from your stomach threaten to claw up your throat, “just because I’m a princess doesn’t mean I don’t deserve love.”

👑 👑 

“Guards!” Your fathers aggravating voice booms through the castles library hall. The main doors fly open and two large men rush through, you don’t have time to react before they are each grabbing one of your arms. “Escort the princess back to her room.”

“You think locking me up will get me to agree?” Straining against the hard hands on you, you push forward.

“Agreeance or not, you will marry Lord Tun. It’s your choice whether you go peacefully or if I have to drag you the whole way there.” He threatens. His cold eyes trained on your blazing ones. “You should be thankful your life has a purpose, thankful that anyone would be willing to marry you.

“THANKFUL?!” Throat burning, the acidic taste from your stomach makes your voice hoarse. Your legs kick out in fury, shoving at the men surrounding you.  “Should I be thankful that my existence means nothing to you?”

“Finally you can be useful to this family.” He slams the book you were studying before he entered onto the table. He’s watching your reaction, the calculation in his eyes making your blood boil. “No more of these ridiculous ventures. They have made you obstinate and disrespectful. Your empty head is only filled with pathetic knowledge, making you unusable in any other way. You owe it to this family to be obedient in this marriage.”

“You know nothing of me!” You scream, throwing your whole body at him. Never in your life have you ever wanted to use violence until this moment, even more so on your father. Your anger numbs you to the pain in your arms, the bruises forming from the two men holding you back. “I owe you NOTHING.”

“You owe me your LIFE.” He barks art you, slamming his foot on the hardwood. This time you do flinch. “And I will do with it as I see fit.” 

Adjusting his robes he signals at the guards holding you.

“Take her. Her room shall be locked until I call for her presence.”

As they pull you away, your body goes limp. Every word you thought your parents felt about you had now been expressed out loud. You let them drag you into the room, throwing you onto the bed you catch yourself. Eyes and mind glazing over with tears and rage. But not enough to not hear one of them mumble ‘ungreatful’ under their breath. 

The doors slam shut with such force it shakes the paintings on your wall. The loud metal clank of the door locking seals your mouth as you fall onto the bed, angry tears stream down your face as you let yourself give in to exhaustion.

👑 👑 

It had been hours since your door was locked, food had been slid in on a silver tray but you had refused to eat it. The anger in your body making your desire for food vanish for the night. When they had collected the still full tray you had attempted to rush whoever was at the door to escape. However, your plans were in vain as there were two guards with the kitchen maid. It felt as though you had run into a wall when you collided with them. 

You couldn’t tell how long you had sat there, curled up on the cold marble floor, the only warmth coming from your thin day dress. Tears drying up after admitting to yourself that you were an animal locked in a cage, and that’s all you would ever be. A small canary locked in a desolate, rusty cage watching the bright, endless sky in longing.

The sky had begun to darken through your balcony window, the shadows in your room first receding then becoming new in the moons light. Your glazed eyes only focused on the floor, silence cutting you deeper and deeper as the hours ticked by. Wishing for things that could never happen.

Wishing to be free…free to go where you wanted. Free to see the world, all worlds. Free to love. Love? The image of the beautiful long haired blonde man flashes through the stars in your mind. His slender silhouette in the forefront of your mind appears in the shadows on the floor, not sure if you’re imagining it or if it could be real. Either way you don’t move, you can’t. Body frozen in place. 

“Miss?” A soothing concerned voice dances on the still air, stirring you from your trance. Your eyes gradually moving up to the glass doors, now open, the warm air covers you, the delusions of a man you can never be with melts away. The realization is slow to you, leaving the real man in your bedroom. 

“Hyunjin?” You croak quietly, voice catching as it feels like it’s tearing through your throat. 

He rushes over to you, warm hands cupping your cheeks searching through the depths to find you again. 

“I’m here, princess.” He urges, the tone in his voice is something you can’t place, but you’re too lost in your sadness. His presense pulling you out little by little. “You’re not alone.” 

Swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth feels rough but it gives you just enough relief to speak.

“How come when you call me princess it sounds so nice, but from others it sounds like a threat?” Softly chuckling to yourself, you see a glimmer in his eyes. A smile forming on his angelic face. If not for your state of mind, you would never speak like this outloud around him. The butterflies normally causing chaos in your stomach are fluttering with a want to fall deeper into his eyes. 

His thumb begins to caress the plump skin on your cheeks, “My princess.”

Realzing you’ve exposed yourself, you begin to feel your body heat up. Embarrassment invades your sense, your cheeks and eyes giving you away. 

“What are you doing here?” You whisper, enclosing his hands in yours and pulling them away from your face. Not really letting go of them, for fear of dropping again. 

“I have to show you something.” He stares down at your hands on his, hesitantly feeling the soft flesh of your delicate hands.

Hearing footsteps pass by your door, you glance at the menacing wooden behemoths. Do you risk going with him? The possibilities of him being punished for helping you break out of your dim cell are endless. You have no idea what your father would do to him, but whatever it would be would be wishing for death. 

Or do you throw all concers away? He risked so much to just come here, he knows how bad this could be…but still he came.

“Will you come with me?” There’s almost a pleading sound in his voice, strained in a way. You look back to him. On his knees infront of you on the marble floor, large hands in yours, dressed in black only with a wish for you to go with him. Something unspoken passes in his eyes, you vaguely see it before it’s gone.

“Yes.” You sound out of breath when you finally answer. His smile knocking the wind out of you. He jumps to his feet, pulling you up with him, never letting go as he runs the both of you to the balcony. You peer over the edge, 3 stories down is the lush green grass and flower beds. You assumed he had climbed up something, but you see nothing he could have used.

“How-?” You cut yourself off, dry laugh stopping you from even finishing your thought. From all the times you’ve known Hyunjin you’ve learned not to ask. Somethings about him could be explained, but others seemed too impossible to try.

“Do you trust me?” He dead pans for a moment before raising an eyebrow to you.

“Always.” 

If tonight was the last night you could be yourself, to truly let yourself feel things you never let yourself before, then no more acting coy. No more covering it up. Honesty for one night, before the rest of your life lying, lies entrapping you to be who your family demanded of you. 

He steps up onto the stone edge of the balcony, hand reaching out to help you alongside him. You don’t hesitate as you follow him up. The height dizzying you, you clasp harder onto him. He lets out a small laugh as his arms reach around you, one around your back and the other under your legs. 

You squeak in surprise. You had not been expecting to be carried bridal style in this situation. Your arms loop around his neck, staring at him in disbelief. 

“Still trust me?” Mischief cracks onto his features. 

“Al~wa~ys~” You dare him.

“Close your eyes then.” He whispers into your ear, to which you do so. Now whether that was from the closeness of his voice and breath on your skin or just following commands, you didn’t know. 

Regardless, before you can even process you feel a rush of wind race past you, your body feeling momentarily light before gravity restarted. 

“It’s time to run princess.” His soft voice sings. You peer one eye open, the other quickly following when see that you are now on the grass. No questions, you warn yourself. He gently places you back on your feet, this time it’s you who extends your hand for him to take before running off into the surrounding forest. 

You don’t know where you’re running, but it doesn’t matter. Everything that’s happening in these past moments, could all be a dream. Even if this turns out ot be one for now you would fully embrace it. Before long he’s overtaking you, his enchanting laugh fills your ears as he directs you deeper and deeper into the wooded dangerous area. The light of the moon beaks through the tops of the trees, your lunges inflating with an air you had missed. 

You both burst through the tree line, illuminated by the stars and moon is a small clearing. A pond reflects back the night sky creating even more of an endless illusion. You walk past him as he slows, dropping his hand to full take in all that is around you. For the first time in what feels like forever your heart feels full, full of life, full of wonder, full of joy. 

Your breath stops, heart beats wildly when you look to him. His hair even more golden by the moon, skin so smooth like diamond, eyes showing exactly what you see when you gaze upwards. You can’t think of what to say…. There’s so much unknown about him, so much more that you want to know. Trying to regain your thoughts when he appears like this proves futile.

“Would you honour me with a dance princess?” He bows, before reaching out a hand. You can’t help but laugh, thoughts returning to you. 

“You’re supposed to be showing me something” You squint at him, smirk on your face. 

He steps up to you, his breath on your skin makes you shudder. Closer then you thought you could have, but not close enough to what you wanted. 

“One dance” His pointer finger shows the number as he pouts cutely at you. 

“One.” You agree, giving in all too easy.

He takes a step back to allow himself room to offer you his hand. His smile taking a mischievous turn, you laugh as you accept it. Instantly the subdued butterflies are beginning to become jittery as they normally do when he is close to you. 

Pulling you close he wraps his other arm around you, you fight against the sound wanting to announce your inner thoughts as his body becomes flush with yours. You remember yourself enough to lift your arm to rest on his shoulder. He starts you both off in a casual step, occasional spins making you feel more light headed… maybe it wasn’t the spins….becuase when you come back to him, his smile is blinding. 

The dance becomes more complex, lifts and turns you’ve never done before. But here, in his arms it all seems familiar. Every move playfully calculated by him to make you laugh, to make you feel giddy and light. This is a moment you’ve only seen in your dreams, but somehow it’s real. 

The warmth of his hand on your lower back. The firm safety of his arm around you. The sturdy comfort of his chest pressed to yours. You’re too afraid to blink, terrified to miss a single moment. A moment that could come crashing to an end in a split second.

A slow dip takes you by surprise as he pulls you back up this time faces only inches apart, his face aglow with a purple light. The whole clearing is now covered in purple. He keeps you close, continuing to dance with you eyes locked on your reactions. Your mind is spinning, confusion on how there could be light this far in. Curiosity gets the better of you, tilting your head back to look up. 

In that moment, every unexplainable thing about Hyunjin is no longer out of your grasp. A purple beam of light trails straight out and down of the bottom of what to appears as a circular ship. Decorated with many white lights and grey features you cannot see in the midst of the shadows it is making on itself.

“It’s …” He slows your dance as he waits for your response. You don’t even register the fear in his trembling figure as you step back. Breaking contact to observe more carefully.

 “It’s beautiful” A smile from your heart appears on your face, eyes showing the purple lights dancing in them. Everything you wanted to escape was right there, even if you weren’t meant to leave, your dreams of it existing was something astonishing. 

“You’re beautiful.” 

You feel your heart constrict. The heaviness now returning. Reality of what this meant for you…for him..for you both setting in. 

“I see you.” Is all you can manage to say, body betraying you as tears stream down your face. He’s with you in an instant, cupping your face adn wiping them away. 

“You see what I truly am. But you don’t know my heart. Not yet,” The pleading in his eyes returns. His voice shaking as he speaks. “The only reason i stayed, the only reason I took this job. Was to stay close to you, I adored the way you were. I wanted to be able to watch you become something magnificent. But I can’t let you go without telling you….”

“Telling you how much I love you.” 

One sentence from him simultaneously breaks your heart and heals all of your past, in an instant. Choking on your tears you can’t find words. As much as you loved him, could you accept that he wasn’t from your world? Could you run away from your life and family just liked you always dreamed? Did you love him enough? Did you truly know what love was? 

“You don’t have to say anything. Please just listen to my last request-” You can only nod at him. “In two days time I have to leave, I have to go back home to my planet, but I want you to come with me. I want to give you everything in this universe and more.”

Your wide eyes stricken with panic fill with more tears. He’s leaving? But he wants you to go with him… You didn’t know what to do.

“No, no, don’t panic.” He reads your emotions quickly. “I’ll be here before I leave, I can wait till then for your answer. I won-”

“Princess!” An angry dark shout breaks the moment, dreadful silence following after. 

 The ships lights turn out and it disappears completely, before you’re brain has time to catch up.

“There looking for me.” Now panic for a different reason rises. Your eyes dart around the edges of the clearing. Nothing visible yet, there’s still time. “You need to run.”

“What? No, princess.” His face morphing to confusion and concern.

“Please? For me, run. I don’t want you to get hurt.” You beg, holding his hands to your chest. To let him feel the calm stray rhythm of your heart. “Besides what can they do to me? Lock me in a room and marry me off to some old guy?”

Your joke lacks any humour, as you both know what your asking him to do. 

“I promise to think about it, I promise to give you an answer, but you need to run.” You’re mind set, watching the emotions play through his eyes. “Please?”

He kisses your forehead before retreating back, the voices getting angrier as they approach. 

“I’ll be here. I’ll wait.” He takes off running. 

You become breathless as a cluster of Guards find you alone in the clearing. “You better feel lucky that we found you when we did, you’re father was demanding your head at one point.” 

You roll your eyes as you’re dragged back to the castle, steeling yourself for the punishment you were about to recieve. 

👑 👑 

“I hate this colour…” You mumble to yourself, staring at the ballgown chosen by your family. Not only was it a colour you didn’t like, but it has a terrible silhouette, uncomfortable material, but it was also to mark you as the bride to be tonight. 

You tsk angrily at it once again as you saunter over to your window. Barred balcony doors now only letting you catch a glimpse of the night sky. 

A night had already passed since you were seized and detained at the palace again. He said he’d wait for you, but you had no way of getting there. No way of sending any sign of your situation. And of course tonight of all nights Lord Tun and your parents had decided would be the engagement party.

A knock at your door tears you away from your angry stupor. 

“Come in.” You call, unmoving. You hear the door creak open and rustling drawing near.

“Princess, a gift has been delivered to you.” One of your families longterm maids informs you. She was the only person in this retched place that had any pity and remorse towards you. She learned quickly to never show it infront of your family, but you knew she was always worried for you. 

“What is it?” You question, a gift? Who would send you a gift? “A dress?”

She hangs the large garment bag from the clothing rack. Unzipping the white cloth and revealing the most beautiful gown you had ever seen. Layers upon layers of a soft grey material, in sections almost seeming black incredibly detailed with silver lining. Sparkles catching the light upon every movement, dusted over the whole gown but concentrated around the hem. It was like stars in the night sky.

“Who?”

“I would assume the boy that sees the stars in you.” She offers. “I may be old, but I am not blind.”

“Do you think it’s too late?” 

She contemplates your question only for a moment before giving a devilish smile, “I say, give them one hell of a show and start running.”

👑 🛸🪐 

Running up each step, you’d lost your shoes long ago, dress hicked up so you won’t have to worry about tripping. You can’t afford to let anything slow you down, can’t look back. 

You swing the wood door open to the maids quarters, the metal key on the bed as she said it would be. Dashing through through the chamber you grab the cold key, palms sweaty you hold it to your chest. Your feet are numb to the pain of fleeing the Engagment party.  You turn down corridor after corridor, evading everyone frantically searching for you. 

Your lungs burn from not taking in enough air, but you ignore it. Nothing would stop you from getting out of this palace. Nothing.

So close are you to the hidden back door, the door only the maids know about. Your only true escape route.

There was no way you’d be forgiven for the scene you caused at the party. Making a grand entrance in the dress he left for you. The anger in your heart you finally spoke allowed, watching as the perfect faces cracked as your voice words assaulted them like a flaming train wreck. Maybe flipping the cake onto your parents as you ran past them was on the petty side, but by the stars it made you feel better. 

The shelving unit that hides the door comes into sight. Crashing into it, you push it aside, arms trembling with exhaustion. The key smoothly slides in the door, flinging it open you’re overwhelmed with the cool night air. Grabbing your skirt once again you waste no time. You take off running towards the clearing you have not been able to forget. The secret memories you’ve held onto for so long, flood your mind as you break the outer tree line.

Late nights sneaking out the court yards to watch the young boy train with the others. The pretty, soft face your butterflies first took flight for. His limbs long and thin, making him look awkward as he tried to keep up. You’d laugh at his endearing attempts, but your heart stirred. Eventually he grew into himself, his body being lean with muscle, every move becoming sure and strong. With that more fascination grew.

Sneaking around to catch glimpses of his combat training weren't enough. When he took on the roll of driver you were beside yourself when you found out he would be your alternate driver on occasions. That in itself made you show up at more family events, much to your dismay and parents approval of appearances. But having him for any moment for yourself made all the nights worth it. 

Catching any sight of him in the palace walls made the torment more bearable. The first time you had a real conversation on a drive back from an event you thought for sure the beating in your heart could be heard from the backseat. Swallowing down the involuntary need to stutter or rush your words out in fear of saying something abrasive. But the more he spoke the more you wanted to listen, and the more he encouraged you to speak as well. 

The feeling of normality but in something so extraordinary.

Everything in you is screaming in pain as you finally close in on the clearing. Your feet bleeding from the forest floor, lungs on fire, fatigue wearing on you. Still you hope on everything in this world he is there. Waiting for you.

Bursting through the thick trees, you see his figure standing in the middle of the grassy plane. 

“Hyunjin!” You manage to scream, although it comes out hoarse and the burn bites back. 

He turns to you just in time for you to lunch yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck. You feel him freeze in shock for a moment then his arms wrap around your torso. He holds you incredibly close.

“Princess” He whispers into your hair, inhaling your scent as he tightens around you. You lean into him but shift to try to take the pain off of your feet, now that you’ve made it your mind and body are catching up with eachother.

He notices instantly, pulling back to look you up and down. You dress had ripped at the hem, must have caught on something as you were running. Because of the rip he can see you bloody feet. He kneels down infront of you, lifting one with a feather light touch to examine it. 

“Are you in much pain?” The concern in his voice and his skin on yours, even how small it is, makes you feel as though you could dance forever. 

“Not now.” You shake your head. He continues to look at the torn skin.”I see what you are…”

He freezes, eyes widening up at you. 

“I know you are not from here, but far away.” You continue. “And that is a scary thought.”

You take a deep breath as his eyes start to swim with panic. 

“But you are still you, no matter where you’re from.” You smile, letting your heart sing fully for the first time. “I don’t need the universe. All I need is you. So wherever you go, I shall go too.”

Instantly the clearing fill with purple light again, it surprises you to look up. The same ship as before hovers over you, the beam in a circular perimeter around you both. You study it in awe, forgetting yourself and the man infront of you. 

Your curiosity is broken when he sweeps you off your feet, like that night, when he broke you out. You release a startled squeak, holding onto him now feels like second nature.

“My princess.” He coos at you, eyes shimmering with the stars in your heart. 

“Yes. Your princess.” You breath as he leans in, soft lips gently brushing against yours. The lights around you becoming too bright to keep your eyes open. His electricity and heat course through you and you know that you’ve left this world behind. 

All those nights wishing on shooting stars didn’t amount to anything, you should have wished on a fallen one. 

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The Two Towers

Francis Valois X Reader 

You lay in the bed you share with Francis, body shielded by the heavy plush duvets. Smooth against your skin, brushing as you shift. He marries her tomorrow, Queen Mary of Scotland will be his wife, and it leaves you in a predicament. As the daughter of an unimportant lord, your place in court is secured only by your long term relationship with Francis. Mary wondered what would happen when he married, would he give you up or would he be like his father? So many questions, and you wondered how the answers would play out. Have a mistress throughout his marriage, and his reign. When you feel the bed shift, you look over at him, who is actually looking over at you. Maybe you won’t admit it to him, look in those blue eyes and say the truth; but even you wondered what would happen after the wedding.

“Do you-“ Your father always said marry for money, but you don’t any rich man would take you. “My dearest Y/N… Will you stay with me, even after tomorrow?” He pauses. “You mean so much to me, I can’t imagine a forever that doesn’t have you in it.” His soft brush against your cheek, the way his fingers are without imperfection.

“I don’t believe that’s a choice I can make.” You are a nothing compared to him… He is the future king of France, and you will always come second to him. If he chooses to keep you in his bed, in his arms—then he’d be keeping scandal close to court. Instead of staying far from the scandal.

The way his lips brush against your temple, your eyes close. “My love, it is a choice ONLY you can make.” Is it though? You really are not sure what it means to make that choice.

When he is at the end of the aisle, it is not Mary in here white he is looking at, but you in your emerald ensemble. Your eyes glittering as you smile at him. Your Francis. He has always been yours, and last night, when faced with the choice of walking away—you really couldn’t leave. Because you are as much his as he is yours. You nod. He can marry for the good of France, but you will stay until you are unable to stay. And even then. You would choose Francis in any lifetime and you cannot imagine a lifetime without him. He will marry for the good of country, for France—but you will love him for his sake, and your own. You love him. You have loved him since he met you in the music room.

When he saw you, your music tutor absolutely infuriated by your inability to pay them any mind, or any attention to the written notes. You sing what you want to sing, and do as you please—you laugh as the tutors cheeks turn red with anger. You smile as you sing another octave higher. To which the tutor responds by stomping off. Francis applauded, you remember that clearly… “Ive never seen him so upset.” “Oh he loathes me.” You laugh again, “I’m Y/N.”

Francis feverishly glances over at you as Mary, his wife, moves towards you rapidly. Not unkempt, just faster than a brisk walk. You were always respectful before the marriage, especially in public; never spoke to him out of turn, never even danced, and never overshadowed Mary. Because it is not your intention to make her feel like Francis prefers you, that’s not fair.

You swallow, but stand your ground and smile before you bow lowly in respect. “Queen Mary.” She smiles, a beautiful smile, one that makes you wonder. Beautiful.

“Lady Y/N! I wanted to ask you a favor…” A favor? You can hardly imagine what good asking you a favor could do, when she’s the Queen of Scotland. But you nod, and take her extended arm.

“Dance with Francis—he’s an absolute bore at these parties, all he does is stare at you and act like he wasn’t staring at you when someone notices.” Your eyes widen, as you truly begin to realize where she is leading you to—who. Francis is so close, you can see the shimmer of lights hitting his golden halo of curls.

“But Mary…”

“No buts… God will need to help us all if he spends another party pouting in the corner.”

“I never meant to…” She slows her walk, looking at you with a soft and kind smile.

“Y/N… You were here years before I was. And you’ll likely far exceed my time here. I always knew it was you.” Your nerves are seemingly melting away as you glance over at her. Hardly able to believe what she is saying, “I married him for country, but he loves you.” She doesn’t stop smiling, beginning to walk through the crowd of movement. “Y/N. I want us to be friends. To work together. A united front.”

The wife and the mistress… A united front of support for the future king, maybe it could be strong, but you worry about the differences. You don’t have a country, or any stake in this without Francis—you will always be able to put him first. Without any thoughts. “But for now—just dance with the lovesick puppy.” You nod, walking in the direction of Francis, beautiful blonde curls that frame his features so perfectly.

“What-?” His expression is one of shock, and a tad worried; he can’t remember the last time you broke your one rule. You always swore you would never overstep, despite his insistence that it is okay. So why now? Why the evening of his wedding did you decide you were okay with not playing pretend. You shush him, and take him by the arm—dragging him towards the center floor.

“Just dance with me, love.” It sounds so easy, and it is—he pulls you in close, the deep black tone of his overcoat clashing with the emerald shade of your dress. The gold adornments standing out against the deep colors. His hand at the small of your back, he holds on tight and takes your hand into his. This is more than just a dance for him, it means the world. It makes the whole world stop, and just like that—you are his bride. He didn’t marry Mary, but instead, it was the wedding of his dreams with you as the center of everyone’s attention.

“I think I can manage that.”

So you dance, and for every look you receive—Francis’ smile only grows. It heals the wounds those stares intend to leave you with, and makes them simply obsolete things in your peripheral. You smile, and he smiles—and you dance until your feet hurt. You love him, and that’s okay. He loves you—you glance at Mary, who is smiling at you both, talking with Lola. He loves you, and that’s okay.

Yet those smiles have almost completely faded over the last few years, as you try to force a smile while you finish your breakfast. Tension thick, and you just keep your gaze on your book… Francis and Mary have always made an effort to take breakfast together, with you sitting to Francis right and them both at the heads of the table. Usually, one or two of Mary’s ladies would join—or Catherine. But this time it is just you, and them.

You take your last bite of biscuit and the last sip of your juice, and close the book you have vainly kept in front of you. Your smile is tense, as you finally glance between the pair and begin to speak: “Well I believe I am going to take my leave now. As I am not qualified to be your marriage counselor.” You stand.

“No Y/N. Sit down.” You sit. Her words are harsh and fiery, and you don’t like it, but you listen because she is your Queen. Maybe they’ll stop, or maybe they will let you leave, but you are stuck for now. Between the feuding royals, and whatever happened between them over the last few weeks.

“Honestly, I really do think I should go…” But it is all in vain, as Francis tries to ignore it all by focusing on his breakfast.

“Tell them how you locked me in a tower.” She hmmms, and you groan—you told Francis that was an idiotic plan when he ran it by you one night. As a hypothetical, but now you know that it was never a hypothetical question. It was a reality for the Queen of Scots, but you just don’t understand why he would do such a rash thing. Francis is usually smarter than that. “How it was for my own good, when the truth is—you were just upset I was going to Scotland.”

It was always her intention to go back to Scotland, and Francis always seemed supportive of that intention. You try to read him, but his expression is even. Unmoving. “Francis-?” He hushes you, his eyes have grown darker than you expected them to be. He’s never like this.

“Mary, did you expect me to let you run off with your lover to Scotland? Wives don’t have the same graces as husbands. And Queens don’t get to runaway just because they’re lonely.”

“You’ve given me no choice, Francis!”

“Mary-?” You don’t even know who to address, and wish you were far away from this conflict.

“No. I am alone in this marriage. I have been from the beginning.” She is seething. “You have always had your Y/N… I needed that, and that was Conde!” That’s why you were here, because you were the center of this fight without ever intending to be. So much for a united front.

“You don’t understand what that means.”

“Oh Francis—I understand perfectly. Y/N-“


“Don’t bring Y/N into this!” You should have just left, but instead you lean back into your chair, feeling smaller than before. Maybe you made the wrong choice that night.

“How can I not? When I don’t get to have what you have.”

“You just can’t-“

“Y/N deserves better. And so do I.”

She is gone, and you are left with Francis in silence. Your throat is tight and you just have to face the silence head on, without worry. But you don’t. You sit there in your chair, looking at the table with disdain.

“Y/N…” You shake your head, eyes misted over as you try to process everything that was said. He locked her in a tower. You have grown to respect Mary, she’s good to have at your side in moments of crisis—especially when your back is pressed against the wall. She’s a survivor.

Maybe you should speak, explain what’s happening in your head, but you can’t. You push up from the table and walk away without another word, you have to find Mary. Or an empty room. Whichever comes first.

Once both women have left the room, Francis leans his head into his palms—chest heaving. He had to do it. That’s what he tells himself, it’s the only thing that keeps him grounded at the moment as he swallows. 

“Well well, your majesty. Quite a feat to piss off the wife and the mistress, all before breakfast.” Narcisse. He hates him, that bastard Lord who has tortured him these last weeks. He has forced him to make decisions that have put incredible distance between him, and the two closest people he has. His Y/N, and his wife. Created a rift that will never heal over the same as before.

“Go away Narcisse.” Francis can hear the smirk, the snide smile of the devil that occupies French Court. He is never far away, but always close and always up to something.

“Mmmmm, now why would I do that? When I need you to do something, for me. I mean, France.” More sneaky lies, that will cost him everything that is good. This has defined what kind of King he will be, and it is not the kind he ever intended to be.

Aww look at him go, he's so cute

Anatolian shepherd dog puppy in training 

(Source)

nonidol!eric sohn x f!reader

you won't think golf is a boring sport after he's done with you! (but it's not about golf, and it's not about swings. just a young heir with money, love, and a thing for you.)

▷ genre, warnings. technically s2l, country club au, summer break au, starts with him already into you, slight pining? idk, fluff, humor, rich people™, golf lol, swearing, drinking, kissing, it gets like actually romantic, Eric Sohn bc he's so attractive someone help me.

▷ word count. 11.4k

▷ inspired by swing my way (cha cha malone & phe r.e.d.s)

a/n: one of my submissions for the deoboyznet summer on you event! and @mosviqu who implanted the idea of country club rich boy eric into my brain @@

It wasn't like Eric Sohn, heir to his parents' multi-million dollar investment firm, prized shortstop of the UCLA baseball team, planned to spend his entire summer charming his parents' clients and partners. A summer spent at the Beverly Hills Country Club wasn't something new for the young heir either. The rolling, emerald green hills for golf; the clean cement tennis courts; the dim and classy bars were all ingrained in him since childhood. They were environments Eric had learned to thrive in, and when one had the advantage, one was always taught to wield it like a blade.

At least, that was what he was taught. Over the years, he'd also learned that his extroverted personality and charming smile were disarming—and his pretty boy appearance often resulted in others underestimating him. That was their mistake.

"...that trip to Taiwan will be such a great opportunity to explore the relationship between our companies."

Eric clasped Mr. Thomas Tsaur's hand in a firm shake as the two men stood at the final hole of the golf course. Eric beamed. "Yes, of course! I know my mom would love to see the night markets around Taipei; my parents have been looking forward to the trip all year," he said, as easy as breathing air. Of course, he didn't really know if his parents were looking forward to it. If he was the one on his way to Taiwan instead, he knew that he himself would be ecstatic.

During business meetings—and meetings that weren't officially classified as business, but were definitely about business—Eric tried to stay as true to himself as possible. Once in a while, some of the persona he'd built up slipped through the cracks, but there was a reason he liked baseball more than business.

Mr. Tsaur made a pleasant reply back about promising a fun-filled tour of the city with his wife, and the two of them were splitting up. There were offhanded comments about seeing each other for dinner when Eric's parents finally arrived, but that was all that was left of the interaction.

Eric jogged down the hill toward the conventional path where a white-topped golf cart sat waiting for him. His driver and caddy companion for the day was Jacob Bae, a regular worker here at the country club whom Eric had known for at least a couple years now.

But instead of just Jacob and the cart, Eric found that someone else had joined the group.

You sat in the second row of the golf cart with a circular serving tray pressed over your lap. Like some of the other staff members at the club, you wore the standard black, collared shirt and black skort. He'd seen you around this place plenty of times this summer and even greeted you once or twice, but he knew you were new.

Oh, trust that he knew a new face when he saw one, especially when said face was as pretty as yours. The only shame was that you were often assigned to areas where Eric didn't exactly frequent, but he never took himself as the type to give up easily.

You and Jacob were sharing a laugh as Eric approached the golf cart with his golf putter in hand. "Hey guys," Eric chirped.

All the attention flickered over to Eric, but he couldn't stop staring at the way the slight breeze this afternoon was making your hair fall in your face all pretty. Even in a braid, the little strands fell out to frame your face.

"Oh, hi Eric! How was the last round?" Jacob asked as he twisted around in his driver's seat to watch Eric round the back to put his putter away. You had shifted in your seat slightly to follow him with your eyes, as well.

Eric slid the stick into his bag and caught your eyes. His smile widened. "It went well. Same old, same old," he chuckled, bracing a gloves hand on the roof of the cart. "When'd you get here, Yn?" He asked you with a nod of his chin.

You perked up at the sound of your name. Cute. "Ah, just a few minutes ago," you said. You sheepishly gestured to your empty tray. "Haknyeon dropped me off a few holes over to deliver drinks, and then I saw Jacob over here and walked over to catch a ride back to the clubhouse."

"I can't believe he just ditched you," Jacob chortled.

Eric circled around the cart to take the seat in the front beside Jacob. "He ditched you?" He frowned, leaning his arm over the back of the seat to look at you.

As the cart began making its smooth return down the path and over a small bridge, you smoothed your braid over your shoulder. "No, no! He didn't ditch me; we were just headed in the same direction until we… weren't," you mused. "I mean, if Cobie wasn't here, a walk back wouldn't have been the worst thing anyways."

"I guess," Eric agreed, biting his lip. "So, uh… ever played golf before?"

"Golf? It's been a while, but yeah, I've driven the occasional golf ball across a green."

From the driver's seat, Jacob slapped his right hand down on Eric's shoulder. "Yn-ie! This guy's one of the best casual golf players you'll probably ever meet. His swing? So clean."

Eric chuckled, clasping a hand on the back of his neck, when he felt your attention flicker back to him again. "I'm no pro…"

"I'll have to see that for myself then," you said with a smile.

The golf cart slowed to a stop in front of the doors into the main kitchens of the clubhouse proper. Because this main kitchen was so large, they were given their own set of doors directly to the outdoor courts and beyond for easy access. While Jacob would drop you off here, he would have to continue onward for Eric's proper spot.

You clambered out of the golf cart, poking Jacob in the shoulder as you went. "Bye, guys! Thanks for the ride, Cobie."

"Bye, Yn!" Both boys chimed together. When you disappeared behind the swinging kitchen doors, Jacob pulled the cart back onto the main road to carry onward.

Eric settled into his seat to face forward once again. He lifted the cap off his head and carded a hand through his hair to let the strands, dampened with sweat, dry a bit. "I didn't know Yn was allowed to work the golf range," he commented as innocently as possible.

Jacob made a small humming noise. "Yeah, we're short a couple people out here because of the Ferndale event going on down by the gazebo."

"She wasn't sent there?"

"Did you want her to be sent there?" Jacob grinned slyly at the young heir, who turned his gaze elsewhere.

Eric coughed. "I didn't say that."

His companion still would not wipe that knowing smile off his face, even as he slowed the golf cart to a stop and Eric hopped out to collect his equipment from the back. "I didn't say you did," he snickered as Eric walked away.

He didn't give Jacob the satisfaction of an answer, instead, saying a "thank you" for driving him over his shoulder, before ducking inside the clubhouse locker room.

Jacob shook his head in amusement and began making his way further down the path to return the cart. Silly, silly kids.

You didn't realize country clubs were real until you were sitting in the office of the Beverly Hills Country Club's hiring manager and being hired. That was about a month ago, and no, you still didn't believe it was real. The entire training experience, in fact, had swept through like a fever dream.

The summer season had just begun, though, and they had taken you on in a rush of desperation. You hadn't failed to notice how relieved the hiring manager looked when you told him you'd worked as a waitress at an upscale wedding venue before you moved cross-country, and knew how to carry a drink platter and dirty dishes. That was part of the reason you'd been hired on the spot. You'd also mentioned your extensive knowledge of how to fold cloth napkins into swans, and you liked to think that was your true selling point. (Don't ask, the last part was because you had been very bored while waiting in the backroom during a wedding.)

And while you cared little about cleaning pools or catering to rich prick egos, you did care about the crisp green bills that graced your eyes with more frequency than a Superman actor on Hollywood Boulevard. There was also the possibility to gain some more experience in the dining and catering world; if you were lucky, you could butter up your manager to let you help out in the kitchen some.

After all, that was why you were here so far from home.

"Yn, you've got company at table five," Haknyeon said as he passed by you on his way into the kitchen.

You gave a nod out of instinct. You brushed your hands against your black waist apron, absentmindedly reaching up to also smooth out the black vest on your upper half. Usually when you worked at the club's restaurants and bars as wait staff, your uniform consisted of a white button down under a black vest, followed by a black skirt and apron. It was classy and chic, and definitely added to the expensive atmosphere.

You could see table five in your section up ahead. It was a little early into dinner service, but there were still people who came in. To your surprise, the company at table five was none other than Eric Sohn himself, along with two others you recognized as his parents. They were dressed casually—meaning semiformal. It was something out of a dinner cruise, with Eric's dark brunette waves styled effortlessly messy and the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone to reveal the slightly bronzed, toned skin beneath—

You cleared your throat, plastering a smile on your face as you approached the table. "Evening, everyone. Mr. and Mrs. Sohn," you gave a small greeting bow to his parents, then swiftly doled out little napkins for their drinks. "It's nice to see you on the grounds again today."

"Oh, Yn! It's very nice to see you this evening," said Mrs. Sohn with a delicate flourish of her wrist.

"Yes!" Mr. Sohn chimed in, "What have you been up to? Eric says he saw you on the golf range today."

Your eyes darted to Eric's, then went back to his parents when you realized his eyes were on you. You laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and bracing the end of your serving tray against your waist. "Oh, uhm, yeah! I was just summoned down there to get some drinks to the Santos family—you know them, right?"

Recognition lit up in Eric's mother's eyes. "Yes, yes! Marina and her kids! Ah, well that sounds nice; I'll have to see if I can bump into her at the spa or something. Eric gave you a ride back in his cart, didn't he? The walk back is awfully far."

You nodded. "Yeah, of course. He was with Jacob, so I just hopped in the back and rode back with them here."

"I still owe you that golf date," Eric cut in smoothly, the hand with his Rolex draped over the back of his chair. His smile was casual, innocent, the kind that so easily could make anyone do his bidding.

"Golf date?" His parents glanced curiously between the two of you, and you felt heat rush up to your cheeks.

"It was just an offhand comment," you said sheepishly. "Jacob was telling me about how great of a golfer Eric is and I said I wanted to see his swing some time." Before anything else could be said on the matter, you tucked your tray under your arm and replaced it with your notepad and pen. "Can I get you anything to drink? An appetizer to start?"

That drew away the conversation promptly. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with the idea of going on a date with Eric Sohn, it just wasn't that simple. Though the club officially encouraged good relationships between staff and club members, they didn't exactly encourage the romantic kind of relationship. Obviously, it would be impossible to enforce a no-entanglement policy completely, but you wanted to stay on your manager's good side.

You nearly folded in half over the counter of the tiki bar at the pool. Sweat streamed down the side of your face, and you were pretty sure your baby hairs looked akin to a lion's mane under your white baseball cap. Thank god the club didn't force you to wear a black colored hat instead; the black polo and skort were death enough.

Jacob chuckled as he passed you a clean, damp towel that had been soaking in ice water. "Before you get heat stroke," he said, then returned to preparing a tray of drinks someone had ordered at the hot tub.

You thanked him profusely, dabbing your face and neck with the cool blessing. "Sheesh," you groaned. "I think I need to reapply my sunscreen soon. How are you out here all the time, Cobie?"

He grinned with a half-hearted shrug. "Well, I work with cold drinks and I'm under the shade. And—" he tapped the handy little fan clipped to one of the structure poles of the tiki bar, "—this beautiful work of engineering."

"I need one of those umbrella hats and squirt bottles kids bring to Disneyland," you grumbled and plucked yourself up from the bar. You returned the towel to Jacob so he could toss it into the soiled towel bin on the other side of him. You watched as he finished up filling the tray and whistled at the pool waiter who had ordered it for the group at the hot tub.

As the waiter walked away with the drinks, you thought aloud, "How could they stand to be in the hot tub in this heat?" From here, you could see the group of girls gathered in the bubbling jets of the hot tub at the far end of the pool in their bikini tops and Gucci shades.

"They're not standing—they're sitting."

You sent Jacob an unimpressed look, to which he simply smiled wider.

"Hey guys!" Ji Changmin huffed and puffed as he collapsed onto the barstool next to you. He had a towel hanging around his shoulders and a white sweatband holding up his dark bangs dripping with sweat. "Can I get an ice water, hyung?"

"Yeah, man," Jacob said, already dumping a scoop of ice in a cup.

"You alright there, Changmin?" You glanced over at the club's dance instructor with barely concealed amusement.

Changmin took the corner of his towel to dry the dribble of sweat making its way down his forehead. "Whoever thought it was a good idea to do hot Zumba in the height of summer needs a reality check. I think I'm dying."

As one of the country club's primary dance instructors, not only did Changmin lead all of the dance activities on the grounds, he was also supposed to take over any dance aerobics classes like said hot Zumba. You knew it wasn't his favorite, but it was still funny to make faces at him through the window as he did can-can kicks in leg warmers with all of the rich moms.

You leaned down to check if he had the leg warmers on. He did not. At least he finally had the good sense to break uniform.

Jacob slid over an ice-cold glass of water, and Changmin drained it like a man who trekked through the desert for seven days. You glanced at Jacob's digital clock on the counter behind him—he kept it so he could be on time for all of his breaks.

"Oh shit," you said, quickly fixing your cap and adjusting your hair, "time for me to get back to work."

Changmin straightened. "Where are you stationed today, Yn-ie? Chanhee and I wanted to come pick you up later for dinner before we have to come back."

"That's right!" Jacob slapped his palm to his forehead. "We have to all be back here for the banquet. I almost forgot, damn it."

You cocked a brow at him. "Wow, you, Jacob Bae, almost forgot about the major event all of our jobs are riding on that's taking place tonight?"

A smile curled onto your face when Jacob narrowed his eyes at you. "Don't you have work to do?"

You let out a laugh and began backing away from the tiki bar and your friends. "Kim has me at the ice cream bar until the end of my shift, Changmin. I'll catch you boys later!"

Jacob and Changmin raised their hands in twin waves to you as you walked away. If you remembered the time on Jacob's clock correctly, you had about fifteen minutes to get up to the indoor ice cream bar for your shift.

Tonight, the country club was hosting a banquet for one of the business men here. It was supposedly one of the most important events for the club's reputation, so it was all hands on deck. Everyone from Chanhee at the spa to Haknyeon in the kitchen were called upon to clock into work once again tonight to help out. You were glad you weren't a part of the set-up and takedown committees, but you were expected to wait on the banquet. Jacob was supposed to be bartending tonight, as usual, and your other friends and coworkers would be waiting alongside you.

You glanced up on your walk out of the pool area and nearly tripped over the soles of your sneakers.

Coming in hot (literally) were none other than Eric Sohn, Lee Hyunjae, and Lee Juyeon—all of whom were very much shirtless. Swim trunks hung low on their waists, their stomachs carved like triplet Michaelangelos. Seeing shirtless guys at the pool wasn't new for you, but these guys were actually around your age.

Eric saw you first and waved. "Yn, hey!"

"Hi guys," you greeted back with a shallow nod of your head. "Nice day out for a swim."

"I know, right?" Hyunjae raised a hand to shield his eyes from the unforgiving summer sun. "You must be baking in that uniform, Yn." He raised his chin to gesture at the all black attire.

"I don't suppose you'd be able to join us?" Juyeon smiled. He knew you probably couldn't join them because you were clocked in, but he had always been pretty nice nonetheless. He and Hyunjae were cousins, and the Lee family was well-known around here for being big names in the legal sphere, as well as being one of the larger families. There was another cousin of theirs around their age running around here somewhere, too.

You gave a helpless shrug. "Duty calls, unfortunately."

"Yn, hey wait—" Eric caught your attention as you were about to continue walking up toward the main clubhouse. He flashed you that smile again, the one that made your stomach do flips and would convince you to do flips for him if only he asked. "You won't happen to be working at the banquet tonight, are you?"

"How'd you guess?" You replied good-naturedly. "Why do you ask?"

He began walking backwards toward the direction his friends had drifted off to, his smile tilting up slightly. "So I know which cologne I should wear."

And it definitely wasn't a trick of the summer sun that made you see him wink at you.

"He's into you."

"He is not—" you wrestled your sleeve up your forearm and made a frustrated noise when the button would not go through, "—into me."

Chanhee gave you a nice, slow eye roll just so you would see it, and he yanked the sleeve away from you so he could roll it up himself. "A lot of men around here like smelling nice, but no one pulls out the Acqua Di Gio just for the service girl or a business banquet," he hissed as a fellow waiter rushed past you two in the narrow corridor. "Jesus, why is this button such a bitch?"

"That's what I'm saying," you hissed back at him as the two of you both struggled to fix your sleeve. "Not the cologne thingy—I hate how you're able to just take a whiff and name the cologne. What kind of demon nose do you have?"

Chanhee sighed and collapsed against the wall opposite to you when he finally managed to get the sleeve right. The two of you were currently on break, not hiding, in this corridor. In T-minus two minutes, you would both have to be back out in the hustle and bustle of cleanup or after-party drinks in the lounge. Because the main course had finally been served, a lot of the waiters were allowed to go on break. The banquet thus far had gone relatively smoothly, other than the fact that when you had served Eric all of his courses, he'd made sure you practically melted on the smell of his cologne.

It wasn't your fault you had to bend down close to him to not spill the hot food. And it wasn't your fault that he chose to put his mouth right to your ear when he told you a joke, masking it as asking for more water.

You couldn't decide if you were going to giggle or let your knees buckle at that moment. Thank god you managed to laugh behind your hand and hustle away before anyone noticed.

But that was besides the point. The point was that Chanhee had also passed by Eric, caught the faint trail of Aqua De Whatever, and connected some dots.

"If you want a demon, you talk to Changmin," he said. "I just know my shit. And I also know that you only break out the Acqua Di Gio when you want to attract someone, and based on the fact he's currently seated around about fifty other businesspeople…" Chanhee made a wild, desperate gesture with his hands, eyes widened. Are you getting this? He seemed to ask. Because I will smack you if you aren't.

You fanned yourself, justifying it by thinking about how hot the back hallway was and this outfit was, rather than admitting that it was because Eric was hot. "Okay, okay. Come on, we have to get back out there," you said, already turning your heel toward the door.

"I'm just saying that clearly he's been trying to tell you something," Chanhee added as you both broke out of the hallway and into the kitchen. He grabbed a circular serving tray from a stack on the counter next to him to hand over to you.

"Well, what do you suppose I should do with that?"

He pressed his lips into a thin smile, taking hold of a small, empty cart and pushing it ahead of him. "Just keep an open mind, darling."

You and Chanhee separated at the kitchen doors out into the banquet hall. While he would be a part of cleaning up, you needed to head over to the next-door parlor where the party had moved post-dinner. Business would continue as usual, just with a few more drinks and pool involved.

The parlor room was arguably one of your favorite rooms in the club with its cozier atmosphere created by the evergreen walls, tiffany-shaded lamps, and dark oak furnishings. It was also outfitted with a hearth (unused during the summer and spring) and a billiards table. Most of those who had chosen to stay had migrated with a certain crowd of people they planned to continue chatting with. Your job, as well as the few others recruited to the parlor, was to be a fly on the wall until somebody needed something. If tips were passed around, you were free to pocket them.

You were probably standing and waiting for only five minutes before you saw Eric stand up from where he was on the far side of the room. He shouldered his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of his armchair, exposing the white dress shirt and black vest beneath. Whew, he was wearing a full suit to this event? You wondered how he even survived, but all conscious thought flew out the window when he caught you staring and started smirking to himself. The smug, little expression stayed etched into the sharp planes of his face even as he strolled over to the pool table and lined up his shot.

You wondered—and it was just a thought—what it'd be like (possibly) for him to lean over you—

"Excuse me, miss?" You shook out of your daze and remembered why you were here. Unfortunately, it was not to admire the young heir watching you from the other side of the room, but to serve guests.

For the next couple of hours, your job was exactly what you did. You had been so focused on running back and forth from the bar in the other room and back that you always seemed to have missed Eric trying to catch your eye again. If he wanted drinks, he had to suck it up and ask someone else who just happened to be near him instead.

As the evening dwindled into a sweet, humid night, the amount of guests also began to trickle down. You had grabbed a rag on your way back to the parlor room and said goodbye to your coworkers on their way out. Some still lingered for last minute clean up, and though you were technically done for the night, you wanted to wipe down anything you had missed. It was something simple that you could do to help out a colleague, and it wasn't like you were in a rush to go home.

When you walked back into the parlor room, however, you blinked—surprised—at the sight of an individual left. He leaned against the billiards table, one hand holding the edge of the suit jacket draped over his shoulder and the other scrolling through his phone.

Eric glanced up from his device and pocketed it at the sight of you. "Hey."

"Hi," you said back. "Uhm, can I get you anything—"

"Oh, no no. I'm good." He shook his head, pushing off from the table. He shot you that signature boyish smile of his and your heart began doing cartwheels. "I just wanted to ask if I could give you a lift home."

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Truthfully, you were caught off guard, stunned. This wasn't what you were expecting from him.

He saw your hesitation and let out a sheepish laugh, cupping the back of his head. "Sorry, this is so out of the blue. I… it's a little late out right now, and I didn't know if you had a ride or not. I know you're not usually scheduled to work so late."

"You know my schedule?" You blurted. Though, the thought did warm you and amuse you.

His eyes widened. "I mean, uhm, definitely not in the creepy, stalkerish sort of way! I uh, I like to think I pay a lot more attention when it comes to you." His admission didn't do much to slow the racing organ in your chest cavity. You always saw Eric Sohn as one of those smooth and collected young men who were born to charm. But seeing him flustered and tripping over his words because of you?

You ducked your head slightly, flattered and most definitely charmed still. "I'd really appreciate a lift home, Eric."

You both shared a smile in the slightly dimmed, slightly warmed lights of the parlor room.

Once you had finished glossing over the surfaces of the parlor room with your rag to catch any rings made by perspiring liquids, your manager dismissed you for the night. Eric told you he would meet you out front where he would bring his car around for you. You found yourself standing at the edge of the curb with a gentle, yet rare summer breeze wafting through your hair. You had your bag slung over your shoulder, and you grasped the strap and fidgeted with the material.

A car pulled up to the circular driveway—it was a sports car. The Corvette, sleek and aerodynamic, was doused in a shiny orange coat of paint that glimmered even in the night. The passenger side window rolled down so you could see Eric leaning over the center console and waving to you.

"Hey, hop in!" He said to you with a grin, lowering the music he was playing.

Gingerly, you walked up to the car and managed to maneuver yourself inside. The passenger seat was lined in soft black leather, and the inside of the car made it all the more easy to suffocate on that delicious cologne of his.

Eric had ditched his suit jacket and vest in the backseat of the car, leaving him in just his white dress shirt and slacks.

"Nice car," you whistled lowly as you buckled yourself in.

His mouth tilted upward. "Thanks," he said. He fussed around with his phone for a second before passing the device to you. "If you wouldn't mind putting your number and address in."

"Oh." It was a brand new contact page. You didn't question it, swiftly inputting all of the necessary information before returning his phone to him.

Eric took a peek at the address, then pulled out of the country club's driveway. You didn't live too far away from the club, luckily. It was only a few minute's drive, but the walk sometimes felt a bit longer. California didn't exactly have the most convenient public transportation system, and in an area like Beverly Hills, it was near impossible to find a reliable bus or train service.

"Any music preferences?" He asked you quietly.

You shook your head. "I'm not super picky. What you have on is all good with me."

"I have to confess, Yn," he said with a half smile, eyes darting toward you, "that I was trying to steal your attention all night."

Your stomach flipped and you suppressed the smile that threatened to crawl onto your mouth. "Really?"

He laughed. "Yeah, but obviously, your work ethic beat me out, as well as my own luck."

"Any reason for seeking me out?" He'd technically had your attention all throughout the banquet, but he had also needed to entertain and chat with the other people around him. While the after party was sometimes used for business discussion, too, the banquet dinner itself was the main event.

"I mean, besides wanting to talk to the cute girl eating up all my thoughts?"

He was turning onto your apartment complex's street all too soon. The car slid into a parking spot along the curb, and he twisted in his seat to face you. "I really want to take you out, show you a good time. It doesn't have to be something fancy if that's not your vibe; we can always start with golf."

You let the smile bloom on your face at the reference to the "golf date" you both had yet to schedule. You still wanted to see his swing, after all. "Then it's a date," you said, "I should have a free day two days from now, if that works for you."

Eric bit his lip. "I'm all yours, hon."

Before you could start doing somersaults from excitement, you resolved yourself to getting into your apartment first. "Well, thank you again for the lift, Eric. You have my number?"

He nodded. "Never losing it."

You grinned something fond. He grinned right back at you. "Get home safe."

"I will. Good night, cutie."

You slammed the car door shut and left Eric to his lonesome. Through the passenger side window, Eric watched as you disappeared into your apartment complex, safe and sound. He had almost given into the urge to ask if he could walk you up, but it was a miracle you had even taken him up on his offer to drive you home.

He pulled up your contact and sent you a text so you could have his number, too, as soon as possible. He deposited his phone into the cup holder, then punched the roof of his car with a shit-eating grin on his face. He'd scored your number and a date in one night—damn right, he did.

You had reasoned with yourself that this was okay based on the fact that you weren't on company time.

"Shoooooot," you whistled with a slight arch in your brows and applause. You tracked the distance Eric's driving shot sent the golf ball flying, and in the early morning sunlight, the white sphere disappeared over the crest of green hill.

You figured being courted by a club member during your own free time was a loophole you could live with. Especially when such a loophole looked so good swinging a golf club.

His follow through was just as beautiful as he was, his arms lifting the golf club over behind him from the arc. When he lowered the club to turn back to you, he was beaming. "What's the verdict?"

Your golf club was currently acting as your arm rest as you staked the head against the grass. "I don't know, Eric," you sucked in a breath, teasingly. "I think you could've gone pro."

He laughed then, eyes narrowed into glorious upturned crescent moons. "Thanks, cutie." He made a gesture to the tee. "All yours."

"Let me preface this by saying that it's been awhile," you were quick to say as the nerves suddenly bubbled up into your chest and made you wanna do a jittery shuffle. You should not have let Eric go first.

"No worries," he chirped. "Why don't we practice first?"

Yes, practice. Thank god he knew where your head was at.

You eagerly agreed, and set your golf ball up on the tee. Nervously, you smoothed your gloves down the front of your pleated golf skirt. You lined up the face of the golf club with the ball and pulled it back a millimeter—

Then chickened out.

"Performance anxiety," you grimaced to your date.

"Oh, well, that's okay!" Eric set his golf club down on the field and made his way over to you. "Can I help?"

Yes. "Please do," you chuckled, leaving room for him to take your club.

But instead, he shook his head. "No, no. You won't learn anything from just watching, silly goose."

He grabbed the golf club over your hands and lined both of your bodies up correctly. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his front pressed against your back. His mouth was so close to your ear again, and there was that damned cologne making you see hearts.

"Sorry, is this okay?" He asked softly.

You gulped, nodding. "Yeah. Perfectly okay." You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat quicken like a drum crescendoing. If he wasn't careful, your heart might just fall out and run to his arms.

From this position, Eric smoothly guided you through the steps of a perfect swing. The pullback was cranked over your shoulder, then the club would swing straight through, followed by the arc back over your other shoulder and the appropriate turn of your body. As he had explained to you, getting the perfect swing or shot in sports mostly came down to the follow through. If one could not back up their initial movement, then why make the shot?

"—and you turn your body—yeah, just like that," he praised as you automatically rotated yourself from the side to the front, the toe of your foot digging into the ground and turning with you. "That's beautiful."

He backed up from you then, giving you some space. It suddenly felt like you were missing something with him gone. "You should try it now!"

You took a deep breath in as you lined your golf club up with the ball again. Cranking the club back over your shoulder, you swung it down and back up again. When the face of the club met the ball, it did so with a resounding PING!, and the ball went sailing.

(That sound… mwah. The sweet, sweet sound of triumph.)

"You did it!"

"I did it!"

It hadn't gone as far as Eric's had, but it had definitely traveled farther than it would have without his help. You whirled to him, clasping his hand with yours as you both shared equally radiant smiles. A giddiness flooded into you, and no doubt into the glow of your face.

"See? Not too bad," he said, squeezing your hand.

"All thanks to you," you pointed out.

He shook his head, using your linked hands to lead you back to where your golf bags were waiting a little ways back by the cart. "Nah, you had it in you, Yn. It was just performance anxiety, as you said."

The two of you each grabbed your own bags and hiked them over your shoulder to head down the hill and find your respective golf balls. From this view, you could see that the other patrons of the club were slowly trickling out onto the acres surrounding. It felt strange to be here as not a staff member, but as a guest instead.

Eric piped up, "Is it weird that I was hoping you would ask for my help?"

"Not really," you mused, then meekly added, "'cause I was kind of hoping you would offer your help."

He looked about as happy as you felt, and he swung your hands together between you.

It hit you, then, that you were still holding hands. But you didn't let go, and Eric didn't say anything. He just helped you find your golf ball, line up another shot, and hugged you from behind like it was nothing.

From across the pond, Jacob, Changmin, Chanhee, and Haknyeon pulled up over the bridge. The four of them were all piled into a golf cart, and Jacob stopped it just over the crest. They all knew about where you were today and why you were dressed in proper golf attire rather than the country club uniform. They watched with wide eyes (and maybe a camera or two) as you and Eric had a good time.

"Young love," Jacob sighed fondly from his spot in the driver's seat.

"I think it's gross," Changmin giggled. He yelped, furiously rubbing the place on his shoulder that Chanhee had whacked. "Hey! I was kidding!"

Chanhee rolled his eyes. "Let them have their moment. I'm glad Yn-ie let herself have fun with him."

"They look like they're having quite the time," Haknyeon said. "They're cute."

Changmin poked his head in between Jacob and Haknyeon from the backseat. "Just a thought, but what if we turned on the sprinklers like in High School Musical 2?"

An exchange of looks, a deep consideration… "No," they all chorused. They would get their asses kicked for that.

You were on lunch break when Changmin practically crashed onto the bench next to you with a crazed look in his eyes. "You. Me. Spa. Now."

You couldn't even say goodbye to the sandwich you were eating before Changmin grabbed your arm and dragged you across the club.

"Changmin! What the hell—"

"I'll explain in a second!" He hissed back at you while ducking into the service entrance of the spa.

The backdoor led to a staff break room, where Chanhee was currently (coincidentally) seated on a stool eating a box of Pepero while watching a cartoon on his phone. The man glanced up from his phone at the loud commotion, one cheek full of his snack, and he blinked. "You're lucky I'm not with a client right now."

"Yeah, yeah," Changmin said, dragging you and a stool over to Chanhee at the same time. He pushed your shoulders so you would take a seat. Changmin placed his hands on his hips as he stood before the two of you. "You're never gonna guess what I just overheard."

"What?" You and Chanhee asked at the same time.

"Well, you know Clara?"

Chanhee jumped right in. "The one fooling around with that Brian Yang guy. He's the heir to that one corporation monopolizing SIM cards or some shit."

How the hell…?

Changmin's head bobbed vigorously. "Yes, yes! That's the one. Anyways—I was walking past the manager's office and they were talking loud enough to hear with headphones on. Apparently, Clara and Brian had a nasty, nasty split, and Brian got her fired."

Silence.

Chanhee's eyebrows flew up. "Like… fired-fired?"

A grave nod. "Fired-fired."

You held your head in your hands. "Just because of a break up?" You asked. "Clara is such a nice girl."

Your friend's lips were pressed into a line. "Doesn't mean he's a nice guy. I dunno—" he threw his hands in the air and let them flop back against his legs, "—it's fucked, man. He said it was, like, too awkward to be around her all the time since he was here all the time. And because his father is one of the stockholders of the country club, Manager Kim could do little but do his bidding."

Your heart had fallen into the pit of your stomach. Drama like this didn't really happen often here, but there was always something going on.

You always thought there were assholes here, but sometimes they just kept on reminding you of it.

"And now I'm fooling around with one of the club members," you thought aloud. The realization hit you, a golf ball to the face. "Oh my god."

Chanhee's hand came up to your shoulder and gave you a soothing, warm squeeze. "Eric seems like a good guy, Yn-ie. You never know."

"But you really never know," you murmured. There was a reason why the club discouraged romantic relations between club members and staff. Perhaps this time, it wasn't about work productivity, but about keeping your damn jobs. You needed this job. You needed it so desperately because of the money, the opportunities, the connections. Not to mention all of the people you'd befriended here… it didn't seem right that you were scared of what Eric could do to you, but reality was settling in fast.

The Sohns were a major shareholder in the club, which meant they could pull strings like tying a shoelace.

But Eric is good. He's been good, you reasoned.

Changmin crossed his arms as he leaned back against the wall behind him. "You should talk to him. At the very least, you only went on one date, so it's not like you're completely involved yet."

That was a good point. You were going to run with it.

When Eric invited you over to his house, you should have known you were about to drive your beat up sedan into the driveway of a palace, not a house. A house was for normal people, not whoever the Sohns were, you knew that much. To say you were intimidated by the massive front lawn, iron gates, and limestone arches and columns would be an understatement. Maybe you should have worn something nicer.

You pulled up to the curb of the roundabout—he'd mentioned to you that you could just park there. Apparently the garage was a little inconvenient for guests, but you weren't complaining. The front of the house was a marvel to look at, and wherever that garage was would have left you unable to fully soak in this modern wonder. Plus, you had some time to pull yourself together before seeing Eric.

The plan was… no plan, really. He wanted to hang out with you, and you'd mentioned your love for cooking. Thus, he proposed a miniature cooking class in his kitchen, along with dinner on the patio. It sounded nice. It also sounded great when you remembered what you needed to talk to him about. (Yay.)

It's not a big deal. Eric's cool.

You finally managed to trek your way up to the front door and you booped the doorbell. It was one of those loud bells that must have echoed throughout the house, because you could clearly hear it from the outside.

A couple minutes later, you heard the locking mechanism come undone. The door opened after; you swore that every time you saw this guy, you became speechless.

You had seen him in a dress shirt before, but this tank top and over-shirt thing was new. It was casual and comfortable, yet chic. His hair was styled in the same manner his clothing was—simple and so attractive. A silver chain and matching silver rings added the subtle touch of elegance to pull everything together.

"Hi," he grinned—he was always smiling, you realized. It was such a pretty smile. He stepped aside and gave you room in the doorway. "Come on in, cutie."

"Thanks for having me over," you said pleasantly, trying not to openly gawk at the front foyer with the sky-high ceiling, chandelier dripping with crystals, and grand staircase wrapping around the walls up to the indoor balcony.

He closed the door behind you as you deposited your shoes by the small rack. Eric wrapped a loose arm around your shoulder to guide you through the foyer. "Of course! I'm so excited you're here; I went out—actually no, I…" he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "ordered it off that grocery app. I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for."

"Grocery app?" You laughed. "Are you talking about the stuff for dinner?"

"Yeah!"

The two of you entered the kitchen. It was a wide, open space that flowed straight into the living room. The cabinets were smooth and snow white, accented with countertops marbled with black and hints of gold. Though clean, it was a space well-loved with a recipe book left open to a lobster risotto; little candies left in a jar on the island labeled with chalk; barstools that weren't quite aligned, like they'd actually been sat on. The living room, too, was beautiful. Massive, but beautiful, with a wraparound couch sectional and a flat screen with family photos hung above it. It was framed by shelves filled to the brim with CD and DVD cases, more family photos, books, and little baubles.

And the lighting. Oh man, the natural lighting from the windows making up the entire back wall… it led out onto the acres of land his family owned, as well as a patio that overlooked the valley.

Eric had mentioned dinner on the patio. If your math was right, that meant you would probably be dining at sunset, all while overlooking a splendid view—how romantic. God, you hated how giddy you were starting to get. Those butterflies in your stomach would not cease.

"You have a really, really beautiful home," you murmured, letting him take your bag from you to place on one of the barstools.

You had always thought that big houses like this would be so difficult to fill. What was one supposed to do with so much space anyway? From the pictures on the wall, you could see Eric's parents, himself, as well as a sister who must have been out making her own mark on the world in that special Sohn kind of way. Even with just four people in this place… they still managed to make it feel like a home and not a house. It was like your own house back in your hometown, across the country. It was lived-in and warm and yours, and that was the beauty of it. And you were certain by just looking at this place that the Sohns were a family who loved each other.

How could you not believe in Eric? Not with all of this to vouch for him? He had grown up loved.

"Thank you," he said. "It's one of my favorite places to be. That's why I still haunt it like a ghost," he joked. He placed a warm hand on the small of your back and led you over to the fridge where he had put all of the grocery delivery bags in. Even the fridge was relatively stocked. "Not sure if everything I got was right, but hopefully it'll all turn out delicious anyway."

You helped him unload the bags onto the kitchen island, raising a brow at the labels on the groceries. They were on the higher end of price and quality, which definitely wasn't a problem, but holding a hundred dollar bottle of red wine just for sauce was making your anxiety levels spike. "Oh, no. It all looks great, Eric. Thanks for getting these, by the way. I would have gone out and brought them here, but—"

He waved away your worries. "You're busy and you're working. Plus, it lets me technically pay for dinner," he said with a cheeky look on his face and gesturing with a finger gun. It was cute. He was cute.

"Smooth, Sohn. I see you."

"That's what they called me in high school," he played along, dancing on his toes behind you to fiddle with his phone and turn on a speaker somewhere (you didn't know where). "Smooth Sohn."

You snorted, slapping a hand over your mouth. Eric's eyes glittered with a mutual mirth. "Whatever you say, honey."

He waltzed back over to you, tongue in cheek. "I like that better though—honey." He leaned back against the counter next to you and watched as you sorted out the ingredients in different piles depending on how they should be prepped. "So what's the plan, chef? You're the boss."

"I'd love to know where your knives and cutting boards are," you said.

He leapt into action. "Say no more!"

In reality, you did have to say more. It wasn't that Eric didn't know where everything was in the kitchen, he just wasn't as well versed in using the kitchen. He'd told you while teaching him how to hold a knife properly that he really only came in here for ramen. Good news was he could crack an egg with one hand; bad news was that was about all he could do. It was still charming, nonetheless. And the cute cooking lesson gave him plenty of opportunity to get close to you.

He had even insisted on you teaching him how to chop carrots like how he had taught you how to swing a golf club—over and around him—with your hands over his and your body wrapped around his, your chin on his shoulder.

But with dinner well past done, the two of you made your way out onto the patio just as the sun was sinking into the embrace of the valley below. It melted into the sky like a broken yolk, saturated and golden. He let you have the seat staring out into the valley. The way he looked at you though, made you feel like you were his million dollar valley view.

The table was set with twin glasses of red wine (amazing what a good wine paired with beef stew could do for the soul), plates separated by a hot stew pot, and a couple of candles for ambiance.

"Wow," he moaned as the beef melted on his tongue. "This is so good. And you're telling me you're pretty, smart, and can cook?"

You held back a giggle so you could swallow your bite. "And I'm single," you jested.

"And you're single!" He leaned his head back, eyes closed. "Thank god for that."

Eric leaned his cheek on his fist, his head cocked slightly and his eyes on you with a swoon-worthy admiration. "Thanks for coming out tonight and hanging out with me."

You could kiss him. "Please, I should be the one thanking you. It's been really fun hanging out with you." It was surreal, actually. The fact that this young heir had deemed you "worthy" or whatever to court and entertain—it wasn't like you defined your self worth by his attention and affection, but this felt nice. Your conversation with Changmin and Chanhee the other day came to the forefront of your mind.

"I, uhm, think this is a good time to ask if you wanted to do this more often? Hanging out with me, I mean."

You weren't sure if this was what you thought he was asking you. He reached for his wine glass, and in the fading sunlight and the candlelight illuminating the bashful expression on his face, your heart pounded.

"What I mean to say," he tried again after a small sip of wine, "is would you be my—"

"I think we should talk!" You cut in before you heard anymore. You were getting jittery, unable to figure out when was the right time to bring up the thing, but also, you wanted him to say his thing, and it was just a mess. But when you saw Eric's wide eyes, mouth zipped up, you repeated in a much calmer tone, "I think we should talk about something. It's not… it's not super serious or anything. I could just be overthinking."

Oh, you felt bad. He looked like a kicked puppy, but you saw him pull himself together for you. "It's—you're probably not overthinking, Yn. What's on your mind?"

The wine glass was put down. He even put his fork down.

Were you making a big deal out of this? Probably not, right? This was important, you reminded yourself. You pursed your lips. "So one of my coworkers—former coworkers," you amended, "Clara. Her name's Clara. She and this guy you might know, Brian Yang…"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know of him."

"Well, they kind of had this thing going on between them. And the other day, she was fired because they broke up and he thought it was too weird that she was working where he was hanging out all the time," you rambled on. "And I uhm, I just wanted to make sure from the get-go that… you know… it's stupid, I don't know. But it's my job, y'know? And—and I need this job, but I like you a lot, Eric. Am I making any sense?"

Neither of you were eating anymore.

You looked at him, hopelessly, searching for signs of understanding.

He leaned in slightly and reached for your hands over the table. "Yn, sweetheart," he said, lacing his fingers with yours over the pot of beef stew, "that is a valid point to bring up, and I can understand what you're probably thinking. That—that news must have been scary, or at least nerve-racking, and Brian's a dick for that—"

You nodded, swallowing.

"—and I don't want you to risk your job because of me," he said earnestly. "But I really want to see where this goes, you know? If anything happens and you don't feel the same way, then no harm, no foul. I'm not gonna take my emotions out on you like that asshole; that's not right."

The breath you had been holding in fell from your mouth, a wave of relief. A sappy, grateful sort of smile worked its way onto your mouth and you met Eric's own kind expression. "You are actually perfect," you let out a breathy laugh. "Where have you been all my life?"

He grinned. "Funny, that's what I've been thinking about you." Eric set your laced hands on the side of the table as he raised his glass to you. "So what do you say? Can we try this?"

You lifted your glass to gently clink it with his. "Let's do it."

"So he's perfect, but he hasn't kissed you yet?" Chanhee's gasp of incredulity hit you in a gust of air. His lips pursed like a penguin's beak. "Figures."

You sent him a look. "Oh, please. Figures what? He's just being… I dunno, chivalrous!"

"Chivalry is dead," Haknyeon snickered as he waltzed by you with fresh towels to lay out by the pool. "You should make the move, Yn."

"So you two are, like, dating now?" Asked Changmin as he hopped onto the tiki bar stool next to you and Chanhee. He kept on glancing down at his watch; he must have only a small break in between his dance classes today.

"They're 'seeing where things go,'" mocked Jacob with a shake of his head. He swirled a rag around the innards of a glass to dry it.

You sent them all dirty looks now. "Cobie, out of all the times you choose to be an imp—"

"An imp," Chanhee muttered, glancing away as he took a sip of his piña colada, "I'm dead."

"If it makes you feel better, Yn, I'm supervising a tennis match with him and the Lee cousins later today. I can get a feel of where his mind's at," Jacob offered.

You drummed your fingers against the bar. The offer was tempting… "It's fine," you insisted. "We don't have to rush things. We go to the same university and we live in the same city now. It's not like we don't have time… right?"

"Riiiight," Changmin drawled with an over exaggerated wink. He frowned at his watch, hopping off his stool. "Damn it, salsa class time. Catch you losers later!"

As he darted off into the distance, Chanhee sniffed. "Says the loser." He plucked the pink umbrella out of his drink and set the decoration down on his napkin. "You're not wrong, Yn-ie. Taking it slow isn't a bad thing. From what you told us, it seems like you're both on the same page now anyway."

"Thank you," you said.

"Maybe he's trying to plan a romantic moment." Haknyeon rejoined the conversation now that he had done his towel delivery.

Jacob nodded with an approving turn of his lips. "You might be onto something. He seems the type."

Your heart was fluttering as if it sprouted butterfly wings. Oh, the thought of kissing Eric Sohn in romantic lighting…

"I think you should take her back to her job before she drifts fully into La La Land." When you snapped back to reality, Jacob's eyes were twinkling, eyebrows wagging.

Haknyeon nudged you with the back of his hand and nodded up to the clubhouse. "C'mon, Yn-ie. I think Manager Kim wants to brief us on dinner service anyway."

Hours later, Jacob found himself on the tennis courts, overseeing a match between the three Lee cousins—Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Juyeon—and Eric. He often thought it was luck that got him to land this job where all he did to pass the day was make drinks, drive golf carts, and occasionally play doubles with club members. For all that it was, he considered himself very content.

"—that was a foul," Jacob declared, jogging to go catch the tennis ball before it bounded into the bushes.

Hyunjae let out a groan. "Nooo! It hit the line. Jacob, please, I thought we were cool!"

Sangyeon shook his head, smiling as he caught the tennis ball from Jacob with his free hand. "Hyunjae, we all know your eyesight is shit."

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. "Hey! No one asked."

"Can we take a break?" Juyeon asked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "I think I need some water."

The boys all murmured their agreement, and Jacob reached down into the mini cooler he'd lugged out to toss them ice cold bottles of water. It was just one of the few perks that came with the club membership.

While Sangyeon and Hyunjae were bickering about eyesight and foul lines, Juyeon settled into a seat by them to referee. Eric sidled up next to Jacob as they both absentmindedly watched the chaos unfold from afar.

Jacob whistled. "So… Yn said she had a really good time with you the other night."

Eric perked up at the sound of your name. "She did? Well that's a relief to hear."

"It wasn't clear?" Jacob asked, face tilted in question. "I mean, not to completely expose her or anything, but she's been gushing about you all day, man."

A giddy smile took over the youngest Sohn's face. "She was?" He licked his lips, drawing the pad of his thumb over the corner of his mouth to catch the water that had dribbled from the bottle. "She's—she's so cute, hyung. Like, I don't know if this is weird for you because you're friends—"

Jacob coughed in amusement. "It's fine. Think of me as your guardian angel."

"Right," Eric piped up. "I think… I think we really hit it off, y'know? And I mean, she probably told you we just kind of had dinner and she had to leave, but she'd come after work, so she was probably tired and—"

Ohhh. Jacob understood exactly what was going on now. His heart warmed at the thought that Eric was being so considerate and not forcing you to stay. He was thinking about your long day, and didn't wish to prolong it anymore. Little did he know, you probably wouldn't have minded hanging around a tad longer.

"—I wanted to kiss her—"

Wait huh. Jacob tuned back in. "When?"

Eric blinked. "Uhm, at dinner. Or at least, when I was walking her out to her car." He glanced away and his smile softened at the thought. "I wish I had, actually. The moment was right there, and the lighting was perfect, and her smile—oh my god, her smile."

Jacob's eyebrows flew up to his hairline. So this was where Eric's mind was at; good to know. "Then do it—kiss her."

"Right now?"

"No! Not right now—"

"Hey, you guys ready to play again?" Juyeon called. The three Lees had already maneuvered themselves back to court.

Eric and Jacob exchanged glances. This conversation wasn't over, Jacob's look seemed to say.

They nodded to their companions, though. "Yeah, we're ready."

It did not come as a surprise to you when you found out Eric had a home theater in his basement. It was something like you'd pictured from the movies, the ones with the rows of dark leather armchairs, deep cup holders, and a giant screen and surround sound system. The foot of the theater room even had a little snack station to make popcorn, and a mini fridge stocked with drinks.

You and Eric shared the couch on the bottom floor that was big enough for the two of you. It was a random Tuesday, and you didn't have work today, so he'd suggested swinging by and hanging out with him for the day. You couldn't possibly refuse.

Eric scrolled through the movie options on the screen with the remote. "Are you sure you don't want any popcorn?" He asked you.

You shook your head. "I'm good, really. But it sounds like you want popcorn, Eric."

He caught his tongue in his smile. "Maybe."

If you weren't supposed to be watching a movie, you would have gladly curled up on that couch and stared at him for the rest of time. His jawline was enough to make a girl go mad, and the fact that he was just so sweet, too—

"How about this one?"

You snapped out of it, barely flicking your gaze back over to the screen in time to avoid him finding out that you were just blatantly staring. "Uhh, sure. I haven't seen this one, actually."

"Really? Oh my god, we have to watch it then." And so you did.

It was about halfway into the movie that you realized there was a draft coming down on you—the air conditioning in this room was awfully high, but you didn't want to say anything. You hiked your legs up onto the couch and hugged your arms, leaning back slightly against the quilt draped over the back of the couch. (How conveniently placed…)

Eric saw your movement from the corner of his eye. "You cold? We can share the blanket."

"My hero," you joked as he removed the quilt from behind your heads and draped it over your laps.

Because the article wasn't exactly miles long, you and Eric had to shift over closer to each other. Not that you were complaining. The arm and leg pressed against yours were warm, and it gave him the perfect opportunity to raise his arm and place it over the back of the couch behind you.

As you both watched the rest of the movie, you gradually let yourself lean into him, and his arm eventually fell to rest directly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

"I always liked the ending of this movie," Eric murmured softly to you as the credits rolled. He brushed his fingers along your arm in a warm, soothing manner. "What'd you think?"

You stayed with your head tucked onto his shoulder. "Hmm, not bad. I think they could have cut the romance though."

"Ah, I see your point," he said. "Sometimes directors just like to force it for the sake of a subplot."

"Wholeheartedly agree."

His fingers danced up to your shoulder and began playing with your hair. He pursed his lips. "Are you a fan of romance movies? That's kind of a random question, I guess."

"Not really—a random question, I mean," you said, and pulled your head off of his shoulder to face him. The thought occurred to you of how close your bodies and your faces were, sharing warmth and skin. You saw his eyes dart down away from yours for a split second. "I like romance movies. I think they restore my faith in humanity," you mused. "You?"

"I like 'em, too." He released a small exhale, an almost-shy smile etching itself onto his face. "Most of them are just… feel-good movies. They're really sweet, and I've always kind of wanted something like that."

"High standards," you whispered, though playfully. "Wouldn't we all like something from the movies?" To you, this was what the movies were like—"handsome guy sweeps girl off her feet, and he's perfect and she's happy." You were already living out your too-good-to-be-true dreams.

He laughed. "True. I think it's just a matter of waiting for the right person to come along, maybe. And following through."

You bit the bait. "Following through?"

"Backing up your initial swing," he clarified. "Something to drive the ball home and make sure you mean it. I feel like maybe that's what people forget about romance—that there's still an after, beyond happily ever after."

Wow. "Your brain," you praised. "That was actual poetry, I think. Is this how you get girls?"

He bit his lip through a smile, leaning closer. "Only one girl. I hope it's working."

"I think it's working a little too well," you admitted, voice barely audible now.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan over your lips as he came closer, about ninety-percent of the way; the other ten percent was left for you to either push forward or pull back. He was giving you the decision on a gold platter.

And who could deny something served so beautifully?

You closed the gap between you and pressed your lips against his. It was soft, at first, as the nerves in your brain and your vital organs threatened to go haywire. You breathed him in, your noses slotting against each other. He cupped the back of your head with his free hand, the other curling around your waist.

When you broke apart, it was for a split second, until he was kissing you again. You were half in his lap at this point, your legs draped over his, your side pressed to his chest.

Foreheads pressed together, you shared a breath of air with him. He nuzzled his nose against you as if unable to be so far from you. "Be mine," he said, simple at first. Then, "Please."

You smiled against him and felt his mouth do the same. "Only if you'll be mine, too."

"As if I would say no," he laughed, leaning in again, and crushing his mouth to yours. The theater room filled with both of your giggles as you fell backward.

If this was the happily ever after, then you would gladly follow through.

a/n: to anyone who read flight risk, i just redeemed myself from valentine's day

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @kflixnet

One Morning at a Time

Warren Worthington III x Reader x Kurt Wagner

Fandom: X-Men

AU: Soulmate

Summary: While waiting for the soulmark that would change your life forever, you meet a wounded, winged mutant named Warren and a teleporter whose personality is sunshine incarnate, Kurt. You can’t help but catch feelings for them, even though you have no idea where or with whom your destiny truly lies.

Note: Reminder that I write poly stuff from time to time. I’ve been working on this fic on and off for months and it’s finally done. Now that I’m out of school (forever!(I graduated)) I’ll hopefully be a little more active! Anyway, I love these boys so, so much and I hope you do too. Tried to keep reader gender neutral, but let me know if I slipped up anywhere! Also reader’s birthday is in the summer in this (mine is personally in winter, so just pretend lol)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of surgery, language.

Word Count: 7.4k

Reader is: Gender Neutral! Also, a mutant.

It was about three months before your twenty-first birthday, and as everyone knew, that was approximately three months until your soulmark, the thing that would define the rest of your life as you knew it, would appear on your arm. Well, given that your soulmate wasn’t older than you, in which case, it could appear sooner.

You knew it was nothing to stress about, and you knew the universe would sort itself out, but that didn’t seem to stop you from worrying that you were the one person on this planet doomed to not have a mark. It was more of an absent thought, something that came and went, but something that bothered you nonetheless.

“Come on, (Y/N), it’ll be fun!” Jubilee urged, trying to get you to agree to come to the mall. “Get your mind off of things, you know?”

You thought about it for a moment. Honestly, you didn’t have that much homework…you could probably get it done whenever you all got back. You let out a sigh before finally relenting. “Alright, fine.”

In the school’s main entrance, Jean was waiting for you and Jubilee along with Scott, who had arrived a few days before, and a student you’d never met before. He was tall and blue with the most gorgeous amber eyes you’d ever seen. A spade tail swayed back and forth behind him, and when he saw the smile on your face at the sight of him, he smiled back with what had to be the most adorable smile in the world. Despite the dark colors he was sporting, the boy seemed to be sunlight incarnate.

Keep reading

I just got this idea for like- a YouTuber! reader x assaasin! Jungkook au where like, the reader runs a super soft channel. Mostly asmr and story times and makeup videos- but really a bit of everything! Jungkook whose life is so stresseful and bloody the one solice he has is when he returns to the safe house and can fall asleep with YouTube open on his laptop next to him with the sound of your voice lulling him to sleep. Talking about your day or anything really. He can listen to you talk for hours. Listens to you reassure him that it’s okay to be soft sometimes and that it Dosent make you weak or booring if you want a gentle life instead of one full of adrenaline.

He must have watched each of your videos at least once and fallen asleep to each of them countless times- something about the sound of your voice that makes him feel like everything is going to be okay. He leaves a comment on each one of your videos and the one time you respond with a heart emoji has him kicking his feet in happiness. He might be a heartless assasin but you make him feel fluttery.

But the job he’s on now isn’t a difficult one- sniper situation, top of a rooftops, rich cheating businessman with his head in Jungkook’s cross hairs. Imagine his surprise when somehow he spots you in the crowded street . In his career he’s done seven single sniper hits and he knows what happens after he pulls the trigger- the chaos and the panic- the trauma of it. And he can’t put you through that. Not the one person that soothes him.

Maybe Jungkook quits the assasin game, goes back to school- or maybe used the degree he’d never though he’d use in film, applies to be your assistant. To help you shoot and edit your videos. And maybe you think Jungkook is a little cagey and shy during the interview, but he’s also an adorably hard worker. He blushes every time you compliment his work.

Imagine your surprise one night when a burglar breaks into your home (not actually a burglar but someone connected to Jungkook’s old life) and the man tries to attack you but Jungkook breaks his neck in his bare hands- because no one touches you or gets to try to hurt you while Jungkook has a beating heart. He will fight to preserve your softness for as long as he breathes.

Luckily you have one of your cameras rolling so the police see the whole thing, and when they ask him how he did that he just lies and said it was video games. And maybe you view him a little differently after that but you know- something in you knows he’d never hurt you.

He saved you, if he hadn’t been there you could have had more than one horrible thing happen to you. You start to have nightmares, and more than a few nights- Jungkook stays over when you ask, because you feel safer with him there.

One night you wake up and find him slumped in your livingroom his headphones in and take a listen- finding its your voice he’s listening too. You snoop a little and find that yeah- he has a bunch of your audios saved as mp3 files. You ask him about it and you’ve never seen him get more flustered quicker, and he confesses that yes- he had been a fan of you for a long time before he started working for you and that he’d gotten use to falling asleep to the sound of your voice and had gotten to the point where he couldn’t sleep without it.

You don’t have a problem with it- you think it’s sweet. A few days later maybe you catch Jungkook downing black coffee like it’s water and ask him to lie down and nap while you get a script finished. And he’s shy as he fingers his headphones, and asks you to read it outloud for him. And when you’re done- you find Jungkook fully asleep, chest rising easily and even, cheek squished against the couch, maybe you reach over and touch his cheek gently. Your fingers tracing his lips.

Eventually he confesses to you his previous occupation and it Dosent make a difference how you feel about him. If anything it makes you admire him even more. Jeon Jungkook Dosent look like a killer at all- not with the way you’ve seen him play with puppies when did your episode of “I become a puppy mom for a day” or the way you’ve seen him fuss over you and if you’re eating healthy food (he’s a bit of a health nut) What kind of person would you be if you didn’t live up to your motto that you repeated at the end of every video “it’s never to late To let yourself enjoy the peaceful things in life”

Imagine you invite him on for an episode of “cotton candy and sweets mukbang” to eat and talk about the finer bits of video recording and then again for “my camera man and I try to follow a bob ross tutorial” and by the end of the two episodes all of your viewers are shipping both of you.

Imagine the naps become a daily thing because Jungkook often looks like he hasn’t slept a wink eventually shifting to him lying his head in your lap and you playing with his hair, to both of you falling asleep in the same bed.

Just like- Jungkook whose haunted by his assasin past, but wants to be a soft boy, but can’t stop looking around corners every day or casing the places he’s in, but the world goes quiet when he hears your voice and his favorite place to be is on the other side of a camera from you 🥺💕 or in your arms.

(Just a reminder not to use this idea as inspiration for your own story! As i May end up writing it in the future)