#but i enjoy this slow burn character study | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heegyukeluv · 4 months ago

Text

a hundred sunsets (sjy)

pairing: jake x afab!reader

synopsis: Using a dating app in order to find a lover rarely worked properly to you, which was the reason you never planned to do so. But bumping into someone so charming as you texted your possible future love interest wasn’t on your plans either.

my's note: hello!!! it's not only my first time writing in english but also my first time using tumblr to post a story i’m honestly kinda nervoussjdjdjs. a few things I want to say before anything: those are fictional characters, also i know almost nothing when it comes to other country’s educational systems sooo i’m sorry if something is off, and mostly important: enjoy!!!

i wasn't planning to write this much but i think i got a little carried away lol

warnings: quick mention of alcohol (all characters are of age!), slow burn kinda?, at least one ‘kms’ joke srry, strangers to friends to lovers, pet names (sweetheart, pretty, sugar, etc..), lot of language, jake is downnn baddd, there’s a slightly jay x y/n moment (they go on a date lol) but not too much dw!!!, reader blushing/turning red! eventual smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) - jake is kinda a sub, oral sex (both), unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), j. cums inside (consensual), overstimulation (m), slight dacryphilia. enha’s jay, sunghoon and heeseung + lesserafim’s yunjin and chaewon as side characters. LMK IF I FORGOT SOMETHING.

wc: 22k

NOT PROOFREAD.

EXTRA (epilogue kinda?)

As comfortable as your couch was and even though you very much loved watching “Pitch Perfect”, that wasn't the fun weekend you had planned, actually you didn't plan anything at all. But there you were, licking your fingertips in order to clean up the salt flakes of the chips you devoured during the last minutes.

It wasn't like you really cared about what your lifestyle was turning into during the few months that passed by, opting to stay at home doing your little things here and there, taking a fair break from the crazy parties at suspicious places alongside a lame try to hang out with very random people...

The initial excuse of "I'll focus more on my studies" was holding a bit, however you couldn't help but feel bored at your choices at this point.

You sighed, opening the message app on your phone and re-reading the last texts you received in your friend group.

Jinnie 💘: my sweet little y/n i’ve been here watching you ROT down in your apartment and i’m tired!!! sure you don’t wanna party anymore or wtv BUT FOR GOD’S SAKE i love you but truth be said YOU NEED TO GET LAID!!!! download the app pleeeeasseeee it’s not like you’re gonna match with a weirdo (i guess Chaebae 💖: Worst case scenario you just call me and I go to rescue you with my very muscly arms Best case scenario you win a good fuck !

You laughed again at the texts, picturing Chaewon with her baby face and a very packed body. Would she be able to really punch someone on the face in order to protect you? For sure she would. And she didn't even need muscly arms or whatever.

Being friends for God knows how long you thought about trusting them. They wouldn’t try to mislead you, right?

You always had little to no interest in dating apps. The few times you tried you constantly felt like you were practically selling yourself as some product with specific traits, where the buyer doesn't have enough chance to get to know more parts of you before anything, chasing for the next step so eagerly.

Although your heart beats fast for people you just met seemingly outwardly interesting, the real feeling of wanting to be with them, to go out on dates, to trust enough to let parts of yourself to be shown comfortably needs time and usually grows slowly.

You never really dated anyone in order to fulfill momentary desires, your own body wouldn't let it happen as you lose interest as soon as you feel too pressured by the other part or when the connection wasn’t clicking right.

Chaewon and Yunjin were different though. They had the free spirit to just hit that one night stand and be happy about it. You were happy about it, loving to listen to their crazy dates and nights out, sharing the most terrific stories about it while drinking some wine on your balcony.

Nevertheless, you were kinda desperate. Your last relationship ended one year ago, the one you rooted for a very long time – two years and five months, to be exact, until one day you caught him cheating on you with one of his "best friends that you don’t have to worry, baby". Very much cliché but also a big trauma in your life, leading you to this very moment of neediness but not enough courage to trust someone again.

Since then you have been hooking up once and a while with random people you met at parties, but never felt right or enough especially because you tried so hard to either not get attached – and with that lose the brief sexual interest – or on the very other side of the hand, to build up some kind of relationship.

Every single one turning into a big failure.

Sighing again, your fingers typed on the screen keyboard.

You: Can you send me the name again? Chaebae 💖: OH??? YUNJIN Jinnie 💘: I KNOW [LFS] hope you enjoy!! hihi You: What's with the acronym lol Chaebae 💖: "Love at First Sight" You: Oh god And you rly think it’s a good idea? Chaebae 💖: ..yeah? Jinnie 💘: a great idea actually! You chuckled. What could go wrong?

Everything went wrong.

Not every single thing, but a bunch for sure.

You didn’t know if your taste was too specific or if overall men were just that boring. You had good features, your pics weren’t that bad either and your personality… Liking video games, some astronomical stuff, movies and dogs couldn’t be a big red flag, right?

But every match got you thinking “what happened to the old ‘hi, how are you?’”. Maybe because of those exact traits you put on display made the weird nerds attracted to you as a potential match, thinking their fantasies would be fulfilled by you.

Of course you understand people on those kinds of apps sometimes have very clear goals setted, but how frustrating is it to try to have a good conversation and the least creepy answer be “is it weird that i want you sucking me while i play league of legends? lmao”?

No matter how defeated you were feeling you weren’t one to give up. And that leads to this very moment as you type fast on your phone with your current attempt.

Park Jongseong, or just Jay, was hot. Like, very hot. And his talking wasn’t going to weird places so far, which at this point was a big win. He was funny and somewhat endearing, sharing avidaly about his travels and his music interests with so much passion that you started to rethink your own life choices thus far – was the ongoing college degree a good choice? Should you give up everything and start to live as an artist?

Lost in your train of thoughts about maybe having found somebody worthy of your time as you walked down the hallway heading to your next lecture of the day, you didn’t expect to hit your face straight into someone’s chest. A very strong and hard chest by the way, you thought briefly, scented with some woody essence that got straight into your senses. The sweet voice of the owner wasn’t expected either.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!”, the boy uttered with a worried tone looking down at you trying to see if he had hurt you in some way. You almost didn’t catch his thick accent. “Are you okay?” he questioned softly, still concerned. You blinked a few times before coming back to reality, looking up confused at his face and answering hurriedly with slightly widened eyes.

“I’m the one who should be sorry! God, I’m so stupid, I should be more careful,” you started to blather as you lost yourself in that pretty face you just hit into. The whole combo was breathtaking. Plump glossy red lips and puppy eyes full of worry; the silky brown hair was just as normal as any other brown hair but what the fuck was that face? “I was looking down at my phone and I didn’t see y–”, you were interrupted by the honeyed voice again “I mean, I was also using my phone and didn’t see you either,” he chuckled. “You’re fine, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened even more at the same time as a smirk decorated his beautiful lips. You don’t know what got you more flustered, the pet name or the double meaning of that simple phrase. You could feel your cheeks burning hard and your first instinct was to look down to the floor and wonder if hiding yourself beneath the tile was a good option.

“Well, sorry again,” he said and you forced yourself to swallow down the saliva that got stuck on your throat and to look up again, facing now a cute small and shy smile that made your heart beat fast. Too fast. “See ya!” and just like that he went his own way, not even waiting for your response.

You were sure someone had glued the sole of your shoes on the ground while you two had that small and awkward talk, because there’s no way your legs stopped working properly just because of him.

You looked over your shoulder in order to see his back going away but it was already too late, since he wasn’t around anymore. You thought to yourself he was certainly a new student, because you would have noticed him sooner. How could you not?

His chocolate eyes and sweet voice were the only things on your mind as you picked up your phone to text back Jay, trembling a bit from the encounter still.

You: of course we can see each other this friday!! :)

You tried your best to fully focus on your upcoming assignments, but your library time has reduced quite a bit and even in your house your attention was wandering constantly. For the last three days you walked around your whole campus trying so hard to bump into that good-looking visage one more time, going back and forth that hallway hoping to see that guy.

Describing his appearance to Chaewon and Yunjin didn’t help a bit, especially because everything you could remember was his sweet voice, his silky brown hair and his very beautiful smile. Just like any other guy.

But he wasn’t.

He looked smooth, confident and whatever other compliment you could build to him – like, you never really met him to know more than just the appearance, and his looks exuded that so you just guessed. The fucking “sweetheart” coming from his mouth sounded too good for your own heart. And that was everything you got from him. Not even a glimpse of something else like what classes he got or anything like that.

“I don’t know, I’m starting to worry you are seeing ghosts or making people up, girl”, Yunjin said as her hands unwrapped her sandwich right before she took a big bite.

“I’m not!” you whined with a pout. “I swear to god he exists. I need him to exist. He’s too fine,” you whispered the last part, even though they both heard you.

“This is definitely something someone who is starting to see things would say, y’know that, right?” Chaewon said with a laugh, making you chuckle a bit because, well, it’s true. How does one prove a person exists given that no one but you saw him?

The campus was big enough for you not to see him ever again, however after the quick encounter you noticed he walked towards the end of the hallway, to classes that only someone with an area of study similar to yours would go to.

“This is frustrating,” you stated, looking at the people wandering around still hoping to see him. Your lunch already forgotten in front of you.

“Don’t you have a date in like a few hours?” Chaewon questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Shouldn’t we be worrying about you and that hot Jay guy instead of you and the we-don’t-even-know-if-he-exists guy?”

“She’s right, baby,” Yunjin added. “Jay looks adorable. You should focus on him.”

You nodded defeated, sighing and forcing yourself to re-read your texts with the said guy. “You’re right”, you smiled a bit.

Jay: Looking forward to our date tonight! <3

You: yeah, me too :)

And just like that the afternoon has arrived and you got yourself in a dilemma of clothing and accessories and shoes and makeup and even between your perfumes! Everything seemed terrible together, nothing was right, no cloth piece looked good enough to match Jay’s insane visuals and taste in style. Through his photos you noticed the way he fashioned himself, wearing fancy brands with a generous constancy, looking too good for yourself.

You were on the verge of crying when Yunjin called you, as if she felt in her guts you needed her.

“Hey,” you answered the call, quickly accepting the change to a video call and propping your phone on your desk. “How we doin’, baby?” She asked curiously with a big excited smile. “Why aren’t you ready yet?” You noticed she had makeup on and was doing her hair while talking to you.

“Not doing well, Jinnie…” you pouted, looking at the mess around you. You were dealing with a lot of emotions at the same time and felt so lost. “I don’t know what to wear,” you said sincerely. “I feel like nothing I have here is enough to match Jay’s.”

In your defense, it’s been a long time since you ever went on a date, especially a dinner date and with someone so elegant like Jay.

You weren’t expecting Yunjin almost screaming at you. “Don’t you dare to say anything like that ever again!” You startled. “Y/N, you will look good in any clothing you decide to wear, because you are hot. Not your clothes or accessories or anything. They just complement your own beauty!”

While Chaewon normally was the one who would speak up for the whole group in terms of defending her girls, Yunjin worked on the other part of bringing the mood and the self esteem up. And both of them always did a great job.

“You are so fucking right, Yunjin,” she smiled proudly after you spoke, continuing her job on doing her hair.

You looked around one more time, getting out of the frame just to change yourself in a simple black dress long enough to cover half of your tights and the exact amount of tightness that hugged your curves with close perfection. “Thoughts?” You appeared again in front of the camera after a few minutes of trying some accessories.

“Sexy. And pretty. You are so getting laid tonight!” You chuckled. “I think I’m not the only one, though?” You wiggled your eyebrows playfully and she just giggled, before saying a quick goodbye and ending the call.

Just like you, she had things to get done.

Putting on some lip gloss as a final touch, you were ready. And just in time as you felt your phone vibrating inside your purse with Jay's text.

Jay: I’m here :) You: Coming!

The big car greeting the door of your building was expected at some point, nonetheless your shocking expression was hardly disguised with a nervous smile. As Jay stepped out of his car, you quickly analyzed his outfit and had to take a breath because his white button up shirt with the sophisticated black trousers was getting yourself out of orbit. You felt a little dizzy when his hand positioned on your waist as he leaned to greet you with a little kiss on the cheek and a pretty smile.

He opened the door for you and when you both had settled down on the car seat, he said “You look great, Y/N”. With his help, you put on the seatbelt and thanked with a kind smile. "You look good yourself too, Jay."

The drive to the restaurant was quite normal, a few words being exchanged here and there, the conversation was pretty ordinary. You were a pile of nerves and you had to almost physically stop yourself from moving your legs up and down due to the feeling of anxiety. It’s not like Jay was making you uncomfortable, but you didn’t felt too comfortable either. The whole fancy type of thing was getting you too hesitant for a first date. You were more like a cafe date girly, stargazing at some open air park or maybe a picnic. Now you were blaming yourself for not letting that out beforehand.

Jay parked the car at the parking lot. “We’re here”, his voice broke you out of your mind and when you glanced up at the restaurant you felt like dying inside.

Too fancy.

“It’s… amazing,” was everything that slipped out your mouth as you got out of the car with Jay’s help. “I’m glad you liked it, princess.”

The pet name didn’t get you the much you hoped it would, actually it made you think about the fucking hallway guy and his smooth “sweetheart” saying, sending shivers down your spine.

When both of you reached the table reserved under the name Park Jongseong and you looked through the menu, you knew you were fucked up. With no shame, though, you asked “Could you order for me? I know little to no ingredients on this paper.”

Jay let a small breathy laugh and nodded ordering for both of you. He picked a wine impressively saying the name and the year and whatever other things wines have in its description trying to impress you. However, your focus was on the view that you finally noticed on your right side that faced a big window. The night sky was impressive and the moon was shining prettily.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked after sipping a bit of his wine. “Yeah, it’s incredible. I love the moon, actually I–” you didn’t had the chance to even start on your probably long talk about how much interested you are in the moon, being cutted of by Jay.

“Did you know that once I almost had the chance to go to the moon?” Your head snapped so fast towards his direction that you thought you would break your neck. “What?” The discredited and doubtful expression adorning your face was so clear still you were not afraid of showing it off.

With that, you discovered a not so good part of Jay: his somewhat annoying and exaggerated personality of trying to impress you with exorbitant things, too different from the texts you guys had exchanged. You had no interest knowing that his first birthday present was diamonds or that his dad bought him a car even before he turned eighteen. Let alone that he traveled to every single place you said during the conversation.

The way he would blurt out interrupting you in order to say "It's so amazing there! You would love the beaches and the museums, and the..." so it goes, every single time was really angering you.

Feeling left out in a duo talk was a new experience to you. How could someone be so full of himself and act like his life is the only one that matters? His gentlemanly aura was falling down very fast.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying our date,” he pointed with elegance when you went full quiet, looking directly at you. You sipped a bit of the wine that actually tasted too bad for your palate, noticing how half of your food was left out on your plate. You forced yourself to eat as much as you could handle, but the aftertaste of that food was worse than the taste itself.

“Oh, now you noticed me,” you artificially smiled.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, a bit offended. You got nervous, but didn’t let that get on you. “I mean that for the past two hours all you talk about is yourself. At first I was like ‘okay, this is how we know each other!’, but since then I haven’t had the chance to talk about anything related to myself, like my likings or whatever,” you vented, having to take a deep breath and drink some more wine afterwards.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t get it,” Jay seemed honestly confused.

“Are you stupid?” the question slipped your tongue a bit too fast for your own thinking. You widened your eyes and covered your mouth with your hand. “I’m sorry I–”

“I don’t think I’m stupid, but I really don’t get it. It’s my first date in a while and I don’t really remember having to listen to the girls at all…”

Squinting, you questioned genuinely, “What do you mean? Like, the girls you took out on dates just… listened to you bragging about diamonds and travels?” He kinda mimicked your expression and replied as if it was obvious “...Yeah…”

After you blinked a few times you recomposed yourself and drank the whole wine on your glass at one go wishing you could just get drunk enough to forget that night. Jay watched you with a fazed expression as you got up from your chair. “I’m sure you’ll find someone that likes you the way you are. But with all due respect, to me, you kinda… Y’know. So I’m leaving.” You pointed with your thumb to your back, not even knowing if the exit was that way. “It was… an experience, I think.” You forced a smile. “Do I have to pay for something?”

“No, don’t worry about that,” he was quick in his response, feeling a bit ashamed and soon adding “But I can get you home, you just have to wait for me to p–”

“Nah, I’m fine. I’ll call a cab or whatever,” you interrupted him as soon as you could, not wanting to spend any more second with him. Being in a closed space with him for more than a few seconds would be too embarrassing.

“Y/N, come on. It’s the least I can do for you. You don’t have to walk alone at night, it can be dangerous.” You sighed, tapping his shoulder softly when you got closer to him. “Jay, it’s fine. It was not meant to be,” you tried to sound certain but what left your mouth was a mix of sneering with a doubtful tone. When he said nothing more, you left.

You were free. And also hungry. And a bit tipsy.

Maybe it was not the best idea to walk alone at that time of the night, but somehow you managed to feel better outside than with Jay. He was great, but definitely not for you.

You questioned yourself if calling Yunjin or Chaewon or maybe both could be a good idea, but knowing them they would show up in no time and try to beat the crap out of Jay and you weren’t in the mood to witness a murder. Actually all you needed was food. And maybe a cozy place. Nevertheless you typed on your phone just to update your girls.

You: Date went down the hole Guy’s kinda suck ngl Chaebae 💖: WDYM ARE YOU OKAY DO YOU NEED ME TO GET THAT BASTARD OR WHAT WHAT DID HE DO WHERE ARE YOU Jinnie 💘: i’m very much drunk rn but tell me his address and i'll kick his ass and get you home or are you home already?

You laughed at the quick replies you received and typed some reassurance to them while continuing your walking process. Your goal at that point was to find a convenience store where you could get some lamen and perhaps a soda.

While you wrote down your last message walking slowly not to trip, you bumped into someone, face straight to their chest.

Firm and cunning hands held you by the waist since you lost balance because of your heels, preventing you from falling. Before you could even say anything, that fucking woody essence went directly through your senses and it was as if history was reescribing itself, like a gift from fate. This time, you were fully in his arms.

You looked up. “I’m so– Oh, you again?” He showed his charming smile. Because of the proximity you noticed how the corner of his lips were a bit curvy. So attractive and for what?

Just like the last time, you blinked twice before realizing what really was happening, feet fixed on the ground. “I’m starting to consider that you like bumping into my chest, sweetheart,” he said with a grin, his mentoled breath hitting straight on your face.

Thank god his hands still held your waist, otherwise you would definitely fall. Your baffled expression had him chuckling a bit. “Did I hurt you?” he asked with care, looking directly at your eyes. His pretty chocolate eyes were hidden behind black specs this time.

You kept gazing stupidly at him like he was a distinct specie, an alien or something, not being able to say a word. Your throat was dry, you were sure you had lost the ability of talking. “Have you forgotten how to talk, pretty one?” He sniggered and bold but gently placed a strand of your hair behind your ear with his free hand. You shivered and almost leaned into the touch. “I remember you having such an endearing voice,” and just like that you finally let your body respond and blushed, taking a deep breath while starting to move away from him “I’m sorry, I didn’t see yo–”

“Cut that off, sweetheart," he let you go, making sure you were stable on your feet. You missed the warmth of his body on yours right away. Also you took your time to appreciate his clothing. The deep red shirt with white stripes covered with a black jacket looked too good on him. "I’m worried our encounters will keep happening like this. You might end up getting hurt for real,” the concerned tone did not go unnoticed, even mixed with the teasing-flirtatious one.

Your eyes wandered his face quickly before you let out a chuckle and diverted your attention away. You decided to ignore the buzzing sound of your phone as you put it inside your purse. “That wouldn’t be fun, would it?”, you said.

“Definitely not,” you looked back at him, caughting the shining eyes staring at you already like all he had down his sight was you. “A beautiful face like yours cannot be hurt, am I right?” And again there was that too attractive sly smile adorning his lips. You decided to smile back but shyly yet unable to hold the visual contact for more than a few seconds, cheeks still reddened.

“I don’t know you enough to say that but you seem a bit… off”, he was now looking at you with his gleaming puppy eyes, head slightly tilted to the side. “Yeah, I might be a little bit tipsy.”

Normally you would be mad at the fact the small amount of wine was hitting that hard, blaming your weakness towards alcohol for making you feel kinda dizzy and too bold for your own good – you internally debated if that dizzines came from the alcohol or from other sources, like the very good looking man standing in front of you.

Still you thanked the fearless feeling running through your veins at that very moment, otherwise where would you find enough courage to say what you said next?

“Are you down to get some lamen at some random convenience store with me?”, you had no idea what your words could mean to him and honestly weren’t expecting much, but as soon as his face lit up like you told him he won a good amount of money, you felt victorious. “Is this your way of flirting? Because if it is, it’s working on me.”

“That’s good to know, nameless boy”, you scoffed with a seductively undertone, the little smirk on your lips and your now boldness to maintain eye contact making him laugh as a failed attempt to hide his flustered self. The next moment you both were greeting each other with a quick handshake after he offered his hand to you. “I’m Jake”.

The hallway boy finally got a name, and not only that, you were now sure of his existence.

Sitting on a bench at the little shop you managed to find, the angry owner’s expression facing you two was as clear as crystal water and got you thinking if you were being too loud. Without caring much you just let it be, since being with Jake apparently meant you will be noisy eventually. It was not necessarily his fault, the both of you just shared too many common interests that made it difficult not to get overly excited during the conversation.

It all began with just a normal “no way you like this flavor!” – with a very strong Australian accent from his side – and since then the flow went smoothly. His company had been greatly enjoyable so far and you let yourself be more and more comfortable about sharing some self information.

For example at some point you discovered he was a physics student, and with that you instantly shared about your love for the moon – also the lack of acknowledgement about it. You explained that you were affectionate to the moon because of its beauty, shining brightly in the sky even when behind heavy clouds. Looking at it always made you feel somehow free, especially when some breeze hits your body simultaneously.

Jake carefully listened to you with fond eyes and after you finished, he started to explain a bit of theory to you, sounding too smart. He looked very attractive saying words you didn’t even know the meaning behind and you noticed you were paying way too much attention to the way his charming lips were moving as he did so.

And just like that you traveled around many subjects. You being more emotional and Jake more rational, respectfully giving each other the chance to speak, constantly but easily finding ways to match one’s energy. You finally felt heard that night. And one of the topics being, of course, the whole date situation.

“Ok, so what you’re telling me is that this Jay guy told you about his whole financial status, which I admit makes me kinda envious, and you still managed to end up here with me at some very random convenience store eating cheap lamen?”, he shook off the empty package of said lamen, staring at you with an amusement look.

“Yep,” you nodded, slurping the last bite of your food. “And also I called him stupid.”

“At his face,” he completed the very important piece of information, finishing his food as well. Jake licking his lips to clean it up didn’t go unnoticed by you. “I swear if I was Jay I would be crying right now,” he stated as a fact and you groaned.

“Don’t make me feel bad for him, please,” you uttered with a whine and he laughed at you, his eyes turning into little crescents as he did so. “I swear he was nice and prolly had good intentions, but y’know…” you left unfinished, but Jake concluded for you. “He bragged about diamonds hoping you would fall for him or something.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head before drinking the last sip of your soda, “yeah, definitely not my type.”

Jake decided to restrain the urge of asking what your type would be, a little afraid he was off league. “Well, at least you got on a date with me,” he sneered. You chuckled.

“I knew I would hit my pretty face directly on your so toned chest when I walked out that date,” you said sarcastically and then added “that’s why I decided to go in the first place.”

You were feeling way better now, belly full of good food that really pleased your taste buds and not drunk anymore, although you still let the boldness command your words through the talking once and while. You found out that behind Jake’s flirtatious and teasing way of speaking to you, there was also a very sheepish boy that would get flustered from time to time, like right now. He laughed off and drank the rest of his soda in order to run away from your very sharp but playful eyes.

Jake was so entertained by you. The way you expressed yourself so cheerfully and vibrantly. Whenever some topic of your liking was on the track your eyes would instantly get an almost childish sparkle as your hands motioned in a very exciting way and your detailed explanations would be voiced out.

Also he discovered you were a lot more confident than he thought you could be. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t liking this side of yours, audaciously flirting with him whenever you got the chance to do so, without holding back your bold responses. The feeling of the top of his ears burning knowing they were very much red was starting to become common for him. He did not had to know that you not only noticed his reactions, but was loving every minute.

Despite that, he tried to keep his cool.

“What are you up to after here, sugar?”, Jake asked forcing a nonchalantly tone while playing with the rings adorning his fingers, and yet again you were forced to remember the fucking cute pet names that got you flushed everytime he dared to say them. You looked away for a bit before answering.

“I don’t know, maybe go home… Watch some videos until I fall asleep”, you shrugged. Early on that day you weren’t expecting to find yourself in a situation like that, actually the whole program was to get “dicked down” – as Chaewon worded. However, you weren't disappointed either with how the evening turned out to be.

“Come on, Y/N,” your name went out too smoothly on Jake’s plumpy lips, his honeyed voice never failing to make you flutter slightly. Still you tried to keep your composure. “It’s friday and you’re wearing such a beautiful dress to what? To go home, watch videos and sleep?” He mocked the last part and you chuckled before lazily smiling in his direction, fully facing him. You recognized the tiredness starting to consume your body slowly which did not go unnoticed by Jake. Your tinted cheeks from the compliment also did not go unnoticed by him.

“And what would you recommend me to do, Jakey?”

“Jakey?” He raised an eyebrow, liking the way you pronounced the nickname a bit too much, thinking it was definitely something he could grow used to.

You just kept smiling, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You perceived how close on the seat you both were as if a magnet pulled you two together through that night, your bare shoulder slightly brushing against his clothed one from time to time.

“To be honest I just wanted an excuse to point out how gorgeous you are in this dress,” he licked his bottom lip as a habit while you didn’t even have the chance to properly receive the compliment, Jake being too smooth with it. “I don’t have any good recommendations, but if you’re down we c–”

The sound of your phone ringing interrupted Jake’s possible plans, making both of you startle. You saw Yunjin’s name on the screen and wondered whether to answer or not.

“Aren’t you gonna pick up?” Jake asked with curiosity.

“Actually, yes I will,” you remembered you left your friends hanging on your texts and have been unintentionally ignoring them, so it was only fair to give a quick update just to make them sure you are still alive.

“Hi baby”, you picked up the call with a smile, hearing a very drunk Yunjin on the other side. “No, I’m not home yet”, Jake watched as you talked on your phone with a neutral expression. He himself feeling a bit worried with the usage of nicknames and with your cute tone towards the person.

He knew you just went out on a date, assuming that you were at least looking to have some fun, however that fact should not be enough to stop you from being unavailable. Jake thought that a pretty girl like you probably already had a love interest in line.

“Don’t worry, Jinnie. You don’t have to come pick me up”, you glanced over at Jake who was now paying too much attention to the table in front of him, lost in his own mind and also trying to give you some privacy. You grinned, “I’m not alone.” Jake accidentally heard a very loud “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT ALONE?” through your phone and had to hold back a laugh. “I’m with… Someone,” you kept your eyes on him as you spoke to Yunjin, grabbing his attention when you indirectly mentioned his presence. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” and then you ended the call with a “Love you, bye.”

“I didn’t mean to hear it, but I’m intrigued…” you knew where Jake was going with that, so you just kept your smile. “‘Someone’, huh?” He said with a smirk, clearly messing with you.

You turned your head to someplace else because no matter how bold you can be sometimes, the following line that you let out made you hesitate a bit beforehand.

“Well, in my defense I don’t plan to introduce you to my friends through my phone, let alone as a mere guy I just met,” although you tried to keep your cheekily tone, it was obvious how shy you were feeling, gazing briefly at Jake’s direction as you said.

Jake hadn’t noticed until now that he was holding his breath a little, relievedly letting it out as he watched your pretty face and expressions. Regardless, the whole phrase made his head spin, replacing previous thoughts with new, more intense ones, all at once. What do you mean by that?

“Then how are you planning to introduce me?” he boldly questioned leaning towards you a little in order to find a way to look you in the eye again, finding adorable your demeanor right now breaking every little eye contact way too quickly.

You giggled.

Jake thought he had just found his favorite sound in the world.

“We’ll see, Jakey.”

Jake rode you home.

He noticed how lazy your hooded eyes started to look and decided to end the “date” instead of taking you to somewhere else, which you particularly found endearing. The bar was low, you admitted to yourself, but a cute guy being considerate for your entertainment other than just leading you anywhere else for his own amusement made your heart flutter.

However, the moment he offered to take you home you immediately refused, emphasizing that he didn't need to worry and that you would not let him waste gas for nothing. The reply he gave was a not so subtle “I don’t care”, alongside with “I’ll not let you freeze outside waiting for a cab and I don’t trust you enough to let you borrow my jacket for tonight,” making you laugh at his little mischievous tone, especially because as soon as you both were in his car he put his black jacket on your shoulders.

“I thought you don’t trust me enough to have it?” You referred to the jacket, feeling too inebriated by its smell.

“There's a big difference between leaving it to you alone without knowing if you'll ever hand me back and letting you have it under my watch, sweetheart.” His smug face looked too charming as he spoke and the damn sweetheart again got to you with ease. You chuckled while watching the street lights passing by.

The ride was calmer than you expected. The radio played on some random station working as a beautiful background to the soft words exchanged between you two. You noticed Jake’s attractive side profile as he focused on the road rambling some physics thing in a very excited way. Your body felt too tired to keep any thoughts on track, leading you to just listen to his sweet voice embracing you mildly until you both arrived in front of your apartment building.

Of course he didn’t let you open the door and also helped you to get out. The touch of his warm hand under yours sended a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you for the ride, Jake,” you said with a gentle smile.

“My pleasure, sugar,” your cheeks reddened hard as you started to take off his jacket. “You don’t have to,” he shook his hand in front of him, refusing to get the clothing piece back. You looked at him with a stunned-confused expression, lips parted a bit. Before you could even protest he interrupted you. “I need an excuse to see you again, right?” And send you a wink.

As if he said just a normal thing, he confidently got back to his car, letting behind a very flustered you.

Little did you know how shaky his hands rested on the wheel as he drove off, looking forward to meeting you again.

Of course you had to spend your whole weekend waiting for Monday to come – a peculiar behavior you admitted to yourself. But neither you nor Jake got each other's phone number so all you could do was to wait and hope for the best. You didn’t even know if you would meet him again at the campus because you searched for him nonstop the last few days and never got the chance to do so, making you regret even more about not getting any information about where to find him.

His jacket rested on your desk chair as you deeply stared at the little stars adorning your bedroom ceiling. Stars that remembered how shiny Jake’s eyes looked when he started to talk about Theory of relativity or anything like that. You also remember paying just enough attention to understand and to keep the talking flow, focusing more on the way his lips moved as doing so.

You groaned, rolling on your bed sheets. How long a weekend can be? You were acting like a teenager for having a crush on a stranger! You knew little to no things about Jake. You knew his age – one year older than you, you knew his majoring and you also found out the reason behind him being at your campus block – he had to deliver some paperwork to a friend of his. But other than some common interests and his music taste, that was it.

Was him a good person? He showed you a good personality for sure, to the point your heart sank with the idea of losing all that excitement to see him again just because he’s good looking and has a great talk. Still you kept questioning yourself. What if he was the player type? Just hitting for one night stand and that’s it?

Monday morning arrived but you did not had enough time to develop any more thoughts when you got to the university. As soon as you reached it, Chaewon and Yunjin flooded you with a very long investigation about what the hell happened that friday.

Talking in person was always an option for the three of you, the feeling of looking eye to eye and reading each other's expressions was more interesting than having to guess it over a phone or video call. Normally you three would pick a place to go and have a little "friends date" and talk about the stuff that happened for hours. However this time you choose to use the excuse you were busy studying, having too many assignments left behind which neither of them bought it from you.

“So Jay sucks?” Chaewon asked. “I don’t like putting it like that,” you murmured. “But yeah, we just didn’t hit it off, y’know?” You just shrugged.

You three were walking towards the class you shared that morning, not caring much about being a little late.

“Baby, you’re too nice,” Yunjin hugged you sideways and smiled at you. “You can say a man is stupid.”

“Actually I did,” you smiled mischievously and they both looked at you with shocked expressions. “Not my proudest moment, but I said it to his face. Unintentionally, I swear!”

Chaewon and Yunjin broke down the shocked expressions to laugh out loud with the idea of you calling your failed date a stupid right to his face.

“And what’s with the jacket?” Yunjin questioned when you stopped to grab your things from your locker.

She knew every clothing piece you had as if it was hers because of your constant need for help in terms of putting together what you like, and even though the jacket looked good on you, definitely wasn't part of your wardrobe.

“It’s Jake’s, I’m planning to send it back to him today.”

They already knew about Jake, but not too much. You shared a little through texts not wanting to fill too much of their expectations. Knowing your two best friends, they would go crazy if you detailed your night out.

They both exchanged glances before Chaewon spoke “If he really exists.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, picking up all you needed from your locker before answering. “He does. And he’s… pretty nice.” You tried your best not to sound too whipped at that time, especially because you were still worrying if he would be loyal to his words or if the whole talk about meeting you again was just a big bluff.

But apparently one thing about Jake it’s that he can counter you with ease. As if you summoned his presence, the honeyed voice that you didn’t realize until now you missed hearing, said from behind you.

“Hey, pretty one.” your head snapped to the direction faster than you would like to admit, meeting the beautiful plump lips turned into a little smile. He looked you up and down, checking on you. “I don’t think I’ll need the jacket back. You look better on it anyway.” His eyes were locked at you, and only you. You had to remind yourself to breathe, because, God Jake was so hot.

That day he opted to wear just a normal white shirt with dark jeans and black shoes. At first he thought about really getting his jacket back, because you didn’t know that but that jacket was his favorite. But as soon as he put his eyes on you and noticed how cute you looked with his clothing piece seeming too big like an oversized one, he gave up.

“H-hi,” you damned yourself for stuttering, being fully aware that your friends looked as astonished as you at that moment, but for different reasons. You started to get the jacket off your body by saying “Of course I have to give it bac–”, he shushed you with his index finger before you could finish and your eyes widened, making you stop all your movements.

“Don’t worry, I meant it when I say you look good on it,” you gulped as you nodded speechless. “Here,” he handed you a little paper and your shaky hands took it, you saw numbers written. “It’s my number, you can text me whenever, yeah?” He licked his lips suddenly feeling nervous.

Apparently being around you was an easy break of his flirtatious self. However, he forced himself on this one and said “I gotta go now, I’m kinda late,” he ruffled your hair gently before leaning close to whispering on your left ear, lips lightly touching your skin “See you around, sugar.”

You immediately choked on your own saliva, your cheeks burning like hell, fully unable to say a word. “And bye to you both as well!” Jake referred to the girls as he started to run down the corridor to his own campus building.

“Bye!” both Yunjin and Chaewon said in unison. You had to blink twice before realizing what just happened. “Girl!!!” Yunjin screamed and you noticed Chaewon covering her mouth as well. “What the fuck?!?!”

“I–” you tried saying anything but you couldn’t, not only because of your own brain turning into mush, but because your friends were way too hyped and interrupted you.

“The way he looked at you?”

“THE PET NAMES!!!”

“‘Pretty one’!? He so down bad, what the actual fuck?”

“And he’s cute as hell!!!”

You were overwhelmed with all of that, walking just because the two girls were forcing you to move forward while keeping squealing about Jake's actions.

“I know that nose can do wonders,” Yunjin said cheekily as soon as you sat in your class seats and you immediately turned to look at her with a terrified expression.

“Huh Yunjin!!!”, you smacked her shoulder with wide eyes and she just laughed together with Chaewon.

As your ordinary Monday normally would go, you were now sitting under a tree reading the latest book your teacher assigned for an assignment. You always loved to take a break from the library and to literally touch some grass, using your free time to catch up with all the paperwork you needed.

A shadow approached you, blocking the sunlight and catching your attention. You didn’t expect to see Jake hovering over you. With a raised eyebrow, you asked. “Are you following me?”

“No, I just missed you.” He ironized, taking a seat near you and looking at your book. “You’re such a nerd,” he mimicked your position, so his head was also resting on the tree behind you two but he was facing you. Too close.

You nervously gulped before saying, “Yeah, cuz I’m the one who likes to show myself off to a girl talking about Theory of relativity and other physical terms”, you sounded too sarcastic and instantly felt bad. “I’m not complaining, by the way,” you whispered looking away, part of you hoping for him not to hear but due to the proximity he obviously heard. And smiled.

Jake was afraid you could hear his heartbeats at that moment. Your side profile enchanted him in ways he could not describe. Your shy little smile got him thinking if it would be too weird to take a picture to have it with him forever.

He looked away, enjoying the silence.

“It’s very calm over here,” he said in a deep low voice, resting his chin on his knee. You took advantage of him not facing you anymore and watched him as he watched other people wander around, almost forgetting to say something back.

“Yeah, I like it here because it’s always calm like this,” he looked back at you when you talked. You forced yourself to keep eye contact for as long as you could, trying your best to ignore your burning cheeks.

Jake looked away. You noticed he was flustered too.

“And what about you, Jakey?” The little nickname spilling out your mouth like sugar, he almost melted. “Isn’t your campus like a few blocks from here?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, but I’ve got like an hour to spare before my next class.” You hummed. “So I decided to come over and thought I could maybe bump into you again,” he slyly smiled at you. You laughed at the term he used.

“But I can go away if you want me to, sweetheart.”

You instantly shook off your head and almost grabbed his arm as if trying to stop him from getting up. “You can stay.”

“Okay.”

And he did.

There was a brief silence moment before you plucked up the courage to ask. “What’s with the pet names?”

“You don’t like them?”

The worried puppy eyes he gave you almost broke your heart. “It’s not that… It’s just, y'know…”, you shrugged, trying to find the right way to put it. “Do you use them with everyone?”

You needed to know. You noticed Jake shuffling on his seat a bit, as if he was uncomfortable. And well, he wasn't fully comfortable either. There was no good explanation to why he called you all of that, and no, he didn’t use pet names with no other people but you. He dated two other girls before and of course called them cute pet names while being with them, but now you were the only one on his mind since the first encounter and he could not help it.

Jake was a believer of “love at first sight”, however he understood the necessity of getting to know the other person if he wanted to build something with them and never really got carried away with the primary delusional feeling.

With you he was kinda different. He let his flirtatious side shine way more easily than he would normally do. When he noticed how cute the girl who bumped on his chest that day was, he just let it all out. Little did you know that his first instinct of flirting with you was due to his nervousness.

Now he would be down to a one night stand type of thing if you wanted to, but didn’t sound right to do so. You looked too precious to him. He wanted to be close to you and get to know every single piece of you before anything. He wanted to know your likings, interests and overall personality.

He could let himself fall in love with you.

Immersed in his own thoughts, he didn’t even realize he had become quiet and left you hanging kinda in a compromised position.

“You know what? Forget it,” you shook it off, feeling embarrassed. It wasn't like he owes you any explanation about his life or what he does with it. If he decided to play with your feelings, then you should know your position of not falling for it. “Tell me something very nerdy about your area,” you asked brightly. “I’ve got a few minutes still.”

You noticed how bold you became around Jake. Apparently that's how it worked between you two.

He would be the one starting the whole thing, making you get too flustered for your own good with the cute names and shameless flirting, until he breaks out the character for a few seconds, enough for you to be the audacious one and make him blush.

At some point you started to get used to Jake’s presence in your everyday life. Both of you would constantly reach for the other during free time just to hang out, and sometimes to grab some food together. Yet you never let him get too close, fearing that you would let yourself get too attached to the feeling. You made it a rule not to fall for him and you’ve been holding on so far, even with Jake making it way too difficult.

Jake was sweet, caring and not afraid to express his feelings when he needed to. Not only that but he also would remember little details about you, like your favorite coffee order or the fact that you can only listen to the first half of a song because you think the rest sucks – Jake always skips it when playing on his car radio.

He got along with your friends easily as he’s a well spoken person as well, and even introduced you to his own friends. You met Heeseung and Sunghoon, the last one being a classmate of Jake while Heeseung studied music, both older than you. You found out that Heeseung was the said friend who made Jake wander around your campus causing the whole bumping-into-each-other situation and it became an inside joke among all of you.

Jake made it normal to ask you out from time to time within the excuse that both of you were overwhelmed with the university duties and deserved to see the outside world.

So after today’s classes you walked down the parking lot after receiving a text from him saying he would take you to a place – he refused to tell you where you were going.

He was already waiting for you, being too attractive as he leaned against his car while looking at something on his phone. Your heart started to pump fast in your chest, making you take a few deep breaths beforehand.

“Hey,” you greeted when you got closer and he glanced over at you, immediately opening a big smile and embracing you in a hug.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you took your sweet time to feel the warmth of his body and perfume. “Ready to go?”

You moved back from the hug and watched as he opened the door car for you.

“Mhm, but you got me extra curious, so I’m having high expectations,” you tried to exaggerate in your words in order to get a little hint, but of course Jake was already getting immune to your tricks at this point so he just laughed.

“I’m sure you’ll like it, sweetheart.”

You settled yourself in his car, feeling way too comfortable with the amount of time you already spended there with him as you threw your bag on the backseats and chose the song for the trip.

Jake dared you to show him your favorite songs every time you two drove together, but you wanted to get to know his music taste as well so you two decided to alternate who chose the songs for that day. And it was your turn.

“Paramore for today, huh?” He pointed out with a small smile.

“Yeah, you don’t like it?”

“I love it.”

One of the reasons your heart beat fast when around Jake was the freedom to be yourself and just do whatever you wanted to do, without even noticing you caused the same to him with your charming behavior. Every time he stopped at a red light he would look at you bobbing your head and lip syncing to the lyrics excitedly while doing a little dance.

He tried his best to not show how dearing he was looking at you, but you caught the cute brown eyes facing your side from time to time and the only reaction from both of you was to look away and blush.

As the conversation flowed, he shared a bit of his day to you, telling about how stressed he has been because of his study partner being a pain in his ass, and the only hint of where you were going he let out was “And because of that, I need to de-stress and that’s why we goin’ where we goin’”.

You pouted and forced the best puppy eye you could while looking at his direction. He almost broke out. “You’re mean. You don’t make a girl curious like that.”

“Don’t worry, we are almost there.”

You gave up trying to figure out where you were going and hoped for the best. You knew that with Jake nothing could be bad, because his presence alone was enough.

Jake felt similar to you, not admitting out loud that just the fact that you were with him already reduced a lot of his stress. You may not know that but everyday he was eagerly waiting for the moment you both would meet during the day, and when you couldn't find time to do so, he was thrilled to receive a simple text from you.

Your presence was enough to make him happy.

It didn't take longer than a few songs for you to arrive at the place you instantly recognized as a beach.

“A beach?” You sounded excited, but also a bit confused. You don’t think you have clothes to enter the water and the sun was already starting to set, so you didn’t get much of his idea at first.

Jake parked the car and as usual, he opened the door for you. “Yep. I know it’s kinda late for a swim or anything like that, but it wasn’t planning to do anyways,” he helped you to get out.

Normally he would let your hand go as soon as you felt stable on your feet after leaving the car, but that day he decided to hold your hand as he gently pulled you in the direction he wanted to take you.

You said nothing. How could you? The slender fingers holding yours had broken you down. The air felt thick in your airways as you walked alongside him, heart beating louder and louder while you watched the beautiful view of the sun finding its way down the horizon. The cold breeze hit your face and brought so much peace to your inner self. You could live forever like that.

Jake suddenly stopped walking and since you were a bit behind him, you bumped slightly at his back, hands still together. You looked over his shoulder and gasped. The place you two were now had a better view of the sunsetting and the waves calmly hitting the rocks sounded way too heavenly.

You blinked slowly, reluctantly letting Jake hand go as you walked a bit forward. Behind you, he watched as your hair flew due the breeze.

"It's so pretty..." you uttered under your breath, mesmerized by the look of the orange and pinkish colored sky. You felt like crying.

He took a few steps and glanced at your serene expression.

While you enjoyed the view, Jake enjoyed you.

"Yeah, very pretty."

You had no clue of how fast Jake’s heart was beating right now. He was hypnotized by you, a sudden urge to kiss you building up his mind right away.

“I now understand why you come here to de-stress”, you said after a while, the sound of your sweet voice bringing him back to reality. He had literally lost himself on you at that very moment.

You lazily smiled, feeling extra calm and glanced at Jake, who was already looking at you with soft eyes.

“Thank you, Jakey,” you hugged him sincerely. “For bringing me here and for being here with me. I needed that.”

Jake sighed, hugging you tightly. At this point there was no way he could hide the thump-thump in his chest, and honestly? He stopped caring if you noticed or not.

He stopped caring if you noticed he was – not so slowly – falling for you.

It was a stressful week for you, not only were you on your period but also dealing with a bunch of deadlines. You considered throwing yourself in front of a bus when you realized how left behind you were in your assignments. Your finals getting closer and closer didn’t help either.

For good and long days you almost locked yourself at the library in order to catch up with everything, because even with the help of some friends that shared the classes with you you were barely holding on.

Jake would appear out of nowhere and give you a cup of warm coffee, some muffins and a little kiss on your forehead before heading out and letting you do your thing.

“I just wanna make sure you’re eating well, princess,” he would say every time. And no matter how lovingly his actions would be, you couldn't allow yourself to feel them because of your anxiety of failure.

And yes, ever since you asked about the nicknames and stuff he started to use them more often than your heart could handle, especially after he discovered that you liked them, even if you didn't admit it out loud.

Friday arrived. You wished you could get excited about going out to the little party Jake said Heeseung would be throwing that evening, but you needed a good night of sleep and your whole body was aching due to your period. You just wanted to sink on your bed sheets after taking a hot shower.

One thing that became normal in your life was getting a ride with Jake some days of the week, unfortunately he didn’t have any classes on fridays so you just had to walk your way home. You took your sweet time to feel the cold autumn breeze hit you on the face hoping it would take away all your stress. The buzzling sound of your phone caught your attention as you saw Jake’s text on its display.

Jakey 🐶: Hey there princess It’s been three days since I last saw you and I’m ngl, I kinda miss your pretty face lol I hope you’re doing well I left you a little smth at your apartment. At the door, ofc Don’t freak out, I didn’t stole your keys or broke into your house or smth Please, don’t stress yourself too much <3 And dw, I’m not mad you’re not going to the party Have a good rest, pretty girl. AND PLEASE don’t forget to eat!!!!

You almost cried reading all of that and blamed your hormones for being a mess of feelings.

You: Hi Jakey!! Kinda miss you too you left something to me? i’m kinda scared I’m dealing with cramps rn so I’m not so fine, but I’ll eventually, dw! And yeah, I’ll make sure to eat and rest well enjoy your night, pretty boy <3

You noticed you felt much braver through texts than in person, but this was the first time you were the one using a nickname so you were shaking a bit.

Jakey 🐶: AJDKSSJDJS SORRy I Yeah, uhm No need to be scared, princess, I’m sure you’ll like it Cramps? Take on some medicine, please!! Do u want me to come over? Are u home yet?

He sounded so desperate and nervous that genuinely made you laugh out loud. But with a simple text back saying “no, you go enjoy your night out and I’ll enjoy my bed” you finished the conversation as you finally arrived home.

Near your apartment’s doormat, there was a pretty bouquet of daisies alongside a little box of chocolates. You noticed a little hand note inside the bouquet.

“I remember you saying you like these flowers and everyday I pass by a flower shop and always think about buying it for you, so today I finally did. There’s chocolate too. Hope you like it.

Have a good rest, princess.

Jake”

You took a deep breath in order to hold back the tears trying to escape. Not falling for Jake was a difficult rule to follow, and you didn’t know if you wanted to keep doing it anymore.

“So what you're telling me is that Jake left his house on a fucking Sunday morning and brought you ice cream because you... were feeling too lazy to go buy it yourself?”

“When you put it like that…”

Chaewon, Yunjin and you were sitting at one of the furthest tables in the cafeteria that you usually went to when the three of you wanted to gossip or just meet to catch things up. It was a late afternoon on a Tuesday and you barely had time to see them in the last few days, mainly because you had missed a few classes to finish reading other teachers' required books.

“The real question is: why aren’t both of you dating already?”

Yunjin was flabbergasted by what you were describing about Jake. There’s no way that guy wasn’t in love with you at this point. She didn't understand what was taking you so long to ask him out already, especially because she noticed that Jake was kinda holding himself back.

“Yeah! He follows you like a little puppy and looks at you like you are a goddess or something!” Chaewon added. “I mean, you are a goddess, but to get someone to look at you like that?!”

“Girl, you gotta bag him ASAP!” Yunjin playfully pushed your shoulder, but you weren't feeling that happy about all of it.

You sighed. “But what if I’m just a fun little game to him?”

“What?!” It was funny the way both of them said in unison, but instead of laughing you just continued with a sad voice tone.

“Y’know, he’s been flirting with me since the very beginning. I don’t know. Part of me believes his words and actions, they seem genuine. But the other part is way too afraid of trusting too much,” a single tear ran down your cheek as you frowned. “I don’t want to be hurt again.” You whispered as you looked down.

“Baby,” Yunjin, who was sitting next to you, hugged you sideways and planted a sweet little kiss on top of your head. “We know you’ve been through a lot of shit because of your stupid ex, but I don’t think Jake’s like that.”

Chaewon, who was in front of you, took your hand in hers as she spoke. “Yeah, and you know, If he tries something or if he dares to break your heart, you’ll always have me to make his life a living hell.”

You smiled through the tears running down all over your face. With a reassuring look, Yunjin asked.

“Give it a try, yeah?”

Jake knew what he was getting himself into. He would be fine if you put him in the friendship side, but the thought of having you to himself pleased him way too much. The idea of other guys touching you the ways he wanted to, knowing that none of them would treat you right, consumed his mind as much as the vision of your pretty smile.

The urge of getting physically closer to you was itching him incessantly.

Ever since he discovered that he was in fact falling in love with you, he became unable to get you out of his head. It was like a kind of mantra that chanted your name every time he saw something that reminded him of you, and almost everything reminded him of you.

He didn't had the courage to ask you out on a proper date so far, because even though the both of you had developed an incredibly nice friendship, he was too afraid that he was seeing beyond reality because of his delusional self, and more than that he was scared as hell of losing you.

You probably only thought of him as a friend who you could playfully flirt with, he would say to himself. At the same time, the way he sometimes caught you looking at him seemed much more loving than it should.

There seemed to be more love than friendship in that relationship of yours.

He was also having to deal with the hard job of avoiding kissing you. Recently he found himself getting lost on your lips too often. A dangerous play. Still he kept you as close as he could, hugging you or having at least one of his arms around your shoulder or waist in order to fulfill a bit of his neediness.

Thinking about you and only you, he sighed, finishing his business at his locker, finally reaching the book he was looking for and placing it in his backpack.

"Ok, quick question", Jake almost screamed at your sudden appearance when he closed the metal door, widening his eyes and dramatically putting a hand on his chest. You laughed.

"Firstly, what are you doing here?” He said after catching his breath. “Secondly, why do you like to scare me so much?", he kinda whined and you laughed.

"I just wanted to know if your name is really Jake or if it's a nickname", you smiled innocently. Jake on the other side of the hand didn't buy your "pure" expression, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Why would you run all the way through here just to ask about my full name, which I’m pretty sure you already know?" He wasn't buying any of that.

"Because I wanna manifest you in my life," you answered like it was obvious and you both began to walk side by side. You were going to be very late to your class but your professor has to understand that sometimes you have more important things to do other than attend classes.

"I thought I was already in your life...?" Jake was trully confused.

"Yeah, but I kinda wanna you in my life more than just what you are right now.”

"What are you talking about, Y/N?" Saying your name was an indicator that either he was serious or very confused, either way you didn't care much so you just carried on with your talking.

“Go on a date with me.” He stopped walking and so did you. Jake looked at you, blinking without saying a word. "On a date, you know,” you motioned with your hands, losing a bit of the courage you had to build up to do all of that. “We go to someplace, grab some food, wait for the night to fall down and boom, stargazing while we talk about our amazing theories of life or whatever.”

Jake gulped, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Normally he would be the one programming the whole thing and just saying you are both heading to somewhere, but to have you asking like that… If he understood it right, you were asking him to go on a real date.

"Sounds like something we already do." He let out a breathy and nervous laugh, still trying to thoroughly understand what you were saying, looking if there was some kind of joke hidden behind your eyes.

You looked extra attractive today, as if you dressed yourself up just for this moment. Just for him. He noticed you were wearing his jacket as well.

"It pretty much is, but at the end of this one I want to be able to kiss you,” you said in one go. “On the lips, if it's not clear."

Jake now was more speechless and completely baffled than ever. He was sure he was dreaming. It became normal routine for him to dream of you lately so of course this was all a trick of his own mind trying to compensate for his neediness of you.

He was so fucking dreaming.

With the lack of response, you thought you fucked up.

“I-I’m sorry, I–”, you started as you felt your confidence running away from you immediately. “Just forget about what I just said, I should not have said anything to begin with. I’m so sorry, ok?” You noticed your hands trembling. Due to your nervousness, everything you had on the back of your mind just went out. “I don't know what I was thinking when I decided to come here and try to take our relationship to a next level or something. But it's been so hard to be around you without wanting you even closer,” you whined. “And I finally got the courage to ask you out on a proper date, but you clearly don't see us like that so forget about it. I’m sor–”

No one. Not a single soul could prepare you to be silenced by Jake’s lips on yours. His hand automatically grabbed your waist as yours went to rest on his chest.

Kissing in the middle of the university hallway wasn’t the ideal way of tasting each other's for the first time so Jake decided to not take too long on holding the contact, breaking it to say “I’m sorry, I needed you to shut up.” His lips brushed on yours as he spoke. You blinked twice and breathed heavily, feeling the touch of his warm hand on your skin as he cupped one of your cheeks. You looked for his brown honeyed orbs, catching them exchanging glances between your lips and your eyes.

“We can go out on a date,” he brushed his thumb softly on your bottom lip. “The one where we go to some place, grab some food, do whatever you want and I can properly kiss you.”

Jake was fighting demons not to kiss you again. He was absolutely certain he would go crazy, just a little taste of you and he already felt like he was starving, his body totally dependent and reactive because of you.

“Okay,” your voice was barely a whisper and you had to use all your strength to stop yourself from leaning in to feel his touch again. Instead, you reluctantly pulled away, immediately missing all of his touches; you felt your skin tingle in every place he had touched you. Still his hand rested on your waist, unable to let you go. “I gotta go,” you noticed how his eyes wandered all over your face, like he was taking a picture with it in order to save it from the rest of the day.

You smiled, hesitantly sliding your hands away from his chest.

“Alright, sweetheart,” before you could let him go, he grabbed one of your hands and planted a gentle kiss at the back of it. “I’ll text you later then?”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

You had to hold a scream when you heard your doorbell ringing. Chaewon and Yunjin who were in a shared video call squealed for you.

They looked more excited than yourself and you really appreciated the effort they took to help you out even with their busy schedule for the day, deciding to call you not only because they knew you would be nervous as fuck but also because Yunjin was willing to help you with your outfit choice.

You ended up wearing something cute, but cozy and warm: a matching pair of a top and long loose skirt, patterned with a black background and some stars and moons, a black boot and as a final touch: Jake’s big jacket. You also did a little hairstyle with two small braids at the front and the rest of your hair loose.

Yunjin noticed how confident you were in choosing the clothing and even doing your hair, showing that you didn’t need much of her help – which normally she would dramatically react to, but today she just felt proud and happy for you.

Jake made you comfortable enough to be yourself whenever you were with him.

And you were going on a date with him.

A fucking proper date.

You said a quick ‘goodbye’ to your girls who replied with a very high pitched ‘good luck!’ and then hung up, walking towards the door and needing to take a few deep breaths before opening it.

As you did, you greeted a very smiley – and hot – Jake.

He was glowing.

Not only was his face glowing but he seemed overall confident. He was wearing a reddish flannel jacket that covered an oversized black shirt together with his everyday silver necklace, jeans and black boots. A perfect combo, especially to you who loved to see a man in red – you once told him about this preference of yours and was questioning if he did it on purpose.

The silky brown strands fell perfectly in place again when Jake ran his hand through it and licked his lips after shamelessly checking you out.

“Hi b– Oh my god, you look stunning.”

Early the day through your texts you decided to go simple but special on the planning due lack of time. The whole idea was kinda in a hurry, but after getting to taste a little of how it is to kiss Jake, you needed the action of kissing him to become an everyday routine as soon as possible, so the initial plan – the date will be happening on a chill day for both of you, mostly likely Friday – was replaced by a very eagerly “Ok, I’m taking you to a place” said by you.

“And you look hot,” the wording flew out your mouth faster than you expected and instantly your eyes went wide.

Jake smirked as he leaned into the door frame. “Appreciate it, baby.”

Baby.

You were so fucked up. There’s no way your heart could handle this the whole night.

Jake noticed the way you just blinked at him without saying a word and he just knew you were absorbing the whole situation before becoming confident over him. It was the way you worked and he loved that.

So he decided to take his sweet time and take a bit of advantage over your flustered self as he walked closer to you. “I brought what you asked,” he sounded a bit too sexy saying such simple words and little did you know that he deepened his voice a bit just for fun.

Due to the closeness, Jake scented your perfume and swore he was getting drunk, too intoxicated by your sweet smell.

You looked at the bag he lifted and nodded, fully in a trance. You forced yourself to snap out of it as you reminded yourself you have a fucking date and finally spoke “Oh, right. I’ll go pick up what I’ve prepared for us!” You walked towards the kitchen. “Do you want anything? Water maybe?”

“Just you.”

You choked on your own saliva as your cheeks started to burn. You foolishly thought that at least Jake wasn’t aware of your reaction, but as soon as you got back from the kitchen after picking up the picnic basket with the sandwiches you made, you realized he was very much aware and messing with you with the flirting as usual. You could see in his eyes a strange mix of false innocence and mischievousness. And of course, in that little game of yours you would always win.

“Well, you already have me,” you winked at him as you pulled yourself together and now was time for Jake to lose his composure, blushing. “Let's go?”

“Y-yeah.”

You gave him an address and he drove you both to the place, fully trusting you. You wanted to surprise Jake since he was usually the one who surprised you, but you hadn't gotten your driver's license yet so you needed him to do the driving in order to achieve your goal. That's why you decided to give him an address a little further away from your final destination, so both of you could walk there without him suspecting anything.

Jake was feeling like a happy puppy, very excited about what was going to happen tonight.

He was curious about your plans, especially after you asked for a picnic blanket and some beverages – “a night picnic?” he asked as you two texted. He remembers you just replying with “lol don’t fool yourself”.

He didn’t know what to expect about the place really, and not only that, he couldn’t stand the urge to kiss you properly. God, he was so in need of you it hurted. Having you next to him, your scent all over him, your sweet and lively presence, and not being able to touch you was driving him insane.

“I don’t wanna you to get high on expectations, Jakey,” you said softly after a while with a concerned voice. Jake had stopped at a red light and the silence wasn’t awkward, but it was undeniable that you were worried about the outcome of that night.

What if Jake doesn’t like what you’ve prepared? What if he thinks you’re too dumb and leaves you? What if he doesn’t really wanna be with you?

“I’ll like whatever you’ve planned, sweetheart,” just like Jake was reading how anxious was your mind, he uttered. “You are my company for tonight. That’s all I need,” he reassured you, holding your hand and resting it on your thigh.

You glanced over at him to see his lips turned into such a gorgeous smile you almost cried. Jake was perfect.

“Okay,” you brought his hand to your lips and planted a small kiss. You tried to let it go after, but he refused.

Jake drove the rest of the way holding you, only letting it go when needed, but catching it again as soon as he could.

The warmth and softness of his touch took all the worry out of your head in a minute, and just like you arrived. Jake parked where you told him to do so and opened the car door and helped you to get out as usual. This time though he intertwined your fingers as he let you guide him through the way.

“Don’t we need to bring the things?”

“Nah, we have something to do before,” you tried to sound enigmatic, forcing an expression which made Jake laugh, totally endeared by you.

“Ooh, so mysterious.”

You both walked for a bit rambling about the surroundings. It was kinda in the middle of nowhere, with nothing much around and plenty of open space. Jake noticed there was a big building and before he could say a thing, you began to explain.

“So I know we both like astronomical stuff, right?” He nodded, looking at you. So pretty. “May I say you especially in a very nerdy way,” you softly pushed his shoulder with yours and he playfully rolled his shining eyes while failing to hold back a smile, full of adoration for you. “I thought about this when I realized I wanted to be more than just friends with you,” you stopped walking to completely face him, holding both of his hands. “Behind you at this exact moment there’s a stellar observatory,” you stopped him from turning around wanting to finish your speech first. “Apparently fate had worked through this, since today they don’t normally open to everyone. Only for reservations or something like that.”

You finally let Jake turn around and take a proper look at the place. You watched as his eyes began to shine even brighter, it looked like he was about to cry. You also noticed how his hand tightened around yours, as if he was nonverbally thanking you.

Jake was genuinely flabbergasted. How the fuck did he managed to find someone that amazing?

“I’m not gonna ask how you managed to get a reservation here,” he joked.

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?” He just laughed it off. “Well, I kinda didn’t,” you suddenly felt small, even tried to restrain your hand from his but he refused to let you go.

You ran away from his intense gazing, not wanting to see the disappointment on it as you kept talking “We’re not going into the observatory. We’re gonna use the telescopes they have open for use down here,” you explained. “Since today it’s a reservation only or whatever day, we get to use it freely. It’s definitely not the same thing, but I’m sure it can be cool.” you forced a smile still afraid to look at Jake’s direction. “I tried to book it for us I swear I did, but it was too expensive,” you uttered apologetically and again you were rambling due to your nervousness.

Jake not saying a thing helped nothing either. Little did you know he was as speechless as amazed with your witty self for figuring out a way of making that night special in such a short amount of time. He knew how hard it is to come up with ideas like that and to make it work. And you did it. Flawlessly.

He was so falling in love with you.

“...I’m so sorry if I raised your expectations too high. I wanted to do something nice since you’re always doing nice things to me, you deserve bett–”

Jake once more interrupted your nonsense speech by pressing his lips on yours and you instantly melted in his arms, your hands moving up to find comfort on his shoulders as his own went down your back until they rested on your waist, squeezing lightly.

You moved your head to the side wishing to deepen the kiss, the whole fantasy of waiting for the special moment to finally kiss him was already blown apart as both of your bodies searched for the other’s.

Your heart was beating fast and all your senses were heightened and sensitive, as if Jake had awakened a new sensation in you. A genuine sense of desperation for closeness. You needed more. Like reading your mind, Jake’s tongue touched your bottom lip at the same time your fingers scratched the back of his head, getting lost through his soft strands as you pulled him closer.

Jake touched you with care, he was kissing you so tenderly yet you could still feel his hunger for you. You weren’t different either. One of his hands came up to hold your face to help with the movement of your heads. You quickly found a pace, like two puzzle pieces being a perfect fit.

Neither of you wanted to part away, feeling too addicted to the contact. So whenever one broke down to breathe the other would reach over and start again, until your lips were a little bit sore. You pulled away unwilling, leaving little pecks on his plump lips as he did the same on yours.

Jake was unable to hold back his smile and didn’t even tried to, too happy about finally kissing you. “We have a little problem, baby,” he whispered as his dazzling eyes wandered all over your features. You looked even more stunning under the moonlight. “What?” You quietly asked back. “I don’t think I can or want to stop kissing you.”

You giggled, feeling shy under his intense but gentle gaze. He was adoring you and you could feel every piece of it.

“You don’t have to stop.”

And just like that you kissed again. And again. And again.

You felt like a drug to Jake, so addictive, so intense, so you. He had the impression that all his problems would be solved instantly if you just kissed him. He decided that from now on at the end of a stressful day, he would search for your touch and your touch only.

“But I kinda want you to stop for a bit, so we can go see the stars,” Jake chuckled when you broke the kiss to say.

“You love stars, don’t you, pretty girl?” He gave you a final cute little smooch while hugging you tightly.

“Yeah.”

And even though you had observed dozens of stars that night, none of them shone brighter than your eyes together.

You were dating.

Actually there was no big difference from what you and Jake acted before, other than the fact that everyday that he went to pick you up to the university, you got to kiss him, which made you two develop the routine of waking a bit early just to get enough moments together.

Also you started to feel comfortable to call him cute names, your favorite being pretty boy, very effectively when you wanted to fluster Jake and see him giggling.

The dynamic was similar, but way better.

When you told your friends about the night, they literally screamed. Of course you kept as a secret how romantic it was to lay down under the moon and starlight with Jake as you cuddled and shared kisses. But everything about Jake sounded dreamy.

He was so cute and you were not so slowly falling in love. He would leave you at your classes everyday and kiss you good luck. Due to his recent research project his time was getting tighter, nevertheless he would squeeze his whole schedule just to see you for a minute or two. And of course, to steal a kiss from you.

Most of your lunch time was with him, either when you had time to grab some food and eat in peace or when some of you two were in a hurry. On days like that, you normally would find him in the library, leaving him some snacks, water and a sweet kiss. He would do something similar to you.

Gradually your relationship was growing stronger, however you still hadn’t done anything on the bed yet other than kiss and sleep together. You weren’t complaining! You loved to kiss Jake and to feel his warm body embracing yours.

He was very respectful towards you and you really appreciated that. He would initiate the kisses sessions most of the time, but rarely deepen it waiting for you to do it. His hands would never go further down your hips, even when you tried to force him to do it by putting it on your ass he relocated them back up.

But you were a woman after all. A woman with desires and needs. Strong desires and needs.

Even though you had a long-term relationship, it was only after the breakup that you discovered that your ex didn't give you any pleasure – or gave you anything at all. Your previous relationship was a mess, to be honest. Talking to people and listening to their experiences made you realize how shitty you were being treated back then – in every aspect!

You knew how to please yourself and most of the time was enough. However, it’s been a while since you last had sex and you could live without it normally, but there was Jake, all over you.

His smell, his pretty face, his touches, his lips, his fucking nose and his slender fingers… The way his veiny hands would hold the steering wheel drove you insane. You needed him.

It was a cold Saturday and you were watching him play your video game. Yeah, apparently Jake liked your video game more than you – this was you being dramatic every single time he stopped to pay all of his attention to you and decided to play something, but as soon as he starts to celebrate for defeating a boss, you just smile and forget about the drama.

Today was a bit different though. Normally you would pay attention to either the screen or to his pretty face and reactions, loving how expressive he was, always thinking Jake was a sculpture or something. But on this very specific day you paid more attention to his hand movements.

The way his grip was strong on the controller and how his fingers moved on it was making you mad. He was biting his lip more than usual as well in order to concentrate and, God, you could feel your panties get wet just by watching him like that.

Part of you felt like a perverted.

At some point he groaned. Apparently something bad happened to him on the game, but you didn’t gave a fuck. The sound he left woken a strong feeling inside you.

“Why is this so difficult?” Jake asked frustrated, throwing the controller away on the couch in defeat and looking at you.

He wasn't expecting to meet your intense gaze on him, eyes darkened as your tongue traveled through your lips to wet it.

His confused puppy eyes and parted lips were your last straw.

You straddled over his lap, hungrily kissing him. You almost instantly sucked his bottom lip, looking for a more intense contact. You could feel he was a bit confused, hesitantly resting his big hands on your hips, not knowing what to do.

When you bite his lip you heard a whimper and that alone made you grunt against Jake’s mouth in response, pulling him even closer. You pulled a few strands of his hair and again he let out a sound for you, feeling him getting hard beneath your body.

Before you could continue doing your job, he said in an urge, his breath heavy. “I gotta go.”

You shook off your head whispering “No,” and pulled him again to keep making out with him, lewd kissing sounds filling the room, a total mess happening in your living room.

The feeling of his hardened bulge hitting directly on your covered wet cunt was making you rub yourself against it, hoping to get more friction. At this exact moment Jake forced you to move away from him, gripping your hips to stop your movements.

“I really gotta go, I have some uni stuff to do,” he was breathless. You noticed how his eyes were different from ever, face red and skin hot. You blinked a few times as you just watched him put you back on the couch and stand up, trying to cover his obvious boner with his oversized jacket. He gave you a little kiss on the cheek and said goodbye to you before rushing out of your apartment.

You had to satisfy yourself alone that night. And after that, you cried.

You started to question yourself.

Yeah, Jake looked at you like you were the only one in his life. But was it enough? Does he find you attractive? Or better: does he find you desirable? Sexy? Hot? Sensual?

Since that day Jake started to run away from your more passionate touches like he was running from death.

At first you thought he could be a virgin, and no problem with that. You would let him feel comfortable enough with you to try to do something more, however you knew he had other relationships and weren’t inexperienced either.

Actually you even went to Sunghoon and Heeseung to ask them about it, to which they answered that Jake may be “boyfriend material” and only have intimate moments with people he somehow trusts, but he definitely wasn't inexperienced in that field.

So doubting yourself was your only option. You could also ask directly why he never did more than just kisses with you, but that option needed more courage from you than you had.

“What’s with the frown, baby?” Yunjin asked you one day as you both decided to lunch together. You were giving excuses to Jake during the whole day in order not to talk to him, saying you were too busy and that maybe today you wouldn’t be able to meet him.

You sighed, playing with the food on your plate. “I don’t think Jake likes me.”

“What? There’s no way. He almost licks the floor you walk on. What did he do?” She was ready to throw hands.

“The real problem it’s the opposite. He don’t do it.”

“Do what, baby?”

“We’ve been dating for weeks and we haven't had sex yet. I’m almost crawling on my bedroom walls.”

“Wow,” Yunjin was shocked, eyes widened. For the way you two acted together, she thought that every single room of your house was blessed already. “Well, have you asked him why? Because that’s pretty much a ‘he’ problem as it seems.”

“I’m afraid,” you stated sincerely.

“Of what, baby?”

“Of him saying something I don’t wanna hear. I don’t wanna lose him, Jinnie,” you uttered with sorrow.

“Y/N, my pretty baby, remember we are talking about Jake. The man who woke up in the middle of the night and went to your house to kill a cockroach because you called him. The man who has a photo of you in his wallet. The man who had literally skipped classes just to spend some time with you because apparently he can’t live without you,” you started sobbing. “He likes you very much, Y/N. And he has shown to be someone who listens to you with adoration. Anything you say or ask him he would do his best to listen and talk about it, you yourself said that to me once when we were ranking green flags, remember?” You nodded.

It was the truth. He was Jake. The man who demonstrates so much affection in every action.

“I’ll talk to him. Thank you, Jinnie.”

“You don’t need to thank me, sweetie.” She kissed the top of your head. “You know I’m always here for you and just want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

You decided to talk to Jake on the next day. You weren't planning to “arrange a sex meeting with him” or anything similar, but to talk about it. So you invited him over that day, knowing he would be completely free because it was a Friday. You did a test early that day and were free as well.

Since he was going to your apartment quite often you gave him a key to make things easier for both of you, so when you heard the front door opening as you drank some water your heart started to beat fast in advance.

His scent followed all the way through your house directly to you. You felt his arms hugging you from behind and for a few seconds you let yourself get lost in his warmth. “Hey, gorgeous. How are you?” He whispered close to your ear, kissing your neck. You turned around to face him. “You look sad. What happened? Are you ok?” He flooded you with questions as his eyes worriedly wandered over your face. You just pecked him quickly before taking his hand on yours and leading him to the couch.

Jake felt his heart sinking.

He maybe was going crazy, but he felt that you had purposely ignored him the day before, constantly finding a rather lame excuse for every solution he gave. He preferred to believe that you were not having a good day and respected your decision. But when you invited him over, it became undeniable how anxious he was feeling.

And the way you welcomed him at that moment made him even more worried, especially when you said the cursed phrase.

“I wanna talk to you about something.”

He swallowed, trying to keep it cool by saying gently “What is it, sugar?” as he reached for your hands to mildly squeeze it in reassurance.

Even though Jake was quite tense, he would always prioritize you and the fact that you had some difficulty verbalizing what normally was bothering you, so he knew it was consuming you just as much.

“I– Actually I don’t even know how to say it,” you started shyly with a low voice, avoiding Jake’s gaze. “But I’m…”

“Y’know you can say anything to me, right?” Jake tried to encourage you as he gently pulled you closer and just like that you moved to sit on his lap, each of your knees on either side of his legs as you trapped him underneath you.

Without saying a thing, you hugged him to hide your face on his neck. Jake wasn’t fully aware of what was happening, but he wanted to give you some comfort so his hands caressed your back slowly.

After a while you muffled his skin with your breath while asking “Do you think I’m unattractive?”

Oh?

Jake had a delayed reaction to your question. “Baby, what?”

You drew apart from him enough to see his confused expression before looking away. “I don’t know if you aren’t sexually attracted to me or what, but you can always tell me y’know. I’m sure we can figure something out,” your voice was almost a whisper due your worried self about confrontations.

“Baby, I’m so confused right now. What are you talking about?”

“I– I’d prefer you saying to my face you don’t wanna have sex with me instead of pulling me away from you every time we go further with our kisses,” as you finished saying, you felt your cheeks burning.

Jake frowned, completely baffled.

Little did you know that Jake lost track of how many times he woke up with a painful boner after dreaming of you. Or how fast he would run away from you after a makeout session with you because of his body response to it.

He would first try to cool down with a shower, but everytime he ended up jerking himself off to get some relief, you being the only one in his mind, always moaning your name when cumming.

But, God, every single time he felt nasty, disgusted with himself. You deserved better. You're like a divinity to him, a beautiful and sweet woman, you needed to be handled with care and love and he was so afraid of hurting you.

The day you told him about your ex and how badly he treated you, especially in the sexual field by not caring about anything but his own pleasure, Jake got mad. Really mad.

How could one in their right mind leave you hanging, when your expressions of pleasure alone were enough to drive any man crazy? He could treat you way better.

Sometimes Jake would get carried away while kissing you, going down to your neck to trail his lips over there biting and sucking slightly. And when he backed a bit to look at your face, he always met you with closed eyes nibbling your bottom lip, a ridiculously lustful view.

Too hard to handle.

He had to almost physically hold himself back every time. He was afraid of scaring you with how much he needed you, with how much he wanted to get lost between your legs, making you scream nothing but his name, with how much he was willing to make you feel good.

And now he got to know that his actions were the ones making you doubt yourself, making you doubt his feelings and needs for you… He was feeling so dumb.

“I– I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You froze. No nicknames, just your regular name.

“I never wanted to make you feel like this. I’m really sorry.”

You gulped the guilty feeling down your throat. “It’s okay, Jakey, I get it,” you smiled awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. That meant that Jake didn't want you in that way, right?

You were about to start rambling as usual and before you did so, Jake shut you up with his mouth on yours. You startled before reacting, moving your tongue with his and dipping your fingers into his silky strands, both of your bodies starting to get hotter.

Jake squeezed your ass while pulling you closer. “I want you, Y/N,” he was serious when you drew apart to catch your breath. “I want you so bad, my darling,” he was so desperate, your panties dampening just by how his voice sounded.

“Yeah?” You smirked, breathing heavy. “How bad, Jakey?” You noticed his eyes darkening. “Show me.”

Getting back to work with his mouth in yours, kissing you very messily, Jake impulsed to stand up with you in his arms. You surrounded your legs around him to keep yourself steady as he stumbled a little on the way to your room. You giggled against his lips when he dropped you softly on the mattress and hovered over you, not breaking the kiss for a second.

Jake’s mouth tasted so sweet and hot on yours, you couldn't help but scratch his back and neck with your fingernails thinking how good he would be doing all that job down your cunt. His dick was getting harder and you could feel it, your mouth watering at the thought of sucking him off. You wanted so bad.

He parted away from your lips just to trail his own plump ones to your neck and collarbone, kissing, sucking and nibbling all the area before finally whispering against your skin, sending chills throughout your body.

“I really wanna eat you out,” Jake sounded determined. “I wanna taste you before anything, sweetheart,” your only reaction was a sigh mixed with a “please” that you were unsure if he heard.

But Jake was catching all of your sounds, from the quietest little whimpers to the slightly more intense ones, like the one you released when he removed your shirt and bra to work on your tits, his mouth sucking your left one while his hand cupped the other before he switched to do the opposite.

Before he continued to get down on you, you quietly asked him to remove his shirt and as he did, he revealed to you part of his perfect body. By the superficial touches over his clothes and of course the preview bumps, you knew he had a toned chest, but to see it all on display to you… You literally moaned at the view.

You promised yourself that later on you would give every bit of that skin the attention it deserved.

You watched him smile shyly before kissing your inner thigh, without breaking eye contact. Jake was absolutely certain he would cum in his pants at any given moment. The mix of your little sounds with the way you were looking at him like you were about to eat him alive triggered a strangely pleasant feeling.

“Can I remove these?” He asked between kisses on your skin, pointing to your shorts. You nodded. “And these?” He pointed now to your panties and you nodded again, head resting on your pillow. “Yes, please. I want you.”

Jake noticed how wet you were through your last clothing piece and he literally had to hold himself back to not just dive right into you. He was getting dizzy by your smell, eyes hooded as he removed the only thing that stopped him from touching you like you deserved.

Jake salivated admiring your pussy, breathing heavily as he swallowed nothing.

At this point you were on the verge of crying due to your desperation and his unnecessary slowness, so you spread your legs even more and pleaded. “Please Jakey, I really want you,” you whined, grabbing his hair with your hand and forcing it down your cunt. “I don’t want you to hold yourself on me, pretty boy.”

And as if you casted a spell, Jake looked at you one more time before burying his face in you.

You gasped.

He felt you dripping on his mouth and grunted, collecting some arousal with his tongue to spread all over your area before flicking it on your clit, sometimes sucking just the right amount and sometimes doing big licks. His tongue worked so damn well, you just rolled your hips in order to get more. You were so sensitive and so needy. His grip on each side of your body got stronger as he pulled you closer.

You moaned Jake’s name when he decided to use one of his fingers together with his mouth, pressing it on your entrance with care, just to familiarize you with the sensation before adding one more. After all, he just wanted you to feel good and not to be hurt.

You kept rubbing yourself on his face and now grinding on the two fingers inside you. Jake was doing such an amazing job on you, curling his fingers the moment he needed to like he knew you from inside out, using the tip of his nose to rub your clit as his tongue and mouth worked in the rest.

“You’re doing such a good job, pretty boy,” you praised between moans and heard Jake groaning between your legs and intensifying his movements, eating you out as his life depended on it.

“I wanna you to cum all over my face, princess,” he said, muffled. His skilful fingers moved at a steady pace. “I need that, give it to me, babe, please.”

Your orgasm was already building up inside your core. You felt the familiar sensation growing bigger and bigger until you let it out the loudest moan of the night as your back arched. Jake’s words and all the combo of his warm mouth and fingers inside you were enough to make you achieve your climax, trembling beneath his touches, grabbing his hair tightly.

Jake drank you like it was his favorite drink, licking every single drop of you with pleasure, his dick now painfully compressed in his boxers. He could get himself off just by eating you out.

He drove you through your high, movements slowing as he felt your grasp on his hair softening and your body less shaky. He kissed your pussy a few times and then crawled over you to kiss you on the lips. You watched your juices decorating his chin, nose and a bit on his cheeks before you felt your own taste in your mouth.

Jake's hard, covered bulge rubbed against your bare cunt and you whined, breaking the kiss to down your hands all the way to his cock and to utter “Babe, you’re so hard.” Jake whimpered against your mouth and you flipped over to be on top of him. “Let me help you with that.”

And as you promised yourself, you trailed kisses all the way down his chest, putting your mouth and tongue to work through his soft skin, making him squirm a bit underneath you.

You stopped once you got to the waistband of his pants, taking it off with Jake’s help and removing his boxers as well. You sighed, mouth salivating at the view of his veiny dick right in front of you.

However, you needed to feel him inside you, so you let your other desires for later, starting to move in a way you could sit on him.

“I wanna ride you,” you announced as if it was your only goal in life. “Like, really bad.”

“Fuck, babe,” Jake groaned, watching you positioned yourself comfortably on top of him, quickly moving his hands to hold your hips. “Go on. Use me,” he threw his head back to just enjoy the sensation of finally feeling your walls around him, before realizing something was off. “But wait– Sugar,” he said with widened eyes, sitting up to hold you before you did anything. “You’re going in raw?” Jake questioned in disbelief.

You blinked at him, confused. “You’re clean, right?”

“Yeah, but–”

“So am I. And on birth control, don’t worry.”

Since you were still wet due your orgasm and because Jake’s little sounds aroused you enough, you pushed him back to bed, giving him a little peck before holding his dick and placing it on your sensitive area.

Jake knew he wasn't getting out of there alive. There was no way. How would he survive you? God, you were insane. And the way you slowly slid down on his length, using its precum to lubricate, sent him out of orbit in an instant.

He did nothing but open his mouth and moan, eyes rolling back to his head with the amazing feeling of your pussy coating him so tight and warm. He could feel you everywhere. He almost cummed just because of that alone, having to close his eyes tightly in order to concentrate enough to not let it happen.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake bit his bottom lip the moment you moved a bit, adjusting yourself. “You feel so fucking good already, fuck.”

You watched every reaction of his, enjoying it as a show. The frowned face in pure pleasure, the red wet lips, face all flustered and glowing, not to mention the dim light of your room working to make the view even more gorgeous and pleasant.

Jake felt you staring and how you stayed still for a while, finding support on his chest with your hands. He opened his eyes to glance at you. You gave him a little smile and he reciprocated, caressing the skin of your body under his touch as he waited for you to feel comfortable enough to move by yourself. Jake watched as you started to move back and forth slowly on his cock, your eyes closing with how good he was filling you up.

Although Jake's hands rested on your hips, he didn't force a single movement, letting you find your pace. He admired you for a moment, “you look so, so pretty right now, baby,” he praised sincerely, watching the way your expressions changed to pure pleasure as you moved faster.

You leaned forward to find his mouth with yours, kissing him, missing those pretty lips of his on yours. Your moans got lost between your mouths as you continued to move faster until you found the pace of your liking, Jake now helping you to keep it going.

Lewd sounds of your bodies shocking against each other filled the room, mixed with whimpers as well as the wet kissing sounds.

Jake reached down with one of his hands to rub your clit, and by the way his cock twitched inside of you, you deduced that he was close to cum and didn't want to do it alone.

You drew apart from the kiss to rest your head on the curve of his neck, sucking the skin as well as whimpering against it. The position leaded Jake to have his mouth directly on your ear, and with all the stimulus happening at the same time, his dick hitting your g-spot, his finger rubbing your sensitive nerve and his voice moaning your name in your ear, you started to clench furiously on Jake’s length.

“Wait–”, you barely heard him saying, too lost in your pleasure already. “Where do I c–”

“Inside,” you answered quickly before he tried to pull off.

“Fuck.” Jake’s head was spinning, he was seeing stars. “Be my girlfriend,” he let it out in one breath.

“What?” You asked back under your breath, questioning if you were hearing things due pleasure.

“Let me be your boyfriend,” he said panting. “Officially. Be my girl, please. Be mine,” he begged with a groan, cumming inside of you.

You openly moaned his name, rolling your eyes back as your orgasm also hit you. You thought that alone could answer his question, keeping on the movement to ride you two through your highs, his strong hands gripping you tightly and your whole body shaking.

You stood over Jake's body for a while after you stopped your movements, catching your breath and feeling his liquid leaking from inside of you.

He helped you to lay back on the bed, both still panting, both so happy about what just happened. You forced yourself to stand up just enough to kiss him before you said, looking deep into his eyes.

“I’m already yours, pretty boy.”

That weekend was intense. Still, you just couldn't get enough of Jake. And he wasn't too different.

Now your routine had changed a little more. He was still the sweet and kind Jake, worrying about you, asking about your day, listening to you rambling about random things, and always bringing you food on your busiest days. But it seemed like you had awakened a monster inside him.

Of course you didn't complain, especially because the one who was getting the benefits was you, who wasn't that different either, never getting enough of him.

Whenever Jake was stressed, he would usually take you somewhere to watch the sunset or to stargazing while talking about life and theories and obviously, kissing you.

Now he started eating you out. Almost every time. And sometimes he would mix these two, taking you somewhere beautiful and eating you out inside his car.

Jake had eaten you out in every room of your apartment, saying that him eating you out got him off more anything else, and you actually witnessed him cum untouched a few times, looking so fucking hot while doing it.

Nevertheless you still couldn't had the chance to give him a proper head. Jake would be saying you didn't have to do it, like you felt obligated. Little did he know that you wanted to feel his dick filling up your mouth and his cum going directly down your throat. Oh, you wanted so badly.

At this exact moment, you were sitting on your kitchen counter with your legs spreaded being supported on Jake’s shoulders as was getting lost between them, diving in your juices, making you cum with his tongue deep inside you. You reached for his hair with your hands, grabbing to bring him up and kiss him fervorous.

“Take me to the bedroom,” you demanded with an urge.

And how would Jake deny such a sweet request?

The moment you got into your bedroom, you tossed him on the bed. You were hungry for him, and him only.

You saw his already hardened cock marking his sweatpants and without giving Jake time to complain, you removed all his clothing pieces – he was already shirtless – and had him naked underneath you.

As usual, he thought you would ride him. Out of all the positions you’ve tried so far, this was a favorite of his – to look at you while you use him for your own pleasure felt too insanely good, so he got excited in advance. But you decided to surprise him this time, contradicting his expectations as you bend over to be at the same height of his pulsing cock, head pretty close to it.

He panicked.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” He asked and tried to sit, but as soon as he did you pushed him back to the bed.

“Imma suck you off,” you said like it was obvious. You wrapped your hand around his length and started to pump it.

“Y–you don’t have to, princess,” he stuttered, feeling hot under your soft touches. “Let me fuck you, mhm? You deserve to feel good.” He tried to sit again and you pushed him back one more time.

“Sucking you off will make me feel good too, Jakey,” you blew a bit of air on his shaft, he shivered. “Don’t you get that?” Your hands worked slowly on his dick, moving up and down, smearing the precum out of his slit with your thumb. He bit his lip to hold back a whimper. “Or do you think you're the only one who gets horny by giving pleasure to others?”

You ran your tongue all over his shaft, closing your eyes as you felt the salty precum taste spreading through your mouth, playing a bit with his tip.

Jake kept hiding his sounds from you.

His hands were squeezing the duvet under his body to the point his knuckles started to get white when you gave a little more attention to his head, realizing that this was his sensitive area. You took advantage of that.

Without a warning, you put his whole cock in your mouth in one go, feeling it hitting on your throat.

“Mhm,” he tried to contain his grunt, hips thrusting forward slightly and his left hand smacking the bed one time before grabbing the sheets again.

You held your position for a few seconds, making sure to breathe through your nose, before moving back and forth twice. Jake squirmed under you, still quiet.

“Why are you hiding from me, pretty boy?” You asked with a low voice when you backed off to breathe, hands replacing your mouth as you did so. Jake finally let it out a little whimper and you smiled. “I wanna hear you, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” he said apologetically, once more biting his lip in order to contain himself.

The reason behind his choice of behavior under your touches was literally due his fear of scaring you off. He would be a total mess if he let it all go as he really felt. Your hot mouth around his dick sent him to hell and heaven all at once, you didn’t had to do much for him to start seeing foggy and being a whimper mess.

Jake felt your lips coating him again and groaned, back slightly arching.

“So gorgeous, Jakey,” you backed off only to encourage with a smile, jerking him off before going back to suck him. He couldn’t hold back his loud moan, eyes rolling when you sucked his sensitive tip. You quivered. You wanted more of him. “Keep on making these pretty noises for me, yeah?”

Although he was afraid of scaring you off, one thing he loved to do was to obey you, to fulfill all of your requests. Whatever you told him to do, he would do it. So when you told him to be vocal, he started to be vocal.

Your mouth swallowed all his throbbing cock, his tip going deep in your throat, precum going down on it. Jake threw his head back, open mouthed, spilling all the little noises you loved. “Fuck, mhm, that’s it, babe,” he breathed out between groans and put one of his hands on your head without forcing you down or anything, just resting there.

The way your throat was pressing his sensitive tip as you swallowed around it, God, he was getting stupidly close. Jake dared to look down at you, meeting your strong gaze as you devoured him like a last piece of meal. “Fuck, you’re doing so good,” he gasped, rolling his eyes. Jake felt a familiar burning wave all the way through his body. “Fuck, I’mgonnacum”.

You kept your movements steady, lightly scratching his thighs before you felt Jake’s body start to shake, his moans intensify and his cum hitting down your throat. You swallowed every drop of it before letting his dick with a pop and using your thumb to clean up the corners of your lips as you crawled back to kiss him passionately.

At this point you were already horny again, so as you kissed him, feeling his shaky hands all over your body, you pressed your bare cunt on his softened shaft and moved a bit. He parted the kiss, trying to push you away.

“I– I don’t think–”, he tried saying. “I’m sensitive, baby– Ahh...”

“Yeah?” You rubbed your bare cunt on his dick with a sly smile. “So you don’t want me to ride you, Jakey?” You kept waving your body on him, forcing a disappointed face with a fake pout.

Jake trembled, feeling his eyes water in a painful pleasure. “Of c–course I– I do, fuck.”, his voice cracked, eyelids closing. He was fully unable to stop you at this point, and he didn’t wanted to anyway, so he just started to sob as you kept sliding on him, back and forth, slowly, painfully slowly.

You were sending him into overstimulation, loving his reactions, loving how desperate he looked. Legs squirming beneath you, eyes tearing up, hands messily trying to figure out what to do, facial expression switching in a mix of pain and delight.

“Please…” He begged. He didn’t even knew for what. Neither did you, so you asked. “Please what, Jakey?” You stopped moving. “You want me to stop?”

He hurried to answer “No! Please, don’t– Don’t stop.” Definitely his begging wasn't about stopping. His breath was short as you started to move again, still slow. Too slow. “Go faster, please darling.”

And how could you deny such a sweet request?

The wet sound of your pussy rubbing against his cock was too lewd. You leaned to kiss Jake, who wasn’t able to kiss you back properly due his undergoing situation. His was dick hardening again against your folds and that was your last straw.

Yeah, he was desperate because of overstimulation, but you were desperate to feel him inside you. So you repositioned yourself to slide him deep on you in one go, making both of you scream.

You threw your head back and instantly started to grind on him, making circle movements, sending both of you to cloud nine.

“Babe I– I’ll not last long– damn.” Jake said breathlessly, hands helping your hips to move.

“Make me cum with you, please,” you begged and of course he would never leave you hanging, so he did his work, rubbing your clit at the same pace as you bounced on him.

You felt your climax building up rapidly, breath getting heavier and heavier, body shaking as you heard Jake saying under breath "I'm cumming", while throwing his head back and filling you up with his warm liquid. You shivered, moaning louder and achieving your peak right after.

Your body fell over Jake’s, who immediately hugged you, panting, all sweaty. “This was…” He started to say after a while, still inside you.

“Good?” He analyzed your expectant eyes when you got up to look at him and chuckled at the difference of the demon eyes you were giving him earlier. “Incredible,” he kissed your forehead. “You are always incredible, my love.”

It was a weirdly sunny day when Jake seated you on his car hood, fitting himself between your legs while his hands rested on your hips, drawing little circles there.

You both decided to go out that day to celebrate your new job. But instead of going for a fancy dinner or anything similar, you decided to follow the roots of your relationship and asked Jake to take you to see the sunset.

And he would never deny anything to you. So here you were, looking at the pretty sky behind Jake’s back when he himself was sunk on your neck.

"Why does the sky turn orange during sunsets?" You asked nonchalantly, feeling Jake's kisses on your skin. He was inebriated by your scent and acting as if he was getting drunk on you.

He loved that.

He loved you.

"It has something to do with the light traveling through the atmosphere. Don't make me do my homework right now, baby," he said muffled, unable to leave your warm embrace. You chuckled.

You loved that.

You loved him.

"Sorry," your fingers slid through his hair, scratching slightly. He hummed in response.

It’s been two weeks since you started to call him your boyfriend and he started to call you girlfriend, the honeyed voice always making you melt.

Nevertheless none of you said I love you yet. Not that you two needed to. You felt Jake’s love on every action of his. The way he would look at you so dreamily at any point of the day, how he would embrace you so tightly at the end of a stressful one. Or how he would always clean you up after the sex, even when he was tired as hell. He treated you like a goddess. You felt it.

It was as clear as crystal water that you loved him too, at least you thought.

You would purposely ask questions about astronomy just to have him speaking animatedly in technical terms that you often didn't understand very well, but loved to see him sparkle in joy. Or when you cooked his favorite meal just to see his puppy eyes widening in surprise and thank you with a sweet kiss. Or even when you watched him play video games for hours without complaining, actually enjoying and hyping him up, sometimes playing together when he asked you to.

Jake, actually, noticed every bit of it.

He himself making sure to love you every moment of his day, making sure you were safe, fed, warm, and most important: happy.

Jake loved your smile. He loved to see you ramble about your favorite songs and flowers and chocolates and movies and everything.

He loved everything about you.

You exhaled. The feeling was consuming you, you had to let it out. The ache of holding it to only your actions wasn't enough. You needed to say it.

And you did. In one go.

“I love you.”

Jake lifted his face off your neck to look you in the eyes, kind of shocked by your sudden statement. “I don’t care if you don’t love me back, but I love you. More than stargazing, more than feeling a cold breeze under the moonlight, more than listening to my favorite artist. None of those feelings overcomes the feeling of having you around,” you caressed his cheek. Jake listened to you with attention.

“You color my world by just being around. Every part I go I look out for you,” you could see Jake’s eyes watering. “And I do find you in everything, because, Jake, you became my everything. It’s scary how much I need you. It's scary how much I can love you,” you rested your forehead on his, closing your eyes. “So yeah, I love you,” you whispered at the end.

Jake's breath got heavy as he assimilated all your words.

God, he loved you as much as you did. Lately he had to deal with the urge of telling you the three words, afraid of scaring you off as always. But now he knows you are as much in love with him as he is with you, and he felt so damn lucky.

"You wanna know something that has nothing to do with physics?" Jake spoke softly after a while in silence trying to find the right words. You weren't expecting that question after your confession. "What?" you asked in a whisper.

He looked so gorgeous under the golden light.

"I can watch a hundred sunsets with you," he said softly, loving eyes at you. He gently put a strand of hair behind your ear, as usual, and continued, "And you’d still be the prettiest view."

Jake didn’t had to verbalize “I love you” after that, but he did.

He did it continuously. He did it before you went to sleep and when you woke up. He did it before leaving you at your classes and as soon as he picked you up. He did it out of the blue, while you were vacuuming your apartment and he was dusting the furniture. Because no matter how much he said, it didn't seem enough.

It was love at first sight, blessed by the moonlight keeping their love secrets and under the sunset light, keeping their sweet passion burning.

#jake smut #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #jake sim hard hours #jake sim hard thoughts #jake imagines #jake hard thoughts #jake hard hours #enhypen x reader #sim jake #enha smut #enhypen smut #heegyukeluv works

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ahundredtimesover · 8 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (10) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; mentions of childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; mention of implied of domestic violence (PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 20.6k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii we're close to the end! I've been enjoying this journey with all of you; thank you for being patient, and again for all your love and appreciation for this story. 🥰 Updates will continue to take longer as I continue to work and study. On another note, pls savour this! Hehe

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The weekend after your site visits passes by excruciatingly slowly.

You zone out while watching your variety shows the rest of Saturday. On Sunday, you do errands and clean your apartment. Whether you’re lying on the couch or moving about, you find yourself constantly stopping, wondering how Jungkook is doing.

You could say that the trip ended on a good note. The drive back home had you sharing both the silence and conversations about growing up with your friends and finding refuge in your favorite places. He was smiling as you narrated your stories and while he told his. He was engaged most of the time, drifting away for only some short moments before coming back to you.

There was a different emotion in his eyes when you said your goodbye after he dropped you off, though. You could see gratitude in them but also sadness, as if the memories from the night before and from 20 years ago lingered. You know enough about that, too. Good memories can override bad ones sometimes, but in some cases, they only do so for a while, and they can only do so much.

The image of him of looking afraid from that Friday night is etched in your mind. The way he heaved, how he gripped your wrists as if in desperation for the sounds to stop, and the emptiness in his eyes as the thunder continued to roar keep you up at night.

You felt so constrained at that moment. There wasn’t much you could do that would be appropriate, but it doesn’t mean that you didn’t wish you could’ve done something more to comfort him, to tell him that no matter how scared he was, he wasn’t alone. That night and the morning after, you saw the most human side of Jungkook - the one that buries a lot of memories, that deals with pain and loneliness, the part that’s fearful of others seeing him stripped bare, that cowers in his own corner until the storm has passed. You saw him as someone who needs a companion but is too scared, maybe too stubborn to reach out. He looked familiar because he looked like you.

All you could do was hold him in any way, protect him from the monsters outside and maybe within, and show him that whatever hurt, gentleness could make it hurt less; hopefully it could slowly heal the ache, too.

That’s what you learned all these years - all the fear and pain you experienced as a child slowly turned into scars because of your mother’s grace and your best friends’ kindness. You don’t know who gives any of that to Jungkook, and you hoped that during that moment, you were able to give even just a fraction of what you received.

Even if he kept his distance, you stayed close because you knew that that’s when he needed you the most. And you won’t ever forget the way his eyes softened during that ride home; you won’t forget the smile tinged with apology and gratitude that accompanied the silence. You knew it was his way of expressing emotions he couldn’t verbalize and you could only wish that he knew that you accept them, that you understand.

You stop yourself from sending him messages a few times, not wanting to invade his space if he prefers to be alone. Maybe he’s figured out a way to cope. Maybe he’s moved on from the incident and wants to just forget about it. Regardless, the last thing you want is to push him away by being too close, so you do the hard thing and wait for the start of the week to see him again.

You enter the car that Monday morning with Mr. Ri’s soft eyes greeting you. You ask if he’s feeling better and he says he is, expressing his disappointment at not being there to drive you and Jungkook last week.

“How was he?” He asks, knowing that the weather was pretty bad.

“He wasn’t good,” you answer dejectedly. “I think he had a nightmare. I had to calm him down. And he… he told me what happened at that cabin when he was young. I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“It was. He was just a kid. He was only excited about the trip because he thought his parents were joining him and his brother,” the elder man says. “And well, that was when they had to be separated for safety reasons. Then that incident happened. I think he’s carried that resentment towards them ever since.”

“Were you there?”

“I was the one who found him,” Mr. Ri answers, baring his own pain at having witnessed a young Jungkook being so scared. “I noticed he was missing and I searched for over an hour. It was a big area and the ground was wet and I couldn’t hear him because of the rain. When I finally found him, I carried him back and stayed with him until he woke up. He was so frightened and he… he wasn’t the same after. There was this constant fear and this desire to just be left on his own.”

You force the scene of a young Jungkook yelling for someone under the rain out of your mind. Perhaps the detachment in his eyes that you always see is a remnant from that time when he’d felt so helpless and alone. You don’t know how someone can carry that with them for 20 years. You don’t know how someone heals from that either.

“I know he’s not your responsibility, ___. You’ve done so much for him already,” Mr. Ri continues in your silence. “But no one has shown him kindness the way you have and he's learned to accept that now. He needs it the most during those times. If it’s not too much, I hope you can continue doing that.”

“I intend to,” you respond. It had been natural for you to be gentle, to be patient, and reluctant he may have been at the start, you know your persistence helped him as well. “He’s done so much for me and I don’t think I’ll ever get to thank him for that.”

“Is that why, then?” He wonders. “Is all this just to repay him for the times he was there for you? Or is there another reason?”

You meet his eyes in the rear view mirror and the sullen, almost guilty look in yours tells him that there's more. When you look away, he learns it’s something you don’t want to accept, something you don’t want to acknowledge.

“It’s okay, you know?” He says, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking and maybe he does. “We can’t help what we feel sometimes.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s always wrong.”

“You know it’s not that simple,” you sigh.

“I know it isn’t. But I just think that being honest about what you feel helps. It may not be easy but you owe it to yourself to find the happiness you deserve.”

“But I don’t know what that looks like.”

“You do,” he insists. “Maybe you’re just scared of what chasing it would mean. But if you allow yourself to truly feel what you feel, then it would be clear what you’d need to do. Just remember that whatever decision you make, you’re gonna have to stand by it, okay? You can’t regret any of it.”

You let his words settle, knowing that they come from a place of pain. But still, you ask a question you’ve been meaning to for a while now.

“Do you regret the decision you made back then?”

Mr. Ri prolongs the silence. He doesn’t meet your eyes when he answers.

“Everyday.”

Your heart breaks for him. You know what he did all those years ago, and knowing that it continues to haunt him pains you. You don’t want that burden. You don’t want one decision to determine how the rest of your life is gonna go with no way to make up for it. You suppose that’s what will happen to you, but you’ve got time to change all that. Maybe you just need the courage to do it.

“The debt I owed kept me from chasing my happiness,” he continues. “You’ve paid yours so don’t let it stop you. You just have to be brave enough for it.”

You nod, meeting his eyes through the mirror this time in understanding and gratitude, letting his words comfort you as you exit the car.

You walk towards Jungkook’s penthouse in anticipation, as the worry of how he’s been creeps in again. The moment you enter, you get your answer, as you hear the sound of leather hitting leather, the loudest it’s ever been. You could hear him heaving, almost breathless with every movement, but he grunts in between, and you hear the frustration in his every breath.

From your position in the kitchen, you can see him in the far right corner of his gym, throwing one punch after another, his face wincing in pain, his body gradually giving in as he slows down. He hugs the punching bag with one arm while his free hand continues to jab at it until eventually, that stops, too. He releases it then spreads his body out on the floor as he tries to catch his breath now. You can feel his exhaustion; there’s desperation, too.

He stays there for a while, and you wonder if he’s releasing whatever negative emotions he’s had these past days just now, or if this is what he’s been doing everyday since he got back.

He sits up, and you look away the moment he glances at your direction. He heads your way, nods at you in acknowledgment, then gulps down the energy drink that he takes from the fridge. His drenched white shirt sticks to his body, but it’s his bruised knuckles that catch your attention. You don’t know if these wounds are from this morning or from the days before but regardless, he acts as if they’re not there. You doubt if he even feels them sting.

Perhaps this is how he copes with anything - tiring himself out, expending all his energy until he’s numb, releasing his emotions in a way that doesn’t require him to be honest or to even say anything. Maybe this is how he accepts; maybe it’s how he moves on and forgets.

He drags himself towards his bedroom then you make your way to his closet to prepare his clothes. You return to the kitchen soon after and decide to make some fried rice. It’s the one dish you make that might make a difference to his mood this morning, so you get to work and cook with what you can, deciding that it’s definitely one of the most delicious ones you’ve ever made.

He finishes his morning routine later than usual. When you walk towards him to fix his tie, you try to hold his gaze, wanting to tell him in your own way that you’re there if he ever wants to talk, but he only glances at you before looking away. You’re unsure of the cause of his somber disposition but the sadness in his eyes causes a crack in your heart. It’s different, you think, and you don’t know how else you can comfort him.

“I made some fried rice,” you tell him as you walk to the dining table.

He follows, taking his seat then quietly eating his meal as you go through his schedule. He merely hums and doesn’t ask questions, only speaking up when you bring up last week’s site visits, with him saying that there’s no rush for that, and that you’ll talk about it some other time. It’s what tells you that what happened last Friday isn’t something he’s really gotten over. Maybe there are still remnants from that night - of fear, of discomfort; perhaps a bit of shame. And you don’t blame him. They’re what you felt after the incident at the restaurant and after your injury. Being helpless in front of someone is confronting; there’s so much of yourself that gets exposed, and you suppose it’s not something that Jungkook is used to.

You share in the silence, glancing at him to see if what you’ve prepared is affecting him in any way, and you don’t miss the subtle satisfied look he makes once he finishes his meal. It’s what prompts you to push it a little. You stand up, take an ice pack from the fridge, then retrieve the first-aid kit from the drawer. Taking a seat next to him, you lay your palm out on the table, gesturing for him to give you his hands to treat.

“There’s no need,” he says, turning away again.

“I let you push my wheelchair,” you remind him. “And I let you dress my foot.”

“You were injured.”

“And you have gashes on your hands,” you point out. “Which means you’re wounded and you can’t leave those exposed. So please, would you let me do this for you?”

There’s a hint of desperation in your voice, as if all you want is for him to give in and let you help him. You’ve been trying to meet his eyes since you arrived and he’s been the coward who avoids it every time. But the last thing he wants is for you to think that he wants to push you away because he doesn’t; he just doesn’t know how to act around you after what happened last Friday. It may have ended with your unspoken forgiveness and your smile telling him that he’ll be alright, that you’ll be alright, but the past days haven’t been good to him.

In an effort to show you that he’s not angry, he moves his hand towards yours ever so slightly. He doesn’t look at you when you take his left hand and put it over your palm, but he does feel his heart skip a beat at your touch. You place the ice pack over his knuckles, then you move it over to his other hand so you can put antiseptic cream on the one that’s free.

You’re so gentle with him even when tending to his wounds. But that shouldn’t come as a surprise, especially now, as he sees you make an effort in letting him know that everything’s okay and that you’re around in case he needs anything.

The thing is, he doesn’t know what he needs right now. After last week’s incident when he blamed you for not checking the weather, he felt ashamed. He’d apologized for how he used to treat you right before that, and then he went ahead and did all that again over a fear of his that he couldn’t get over, one that came to light that night.

You saw it all - that part of him that he despises, that he keeps hidden, that he’s burdened by.

That was another thing - you were the one who woke him up and kept him steady. Perhaps it was a nightmare he was having, but it’s also always been the way his body reacted to the rain and the thunder because of what happened when he was a child. But you saw him bare and terrified, a side of him he wasn’t sure you’d want to see or be around for. You saw him weak and helpless, things he never wants to be in front of other people. You experienced him being honest and not in control, and that made him feel unguarded.

You held him steady though, grounding him when he was slowly losing himself to the fear. Your hands on his head kept him in the present, pulling him back when his mind would travel to that fateful rainy evening in the woods. Your calm and soft voice sounded like a lullaby to him, fighting away the loud sounds that have haunted him for years. It soothed parts of him that were hurting, and you’d done it so naturally, so easily.

It’s what prompted him to share with you the memory he just can’t erase. And you told him that he could call you when it happened again so you can both replace the bad memories with good ones. Maybe you want him to be brave; he thinks that’s not something that he is.

Maybe that’s why he’s been this way since he got home that day. There’s a lot of emotion he doesn’t know how to express nor even properly name. He’s sure they’re negative though, and somehow that makes him even more ashamed. He doesn’t like not being in control. He doesn’t like being that bare and uninhibited, especially in front of you, the only person he doesn’t want to scare away.

He spent the entire weekend boxing and running around the Han River parks in hopes that all the tiredness would help keep his mind off things. But somehow, it always ended up thinking of you. It wanted to hear your voice once more; it wanted your touch.

He has them again today and he feels undeserving. Yet you’re here, healing his physical wounds and everything else that’s hurting within in the ways only you know how to. And he just wants to pull you close. He realizes now that even on days when he hates himself, you’re the one he wants to be around. Somehow you make that hate a little less than before.

“All done,” you say after placing the fabric bandage on his knuckles. “Minimal movements, okay? And ice them when you can in case something’s swollen.”

“I will,” he says softly, retrieving his hand and feeling your touch still linger, knowing he wants more of it.

You proceed to discuss some events he needs to attend all the way to the office with no mentions of how either of your weekends went. He wonders how you spent yours, hoping it was better than his. He wonders, too, if you thought about him the way he thought about you. But you seem focused on work matters for today, perhaps thinking he doesn’t want to talk about anything else. And you wouldn’t be wrong.

He gets to his room where he sighs in relief once he sits on his desk chair. It’s now that he feels the soreness and fatigue, as all he wants is to go home and lay in bed for the rest of the day. But he can’t afford that, so he pushes on, surviving a morning meeting and slowly going through each of his emails. He’s surprised when you serve him his favorite beef brisket for lunch, and your soft smile as he thanks you is his bright spot for the rest of the afternoon.

He powers through reviewing documents right after but his eyes start falling, prompting him to just lean back on his chair for a good few seconds before getting back to work. You knock on the door not long after, and then you place a cup of chamomile tea on his desk.

“I need about five espresso shots, Ms. Cho, not this,” he sighs, the tiredness in his voice evident. But you don’t seem taken aback by his words.

“I disagree, sir,” you reply. “This is to help you calm down. There’s also a couch right there. There’s a reason why it’s big and comfortable.”

He picks up on what you’re suggesting, and he shakes his head in response.

“I’m not gonna sleep here.”

“No one will know,” you shrug. “But you know it’s okay, right? I can’t imagine how tired you must be. You’re not Superman, Mr. Jeon. Plus, Mr. Jung would take naps here after long nights or during hectic days. It’s normal. And it might just be what you need.”

“I’ll decide what I need, Ms. Cho,” he says defensively. “I wouldn’t want my staff sleeping on the job so why should I?”

Jungkook regrets the words right as he says them, especially when he sees your face fall the tiniest bit. But you recover, saying that you understand then turning to head out. But you fix the pillow on the couch and place the blanket on the armrest before leaving, and he knows that your stubbornness is often a reflection of how you care.

So he takes a sip of the tea and eventually finishes it, indulging you in this way, but given the morning he’s had, his body gives in. He decides, like you said, that he needs a nap, and he doesn’t miss the victorious smile on your face that he sees from inside when he calls to instruct you not to disturb him for the next half hour.

With the dim lights and air purifier, he falls asleep right as his body hits the couch. When he wakes up 30 minutes later, he feels infinitely better; now he can focus and be productive.

You see the lights turn back on from outside and it’s your signal that he’s woken up from his nap. You wait a while before asking to enter his room to say that his father requested a meeting due to start in an hour. Jungkook’s putting his coat back on and you walk towards him to help.

“Was it good?” You ask, fixing the creases and aligning his necktie.

“Yeah,” he hums, not meeting your eyes again. “You were right, I needed that. And the couch really is comfortable.”

“That’s good. You should listen to your assistant more often,” you tease.

“I really should,” he smiles now, soft and reserved. “But I do feel better. Thank you.”

You exit his room and feel accomplished. You believe, like what others have told you, that showing him a bit of gentleness will prompt him to be a little gentler to himself, too. He works too hard sometimes, and taking a break when he needs it is one thing, but of course, it’s not everything.

The rest of the week goes by fairly similarly. Jungkook always looks tired, and it makes you wonder if he’s able to sleep properly at night or if he just overexerts himself during his morning workouts. He’s quiet when you’re not discussing work matters, making you miss your casual conversations. And though he acknowledges your occasional teasing remark, he doesn’t tease back like he’s been doing recently.

He has his moments of frustration but he’s mostly serious when you glance at him. He’s less engaging, too, and you suppose that’s what bothers you the most, as you realize that you enjoy talking with him, you enjoy getting to know him through your exchanges, allowing you a peek into his world that you know is reserved for very, very few people.

You suppose that whatever he’s dealing with is something he wants to go through on his own. Accepting your fears is one thing; accepting that you exposed all those to someone else is another. It’s why you try, in your own ways, to lift his spirits, wanting to let him know that he has nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to you.

You get him lunch from his favorite restaurants everyday, you add sweets to his servings of coffee or chocolate milk, you smile at him more, encourage him frequently, and during the times when he seems distant, you don’t completely move away. You reach out just a little bit, hoping that he’ll know that you’re around even when he doesn’t feel much like himself. You don’t want to match his detachment with your own.

It seems that you got your point across. On Friday, he dismisses you after he insists that he wants to stay back to work on a few things.

“___,” he calls out as you’re about to exit his room. “Thank you for being patient with me this week. I… I needed that.”

You turn around and Jungkook doesn’t shy away from meeting your eyes this time. He’s noticed you try to hold his gaze all week; you always lingered, too. Maybe it’s your way of comforting him or saying that you understand him. He felt both of those but he couldn’t find it in him to acknowledge them. There was a lot on his mind as he dealt with the frustration and shame of what happened, of how exposed and unguarded he was in front of you.

But you didn’t complain; you didn’t push him to engage or share anything. Even his moments of frustration were met with kindness and his silence was received with assurance. You tried to cheer him up in whatever way you could, and he could feel you just giving him time to be on his own.

He hopes he didn’t push you away. There were so many times when he just wanted you around so he could see more of your smile and hear the calmness of your voice; those always made him feel better. Whatever fears he had about how you would think of him after the incident have dissipated, as you look softly at him in understanding. He doesn’t need to say anything more, as you seem to know exactly what he means because this whole time, you seemed to also know exactly what he needed.

“I hope you’re feeling better, Jungkook,” you smile. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Jungkook returns to his usual self the week after. He says he went to one of their properties in Gwangju over the weekend where the weather was good and the long drive helped him stay focused and rejuvenated. He doesn’t say much of what he’s feeling and you expect that, but you’re glad his little trip gave him some peace somehow.

You, on the other hand, were left to deal with your growing feelings for him while downplaying them to your best friends. They came over for their regular visit on Saturday and while they were sympathetic with Jungkook over what happened, they still reminded you to be cautious. Once you cross a line, there’s no going back, and once you fully admit to what you feel, you can’t unfeel it; not acting on it becomes too hard and in your case, complicated.

The week is like any other but with much anticipation, given the upcoming annual team building that everyone’s excited about. This is one of the things that the support team was worried wouldn’t happen under Jungkook’s leadership, but you assured them early on that it was mandatory. And with him having loosened up and feeling more comfortable around them, you have high hopes that he’ll enjoy it as much as everyone will.

It’s why on that Saturday, you find yourself in the mall to buy the things that you’ll be needing for those three days that you’ll be spending in one of the Jeon properties in Gangwon. The venue changes every year and the villas by the lake are perfect for spring this time. Your shopping list includes all the materials for the activities and some other things Jungkook requested, like a certain book that he doesn’t have time to buy.

You enter a bookstore and as you try to find what you’re looking for, something else catches your eye. You may love the library for the space more than the books, but there will always be those that pull you in and make you curious. Even if you only read picture books when you were younger, there were a few short stories and poems that piqued your interest. You never finished them but you did manage to get through several pages.

The one right in front of you - with its pastel colored cover and simple yet intriguing design - feels like one of those. To your delight, it’s a short story collection, and your smile is immediate as you go through the pages, with each story being accompanied by illustrations that feel so personal. This would be a nice read while you’re lounging at the villa’s deck or even on your balcony, you think.

Another book catches your attention. The title is familiar, and you realize it’s one of the classics that you were required to read in high school. It has a new cover, and you see that it’s a new edition to celebrate its 30th year. You go through the pages as well, thinking back to when you had to force yourself to finish this some 15 years ago. It looks more fresh now, and definitely more enticing.

“Did you find what you’re looking for?”

You look up to find a tall man with deep-set eyes as the owner of the voice who’d interrupted your moment of book appreciation.

“I’m okay,” you dismiss him. “I don’t need assistance.”

You politely smile then return the books in their respective spots, ready to head out and search for what you came here to buy.

“Are you not going to get those?” The man presses. “You seemed to be interested in them and—”

“Were you watching me?” You ask, taken aback.

“Uh, no. I mean, not in the way you think,” he answers in panic, seemingly nervous at how it looks. “I wasn’t being creepy or anything I just… I…”

“Do you even work here?” You interrogate him, your alarm bells ringing at this man’s odd behavior and the absence of a nameplate that the other staff have on.

“I actually work for the company that published those books,” he says, his head down as if in embarrassment. “And we just put those out this week and I’m checking around to see people’s reaction and I realize now that it’s incredibly foolish of me to stand around and observe customers because it’s not only creepy, it’s also terribly disrespectful. I’m so sorry.”

There’s guilt in his eyes and it’s something you can recognize. You decide he’s being sincere and engage him a little.

“So… you work at Rkive Publishing?” You ask as you glance at the books. “As what?”

“I’m an editor, actually,” he answers, revealing his shy smile and dimples. “I’ve spent months on these books and thought, what better way to know people’s impression than to see them for myself? It seemed better in my head. I guess I wasn’t being subtle.”

“No, not really. I was kinda having a moment but then you popped out of nowhere,” you say, laughing to ease the tension. “But uh, the covers are stunning. I liked the personal touch of the short story collection and this classic looks a lot more interesting than I remember.”

“That’s uh, that’s good,” he grins, mostly to himself. “Our production team did really well in putting them together and to see the final products is incredibly satisfying, even more so when customers feel the same.”

“I don’t really read books but these just caught my eye. It’s a good way to pull people in,” you admit.

“That’s nice to know,” he smiles again. “I feel pretty fulfilled just knowing they got your attention. Even if you won’t buy them.”

He doesn’t seem like he’s guilt-tripping you but he still apologizes for how it sounds.

“I just… feel really strongly about how these pieces connect with people, even if it’s fleeting,” the man continues. “I just got over excited but thank you for not shunning me away.”

“I don’t think connections are fleeting, though,” you remark, surprising him and even yourself. “Even if it’s a thought or a memory or an impression… they stay with you in one way or another. I mean, every time I enter a bookstore, I’ll probably think about those covers and remember these books and maybe the excitement I felt. That’s still something, isn’t it?”

There’s appreciation in the man’s eyes as he takes in your words.

You may not be a book nerd nor an artsy person but you’ve been more introspective lately about the things around you. You don’t know if it’s the desperation to relate with anything and everything but if there’s one thing that working on the Arts Center has pushed you to do, it’s that pursuit of connection - with your surroundings, with people, and with yourself. You suppose that’s where all this is coming from, and the stranger in front of you whom you’re somehow connecting with right now understands that.

“It is something,” he flashes a smile again, the joy in it radiating and softening his very manly features. “That’s very reassuring, thank you.”

He steps aside and nods, perhaps giving you the space that he thinks he invaded, which in hindsight, you’re glad he did.

You bow in acknowledgment and head towards another aisle to look for that leadership book that Jungkook asked you to get. You immediately find it then make your way home, all the while thinking about your earlier encounter and how the briefest conversations can make you reflect about things and as you learn, lead you down a path you didn’t expect.

To appease your curiosity, you research about Rkive Publishing and learn that it’s a ten-year old company that works with up-and-coming local authors. It has also taken on special projects such as publishing classics for their milestone releases and some translated works. The man you met, who happens to be the editorial director, is a poet as well but apparently finds as much happiness in putting pieces out for people to enjoy as he does in writing them himself. He doesn’t seem that much older than you but he’s seen the world and in the eyes of an artist, you can’t imagine how beautiful and heartbreaking that must be.

You go down a rabbit hole of reading some of his poems and even some interviews he’d done when he set up the company years ago. You learn that he loves to write about the complexity of relationships, the fragility of human emotions, and the search for permanence in an impermanent world.

His words are captivating. You want to pick apart his brain to know more about what he thinks about humans’ need for connection despite our fear of them. You want to know what makes love the way it is, why it creates and sustains and ruins those who feel and have them. You want to know if he thinks that each person is capable of love, if that’s what makes us human, or if our humanness derives from the inadequacy of love - of what we give and what we receive.

You read a bit more about the books they’ve published and the authors they’ve worked with over the years. It’s midnight by the time you finish, and other than deciding that you’ll go back tomorrow to buy that short story book collection, one other thing fills your mind - the thought that there’s a reason for that encounter earlier, and it’s probably to lead you to finding this company and the production officer position that happens to be currently vacant.

The soft eyes that greet you from across the table where the books are placed is a welcome sight this time. The man from yesterday flashes you a shy smile and you greet him with your own.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon but I’m glad that you’re here,” he says as he approaches you.

You raise the book you intend to buy. “Connections aren’t fleeting,” you remind him. “I couldn’t really stop thinking about this since yesterday. And uh, curiosity got to me and I looked up Rkive Publishing. You’re doing great work. I read that you’re working on translations of several books, too.”

His eyes light up as he talks about wanting to attract a wider audience, given the increasing interest in Korean culture. The story of your people appeals to many because it’s shared, and he says that’s one beauty of art in whatever form - the meanings are endless, and they weave together to form something enduring and constant. That’s what he and his mother hoped for the company when they founded it a decade ago, he narrates, and he has the tough task of creating that avenue for such art to affect more people without diluting its meaning.

“I’m sorry, I’m rambling again,” he shakes his head. “I just get so… yeah. I’ve just never met a buyer who actually searched us up after seeing our books on the shelf. I’m trying to engage more people. Our sales team said that’s one way to establish our presence.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you assure him. “I may not be as passionate about anything as you but I understand feeling strongly about something. And if I’m being honest… there’s another thing that caught my eye about your company.”

“What is it?”

“You have an opening for the production officer position. I… I was impressed and looked up career options.”

“Ah, so you’re interested then?” He asks excitedly.

“I am. Although I don’t have any experience in publishing or anything related to books or literature for that matter.”

“Relevant experience is the qualification,” he hums. “I’d ask more but I can do so during the interview. What do you say?”

“That’s if I’ll make the shortlist,” you laugh. “Although I suppose my executive assistant experience is relevant enough.”

“Oh, it definitely is. That is no easy task.”

“Well, I hope meeting you like this won’t make any future application inappropriate,” you say.

“Not at all. That position has been vacant for a while. And we’re looking for two. It’s not always the role that those in the industry go for. I suppose it’s made for those looking for a career change,” he playfully winks. “But seriously though, think of this encounter as part of the process. You’ve done your research about us anyway, which kind of means you’re already a step ahead. It’s only a matter of actually applying, which I hope you do.”

“It’s an option,” you hum. “This wasn’t something I initially considered but it’s amazing how certain moments shape our decisions, isn’t it? I mean, they’re not really fleeting.”

“Of course,” he nods, thinking back to your comment from yesterday. “It’s all about being open, so please think about it. I may not know anything about your credentials but talking with you has already given me insight into what you think about our work and the power of stories. And that’s very important to me.”

“I still have a lot going on but I’ll definitely keep you in mind. I hope the position is still open when the time comes.”

“If it’s meant to be then it will be,” he assures you. “I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“I know,” you giggle, taking the business card that he hands out. “And I’m ___. I’ll see you around.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you head out the store with your purchased book in hand. And as you lay in bed that night, the possibilities of taking on a new journey play in your mind.

There’s the connection to the good memories of your childhood and the unloading of the burdens you carry. There’s being around people you’re not tied or indebted to and there’s forging your own way towards a path that you deliberately chose.

But there’s also Jungkook, whom you can’t stop thinking about and who happens to be a hindrance when it comes to pursuing your own goals in life. Those goals include happiness and freedom even if ironically, those are the things he also gives you. There’s the new emotions he makes you feel, the connection you can’t deny you have with him, and the desire that constantly eats you up inside.

You’ve always had your feet inside your walls with your hand on the door, just waiting for the courage to finally step out. The only thing stopping you is Jungkook and all the other possibilities with him. They may remain unrealized but they’re there. You just hope that one day you’ll convince yourself that walking away from him was exactly the thing you had to do.

You watch in awe as Yohan loads the last crate of food in the rented van you’ll be using for this weekend’s team building in some lakeside property in Gangwon. The trunk is filled with all sorts of meat and vegetables, chips, and alcohol that seem to be good for a tribe of more than 10, way more than your team of seven.

“You do know we’re only there for three days, right?” You remind the younger man. “I don’t think we eat this much.”

“Don’t you know Do-hyun?” Yohan says. “She’s half my size but she eats twice as much as I do. And I eat a lot. Plus, the guy she was seeing ghosted her so she’s probably gonna eat even more. Heartbreak shit, you know?”

“I don’t,” you chuckle, although you can’t help but feel bad again for Do-hyun whom you had to comfort not long ago because of her boy problems. “But are you sure these are all within budget?”

“Yes. Chin-sun is a master at bargaining. And, because we’re such a good team, Mr. Min and Mr. Jung gave us some of their favorite liquor,” Yohan hums satisfyingly. “Those smell expensive. So yeah, we didn’t have to spend much on alcohol since Mr. Jeon brought some, too, which is why we got to buy all this food.”

“Fine, but we can’t have drunken shenanigans, okay? I don’t have the energy to babysit you guys. And Mr. Jeon is no weakling; he’ll be awake to see you misbehave if you do.”

“We’ll go as far as incredibly out-of-tune karaoke singing, we promise,” Yohan laughs, learning his lesson after last year’s midnight swim in the freezing cold river where he almost got swept away.

Hoseok was thankfully passed out and did not witness the almost-emergency. You had to remind your team that though you’ll be going on a team-building - which is really just an excuse for the staff to eat and drink in some scenic venue - there are still rules in place, and it would be best not to give Jungkook any problem, given the progress that you’ve all made.

You enter the car then leave the office - your meet up place - to take the long drive to your destination. You just got the message from Mr. Ri that they’re almost there; they left much earlier so that Jungkook could make it to a virtual meeting with Hoseok and his father.

The ride starts off peaceful, as everyone is still slowly waking up. Halfway through, it becomes chaotic, with Do-hyun and Yohan arguing about who’ll be on cleaning duties on which days as the youngest ones on the team. You laugh along, knowing you’ll end up helping them anyway, but you look out the window and wonder how Jungkook is doing.

He’s been incredibly busy leading to today, with several site visits to the Arts Center and meetings with the project teams multiple times the past two weeks. He’s been staying late in the office, too, and working on the weekends. You know, because you get the odd-hour emails and find portfolios on your desk in the morning. Despite the work that he still has to squeeze in during this weekend, you hope he gets a bit of rest. More than that, you hope he finds time to be with the team and bond with them. Only you know this may be your last, and you want to keep the memories of these three days and make sure they’re good ones.

You arrive at the place and look around, amazed at every corner and every space you set your eyes on. You know that the Jeon family has dozens of properties in scenic locations that they escape to or put out for rent. This lakeside estate is one of a few you haven’t been to yet, and there’s a reason why Jungkook wanted this to be your venue this year. It’s spacious with lots of things to do and the view is absolutely stunning. Lush mountains frame the sparkling body of water, and with the breeze of spring, it’s every bit relaxing as you hoped.

It’s quiet as the rest of the team walks around in awe. The main house boasts of a large kitchen and living space and it’s surrounded by four two-bedroom villas with their own decks. You, Chin-sun, and Do-hyun head to one while Yohan and Manager Lee head to another. You give yourselves half an hour to fix up before reconvening and when you do, you immediately smile upon seeing Jungkook already waiting.

He greets the team, formally welcomes you all, then talks about the property and all its amenities. He discusses what’s in store for these next three days, then he proceeds with the first activity, which is really the only work-related thing you’re all required to do.

Jungkook facilitates the session, and he starts by asking everyone to reflect on all the gains and challenges this past year. He instructs each of you to share your team highs and lows, what enabled you to achieve the successes and overcome the difficulties, what caused you the most stress, and what you’re most thankful for. Every answer is met with confirming nods and statements, and it seems that everyone is on the same page about how the year went.

The session highlights your team dynamics - you’re all very encouraging of each other, but it doesn’t stop the young ones from bickering and teasing the rest of you. It’s fun though, as you end the hour with laughter and more memories to take with you. You glance at Jungkook who seems satisfied with every response; you hope he’s proud of how he managed everything, too, and you make sure you mention it during your turn. The smile he makes when everyone agrees warms your heart in a way you don’t expect, even more so when he holds your gaze when he thanks the team in return.

You’re rewarded with a hearty lunch an hour later, and not long after, you find yourselves near the deck of the lake, discussing how to spend your two hours of free time before the next activity.

Chin-sun and Manager Lee decide on just laying on the lounge chairs to soak up the sun. Yohan gets on a jet-ski while Do-hyun flounders about in the lake. Sipping your beer, you lean on one of the tables and savor the fresh air.

There’s not much of this in the city, and the silence - save for the young ones’ laughter in the background - is definitely worth the long ride and the backlog you’ll be having once the weekend is over. You’re not really one to stay outdoors. You’d much rather stay inside, under the covers where you could watch movies or variety shows. That was always how you preserved your peace. Being outside always intimidated you, and you think now it’s probably because you just haven’t seen that many beautiful views like this in your life. If this is what’s outside your window everyday, you’d probably be out all the time.

“___, are you just gonna stay there? The water’s amazing,” Do-hyun whines as she approaches you. “Or sunbathe if you don’t want to get wet. Just get out there.”

“I’m content just watching you enjoy yourselves,” you say. “I can see the view just fine from here.”

“It’s much better up close,” she counters, standing next to you now. “Come on, this is your time to let loose since you have the permission to do so. Mr. Jeon isn’t gonna be a killjoy and watch your every move, you know? If he will, then I will…”

“You will what?” You laugh.

“I will tell him he’s being a killjoy. How often can we be in a place as beautiful as this?”

“Do-hyun’s right,” Jungkook says as he appears to your left, catching both of you off guard and prompting Do-hyun to sweetly smile at him. He’s in shorts and a loose long-sleeve shirt, perhaps ready to enjoy the outdoors as well. “The place is too beautiful for you to just sit back and watch.”

“And what will you do?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Sit back and watch,” he shrugs, earning him a laugh from you and Do-hyun. “And enjoy my beer. That’s how I relax.”

“Please don’t be boring,” Do-hyun pouts at him, embracing that little sister energy that you’ve all come to love. “You should know, Mr. Jeon, Yohan is being all cocky, saying that he’s the best jet ski rider among all of us here. I have a feeling that he’s wrong, so please show him who’s boss. I mean, you are, obviously. But, you know what I mean.”

“I think I do,” Jungkook chuckles, putting down his drink and looking out into the lake. “But sure. I haven’t ridden one in a while but let’s see how I go.”

Jungkook walks towards the water then unknots the other jet ski. He removes his shirt and wears the life vest before riding towards where Yohan is. The view of him half-naked triggers memories of all the times you’ve seen him like that, times when you’d look away and keep yourself from thinking inappropriate thoughts. It’s no different this time, but somehow, it’s much harder to keep your heart from racing this fast.

“Holy fuck,” Do-hyun gasps next to you. “Please don’t report me but shit, ___. Whoever’s doing Mr. Jeon is one lucky woman. I mean, look at that. And who knew he had a full sleeve of tattoo? That is so freaking hot.”

From your periphery, you could see her shocked face but you merely hum in response. You don’t want to get carried away by your own expletives because there really aren’t enough curses in the dictionary when it comes to describing Jungkook’s body.

“You don’t seem surprised,” she looks at you curiously. “And you’re not affected. You’ve seen it before, haven’t you?”

“Of course I have. I’m with him everyday,” you say nonchalantly.

“In clothes, I would assume.”

“He works out every morning and he’s in sleeveless tops sometimes,” you clarify. “Obviously I’ve seen his arm.”

She furrows her brows as if she doesn’t believe you, even if you’re telling the truth. There are just other parts of that story that you don’t want to share.

“Hmm, fair enough,” she gives in. “But I’d probably be constantly flustered or even crushing on him if I were you. So how have you managed being around him and not being attracted all this time knowing he looks like that?”

You’re forced to look at Do-hyun, as you try to find the words to say, when she answers her own question.

“Right, he can be quite detached and too serious and he’s a playboy and—”

“You also forget that I am his assistant and he is my boss,” you remind her. “Thoughts like that—”

“Are perfectly normal,” she interjects. “And totally understandable. He’s a hot bachelor, ____. I wouldn’t be able to function professionally if I were in your shoes. Which is why it’s great that I’m here and you’re the one in that position.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I might lose this job if I lose my shit every time because my boss is so hot,” she reasons. “And it’s not just me. I’ve seen the female staff lose their cool around him just because he spoke to them or looked their way. It’s kind of embarrassing. But I guess the broody, asshole-y vibes add to that. And then there’s you who’s in his apartment every morning and heavens know what you’ve seen or heard since we all know that the rumors about his dating life are true and you seem fine and totally unbothered.”

You want to laugh at how completely off Do-hyun is with her observations. Sure, you tried to be cool about it at the beginning and you mostly succeeded in being calm whenever you came close or saw any part of his body exposed.

But somewhere along the way, things changed. When you saw the layers underneath, he wasn’t just attractive physically; he was suddenly so much more. That somehow made it harder but it also made all the restraint worth it. But that’s not something you want to divulge to Do-hyun. No matter how difficult, you know you need to keep yourself together and stop the feelings from going any deeper.

“Well, just like you, I can’t lose my job and I will if I let it affect me,” you say. “But if I may say so… there’s definitely more to the broody, serious man we met almost a year ago.”

“Hmm, I guess that’s true. He’s definitely more thoughtful than I expected. Maybe a little funny, too. But that’s really all I know. He just seems too reserved, you know? Seeing him do something like ride a jet ski or laugh with us feels like such a luxury for a man like him,” Do-hyun adds. “It must be hard to get to know him beyond all this. I know it sure is hard to love someone like that.”

You know that Do-hyun’s merely projecting. The recent guy she was seeing was a lot more shy and private than the ones she’s dated before. But she got him to open up and she thought that was it, that she’d broken through his walls and they’d be permanently down for her, only to realize it wasn’t the case. He was distant for a few days and she tried to get through again only for him to completely shut her out; she hasn’t heard from him in weeks.

It’s probably why you agree. People who keep their distance and disengage whenever they want are hard to love. You’d know because you’re like that. It hits you hard knowing that Jungkook is probably the same.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you and Do-hyun watch Jungkook and Yohan outride one another, splashing each other with water and screaming in excitement when they speed up. Seeing this other side of Jungkook does something to you again, and the sight of his smile as he dries his hair while teasing Yohan triggers the butterflies in your belly.

He approaches you - thankfully with his shirt on this time - and you suddenly feel too hot. He tells you that the water’s nice and you should get in, but you’re too self-conscious now, so you compromise and say you’ll just dip your feet in the water while you sit on the steps that lead down to the lake.

That’s how you spend the rest of the hour, as Chin-sun, Manager Lee, and Do-hyun join Yohan in swimming while Jungkook stays back, watching you all from afar. You glance at him a few times and he catches your eyes. He lifts his can in cheers and you do the same. He heads to where you are some time after with five cans of beer then walks back to his room, and you suddenly miss his presence. You wish he was next to you, perhaps laughing or talking about something random or just sitting with you in silence. You’ve learned that last bit brings you a lot of comfort and peace; the view somehow isn’t as beautiful when you aren’t sharing it with him.

It’s an hour later, after having dried and fixed up, when you’re all on the basketball court to start the next activity that Mr. Ri prepared. Divided into teams of two, each pair is assigned a path that leads to either the mountain, the woods, or the stream to find bags of coins needed to “purchase” materials to create a science experiment-type water rocket. It’s meant to practice your communication and problem-solving skills with those you work most closely with, which is why Chin-sun and Do-hyun, and Manager Lee and Yohan are paired up respectively while you, of course, end up with Jungkook.

“The caretakers and I spent all morning preparing this game, so please take it seriously,” Mr Ri says. “And bond with each other while you’re at it.”

You see the competitiveness in the young ones’ eyes, especially when it’s announced that there’s a prize for the winners, and you like the energy. Being Jungkook’s partner, you know it’s just about completing the task and somehow, it’s the bonding bit that makes you nervous. You already know you’re going to like it, which is precisely why it terrifies you.

“There are ATVs for each team which you will ride to the start of the path. You’ll have to go by foot when you get there or else you’ll miss the bags of coins,” Mr. Ri instructs. “You have walkie-talkies to reach me in case you get lost but please don’t. And try to be back here in an hour. All clear?”

You all express your acknowledgement and he signals the start. The other teams rush to their rides and quickly drive off while you and Jungkook stroll to yours.

He takes the helmet and puts it on you, and he laughs again like he did at the Arts Center months ago before riding the vehicle.

“I should’ve expected that,” you pout.

“Which?”

“That you’ll laugh at me again.”

“It looks cute on you,” he says casually before riding the vehicle.

Your eyes widen at his words and you’re glad he has his back turned on you. That way he can’t see the way you’re trying to hold your smile and suppress the giddy feeling at his remark. It makes it that much harder for you to climb up behind him though, but you manage, and you ensure there’s some distance between you and him, knowing how you tend to be when you get close.

Jungkook, on the other hand, internally smacks himself after he says the words. He didn’t mean for the thoughts in his head to actually come out. He’s glad he didn’t see your probably awkward expression, and that right now, he needs to focus on the road. That way, he can preoccupy himself with your safety and not his embarrassment.

He means it though. There’s something about you in a helmet that gets him, or even in anything oversized, like his jacket that he made you wear once. There’s also something about you wading in the water and laughing so freely that make his insides melt. Anything you do actually triggers something in him - a protective side, a care-free side; a side that wants to take a pause and bask in the scenery that includes you.

Now he has to act like he’s not affected with you sitting behind him as he drives the ATV down the rugged path. He feels you far from him, sitting close to the edge and holding onto the handles behind you. But as the road gets rockier, he starts to get worried.

“You should hold onto me,” he says, turning his head to the side so you could hear him before slowing down. “It’s safer that way.”

It takes a few seconds but he feels you move closer to him, your arms slowly wrapping around his torso. It’s a bit loose but it’s enough for his breathing to quicken.

“Is… is this okay?” You softly ask.

“Yeah,” he manages to say. “It’s a bit rocky out here so be careful. You can, uh, you can hold on tighter if you feel unstable.”

You hum in response but you maintain your position. He supposes you don’t know how bumpy it could be. It makes him worry and he wishes you’d grab onto him more only because he’s afraid you’d fall, and that’s exactly what happens after the first big bump.

You yelp, tightening your grip around him immediately. He feels his heart stop, unprepared to have your arms around his waist and your chest flushed against his back even if that’s what he’d suggested you do. He’s felt you close in several instances already, but each time feels different. It affects him the same way though - all he wants is to have you even closer.

But that’s not something he can think of right now, especially when you’re both alone, in a place that’s conducive to letting his inhibitions go.

It’s calm and peaceful out here. There’s a lot of open space but he enjoys it more when he’s looking at it from the comforts of the balcony or the deck. He always prefers to stay indoors because the outdoors somehow make him feel more constricted; he supposes that being trapped in the woods as a child would do that to anyone. He’s always just been a spectator, watching everything from behind the safety of his walls, knowing that he could feel a bit unsteady out there.

But ever since you got here and he’d seen you enjoy the surroundings, all he’s felt was the stability of having you near him. That, ironically, scares him, too. The more he’s comfortable with you, the more worried he becomes. So he settles on what he knows how to do - keeping you at a fair distance but creating moments here and there, only so you don’t think he’s pushing you away or detaching himself.

You decide to just hold onto Jungkook for safety purposes. You didn’t realize that the path towards the stream is this rocky, but you suppose it should be since you’re in the undeveloped part of the property. It's probably why he asked you to hold onto him; he’s your safety precaution and you know enough that he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

He’s steady and skilled in navigating the ATV, avoiding the big bumps and alerting you when there’s going to be one. It’s actually quite attractive. He feels so nice like this, with his soft hoodie and natural scent, and you have to pull away every once in a while so as not to get too comfortable. You can’t let yourself imagine this to be a possibility beyond today, you remind yourself. He can’t be someone you constantly seek, that you could fall into, even if that’s pretty much where you’re at at this point.

You reach the end of the road and Jungkook lets you get down first, instructing you to hold his arm for support, before following right after. You walk towards the mark that signifies the start of the path where you’re supposed to find the bags of coins, and you look around to see that there are more shrubs than trees. It feels a little less constricting compared to if you were in the mountains or the woods, which is why you think Mr. Ri assigned this to both of you.

You and Jungkook start searching, and with the topography of the place, it’s easy to spot the bags that are hanging from the tree branches. You point one out and Jungkook steps on the hollowed out trunk to retrieve it. You stand by watching, reminding him to be careful. And though you tell yourself to focus on the bag, you can’t help but glance at the sight of him - in his light gray sweatpants and hooded sweatshirt, looking casual and comfortable and even more attractive.

It doesn’t help when he reaches out towards the branch while you stay on a spot below him, and the view of him from this angle leaves you quite breathless. Not only does his hoodie rise up to reveal his waist and that lower half of his torso that you’d held onto earlier, but you also get a peek of the band of his underwear, too. Your mind short-circuits for the briefest moment, even more when he stretches even more to pull the bag towards him, and you’re able to snap out of it in time, as you watch him slowly make his way down.

“Watch your step, watch your step!” You call out.

He easily descends, and with his smug face, he lifts the bag for you to see.

“Do you not have faith in my tree-climbing capabilities?” he asks you.

“It’s just not something I’ve seen you do before,” you shrug, acting nonchalantly as you return to walking down the path.

“So, were you worried?”

“Uhm, yes? I can’t have an injured Vice President on my watch,” you exclaim, earning you a laugh. “How am I gonna transport you out of this dirt road and back to the house? I can barely keep still as a passenger on the ATV.”

“Well, I could get hurt but I definitely won’t be immobile,” he points out. “I won’t be a hard person to help.”

“Right… I’m the one who gets injured and then can’t walk.”

He frowns at you at the reminder, and you counter that it’s okay for you to make fun of your injury but that he’s right, he probably won’t be as injured as you. You wave him off, hoping that you don’t have to deal with an incapacitated version of him during this game. You also won’t be able to handle worrying about him without giving too much away.

You return your focus on finding the other bags. There are those hidden behind rocks and in shallow holes; you know because of the shovel next to them. There’s another one tied around the trunk of the tree, and you have to hold your breath again when Jungkook climbs up to get it.

As expected, you have good teamwork. You section off areas to search at and quickly find what you’re looking for. You go for the ones you can get and then ask him to reach for the ones you can’t. There’s some bickering in between, with him pretending that he’s stuck or caught on something while you panic and then pout at him for scaring you. But there are some moments of silence, too, where you walk side by side and bask in the scent of your surroundings. Either way, it’s time that you enjoy just being around him, taking in the environment that you often stayed away from. With him, it’s a lot less scary and definitely more freeing.

When you’re down to your last one, you and Jungkook think that Mr. Ri would hide it somewhere near the end of the path, so you both decide to just take in your surroundings as you stroll towards the stream.

“So, nature smells like this, huh?” you hum. “It’s quite comforting.”

“It is,” he says. “I forget sometimes. It’s nice to remember.”

“Don’t you spend a lot of time outdoors?” You wonder. “You’ve mentioned driving out to some of your properties with views like this. I’d assume you stay out and enjoy the scenery.”

“I do enjoy the scenery… just from inside,” he chuckles, knowing the irony of his words. “It’s just more comfortable that way, I guess. So I appreciate being forced to go outside this weekend.”

“At least you’re not alone, right?”

“That’s true.”

“I’m the same,” you say. “I don’t go out much. I mean, I’m often on my own so I just stay indoors but I do enjoy the scenery when I’m with others. It feels too lonely when you’re by yourself. To be something so small in a world so big… It's kind of scary.”

“Well, I’m here with you. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

You don’t think Jungkook will ever know the weight of his words and just how wrong he is. To be in a place so beautiful with him next to you… it’s everything you’re scared of. You’ve come to appreciate a lot of things because of him. You’ve come to want more when you shouldn’t because of him. You always find yourself in a state of push-and-pull with your emotions when it comes to him, knowing that he’s someone you can’t have. He’ll always be out of reach no matter how close he is. He’ll always hinder you from the kind of life you want to have even if that includes him.

The logical part of you wants to keep your distance, to not create any more memories that will haunt you and that you’ll miss. But the stubborn part of you wants you to hold onto this to remind you that beautiful things are tangible and he’s the one thing you can see and hear; maybe he’s something you can touch, too.

The latter one wins, so you slow your pace, take in the sight before you, and decide that this is a memory you’ll want to keep. You take the disposable camera from your pouch, something you bought the other week specifically for this trip, knowing it might be your last. You take a photo of the sky, then of the path ahead of you, then of the stream, making sure there’s a bit of him in there - a mop of hair, a portion of his arm, his shadow.

It’s then that you see the last bright red bag on one of the big rocks near the water’s edge.

“Oh, there it is,” you say, immediately walking towards it.

You look around and strategize how you’ll get to the rock safely but Jungkook insists that he’ll be the one to get it.

“You’ve gotten all the tricky ones,” you argue, given that he’d climbed the tree and crawled under the shrub because your leggings were too thin and wouldn’t be able to protect you from the thorny branches. “I can get this.”

“It might be slippery.”

“I have good balance,” you lie.

“Uh, I clearly remember that you don’t.”

“Hey,” you pout at him, knowing he’s referring to that time you tripped on yourself during one of your Arts Center visits. “It was the heels. That’s clearly not a problem this time.”

You step on the wet stones and balance your way as they lead towards the big rock, with Jungkook repeatedly telling you to be careful. His voice just gets louder and louder, but you turn around and see that he’s actually just following you. It’s your mistake, as your loss of focus causes you to slip on one of the rocks and almost lose your balance. Fortunately, it doesn’t make you fall on your ass. Your foot merely slides to the side, barely missing the water, which is really fine, but Jungkook doesn’t think so.

“Don’t move until you’re stable,” he instructs, holding out his hand for you to take, prompting you to look at him questioningly. “That’s the foot you injured. You can’t risk spraining it again. Just take my hand or hold my wrist so you can safely get the bag.”

You do as he says, grabbing his forearm so you can stabilize yourself. You let him go once you do, then you turn and take a few small steps to get what you need. He stays close to you though, and once you retrieve the bag, you turn towards him with a proud smile and announce that half of your task has been completed.

“You’re incredibly stubborn, you know that?” He says instead, his firm voice a contrast to his playful frown.

“And you are quite the nagger,” you hit back. “I wouldn’t have slipped if I hadn’t turned and I wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t so noisy.”

“Sure, it’s my fault. Sorry for caring about your safety,” he shakes his head.

“Well, you were underestimating me,” you frown now. “I could’ve done all this without your help.”

“Really?” He challenges.

“Yes,” you stand your ground. “Although I would still need your help to get back to land.”

It’s what makes him laugh, and the way his eyes light up and crinkle makes your heart race. He has such a sweet sound, and you wish you could hear more of it.

“I figured. Let’s go, then.”

“Wait,” you stop him and check your watch. “We still have time. Can we stay for a bit? The water’s quite nice and the view of the mountains is prettier from here.”

Jungkook looks around. The mountain range from far away looks majestic from this angle, and with the sun about to set soon, the way the light shines on the water is just as beautiful.

“Okay then,” he says, wanting to savor this as well.

You just said you don’t go out much, and maybe like what he feels, being with him makes you want to take it all in; maybe it makes you feel less scared.

You both find dry rocks to sit at and it’s the perfect spot for you to take more photos, so you take out your camera and see which angles look best.

“Did you buy that for this trip?” he asks.

“Yeah. I knew the sights would be beautiful. I just wanted to keep something from here,” you explain.

“Give it to me then,” he says, reaching out his hand and gesturing towards your camera. “Let me take one of you so you’ll always remember.”

You hand it over to him then suddenly feel awkward at how you’re supposed to pose. You stay seated with your legs just slightly bent but are unsure of where you’re supposed to look. It feels a little too tense if you look at his direction, even if that’s what you should be doing.

“It’s free to smile, you know? That’s what people usually do for photos,” he says, causing you to giggle. He takes the photo right then, and you have an idea he caught your smile at the right time.

“Was that a trick?” You ask.

“Sort of. I knew you were gonna think of how bold it was of me to say that, considering that I barely even smile.”

“Wow, I can’t even tease you anymore because you already know what I’m gonna say.”

“I know sometimes you can’t help but just tease me like that. I know you too well,” he smugly says. “But I think I got a good photo. You’re welcome.”

You laugh at his playfulness, knowing it’s rare for him to show that side of him. So you ask for your camera back and decide you want him to be part of this particular memory. You hold it out and turn towards him.

“May I?” You ask.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” he hums. “I just don’t know how to smile.”

You giggle again and you’re quick enough to catch the brief moment when he lets out a short laugh.

You look at him softly, as if there’s more you want to say - that you’ll keep this close to you so you’ll remember what his smile looks like, that he’s something beautiful you can hear and see, that you feel so safe out here with him, and that you hope he’ll remember this, too.

But you look away before any of the words make it out.

You think to just quietly savor this, as you bask in the sounds of the cicadas and the flow of the water and the rustling of the leaves. You’re so small in this big world, but being with Jungkook makes things a little less scary. With him, you don’t feel so alone.

A bit more time passes before you both decide to head back. He reaches out his hand which you mindlessly take, your fingers instinctively wrapping around his palm. You’re too focused on your steps that you only realize you’re still holding him once you both safely make it to dry land. But it’s also at that moment when he lets go. Though a part of you wishes he’d drag the illusion a bit more, you’re also glad he didn’t; you would’ve probably held on longer if he didn’t pull away.

The silence continues as you both walk back to the start of the path, but he stays near you, occasionally asking if you’re tired or cold. You make it to the ATV and you hold onto his waist again with no instructions needed this time. He drives a bit faster than earlier but you feel safe and steady, and there’s something natural about the way you’re clinging to him for support. Part of the illusion as well, you think, but that ends, too.

You’re the last one back to the villas but you and Jungkook quickly make up some ground in assembling the water rocket. It was mostly him, though, as he says that he tinkers around and easily figures these things out. Do-hyun and Chin-sun feel the pressure as you catch up, and they shriek as they slowly feel the win slipping away from them. But then Jungkook holds onto the last piece and lets them win instead. The way they celebrate after their rocket successfully launches makes it feel worth it; you don’t feel bad about it at all. If anything, you expected he’d let either of the other two teams finish first.

After the winners are handed out hotel accommodation gift cards, Jungkook excuses himself to get a bit of work done while the rest of the team prepares for dinner. The team works on your assigned tasks of preparing the grill and slicing the vegetables, while you cook your famed fried rice after Do-hyun convinced you that it would heal her broken heart. Seated outside with the cool evening air, you all wait for Jungkook before starting.

“Mr. Jeon said he’ll just message me once he’s ready to eat,” Mr. Ri says as he takes his seat. “We can start without him.”

“But it’s not a team dinner without him,” Do-hyun whines. “He should take a break from working and spend time with us.”

“I’m sure he wants that, too,” you say. “Let’s just give him some time, maybe there’s something urgent he needs to do. Let’s just enjoy our meal and leave some food for him.”

Everyone dives in once the meat is cooked, and there’s a consensus that your fried rice is definitely worth all the hype. The laughter and teasing immediately start, and you wish Jungkook was here to enjoy it with you. You constantly glance at his villa, noting the dim lights, and you wonder what has him holed up inside this time, knowing he didn’t plan on working too much while he’s here.

It’s one hour later when you decide that he’s gone too long without having dinner, so you take portions of everything and set them on a tray.

“Wait, let me make him a drink. Hopefully that’ll convince him to come out,” Yohan says.

Managing to carry everything, you head towards Jungkook’s villa, and when he opens the door after your constant bell-ringing, he looks at you in surprise.

“The team’s been wondering when you were coming out,” you say. “You might be in there because of work, but I’m not fully convinced. Whatever it is, the food’s too delicious for you to not have a taste, so I brought you some.”

You raise the tray that you placed on the small table outside and flash him a smile. He nods in acknowledgement and takes it from you but you don’t leave just yet.

“I hope you’re not working anymore,” you say.

“I only did for a while,” he replies. “I… got a bit tired.”

“I’ve seen you workout in the morning and work all day after only having three hours of sleep, Jungkook. You wouldn’t get tired from just a jet ski ride and some scavenger hunt,” you raise an eyebrow.

He lets out a dry laugh before heading to the dining room. He leaves the door open so you follow him inside.

“I mean I’m socially tired. Isn’t that a thing?”

“Gee, I didn’t think that spending time with me outdoors drained your energy so much,” you frown.

Your playful pout tells him you’re teasing. He sure hopes it’s not what you really feel. It’s the opposite, in fact. He felt relieved of a lot of things during that hour that he walked around and breathed in the fresh air with you. And you both had moments - comforting glances, the shared silence… the fleeting touches that made him want more. You’re everything new and familiar and he wants to know how it’s like to have you close to him.

He knows it’s a desire he can’t act on, not just because he’s your superior but also because he can’t imagine you feeling a fraction of what he feels. It’s tempting to mistake your kindness for something more, and he’d fall into it if only hoping didn’t lead to disappointment. But like what Yoongi had said before, it’s how you naturally are, even as someone who prefers to be alone. Whatever type of friendship you offer is all that it is - friendship.

Jungkook clearly doesn’t deserve you. It’s not just because of the way he treated you at the beginning but because even until now, whenever he pulls away, you’re always the first one who reaches out. He’s scared that anything he does might push you away, and that’s the last thing he wants. He’ll keep you at a distance for as much as he can and for as long as you’re around. He can handle that, but losing you in any way has become his biggest fear.

That’s why he needed to be on his own after your time together in such a casual and comfortable environment. It’s easy to want that with you and to think that he can have it. Pulling away has always been his default when dealing with things he can’t control, and earlier, he just couldn’t control his mind and his heart.

But you’re here now, having knocked on his door like you always do, wondering if he’ll come out.

“I brought you dinner but I purposely gave you small servings so you’ll want more and leave your villa,” you explain.

“Half a cup of your fried rice?” He scowls. “That’s a crime.”

“I know. And you’ll run out if you don’t go outside,” you warn. “Are you planning on just staying here? Do-hyun’s right. It’s not a team dinner without you there.”

“I… I was planning to go out a bit later. It’s a different setting and I’m a little anxious,” he admits.

He looks away and you feel for him. You were the same in the beginning, too. It’s one thing to share meals with people in a work environment but it’s another when it’s more casual, where people are less filtered and guarded. But you had to try, and after spending time getting to know your colleagues, things got easier.

The team has adjusted to Jungkook but you suppose Jungkook hasn’t fully adjusted to them. Perhaps he was planning on sneaking in much later in the evening or using work as an excuse. But this is part of his function, and like you promised him early on, you want to help him with this aspect of his role.

“I’ll help you loosen up a bit,” you suggest. “I can have dinner with you here first and then we can go out once you’re ready.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees, even if he’d decided earlier that he’d keep his distance. “You can get your food outside. I’m not sharing mine.”

You laugh at how seriously he says the words.

“I know,” you say. “And by the way, Yohan made you that drink.”

“How’d he know I like highball?”

“A little birdie told him,” you shrug, feigning innocence.

You smile before walking out, with Jungkook reminding you to set aside some fried rice for him.

You take your plate and reason to the team that you and Jungkook will just discuss some work stuff and they buy it, saying they won't get drunk until you’re both back outside.

You return to the villa with your dish and a bottle of beer, immediately realizing that it’s new territory for you and Jungkook, too. Sure, you’ve spent some time together out of work, but not in a place and situation like this.

But you want to be there for him. You like that he looks to you for energy and support. On days when he’s distant, you want moments like right now to remind you of the times he needed you, that he wanted you around, even if it’s for a different reason.

It takes half an hour for Jungkook to ease his nerves. In that time, you talk about random things, like his favorite hawker centers in Singapore and the variety shows you watch on which days. You both tease each other, then compete on who gets less affected. You tell him it’s good preparation for when the team, in their drunken states, does the same. You assure him, though, that they won’t go below the belt but he also assures you that he’s a big boy and can handle it.

When he says he wants more fried rice, it becomes your cue to head outside. You’re thankful that other than Mr. Ri subtly smirking at you, no one else reacts uncomfortably. You and Jungkook just came from his villa alone, after all, but you suppose everyone’s too tired or too careful to say anything.

“I hope no one’s eaten my share of the fried rice,” Jungkook says as he sits across from you. “I was really looking forward to it.”

“Here, all yours, Mr. Jeon,” Yohan says as he hands him a bowl. “If it isn’t enough, just know that Do-hyun took one last scoop before we set this aside.”

“Traitor,” Do-hyun scowls at the younger man. “I couldn’t help it. It’s so good, right?” She turns to Jungkook now. “___ gatekeeps this! She says she’s too busy to make it and I only got her to do it now because I’m heartbroken.”

Jungkook smiles internally. You’ve made this for him a few times and it’s heartwarming to think that you had your reasons for doing so, knowing now that it’s not something you easily share.

“It’s way better than the one I make,” Jungkook says, glancing at you. “I can have this everyday.”

“You cook?!” Do-hyun basically yells.

“Uh, yeah. I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?” Jungkook asks.

“Paying people to do things for you,” Do-hyun shrugs.

It’s a line he’s heard you say before and neither of you are wrong. It’s normal to make that assumption and it’s also true. He had people to do pretty much everything for him when he was in Singapore. He has that option here in Seoul, too, but he’s found himself wanting less people in his space for long periods of time. You’re really the only one he doesn’t mind being around him.

The conversation shifts to what happened in the afternoon, and you all end up talking about each team’s scavenger hunt experience and the anticipation for the next day’s obstacle course and relay games. A few more shots and bottles of beer later, the vibe turns more serious, as Manager Lee’s question to Do-hyun about how she’s feeling turns into an emotional session where she asks what she’s supposed to do about the man she was seeing, wondering if it’s worth reaching out or just moving on from him.

Chin-sun shares a piece of her mind and so does Yohan. Manager Lee says that sometimes, people don’t know what they want and isolate themselves in response. The pieces of advice are a mix of being patient and forgetting about the man, and you choose to observe rather than give an opinion. It’s always easy to say something but things could be totally different once you’re the one experiencing it. You think Jungkook feels the same, as he stays quiet but listens earnestly.

“What do you think, Mr. Ri?” Do-hyun asks. “You’re the oldest one here and would probably have a lot to say.”

“I wish I did but I wouldn’t say I’ve made the best decisions when it comes to my love life,” Mr. Ri laughs. “I mean, I’ve only ever loved one woman but I let her go. And that was over 20 years ago; I haven’t loved anyone that way since. I don’t think I ever really stopped.”

You watch everyone’s faces turn from shocked to somber. Mr. Ri, having been CEO Jeon’s right-hand man for a long time, has a stable and commanding presence. Everyone knows him to be loyal and firm, yet there’s a warmth about him with how protective and dependable he is. They all know about his commitment to his job, but his faithfulness to one person is perhaps surprising; he was never one to show much emotion, after all. But then again, people make sacrifices in the name of love - sometimes they give everything up for it, sometimes it’s what they let go of.

“Twenty years is a long time,” Do-hyun sighs. “And you never stopped. Where does all that love go?”

“I have people I care about,” Mr. Ri answers. “It goes to them. Obviously it’s different but I learned that if I keep all that love to myself, it hurts even more. That’s how I learned to live with the decision I made. It’s how I learned to let her go.”

“That’s so sad,” Do-hyun sniffles. “Here I am, heartbroken about a guy I was dating for only a few months while you’ve been harboring these feelings for decades.”

“It’s not about the length of time you were together or apart,” Mr. Ri shakes his head. “When you give a part of yourself to someone, losing them always hurts. That part of you is gone because they took it with them and you can’t take it back. So your pain is valid. We all love and grieve and move forward differently,” he says. “It’s all terrifying but that’s the irony of life, I’ve learned. The thing we all want and can’t live without is the same thing that hurts us the most, whether we have it or not.”

There’s a beat of silence as everyone takes in the elder man’s words. They cut deep, as you know they come from a place of deep pain. You don’t want to ever go through something that hurts that much.

“I’m too emotional,” Do-hyun sighs, not wanting to spend the rest of the evening crying and having everyone feel bad for her, so she shifts her attention to something else. “I want something juicy.” She briefly looks at Jungkook, who looks blankly at her, so she turns to you instead. “I don’t know much about your love life, ___.”

“Yes, because I don’t have one,” you chuckle, masking the nervousness you feel because talking about its inexistence in front of the man plaguing your mind was not something you planned for this trip.

“But I know you did,” she insists. “I mean, why wouldn’t you?”

“I think what Do-hyun means is that you’re a highly capable, kind, and attractive woman,” Chin-sun chimes in. “Surely there have been prospects for a relationship, yes?”

“Like Mr. Min!” Yohan says now. “I always thought you two were cute together. Do-hyun and I would bet on it since she says you’re not the type to date co-workers.”

“And she’s right,” you say, glancing at Jungkook whose face you can’t read. “Yoongi and I are good friends. That’s all we ever were.”

“Well, I think he’s very nice and he’d treat you well,” Yohan sighs. “But I guess it might be weird to date someone you work with. I have friends I can match you with!”

“That’s not necessary,” you laugh. “I don’t think relationships are for everyone.”

“Why not?” Do-hyun asks.

You contemplate on whether or not you’re ready for this conversation, especially since it’s the type you usually just have with your best friends. You suppose it’s why your colleagues claim they don’t know much about you other than the way you work because you don’t really share much about your life, your dreams, or the things you wonder about. You’ve always preferred to keep things to yourself, always worried about how they will be received.

But everyone’s allowed themselves to be vulnerable tonight, and given the distance you’ve created between you and them all these years, you think the least you could do is be honest. It’s a team building thing anyway, and people bond over shared experiences during these times.

“I’ve… dated people but it was never serious,” you start. “I never really saw myself committing to them. Sure, I’d give my time and energy but nothing more. There’s so much courage in loving another person. I just don’t think I’ll ever be brave enough for that. I mean, it’s just hard to control. Once you start, you can’t stop; once you do it too much, you can’t pull back.”

“Sounds to me like you’re afraid that you won’t receive as much as you give,” Manager Lee states. “It’s how love is, though. It’s not always equal. But that’s the risk you take, that’s the trust you build. That even when what’s given isn’t the same, there’s still love there.”

“But isn’t that the scary part of it all?” You counter. “Like what Mr. Ri said, you give a part of yourself to someone when you love them but what if they don’t want that specific part of you? Or they did then one day they decide they don’t anymore? So they just retreat and leave you out in the open. They’re safe but you’re not, because you broke down your walls for them but they didn’t do the same.”

“That’s the thing about finding the right person, ___,” Manager Lee says, with all the wisdom of a man who’s loved and lost and loved again. “You either trust that they won’t do that, or you accept that they could and you’d still think that loving them is worth all the pain that losing them would cost. In the end, you get to decide. If you keep yourself from feeling it, how are you to know what’s worth it and what isn’t?”

You’ve heard versions of these words before, too. Soomin and Jimin, whose respective relationship ups and downs you’ve witnessed, have said themselves that committing yourself to someone takes a whole lot of faith in the person and in yourself. It’s because you’re giving them an opportunity to hurt you but you have to trust that they won’t. A lot of times, they do, so you then have to trust in your own ability to get over them.

The thoughts swim in your head and with your silence, Chin-sun gives you an encouraging smile. She’s a few years older than you and has experienced a lot when it comes to relationships, and you can sense that she understands your hesitation and your fear.

“It’s scary but when you find someone who makes you feel brave, that can make all the difference,” she says.

Admitting all this makes you feel exposed, especially when your eyes flit to Jungkook and you find him gazing at you, as if he’s trying to figure you out. You’re worried that any other move you make or things you say will lead him to uncovering your feelings that you acknowledge is beyond just physical attraction at this point.

You find yourself worrying about him constantly, wondering what he’s doing or if he’s getting proper rest. You’re always thinking about his smile and the sound of his laugh, and you imagine how much sweeter and softer they could get. You want him to be happy, to find his peace, to have something to look forward to. And you want to know what his touch feels and how it’s like to have him close.

You know all this is wrong because of who you are and who he is in this world, especially as you realize that you’ve never felt anything quite like this before. The fear makes itself even more known as it is embodied in the man across from you - so palpable and overwhelming that you can’t help but want more, and the more his eyes bore into you, the closer you are to giving in.

How are you to know what’s worth it and what isn’t if you don’t let yourself feel all of it? And if Jungkook makes you feel brave, then what if he’s the person you’re willing to break down your walls for?

You shake your head, knowing you can’t fall into the trap of your own mind. You need to be logical about this, but you also think that you’ve been that way all your life and it hasn’t brought you much happiness. At this point, you question what that looks like.

Maybe it looks like him. Maybe it’s also life without him.

How do people make decisions like this? You wonder. How do they know how much pain they can bear? And when does it become worth it?

“Wise words,” you manage to say after a tense silence. “You make it sound simple.”

“Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t,” Chin-sun says. “Human beings are complicated, ___, so are our emotions. Love makes people stupid. But it also makes us brave and happy and complete. And when it’s shared with the right person, god it feels so good.”

You’re able to get her to share about her own experience and remove the spotlight away from you. Manager Lee narrates his serendipitous love story as well, and the serious tone of the conversation turns into a giddy, enjoyable one. You find yourself constantly glancing at Jungkook, liking his soft smiles and giggles as the stories are told. He briefly meets your eyes during some moments though, and that’s when you look away.

The night ends when he announces that everyone should get some rest and prepare for tomorrow’s activities, so you all clean up and wish each other a good night. Your eyes linger on Jungkook as he walks back to his villa, and you turn away before he does the same, the yearning for him getting stronger as each day passes.

The sun shines beautifully over the lake as you lean on the railing overlooking the water. The clouds over the mountains look like the fog that cleared earlier, and the majestic way that the scenery is framed by the blue skies is absolutely stunning.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Jungkook hums from several meters next to you. “I never really bothered to appreciate this view before.”

“It is,” you say, turning to him as he continues to gaze at the scene before you while you gaze at him. If he notices from his periphery, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s breathtaking. I could take a picture but that wouldn’t give this justice.”

“I can try,” he says, reaching out to ask for your phone. “I’m good at this.”

You indulge him and watch as he finds the right angle to beautifully capture the surroundings. He asks if you want him to take another photo with you in it this time, and though you’re a little shy, you let him.

You warm at how natural your smile looks, realizing that you were focusing on his smile while he was taking the picture. The view looks surreal but you’re in there, and it’s a reminder of where you are and who you’re with. Jungkook remarks that it’s a nice shot before turning back to the water, and while you wish you were braver and had asked to take one with him so you could hold onto this memory, you know you’ll look at this photo of you and also remember what you’re feeling. There’s so much calm and clarity, and you know it’s not just because of the mountains.

The tension and fear that filled you up last night have slowly turned into a sense of relief. The distance that once bothered you about Jungkook now gives you comfort. No matter how far or unattainable he may be, you still feel his presence - his warmth is in the peacefulness of a park at night, or in the calmness of the lake, or in the safety of your neighborhood library. You never imagined that one Jeon Jungkook would ever make you feel this way, and if he’s someone who makes you be brave to feel something new, maybe you owe it to him and to yourself to be brave to pursue that, too.

Your thoughts are disrupted when Yohan yells that breakfast is ready. You all gather in the common dining room for some dumpling soup before a short planning session to give you time to digest. At 9:30, the first activity begins, with all six of you divided into two teams to finish an obstacle course.

It gets competitive when you’re teamed up with the younger ones, as Do-hyun and Yohan attempt to trash talk the others. They give it their all, especially when they see Jungkook dominating the kayaking part of the course, but the three of you manage in the end. A part of you feels that the other team just wanted to make the younger ones win only to use it against them later on, but the fun and excitement are what matter.

You enjoy some meat and stew for lunch and have another planning session before doing the afternoon games, which has Jungkook on the losing team again. He comes up with a last minute individual game that gives Manager Lee the chance to win this time, and the afternoon ends with all of you, excluding him, winning prizes you can enjoy after this.

The free time before dinner has you reading your book by the lake and then talking with Chin-sun in the hammock while the rest of the team enjoy the sunset and some beer. You’re thankful that this time, Mr. Ri was tasked to handle all the activities instead of you, and so you’re able to focus on spending time with your colleagues.

You grill meat again for dinner, roast marshmallows over the campfire, and passionately sing off-key in the karaoke. But unlike last night, people decide to go to bed early, definitely tired from today’s physical activities.

You’re exhausted as well but somehow, the pull of the cold evening air is too strong, so you decide to walk to the main house and grab a bottle of beer. When you walk out to the deck, you’re surprised to find Jungkook seated on a lounge chair outside of his villa, glass in hand as he looks up at the sky.

Jungkook savors the crisp breeze, knowing that once he gets back to Seoul, all he’ll have is the musty air and the buzzing sounds of the city. He wants to remember this weekend and the peace he felt. Maybe he should’ve taken a photo of the view this morning like he did for you; he at least has the one of you in it that he took ingrained in his mind. You looked so calm and happy; he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face then.

He’s trying to keep as much of today in his memory as he can, knowing how hectic it’s going to be when you all get back. Other than the amount of fun he didn’t expect to have with the team, he enjoyed seeing a different side of you.

You were competitive but encouraging, probably not the most athletic but definitely capable. He could pick out your squeals and laughter and he thought they were sweet and hypnotic, and he appreciated how thoughtful you were during dinner, making sure everyone had enough to eat, especially him. You would catch his attention to ask if his meat is okay or if he’s feeling comfortable; he hated that it all ended so soon. Though he shouldn’t, he wanted more time with you. It’s different being out here than it is in the office or even in his home. Here, he’s unguarded and a lot more free, and he’s able to make more sense of how you affect him; in a way, he’s able to truly feel all that you make him feel.

There’s so much of you in his mind but you’re not around, so he stands up to head to bed already, hoping he’d at least see you in his dreams. But when he turns towards the door, he sees a silhouette in the main house’s deck. And as if the universe is giving him some sign, he finds you there, standing by the post with a beer in hand. You lift the bottle in cheers and he lifts his drink in return, sipping every last drop he could.

He sees you grab another bottle from the outdoor fridge then place it on the coffee table, an invitation to join you that he’s glad you make. He would’ve been too hesitant to make the move, unsure of your willingness to be in his presence.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask as he nears the couch.

He sits next to you, the short distance a little too tempting to close.

“Sort of,” he hums. “And you?”

“Not really. I don’t get much of the outdoors back in my tiny apartment,” you chuckle.

“Fair enough. The weather’s been nice, fortunately. Not like the last time we were out of town, yeah?”

“Yeah, fortunately,” you shyly look at him, not saying more, perhaps unsure if it’s something he’s ready to talk about.

“It’s okay,” he assures you. “I’ve accepted you having witnessed my extreme moment of weakness. You were patient and understanding even when I was angry and I… I don’t know if I’ve thanked you enough for that.”

“You have, and I understand it all. But Jungkook, what happened at that guest house is not weakness,” you insist. “That’s… dealing with a painful memory.”

“That wasn’t dealing, ___. I was suffering. That's… that’s what happens when someone doesn’t know how to move on from something.”

“Does it happen a lot?” You wonder.

“Well, the nightmares tend to happen when the thunder is really loud,” he says. “Otherwise I just get really anxious, like when it rains, my brain just expects things to get bad.”

“What do you do when it does?”

“I don’t know how I manage, actually,” he answers. “I usually forget and just remember that I wake up dry in my bed. I mean, I’d be sweating but not soaked. I guess that night, I was just too nervous because the rain was so strong, we were on the road. And I was somewhere completely unfamiliar with you. I… I think that made it worse.”

Your silence prompts him to clarify. “I mean, I didn’t want you to see me that way, that’s why it was worse,” he states. “It’s not a side of me I’m proud of. Which is silly thinking about it now because you’ve seen a lot of sides of me that I’m not proud of. All of them, actually.”

“So you’re not proud of the side of you that protected me? That made sure I was safe? That rushed to find me when I was stuck in the rain?” You ask.

“It’s what any decent human being would do,” he dismisses. “Those just probably stand out because I wasn’t exactly one in the beginning.”

“Well, you had Mr. Ri drive me. You’d make me go home early sometimes, too.”

“___, again, that’s what a decent boss should be doing. It’s the bare minimum. You deserve more kindness than you’re receiving. I… I should have been that to you from the start.”

“We’ve moved past that, remember? It’s all okay. I managed, I stayed. And I’m glad I did. I got to learn so much from you,” you assure him. “And you deserve more kindness than you’re receiving, too.”

Jungkook hums. He wouldn’t have thought that he’d be able to freely talk to you about all this - about how he was before and how he’s been recently. And like always, you’re gentle with him. He could only hope you’re as gentle as you are with yourself, something he doesn’t know how to do.

“I… I hope you’ve found ways to cope with all that you went through,” he says, turning away from you in shame. “I… I’m still learning.”

“It’s a process, and it’s not an easy one. No one really tells you how to do it. You kind of just… find your way,” you share. “But just think that the thunder doesn’t last long. It’s going to pass. So maybe when it starts raining, you can do what I did. Just cover your ears to block out the sounds. All we can do sometimes is shield ourselves from it, you know? It would scare us a little less.”

“I don’t even remember how you did it,” he admits. “I felt so out of it that night.”

“But did it help?” You ask.

He nods in response. “I wasn’t alone. I think that was the first time in a long time.”

“When you are, just do what I do,” you say, turning towards him and closing the distance to cover his ears with your hands. “Edge of the palms or your fingers then press tightly. The hollowness will drown out the sounds until they stop.”

Jungkook’s eyes swim in yours. He can’t tell you that he doubts it’d work without you, since your comforting look and your calm voice are what made him pull through. But still, he knows that imagining you’re there would definitely help.

“Edge of the palms or your fingers then press tightly,” he repeats, almost like a whisper. “Got it.”

You smile and it’s like a spell for him, as he mindlessly puts his hands over yours and slowly brings them down. He’s so lost in you that he only realizes he’s still holding your hands when you look down, so he immediately pulls away.

“Who taught you how to do that?” He asks, masking his embarrassment.

“My mom,” you answer, shifting back on your seat and looking out at the horizon. “My dad copped out before he knew I existed and she was too heartbroken to ask for him back. It took a while but she eventually found another man. I was pretty young then. He was okay, but then he lost his job and things went downhill from there.”

Jungkook sees the way your face falls and he already knows his heart is going to break for you.

“He would drink a lot and they’d fight all the time. He’d yell and yell, and then yell some more,” you narrate. “Mom would make me hide in the closet or under the bed just so I’d hear less of it. Thunder used to scare me, too; it sounded like his banging on the wall when he’d scream at her but eventually, I realized the roar drowns him out so I welcomed it. But I would just cover my ears and think of happy thoughts like she said. Sometimes she’d come to me and do it like I did with you. I always liked that better.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, wanting to take your hand back and comfort you in any way. “You shouldn’t have experienced that.”

“Life isn’t fair sometimes,” you sigh, having accepted the hand you were dealt. “My mom and I got out and she found someone who loves and respects her. And we just found ways to deal with the pain, you know? We could only bury it for so long. And so covering my ears just became a habit as I grew up. It was a way to battle all that.”

“I’ve seen you do that a few times.”

“It’s like a general coping mechanism of some sort,” you explain. “Sometimes the loud sounds come from inside, too. Thoughts of not being good enough, of being selfish, of not deserving of happiness… I mean, they come from others but they stay in my head. I have to cover my ears to stop them from overwhelming me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, looking away in shame when you turn to him questioningly. “You did that several times during my first weeks. I know I… I said things that hurt you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It was hard for everyone and like I said, I forgive you. But I've been told worse things,” you shake your head. “You’ve heard some of them.”

“You didn’t deserve those either.”

“I know. That’s why I walked away. It’s easy to do that when you don’t give much of yourself to them. And I do it all the time,” you say. “I never really stay.”

“Would you stay if you found the right person?”

You remember a conversation with him months ago, about people being temporary and how they’d only stay if they had a reason to. It’s safe to say that finding the right person would be your reason, but that also makes it harder.

“I probably would,” you respond. “And I think that scares me, too.”

“Why?” He asks.

“What if I would stay for them? But they won’t stay for me?”

Jungkook leaves your question unanswered, knowing there’s nothing he can say that would sufficiently validate your fear nor comfort you about it. His own past relationship doesn’t give him any right - Chaerin left him but he gave her all the reasons to; she walked away and he did the same. Sometimes he wonders if she’d lost him before he lost her. He also doesn’t know if he loved her so much that he let her go, or if he didn’t love her enough to make her stay. Maybe it was neither. Or maybe he was just too scared - that she’d reject him, or that he wouldn’t be able to love her better if he she came back, he doesn’t know. He was never brave enough to find out.

He lets the silence linger, prompting you to remark that the conversation is too sad for a night as pretty as tonight.

“We should probably head to bed, though,” he suggests. “We still have stuff in the morning then a long ride home. I don’t have to remind you how hectic this next week is gonna be.”

“You just did,” you frown, earning you a laugh. “But I agree. Thank you for keeping me company tonight.”

Your shy smile makes his breath hitch. He wants this to go on for longer but he knows he might just let his guard down even more, maybe share about his other pains and frustrations and worries about life. Maybe he’ll end up moving closer to you, close enough that he’d smell your classic rose scent that makes his mind feel hazy. Maybe he’ll want more, and he reminds himself of all the boundaries he shouldn’t cross, and that crossing them may push you away.

So he says goodnight and you both walk towards your respective villas, looking back one more time before heading inside.

You’re all he thinks about for the rest of the night. His gaze follows you all through the next morning, too. He misses your presence when he leaves for Seoul in his own car, and he’s back to being a giddy mess when you message him, saying you hope he got home safely.

It almost feels like the weekend was a dream and when Monday comes, he has to remind himself that he’s back to reality and that includes how he should be when it comes to you. Those days remain in his memory, but when you enter his apartment that morning with the softest smile, and when you meet his eyes as you fix his necktie, he knows it wasn’t a dream. And that somehow, just like him, you wish it didn’t have to end.

It’s been over a week since the team building and you haven’t really moved on from all that happened during those three days. There was the joy of being with your colleagues and the companionship you felt thankful to have. There was also the tranquility of the lake and the refreshing environment that rejuvenated you, making you wish you were back there, especially as you sort through the printed photos from your disposable camera and see the pretty views that you already miss.

There’s that photo you took of Jungkook by the stream that you’ve been staring at, another reason why you want to go back to that time. His eyes are warm and his smile is soft and subtle, unforced and just as captivating. It’s quite calming, and it’s the image that you hold onto later that Thursday evening when you’re piled under loads of paperwork. It’s past 6PM but you can’t afford to leave yet, and the only good thing about it is that he’s still around, and you get to sneak in some glances through the window.

You’ve become that person, smitten by her attractive boss and definitely stupid enough to be overwhelmed by her emotions. You haven’t stopped thinking about him. Everyday that you enter his space, the desire to know him more gets stronger; with every common place you step into, you keep wishing he’d ask you to stay close, that he’d invite you to somewhere reserved for those he lets in. Every time your fingers brush, you’re reminded of the way his hands felt on top of yours and how you wanted him to keep them there, and every look you share makes you hope that you’re not the only one in this mess of emotions. And that if you’ll give in, so would he.

You’re not quite sure what he feels, but if his shy smiles and the way he intensely looks at you before looking away mean anything, then you could at least say that there’s definitely something there. You just don’t know if he would acknowledge it or if like you, it’s gotten too strong that you’re unable to think clearly or act rationally.

Finally done with the last item on your task list for today, you start to pack up. It’s at the same time that Jungkook exits from his room to return a portfolio he took earlier and place it on your desk. You’re about to pick it up but he says you should just leave it there and fix it tomorrow.

But you disregard him. You retrieve the stool and attempt to return the portfolio on the top shelf. It’s a little heavy but you manage; you even start fixing the others that moved because Jungkook’s been getting them these past days. You’re about to step down when you hear his heavy sigh.

“I told you to do that tomorrow,” he groans, walking towards you.

With your back turned, you reply, “I like starting my days with a tidy desk, okay?”

“It’s just one portfolio,” he points out.

“It still takes up so much space. It makes my table look messy.”

“You still could’ve waited. Or you could’ve asked me to help,” he insists, continuing to reprimand you as you try to step down the stool.

He’s a little close, blocking your view of the floor, and that’s why you miss a step and trip again, your squeal echoing throughout the empty floor. You think your heart racing is about to join in on the sounds, too, as it quickens when you realize that Jungkook has caught you by your waist, his tight grip on you sending shivers down your spine.

He’s gotten even closer, as you look up and find his scrunched eyebrows and worried eyes staring back at you. The tension starts to rise but you manage to tell him that you’re fine after he asks if you’re hurt.

“I’m sure,” you tell him. “You caught my fall. Again.”

You giggle and that’s what makes him let out a laugh as well. Your left hand holds onto the shelf but his hands remain on you. He’s still a breath away but you suddenly don’t mind, as your right hand mindlessly makes its way to rest on his arm. At this moment, this feels right. You’re all alone in your little bubble with him where you’re all he sees and he’s all you can breathe in.

His bergamot scent wafts through your nose. You can count his eyelashes and see the scar on his cheek that you never noticed. He’s even more breathtaking up close, and as if all reason evaporates from your body, you don’t pull away. You want him just like this.

On second thought, you want him even closer.

“You’re a clumsy woman, aren’t you?” He says, his voice low and deep. “This isn’t the first time that I’m breaking your fall.”

“Well, if you would just be quiet while I’m attempting to go down, then that wouldn’t be a problem,” you breathily giggle, inching the tiniest bit forward.

“Well, if you just listened to me the first time, then you wouldn't have to climb up there,” he responds, earning him a playful roll of your eyes. “You’re a stubborn one, too.”

“So I’ve heard,” you match his teasing. “Can't help it sometimes.”

“So you acknowledge it?” He raises an eyebrow in intrigue.

“Yeah, I guess,” you say much more nervously now, meeting his eyes. It’s like you’re hypnotized again, caught in some spell where being in his presence makes you honest and uninhibited. “I mean, I feel things I shouldn’t feel and want people I shouldn’t want,” you add. “Doesn’t that make me stubborn?”

“What’s stopping you from feeling them? From having them?” He asks, his voice remaining low and his eyes, even more piercing and desperate now as they stare back at you.

His thumbs lightly caress your waist and his touch electrifies you through the thin material of your blouse. There’s so much to say and it’s way more complicated, just as your feelings for him are. You can’t help but eye his lips, soft and pink, and the desire to know what they taste like intensifies, prompting you to nibble your own.

“What’s stopping me?” You pant now, your gaze flitting from his eyes back to his lips, with him doing the same. “The ways of the world. And some… boundary that pulls me back, a line that I don’t know he’s ready to cross for me.”

The words actualize your fears the moment you say them. You know all the reasons why wanting him is wrong. But there’s a small part of you that wants to give in, and it’s terrified that he wouldn’t, that he’d dismiss what you feel and pull away. The way he’s been with you and the way he’s holding you right now spark that sliver of hope you have that he feels the same way, but it’s also the same moment that he lets you go, perhaps realizing that he’s not willing to take the risk the way you are.

He releases you from his hold and steps back, creating distance, and you suddenly feel bare - exposed and unguarded without his touch. He looks at you in panic, in apology, in fear, as if he’d had some sense knocked into him, as if he awakened from some spell that pushed him close to you, only to realize that that’s a place he can’t go.

“I—”

“I should go,” you interject, turning away so as not to see any more of the rejection in his eyes. “Have a good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

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vivalabunbun · 1 year ago

Text

When It Rains, Why Does It Pour?

Summary: Sand is quite a nuisance, it creeps into every crevice and no amount of dusting can free oneself from its stubborn hold. Yet, the tide still greets the shore.

Word Count: 8.8k (oh no...)

Tags: Neuvillette x GN!Reader, human!reader, SFW, fluff, childhood friends AU, Slow Burn, Slow Fic, Angst, Hurt with Comfort, themes about reincarnation, TW: Themes about death and loss, themes about aging, immortal x mortal AU, not lore accurate, reader is an attendant, human prejudice, Spoilers Warning: His story quest and archon quests, speculations about his past in Fontaine, why is he so mysterious

Authors Note: This was a challenge trying to write from the POV of a man you don't even know the name of, but I just had to write something for him. A character study of Neuvillette. Enjoy!

How long has it been since he first arrived here? One month? Two? Or perhaps it has already been a year? The young dragon wasn’t too sure.

The days seem to blend together when one only eats, studies, and sleeps all on repeat. A cruel trait of time. The weather outside the glass windows didn’t provide any hints either.

However, he himself is to blame.

A gray haze concealed azure skies as rhythmic drops of rain hit the earth. Blocking out the all-seeing sun and nurturing moon, the murky clouds above even hinder the stars from accompanying him.

A true reflection of his current solitude.

The young dragon arrived in the human world, brought over by the lord of Fontaine. Due to the nature of his arrival to this nation, he was given status and importance in the eyes of the citizens. However, he has yet to receive acceptance.

The grand estate in which he resides was staffed with countless butlers and maids, renowned chefs, and skilled tutors. He was wanting of nothing, yet still impoverished.

He could see it in their mortal eyes, he could sense it in the tangible silence of the halls, he could tell from the distance each mortal put between themselves and him.

Much like the towering stone walls which surrounded his private residence.

Was it to separate themselves from him or himself from them?

A question he entertains as lilac eyes scan over the aforementioned wall. Its gray stones are a welcomed change from the dry parchment with even drier content.

As he observes the drab stones contrast against a dreary sky, a small flash of white cuts through the somber composition.

Catching his lilac eyes as they follow the strange shape, it drifts through the capricious wind before the breeze grew bored and tossed it to the ground.

Studying it a bit further, the young dragon identifies the object as a simple pillowcase. Nothing more than a scrap of fabric.

He reasons that the wind must’ve stolen it from some clothesline. Just when he was about to return to the legal ledgers a rustling came from the bushes lining the bottom of the wall.

A small frame pushes apart the thick vegetation, creating enough space to finally free themselves from the entangled mess of branches.

The towering wall, the one meant to separate him from the mortals, was defeated by a mere child.

A child who’s clumsy brushing the twigs from their garments and shaking a few raindrops from their hair. He watches as the small human trots toward the discarded pillowcase, a pout forming on their lips as they observe the mud that had seeped into the silk.

Judging by the simple attire they don, they must be the child of a maid.

Ah humans, fickle and temperamental creatures created by the usurpers. It took a conscious effort on his part to stop the frown threatening to appear on his lips.

Seems like he still needs to get used to their presence.

It was as if the child sensed the bitterness in his thoughts because soon a pair of wide eyes connected with lilac. Even with the sun hiding behind dreary clouds, there was a light that twinkled in their irises.

It was only for a minute, no, even less than that. But a young dragon and a young human held each other’s gaze.

The child’s shoulders jolt as they turn their head back toward the wall, as if a voice called for them. Casting one last glance toward the young dragon, the child trots back toward the wall, disappearing within the murky viridescent.

And that was the end, like the breeze that littered a scrap of fabric among the grass, the small human came and went.

Such fickle creatures, the young dragon gives it one last thought before returning his attention back to a cluttered desk.

–

Amongst the soft drumming of droplets came a tap against the glass too sharp to be caused by the gentle rain. Causing the young dragon to turn away from the stacks of books laid out before him.

The wet glass obscured a small flicker of an orange glow, thus he walked closer to investigate. With each step, the figure outside the window became undeciphered.

That small human again.

Locking eyes with the human outside the glass, the fickle creature’s lips curl up, the glow of their lamp illuminating the curiosity behind their gaze.

A human child doesn’t have the potential to cause much if any harm to him. Thus, he releases the lock, removing the glass barrier separating two breathes.

“Hello! What is uh… your name?” They chirp out.

His sharp ears picked up the clumsiness in their speech, the subtle unfamiliarity of the words they spoke. Distinct signs that you were still learning the language of Fontaine, much like him.

Although he understood your question, he was too distracted to answer. Lilac eyes wandering off toward the stone wall. Within the entangled mess of twigs, there was a small parting.

A part just wide enough to reveal the secret the bushes desperately tried to hide: A small hole along the bottom of the stone barrier. Just enough for a small creature to slip through.

Discovering the truth behind how a small human was able to defeat such a seemingly impenetrable wall.

The pattering of the rain was interrupted by the rustling of fabric, drawing his attention back to the small human in front of him.

The child rummages through their pockets before pulling out a lump covered by a handkerchief. Peeling back the layer of fabric to reveal some conch madeleines, presenting fragmented sweets before the young dragon.

“It tastes good, I promise.” A small hand extends itself further through the open window.

Observing the crumbly sweets laid out upon a handkerchief, the young dragon halted the rejection that almost escaped his lips. Remembering the concepts he had just been reading before this.

Humans tend to follow a set of unwritten rules, principles they like to call ‘manners’. There weren’t any punishments issued by law if those rules were broken, no imprisonment or fines.

However, narrow-eye stares and whispers behind backs were the punishments issued to transgressors by society.

So, he accepts a piece, trying to ignore the sand-like sensation against his tongue. As he chewed, the grin on the human’s face only got wider.

“Now that you’ve taken one, you have to give me your name, it’s only uh… fair!”

Ah, it looks like he’s been tricked. Falling into the clumsy sugar-coated trap only a child could come up with. Yet, as his lilac gaze caught the twinkle still ever so bright in their eyes, he didn’t have the strength to form a frown.

Just a curious human child, only as dangerous as a firefly buzzing in his ear. There shouldn’t be any harm in disclosing the surname bestowed upon him by this nation.

“Neuvillette.” He finally said his first words to you.

A peculiar pattern is recurring. That rainy night when Neuvillette opened those windows, it looked like he welcomed a phenomenon in as well.

Even in his current state, a small human like you could pose no possible threat to him. Thus, whenever a certain tap was placed against the glass. He saw no reason to turn away the visitor. Allowing you to climb in through his window time and time again.

It would’ve been better if you used the door. However, he’s aware of the complications such a request would bring.

Perhaps it’s because he’s currently in the form of a young child, sharing a similar stature to yours. From his observations, humans do have a tendency to gravitate toward those with similar traits. Or perhaps, you’re just exceptionally brazen.

Neuvillette glances up from his book, thick with endless sentences describing obscure and frivolous laws, landing on your frame lazing around upon a rug.

One hand holds onto a collection of fables, pages illuminated by the gentle rays of a star. While the other periodically reaches out toward a pile of conch madeleine.

A sight he’s come to expect now.

Lavender eyes follow your hand as it brings another one of the crumbly sweets to your mouth again. You brought them over under the pretense of sharing them with him, yet they’re already half gone. The only hand reaching for the sweets being yours.

Just like how it was last time, and the time before that, and the one before that as well.

If you felt this complacent in his presence now, then perhaps he can be more candid with you. As is common practice among humans to present a polite front that gradually wears away each recurring meeting.

“You do not have to bring over any more conch madeleine.”

The moment those words left his lips the motion of your hand halted, looking up to connect your sight with his, confusion pinching together your brows.

“Oh? Why so suddenly?” The collection of fables now resting on the rug.

It’s already been done, the first ripple in the frangible water between you and him. There is nothing that can cease the waves that accompany the first breach. He might as well say the whole truth.

“They are dry, I cannot fathom how you can bring yourself to eat them.” Prescriptive eyes caught a faint flinch as you processed his edict.

“They taste fine to me…” You mutter, picking another one up.

This time you chewed slower. The pinch between your brow only grew as you tasted the sweet again, searching for the perceived flaw.

As you met his gaze once more, he could tell your search brought forth no fruitful conclusions. Thus you asked another question in response.

“Then what do you like?”

Besides the pleasantries commonly exchanged between humans in Fontaine, Neuvillette recognizes he lacks the talent for small talk.

The room usually filled with your grievances about whichever tedious task you were assigned before you slipped away behind a wall and into his private residence. Ambient noise which accompanied each flip of a law book.

It is long overdue for him to pull his weight in a conversation.

“Water, spring water.”

“Huh?”

Neuvillette repeats his sentence but the scrunch of your brows doesn’t ease up, he couldn’t fight the urge to draw in a deep breath. So this is the limitation of the human palate, how regrettable.

“Perhaps you are still too simple to appreciate the qualities of water.”

The pout upon your crumb-covered lips morphs into a tight line, sealing away your voice. The brightly printed cover of a storybook was shut as the last few remaining treats were bundled away in a napkin.

Your tea break ended early today, impassive eyes following your figure as it disappeared among the thick vegetation beside a stone barrier.

It was quiet today, not even a single parting uttered past your sealed lips. Therefore leaving the conversation unfinished.

But that is today, you’ll have another tea break tomorrow, and you’ll come to him with your grievances about chores tomorrow as well.

The young dragon returns his focus to the text in front of him.

–

The soft hymn of raindrops against a glass window reverbed through the solitary study, providing a melody for the periodic flips of paper. But the melody was hollow, incomplete.

Shifting his body to look behind himself at the vacant rug, Neuvillette deduces why. The accompaniment was missing.

That tomorrow he had come to expect never came.

Had he committed a transgression? Overstep a line outside his place? Food is a point of pride for many humans, one oddity he’s yet to grasp.

These temperamental creatures tend to lash out when their pride is wounded, much like how a beast reacts to an unhealed cut.

Neuvillette was curious as to whether this was an inherent trait of humanity or a learned by-product of the fickle principles imposed on themselves.

However, observing the abandoned storybook tucked away, the young dragon is leaning towards the former.

Turning back to face his desk, his eyes could only glaze over the monotonous scribbles. Perhaps the cause of his spiritless attitude was disappointment, disappointment in himself.

It looks like he was careless, deluding himself with the misconception that you and him were alike. Two outsiders who found solace in each other’s presence.

However, this was false. You were an outsider to Fontaine, but he was an outsider to this world where humans walked.

He’s still too naive.

Fickle and temperamental creatures spoiled by the usurpers at the expense of his ancestors.

Why did he even entertain the thought that you and him could ever be alike?

Something stirred from within, like when pebbles were thrown into still water, but what were those pebbles? As Neuvillette ponders this conundrum, the drumming of the rain grows louder.

However, it wasn’t loud enough to swallow up the sharp set of taps which interrupted his somber reflection. Jolting him from his thoughts, snapping his attention to the source of the noise.

There stood a figure distorted by the wet glass as another set of sharp taps sounded through the room.

Before Neuvillette could even process it, his body moved without his command. Unlatching the lock and setting the window free from its frame.

Not sparing another second to the raindrops soaking into their cloak, the figure clambers through the window with practiced proficiency.

Without uttering a single greeting, not even one pleasantry, you situated yourself on his floor. Melting into an undignified lump on the pristine tiles as bewildered eyes watched you.

After catching a few breaths, an explanation finally makes its way to his ears.

“T-they… they patched… up the hole,” you huffed out between short breaths.

Ah, the small cavity in the stone wall that you used to escape from chores. Looks like the security at the estate finally noticed.

Gauging the height of the wall from his place by the window, he’s aware of how it towers over both him and you the same.

This brings up another question as he returns to observe your frame, still trying to catch the breaths that evade you.

“I… ran… through the gates… before the… Gardes noticed…” Exhaustion evident in your eyes as pants break up your sentence.

Ah, looks like his question was answered before he even inquired. To be puzzled or amazed, he wasn’t too sure how to categorize this ripple inside him.

The tomorrow that’s been missing for a little more than two weeks, is now right in front of him.

Panting and leaving a few muddy traces along the marble floor, but here nonetheless.

With one deep motion of your lungs, you pushed your body up, finally getting ahold of your breath. The familiar rustle of your pocket, the audio cue for a certain dry sweet to appear. Neuvillette didn’t mind in the least.

Perhaps, he can bear the sandy sensation just for today. But tomorrow is always filled up with surprises, a glass bottle finding its way out of your pocket instead of sugary treats.

“What is that?” An obvious question, but his voice found its way out of his mouth.

“Water, water from the servant’s well, I bottled it myself.” A small hand holds the bottle out more.

“Thank you,” Neuvillette accepts it into his hands.

He should really acquire some glasses to pour the water out into, it’s improper and bad manners to drink from the bottle.

However, his curiosity was greater. Or maybe, he didn’t realize just how parched he had become from waiting for tomorrow.

Uncapping the clumsily packaged water, he takes a generous sip.

“It’s sweet.” His tongue picking up on a subtle saccharine undertone.

“Really?” Your hand reaches up as that familiar shine illuminates your eyes.

Taking a sip from the bottle passed back into your grasp, your brows furrowing in concentration. Another sip was taken from the bottle as you continued to search for the sweetness in the water you’ve always drank.

A sight that tugged up at the lips of a boy still studying the shape of your quirked brows.

Humans, fickle, perplexing, yet astoundingly curious creatures from the very beginning.

If he is to walk amongst the human world, then it’s best for him to be equally curious. To try and search for the harmony between two different breaths.

A child of a maid far from their homeland. A status too insignificant to warrant the attention of Fontaine's factions, freeing you from their prying eyes and entanglements.

Therefore, it should be alright for him to continue observing you, no?

“Ahh… The rain is so unpredictable here in Fontaine, trying to hang out the wash here is always a gamble.” You sink further into the plush cushions of his settee.

As the sun rose and fell, as the leaves grew green then gold, as the ground froze and thawed.

One thing remained unchanged throughout these cycles even as they repeated: your grievances over chores.

The frequency of these complaints reaching his ears has increased, on the part that you now took over more of your mother’s responsibilities in managing the laundry of this estate.

Besides your habitual complaints of the weather, one detail didn’t escape Neuvillette’s hearing: your proficiency in the Fontainian language has increased significantly.

Words no longer spoken clumsily or with unfamiliarity. Accent nearly indistinguishable from a native speaker.

“The people here are fond of creating strange machinery, why can’t they make something to dry clothes?” You resume.

The quill in his hand stops as he pauses in the middle of a sentence, glancing over his shoulder toward your slouching figure making yourself comfortable in the sofa that’s more familiar with your shape than his.

“Perhaps you should be the one to create it, studying might do you some good as well,” came his curt response.

His candid advice makes you sink further into the cushions with a groan.

“I’d rather travel than study those jumbled-up books about machinery or whatever, in fact, I want to visit my homeland as soon as I can,” you grumble aloud.

Ah, that’s right, you’re approaching the age where you could travel freely.

By law, you won’t be bound to the side of your mother, not needing any permission to come to and fro however you wish. No longer kept at this estate washing and folding sheets.

Indeed, you and him found yourselves in similar situations: on the cusp of freedom from this estate.

While he was deep in thought, you filled the silence left behind by posing a question to him.

“Do you plan on visiting your homeland anytime soon, Neuvi?”

By now, the young dragon had stopped expending the effort to try and correct you in your butchering of his surname. Your reason being ‘it’s too long’.

Alongside you, he has grown in stature as well, elapsing you some time ago much to your dismay. If he wished to travel, not much would pose a problem to the young dragon.

However… where could he return to? A homeland… was there a section of his homeland untouched by the usurpers? If he were to go, would he ever want to return to this world?

Sensing the change in the air, dreary clouds blocking the sun’s rays from your skin, you were perceptive enough to ramble about a different matter.

Namely, how the chef of the estate recently changed the type of flour used in the kitchens, resulting in pastries and sweets that were less airy but more flavorful.

Explaining to him the subtle improvements and deterioration in the quality of some baked goods. Filling the air of the study with bright-eyed ramblings until rays of light peek out from waning clouds.

–

“Monsieur Neuvillette! It’s been a while since you’ve visited!” Soft patters of skipping steps made their way to the tall man.

Tilting his sights down, Neuvillette greets the cheery melusine with a gentle smile which she returned with an equally bright grin.

While on a routine stroll along the riverbanks to stretch his legs after a long day, he found himself at the entrance of Merusea Village.

He wonders if it's his body’s natural response to get away from the Palais Mermonia and Opera Epiclese.

Carrying him toward the direction of a secluded reprieve he discovered far away from the suspicious eyes of weary humans.

Condemnatory eyes were constantly pinned to the back of the young dragon who had recently emerged from a sheltered estate to sit in the grand seat of a Chief Justice.

Days filled with nothing but a cacophony of voices echoing off the opera house walls. Screams from the accused and the eager murmurs of spectators blended into nothing more than a chaotic din in his ears.

Gazing deeper into the small lake, the unsuspecting entrance to a hidden haven that the Melusines called home.

It would only take a moment, just one dip into the pristine water for him to disappear from the clamorous mortal realm.

Abandoning the overly grand seat of his post as easily as it would take for his head to vanish under the tranquil tide.

How great would it be to exist in the presence of creatures who could resonate with his own adriftness?

Maybe, he could finally discover the purpose of his current form and longevity in their company. Yes, that sounds about right.

Just as the water wet the tip of his overly ornate shoe, all motion his body stills at a familiar call.

“NEUVI!” Came a voice from just over the beaten path.

Soon your silhouette follows the echo of your call, steps hurried yet worn.

When the young dragon departed from his temporary estate and into the Palais Mermonia, a certain specter followed him as well.

The same specter who’s currently huffing to catch their breath after such a rush. Trying to gather enough air to form their next sentence.

“There you are! The grand tailor sent me to fetch you because you’re almost an hour late to the fitting of your new robe, they need to make sure the measurements are correct,” you chide.

The exasperation of your words was most definitely caused by the fact you had to physically exert yourself in your search for the wandering Chief Justice. Evident by the pout on your lips and scrunched nose.

His attention was quickly torn away from your recuperating figure by a faint tug of his slacks.

The Melusine had hidden herself behind his legs, creating a barrier between her and the strange mortal who seemingly appeared from the blue.

Her sudden movement caught your attention as well.

Ah, that’s right. The Melusines have yet to be acquainted with humans, and humans with Melusines.

Two different species, two different breaths, and two different sets of eyes that can’t seem to see directly into each other.

If his time within the wall of the estate and Palais Mermonia had proven anything, it would be the natural adversity humans had to differences.

Neuvillete certainly wasn’t prepared for such an event, nor was he sure how to handle it.

In the midst of his inaction, your hand reached into your pocket, fumbling around before pulling out a handkerchief-covered lump.

Despite the soreness in your legs, you lowered your body until you were at eye level with the shorter Melusine.

“Hello there, would you like some conch madeleines?” Unraveling the fabric to reveal the sweets which you seem to have an abundant supply of.

The grip on his slacks tightened as she glanced up at him, lilac eyes catching the hesitance in her irises. Neuvillette gives a subtle nod, giving just enough reassurance for the small creature to release his pant leg.

Reaching a mitten-like hand toward the golden sweets, it only took one bite for the hesitance in her eyes to be replaced by a bright twinkle.

“It’s tasty isn’t it?” Your lips formed a wider grin.

The Melusine responds with an eager nod, too occupied with bringing more of the buttery treat into her mouth.

At the sight of her restless chewing covering her cheeks with faint crumbs, you let out a giggle.

“I’ll give you the rest of the sweets if you tell me your name,” you offered.

After a few moments of the Melusine finishing her previous bite, she falls for the same trap he had many years ago.

“My name is Carole!” She chirps.

“What a wonderful name.” Your gaze softened further as you held out the treats, keeping your promise.

As Carole reaches for more, she glances back up. Wide eyes twinkling as she inquires him with the one thought currently on her mind.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, does the human world have more treats as delicious as these?”

Ah, it looks like the stroll Neuvillette took today to relieve himself of mounting troubles only led him to more.

The skies over the Court of Fontaine have been in a pensive stalemate, all too familiar clouds blocking azure hues. However, rain has yet to patter on the ground, as if the weather was unsure of itself.

A feeling shared by the Chief Justice currently sitting at his desk, reviewing the details of the day’s trials. Albeit, half heartily.

Much like the skies crowded with clouds, in the solitude of his office, his mind rang loud with thoughts. Neuvillette only had himself to blame for the current silence of his office, it’s been this way for around a week going on two now.

Lilac eyes peered over the tops of the papers toward the shut doors, concealing him away. There hasn’t been a knock on those doors for some time now, due to the diligent Melusines who followed his request.

Turning away potential visitors with crafted excuses of ‘The Chief Justice is handling a very important case’ or ‘My apologies, but the Chief Justice is very busy’.

Neuvillette recognizes that he’s currently no different than a child hiding away from the consequences of a broken vase.

How childish, he chides himself as he returns back to his responsibilities. How would the citizens of Fontaine react to their Chief Justice conducting himself in such a manner?

He’s sure if Lady Furina were to catch wind of his behavior, she’d be greatly entertained.

As if the mere mention of the nation’s archon presented a bad omen, the sturdy doors of his office swung open, revealing the face of a familiar visitor who’s been turned away one too many times.

“My my, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen the inside of this office, I almost forgot what it looks like,” you remark as your eyes hone in on him.

The child’s hiding place under the bed has been exposed.

“Good afternoon, I was not made aware you had any appointments with me.” Neuvillette’s own eyes trail past yours.

From behind the door frames the figures of two Melusines quickly dodged away from his sight. A silent admission of guilt on their part, and Neuvillette didn’t have to look hard to deduce the crime they’ve committed: Accepting bribes.

The evidence was right there in the form of buttery crumbs left on the corner of their mouths. Ah, you and with those conch madeleines of yours.

It’d be best for him to finally handle the situation at hand, one he’s been trying to maneuver out of.

“If I recall correctly, you were granted a vacation, why not take this chance to travel? It certainly is a prime opportunity-”

“Why have you been avoiding me, Monsieur?” you cut through the long-winded pleasantries and excuses.

His lips press together, by now he’s well accustomed to your brazenness. However, the absence of a familiar name only said in your voice made the guilt weigh heavier on his shoulders.

Guilt which originated a few weeks prior.

—

On a secluded riverbank, a routine walk under clear skies was halted. You were knelt down on the ground, uncaring of the sand sticking to the fabric of your clothes, as you held a Melusine between your arms. Two mittened hands clung to you as she soaked your shoulder with tears.

“W-why? Why did he have to go?” Her sobs interrupted by sudden hiccups.

As you rubbed circles into her back, something he saw humans do to soothe their crying young, Neuvillette watched from the side. Much like how he would observe those performances within the Opera Epiclese.

Liath is her name, a diligent Melusine who patrolled the grounds of the Palais Mermonia. By her side, there would be a guard poodle who’d matched her skips with his prances. An inseparable duo, or it’d be more accurate to say, they were once an inseparable duo.

Dogs are a species domesticated by humans, some might argue that they were created by humanity through generations of selection. So it stands to reason that they too would have a limited lifespan.

In fact, they have a lifespan even more restricted than that of the mortals who tamed them.

The Melusines have just begun walking amongst humans, there were still many aspects their sheltered minds have yet to grasp. The fleetingness of mortality is one of them.

Thus, Neuvillette did his best to caution them.

However, just like how laws can’t completely stop crimes, his words can’t completely prevent such tragedies. All he could do was try.

“I’m sorry for your grief, this was the very reason why I cautioned you against getting too attached to him… A dog’s life is brief-”

“Monsieur Neuvillette.”

The sentence died at the tip of his tongue as his eyes met yours. Gaze narrowed and brows furrowed, not even the Chief Justice dared to interject any further.

After you silenced him, your focus returned back to the grieving Melusine.

Slowly standing back up from the ground, her frame cradled in your arms as her sobs continued.

“I know it hurts,” you whispered, one hand patting her back, setting a steady rhythm reminding her to breathe.

“B-but why? W-why is it so sad?” she hiccuped.

You hummed, beginning to bounce her a bit within your hold.

“Wouldn’t it be sadder if you never met him?”

At your question, the Melusine stares at you through teary eyes. Expression lined with confusion.

“To have loved him, and for him to have loved you in return…isn’t that enough?” You cooed, taking steps away from the riverbank.

Still frozen in his place, the dragon could only stare at your back as it grew further and further away, soon disappearing from his view.

He had misspoke.

Neuvillette recalled last Autumn. As the vivid hues of the foliage shriveled up to nothing more than a shadow of their former beauty, you laid your mother to rest. Burying her in a cemetery which overlooked the direction of your homeland.

His unsolicited reprimand must have been throwing salt into a wound that still bled. He had overstepped his authority.

Murky clouds congregated in the once clear sky.

—

Those were the events that transpired, events that have led to the current stalemate happening in his office. Lilac eyes couldn’t seem to find the courage to connect with yours. Another excuse finding its way to his tongue.

“Didn’t you want to visit your homeland?”

“Oh?” Your brow quirks up, as your hands find their way to your hips.

“And then who’d be here to repair the tears in your robe when you inevitably step on them?” Obviously unimpressed by his suggestion.

“Surely there are other talented tailors here that can handle the task,” he rebukes.

“Oh? Will they also untangle your hair from the ornamentation of chairs?” You press on.

“I can manage.”

“Then can the Chief Justice also manage all the uniforms for the Melusines? Can he sew every button and ensure they fit correctly?”

Ah, with your last statement, Neuvillette concedes. A hush fills the room.

The Melusines are still new to walking amongst humans, not many were willing to tailor specialized uniforms for their short stature. Thus, you took up the mantle.

Perhaps out of a sense of responsibility, it was you who stirred their curiosity with those sweets of yours.

It seems responsibilities tethered you to the Court of Fontaine, much like they did to him. After a few breaths, as always, your voice shatters the stalemate.

“I’m not upset, Neuvi.”

With those words, his lilac eyes finally connect with yours. Finally able to see the soft curls at the corners of your lips.

It indeed has been a while since he last saw such a sight.

This time instead of replying with an excuse, he responds with a gentle hum.

“Ugh, why are your curtains so dusty? When was the last time you went outside?” It wasn’t long before your attention returned to the state of his office.

Strolling past his desk, your hands began to fuss with the thick drapes. Pouting at the dust that coated the lush fabrics.

All Neuvillette could do was follow with his gaze, papers long pushed to the side as for the first time in a while, an azure hue was seen peeking through the clouds.

From his observations, it’s instinctive for humans to avoid pain. However, it’d be hypocritical of him to judge mortals for actions he’s been guilty of.

“If I knew I had to work this hard now, I would’ve skipped more chores back at the estate,” you chuckle, pulling back the drapes to allow gold to illuminate his office.

To have loved and have been loved in return.

Was this the human rationale behind taming a dog? Having the reality of the future constantly lurking over each happy moment as the hands of time tick forward.

Why do humans dote on pets? Creatures that only live a fraction of a mortal life?

Are happy memories a fair exchange for bitter grief, or are they the cure?

As Neuvillette counts the strands of peeking silver that mingle within your lush locks, he prays he finds the answer soon.

The clacks of ornate shoes reverberate down once unfamiliar halls, a towering figure lurks past bustling nurses who bow their heads at the sight of the Chief Justice as he passes by.

With a body like his, there is no reason for him to wander among these halls. Or more accurately, there once was no reason.

The taps of his soles slowed as a familiar door came into view, the only detail which differentiated it from the rest of the hall being the brass numbers displayed. Bringing up a glove-clothed knuckle, delicate taps were placed against the wood.

Almost immediately, a muffled ‘come in’ resounded behind the frame. Granting the Iudex permission to turn the polished knob, allowing him entry as the hinges sang their welcome.

“My, my, if it isn’t Monsieur Neuvillette, to whom do I owe the pleasure?” A grin spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes.

Instantly his frame stiffens in the midst of returning the door to its frame. Bringing his free hand up to his face, Neuvillette coughs as to compose himself once more.

“Please, forgo the formalities.”

Though your eyes might not be as sharp as they once were, the delicate dusting of pink along his pointed ears couldn’t escape their sight. Making your eyes crinkle more.

Feeling entertained enough, you cease your teasing and gesture toward the vacant chair beside your bed.

Obediently, his towering figure strides up to the seat, the wood squeaking under his weight as he settles onto it.

By now, the dragon has grown accustomed the structure of greetings, beginning with a layer of pleasantries.

“How have you been fairing?” Lavender eyes scrutinize the sheets and pillows, searching for any unapparent flaws.

“It’s just a mild case of pneumonia,” you muse aloud.

Momentarily resting his eyes behind a slow blink, all he could do was sigh at your brazen nonchalantness. Yet with a ghost of a smile on the same lips that sighed.

It was a mild case of pneumonia, a common ailment during the frosty months. For someone as steadfast as you, such an illness might’ve surrendered to your stubbornness.

It might've surrendered… if your body had remained as it once was.

How unfortunate it all is, that time is so cruel to mortal creatures.

Attentive eyes detailing each crease that settled by your lips, remnants of the many grins and laughs that stretched your face.

The basking light of a selfish star catches in your hair, lush hues that have faded to brilliant ivory. A shade that you often compare to his while jesting, ‘We match now’.

However, Neuvillette begs to differ, the sunlight is much more luminous in your tresses.

Trailing his sights back to your gaze. Deep lines formed by countless dynamic expressions drew attention to the glimmer forever present in your irises. Like paths on a map that led lilac eyes to yours.

“How are you finding your stay?” At times, Neuvillette found himself wondering how the azure tides appeared from your view.

“Mm, quite uneventful, eating, staring out a window, sleeping.”

He hums in response, contemplating if he should inquire you about such subjects. As you ramble, perhaps the dragon could grasp onto an inkling of understanding.

“Well, at least I can say that my stay has been anything but lonely.” Your eyes motioning toward a corner.

The bland, sterile wall overshadowed by a mass comprised of trinkets ranging from local flowers to any object whose surface catches light.

The heap grows day by day as each Melusine continues to bring their earnest gratitude to the human who sew each stitch of their coats. A sight that could stir even the most placid lake.

“They’re such sweethearts.” Each one of your words coated with endearment.

Once more, all the dragon could respond with was a mellow hum. Slow breaths fill the complacent silence between two species, one blessed by time and one shunned by it.

Neuvillette has grown accustomed to the structure of conversations but, alas, he still has no talent for small talk.

In the absence of dialogue, the layer of short pleasantries long dissolving, Neuvillette is left with nothing but his inquiries. It was all he had left, and so it was all he could offer.

“Are there any regrets you hold?”

“Oh oh? Getting sentimental so out of the blue, Neuvi?” A familiar quirk graces your brow.

“It’s nothing of the sort, just a musing that drifted in my mind during a stroll, I wish to know your thoughts on the matter.”

“Mmm… I don’t feel that I have any regrets, living an honest life and having the fortune to never have stepped foot in the Fortress of Meropide.”

“Is that really all? You never did get to travel like you dreamed of back at the estate.”

“Haha, trying to stump me with that, Neuvi?” you chuckle.

Relaxing more into the pillows which propped up your weary frame, you trail your sights toward the window.

“Didn’t I tell you already? I’ll have plenty of time to travel once I become a cloud, I can go everywhere the sky can reach.” Smile softening on your lips.

Neuvillette’s folded hands grasp one another tighter on his lap, his own lips pressing each other into a thin line.

The conversation was teetering closer and closer to the unspoken reality looming like a shadow in the room.

He wasn’t sure when it started, maybe when the first silver strands appeared in your hair or when you discovered his skin won’t wrinkle along with you.

He wasn’t sure when your adamant belief of becoming a cloud once the shadow came to claim you started.

Neuvillette wonders if this daydream was the product of those fables you browsed when you laid upon a plush rug.

Or was it your personally crafted fable to explain the incomprehensible to a creature who couldn’t fully grasp it?

A creature whose skin didn’t wrinkle, whose bones didn’t grow brittle. A creature seemingly untouched by time.

Fairytales do serve this purpose for children, magical fantasies to make uncomfortable realities palatable to naive minds.

“...vi?... Ne…?... Neuvi.”

A hand marred with age takes hold of one glove-clad hand, and a pleasant heat radiates through the leather. Coaxing Neuvillette’s attention back from its escapade.

“My apologies, I was lost in thought for a moment.” He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

But the frown weighing down on your lips didn’t disappear, much like how retreating into musings couldn’t wash away any shadows.

Your chest moves with a deep inhale.

“Maybe I do have one regret,” you began.

Readjusting your ailing fingers in his hold so that he could hold them with equal endearment, his ears concentrate on your voice.

“Actually, I have many,” you sigh.

Before he could formulate a response, you continued.

“I wish I could have shoulder the burdens you carry. I wish you would’ve shared them with me. And I wish I could even understand them, then maybe I could have understood you more.” Turning to face him, your disheartened eyes center on his frame.

A child born from a maid, a maid who traveled to Fontaine in hopes of a better future for her child. That was your origin, an outsider with neither fame nor fortune.

Thus, even as you followed him from a secluded estate to the grand Palais Mermonia, you could never follow him in status nor influence.

As unrest grew, as injustices mounted, and as tragedies took away friends.

All you could do was repair tears, sew buttons, and pour him a crisp glass of spring water as you waited for the storm to wash despair away.

That was how you saw it. But Neuvillette rebukes that notion.

The dignity of a newly established Chief Justice, who kept stepping on his overly ornate robes, was carefully maintained by you.

The Melusine’s uniforms, which solidified their presence in the human world, were crafted by you.

The patient hand that always offered silent comfort in the suffocating courts was yours.

Standing by his side, even as your bones grew to ache, to ensure the storm would pass and the sun emerge once more.

“You’ve done more than enough.” He states the truth, grasping your hand just a bit tighter.

“Are you sure?” Those airy chuckles of yours made their appearance again.

“I never even learned your real name,” you interject.

A knife, red hot and fresh from the forge, would have hurt less than the guilt which tore through him at that moment.

The Chief Justice, the symbol of honesty and conviction, is unable to tell the simplest truth.

What shall he do now?

The power of a name is often underestimated, the exchanging of names signifying the forging of a bond. One that would forever tether him to you and you to him.

Oh, what shall he do now?

Before his hesitant lips could take action, they were halted by a squeeze from your ailing grasp. Firm and warm, like a light that guides him up from the bottom of a turbulent ocean.

“You don’t have to tell me now, Neuvi, tell me when I come back from my trip.” Those gentle eyes of yours smile at him.

Reeling his hand in closer to you with your own, until the softness of your lips was felt along covered knuckles.

A common practice in Fontaine, one Neuvillette had witnessed time and time again as he passed the lovers who congregated by the Fountain of Leucine. Actions that dedicated promises to one another.

“I swear, once I’ve traveled enough, once I grow bored of foreign scenery, I’ll fall back down like rain to your side.” You whisper into the kiss.

It was his turn now, and he shall honor this ritual. Tenderly bringing in your hand to him, Neuvillette places his oath.

“Then I swear, when you return, I’ll tell you my name.” He whispers in the kiss.

The sterile rooms echo your airy chuckles as he keeps your hand close to himself for just a bit longer.

“Mmm… Where I should go first? Maybe I’ll just amble about,” you ponder aloud.

Gracing him with a smile which stretched your face and brought that familiar glimmer into your eyes.

“I wish you well on your travels.” Neuvillette presses another kiss into your knuckles.

–

Spring was always the rainy season for Fontaine, with gentle temperate showers to welcome the budding blooms back from their Winter sleep.

However, this year the torrential downpour was anything but gentle.

Planned trips canceled for the season, clothes remaining damp in baskets, and streets empty of their vigor. Even the Melusines couldn’t bring a skip to their steps.

It was as if time itself was slowed by the burdensome downpour.

The cawing of crows as their wings beat against the dreary winds adds to the lonely hymn sung by the raindrops.

At once the cadence of the rain increased, the downpour growing heavier, and the violent pattering grew deafening. As if the sky was now belting out their sorrowful ballad.

The rain could try. The skies can cry all they would like. But time, a cruel and unforgiving mistress, won’t ever stop.

To have loved and been loved, was it truly enough?

In Neuvillete’s eyes, he was the tide and you were the shore. The ebb and flow of water as the tide and shore met, time and time again.

Each crash into the shore stirred up something perplexing and disorderly within the tide, irritating like the sand that mixed into the pristine waves.

So the tide tried to retreat into the lonesome ocean.

Each time, the shore followed through grains of sand which the tide couldn’t ever seem to purge himself of.

Each time, the shore beckoned the tide to return to the sandy beaches of humanity filled with perplexities and disorder.

And each time, the tide surrendered to the call of the shore, lured in by its warmth.

But now, the shore has eroded away.

Where does the tide go now?

Drifting now in the vastness of a lonesome ocean, carrying nothing but grains of sand. What shall the tide do now?

Neuvillette still has a lot to learn, for he couldn’t answer this riddle conjured by his own mind.

Unable to stop himself, the lone dragon stares off into the rain.

Eyes honing in the direction of a peaceful hill, one where a mother and child were laid to rest side by side overlooking a homeland they never got to visit.

Maybe that was the first destination of your journey.

During these past short years spent in this land, the young successor of the dragons has gained traitorous knowledge. One that undermines his preconceived purpose.

Neuvillette feels he’s grasped onto the faintest inkling of why humans, as fickle, perplexing, and fleeting as they are, were still the most beloved creatures of the gods.

Perhaps, he even understands now why those usurpers were willing to uproot the earth just for those beloved creatures.

The wet season transitions into the dry season, then the dry season will transition into another wet season. Again and again, on and on as the hands of a clock ticks forward.

Each new tick signifies another step forward in the march of time.

Each step brings change and each step pulls the present away from the past.

The rainy season of Spring was no longer as troublesome as it once was, as there was now a machine on the market that could dry clothes without the help of a bright star.

Melusines skip along down the paved paths of the Court of Fontaine as humans turn to greet them with endearing smiles.

New cafes line bustling streets as Clockwork Mekas make their evening patrols.

A great many changes have come to Fontaine, Neuvillette witnessed them all from his office at the Palais Mermonia.

A great many changes, yet some things are bound to stay the same. For example, the Chief Justice’s fondness for strolls along vacant riverbanks.

The gentle patters of raindrops lull the chaotic sympathy of trials, paperwork, and duties to a standstill. Reaching a hand out in front of him, Neuvillette catches a few drops in the palm of his gloved hand.

Lilac eyes examine the diminutive puddle in his hand before ultimately releasing the water back to the earth.

He supposes he’s been feeling a bit nostalgic as of late, like a child recalling a story which once soothed them to a peaceful slumber. How childish it was for him to believe he could somehow catch a certain raindrop in his hands.

Turning up toward the drab sky, he searches through the endless and identical droplets that fall down and leave trails along his face.

No, not yet. Perhaps they have yet to see all that the sky has to offer.

Neuvillette returns his focus to the path in front of him. The rhythmic clacks of his shoes match with the soft drumming of the rain, and in the midst of this harmony a voice sings out:

“Hydro dragon… uh… Hydro dragon, don’t cry.”

Halting his stride. Judging by the unfamiliarity of their tongue pronouncing the lullaby, Neuvillette deduces they must be a visitor to Fontaine.

Ah that local legend, just how far has it spread? Nevertheless, an unfortunate traveler who’s unfamiliar with Fontaine’s seasons is now caught in this rain.

It would only be polite to offer them some assistance as the Iudex of this nation. Thus, he turns in the direction of the call.

His suspicions were confirmed once his gaze landed on a distressed frame, their face obscured by the jacket they held over their head in a makeshift umbrella.

It only took a few steps for the towering man to make it to their side.

“There is a tree you can take shelter under just ahead,” he advises the lost traveler.

Now aware of his presence in front of them, they lifted the jacket from their line of sight to peer up at him. Revealing the details of their face to lilac eyes for the first time.

That was all it took for the symphony of rain to come to an end.

Soft drumming decrescendos into tranquility. It seems as if there will be an earlier welcome of flowers.

“Oh?” You gaze up at the azure hue now peeking out from receding gray, astonishment reflected in the glimmer of your eyes.

You’ve only heard of a local Fontainian legend from a guide pamphlet offered to tourists as you awaited the Aquabus.

When the rain suddenly began to pour as you ambled about a riverside, in a moment of desperation as you scrambled for shelter under a thin jacket you uttered the phrase.

You weren’t sure if the hydro dragon could understand your botched pronunciation, but it looks like he did.

Turning back to face the kind stranger, you wanted to convey your amazement to him. But the words fade just off the tip of your tongue when you peek back at the towering man.

Your eyebrows scrunch together as dumbstruck eyes widen at the sight of the drenched man.

“Mister?… Are you alright?” You scan over him, turning your attention away to sift through your pockets.

How bewildering it must be for you to witness a well-dressed and noble figure drenched to the bone. However, Neuvillette made no attempt to stop the rivulets rolling down his cheeks, a parting gift from the Spring showers.

He wonders as his gaze never left your frame, were tears perhaps this warm too?

“Here.” Your concern-ridden hand offers up a neatly folded handkerchief to the drenched man.

As your eyes connect with his, a strange sensation tickled the back of your mind. As if it was trying to recall where you’ve seen the familiar lavender hue.

Maybe they matched the shade of a flower field you stumbled upon during your travels, or maybe that lilac luster was revealed to you in a dream.

A strange familiarity you couldn’t name.

“Thank you very much.” He accepts the simple piece of cloth with tenderness rivaling that of conservators handing the renowned paintings of old masters.

The clouds were long gone by now, perhaps they felt that their purpose had long been fulfilled. The golden rays of a lone star shone with all their brilliance, finally free from behind their blanket of drap clouds.

It was only now that Neuvillette found out. The rain he had been yearning for all these years did in fact see all that the sky had to offer.

They had grown bored of drifting over vast plains, missing the picturesque countryside of Fontaine. Or perhaps their curiosity grew too great, wishing to finally hear a truth that was kept from them.

So much so, they quietly fell down from the sky, to return to his side again.

Much like the hands in a clock, the cycle of water and earth follows a similar circular path.

The rain had eroded away stubborn earth with its diligent drumming over the years.

Bit by bit and piece by piece until stone fractures into bits of sand. Over and over until a sandy beach was formed by the side of a patient sea.

Then the tide will reunite with its long-awaited shore, to return the sand and promise it cradled within its waves for so long.

~Fin

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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runariya · 2 months ago

Text

The Auction (JJK) • Chapter 6 FINALE

pairing: wolf hybrid!Jungkook x cat hybrid!female reader genre: mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, dystopian!AU, S2L, dark romance, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: foul language, angst, being held hostage, obsession and possessiveness, fluff, smoking, OC's parents are still shit, scorpion hybrid (sorry angel, I had it already written lol), multiple murder, mentions of bodies, semi-graphic description of beating someone to death, blood, wounds, explicit sexual content, smut, oral (m. receiving), JK whines a lot but not sub, unprotected sex, marking and bonding, knotting, love confessions <3, lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 3K

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • masterlist

Three things.

There are three things you realised while living with Jungkook.

One—you’ll never, ever, under any circumstances, humiliate him again in public. Not because he doesn’t deserve it sometimes, but because it’s the dumbest and most dangerous thing you could do. Not just for him and his whole organisation, but for you too—it puts your life at risk.

Sure, him killing someone in that nightclub didn’t change much, but his friends seeing him like that, howling, has strained their relationship, and you’re not sure how he’s managed to keep them in line since. You know killing them off wouldn’t be an option to regain his control though.

Of course, you’d apologised to Jungkook more than once, and he brushed it off like it was nothing, like even though you’d hurt him, he’d still forgive you.

Which brings you to the second thing you realised.

As much of a lunatic as Jungkook is, he’s kind and loving to you. After the branding—that was the first and last time he hurt you physically—he’s never laid a hand on you again or said anything cruel. You still don’t fully understand why he feels the way he does about you, but you’ll get the answers out of him soon, once he emerges from his study to join you by the fireplace.

Just yesterday, you’d asked Jungkook if you could call your parents. To your surprise, he let you without much thought, but stayed right beside you, insisting the phone be on speaker so he could hear.

The call didn’t last long, no. After a few rings, your dad picked up, and you couldn’t help but cry and call his name, only for him to hang up straightaway. You tried again, but no one answered after that.

That’s when you knew Jungkook had been telling the truth all along. And that’s when you finally saw him for who he really is: someone whose only goal in life is to keep you safe and loved, even if it started in a way you hated.

“Don’t think about it,” Jungkook says, sitting down next to you, his arm draped behind you on the headrest as he kisses your temple.

“About you being whipped for me?”

“That you can think about.”

He pulls you close, and you lean into him, soaking in his warmth and scent. The penthouse is still too cold for you; you only feel warm when you’re near Jungkook or the fireplace. One day, you’ll have to ask him to turn up the heating a bit more.

“Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

“Why me?”

There’s an ease in the way you both speak, in how comfortable he seems, and you wonder if it’ll last. Jungkook knows exactly what you’re asking, like he always does, so there’s no hesitation in his voice as his hand moves absentmindedly, tracing soothing circles on your shoulder.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

Jungkook stares off, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips as he lights a cigar.

“Beomseok’s little shop around that dodgy corner. You were sixteen, I think. Always working, every shift it seemed, just to help your shitty family when you should’ve been enjoying life.”

You sit up, startled that he knows about your past.

“One of the many times I stopped by, you cleared out the whole shelf because a bug got stuck in your fur or something.” He chuckles, as if picturing it. “And I helped you. Always did after that.”

“The scrawny boy in the black hoodie and face mask! That was you?”

“That was me.” He nods, locking eyes with you, his gaze full of adoration.

“You made my life so much better back then.” You smile, your hand moving up and down his thigh.

“Back then, I swore I wouldn’t drag you into my world, but I’d keep you safe. Neither worked out, clearly.”

“But I’m safe,” you cut in, unable to bear the sadness in his eyes.

“No, as long as you’re with me in this world, you’re not.”

“Jungkook, I am safe with you,” you insist, determined, because it’s true. You’ve never felt safer than when you’re with him. Not back then, and not now.

Jungkook just nods, as if he’s not entirely convinced but doesn’t want to argue. It’s enough for now, you reckon, and with a bit of courage, knowing you’ve never thanked him properly for all he did for you, you lean in just as he takes another puff of his cigar and kiss his cheek.

“Thanks for saving me, Jungkook.”

He smiles, pulls you against his chest, kisses the top of your head, and mumbles, “Anytime, love.”

You know Jungkook brought you catnip just yesterday when he came back from ‘work’. You also know it should be with your baking supplies, but there’s no trace of it now. You’ve been through every cabinet twice by this point, even pulled out all the tableware just to be sure. But nothing.

There’s no way you’re going out now to buy the ones you’ve been snacking on up until a few days ago, especially after learning from some TikTok that they’re unhealthy because of… well, you don’t even remember anymore. But you’ve looked up a recipe since, and you need to bake some asap before the withdrawal hits too hard.

Knowing Jungkook definitely knows where the catnip is, and that he’s currently two floors down—a floor he’s actually banned you from entering, though he did give you the passcode, your birthdate, in case of emergencies—you head straight for the lift, figuring this is the very definition of an emergency.

You’re shocked when you step out; the floor’s empty of furniture, the walls bare, like an unfinished building. Still, you make your way to the only visible door, soft grunts coming from behind it, and you reckon it’s just his gym.

You walk in without knocking—and freeze, eyes wide at the sight in front of you. It’s not a gym at all, but a floor dedicated to torture.

There are several dead, bloodied bodies off to the side, with Jimin standing nearby, his bored eyes fixed on the brutal scene unfolding before him.

A man’s tied to a chair, barely conscious, as Jungkook, his back to you, hammers down bloody fists over and over into the guy’s face.

It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to stop abruptly and turn, his eyes locking onto yours in shock, sensing your presence before he even hears you.

“Leave!”

But you can’t tear your gaze away from the scorpion hybrid slumped in the chair—the very man who sold you at the auction. Looking again at the bodies, you recognise each one of them now.

The one who kidnapped you and every single person you crossed paths with during your captivity.

“I said leave!” Jungkook barks again, but when you meet his eyes, it’s not anger you see—it’s worry.

You just shake your head, walking silently over to stand beside Jimin, who doesn’t dare say a word. Jungkook looks unsure, but when you give him a nod, something shifts in his expression, like a curtain falling over his very soul.

He turns back to his victim, fists resuming their precise rhythm, as if nothing had interrupted him in the first place.

You’d always thought watching Jungkook work would make you sick, would make you feel something. And while there’s still anger bubbling inside you at the sight of the men who wronged you, you don’t feel much of anything else. There’s not a single part of you that’s repulsed by the sight of death caused by Jungkook, not even at the blood or the life slowly draining from the man in front of you.

Jungkook’s assault isn’t anything dramatic, either—it’s like he’s training on a punching bag, nothing more. No show, no curses, no shouting—just the unrelenting, wet clap of fist meeting flesh.

With one final uppercut, it’s over. The sickening crack of the man’s neck rings out, and Jungkook stops, panting quietly, his body still as he stares at what he’s done—for you.

“Let’s go home, Jungkook,” you call softly.

“You *are* home!” he snaps.

“I am,” you reply, your voice and eyes loving as his gaze meets yours, finally registering your words.

Jungkook’s tense muscles relax at that, and with a single nod, he walks with you to the door, keeping a small distance as he instructs over his shoulder, “Take care of the rest.”

“Yes, boss.”

There’s nothing said on the way back to the penthouse, and you reckon Jungkook needs a minute to calm down, adrenaline still too prominent in his scent. His clothes are soaked in blood, the smell slightly bothering you now, but it’s the ticking of his jaw and the worry in his eyes that has you more concerned.

Sure, you can read him—his eyes and scent give him away without much thought—but you never fully know what’s going on inside. He’s the first to enter the bedroom, and before you’ve even had the chance to close the door, he’s already disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

You leave him be for now, giving him space to literally wash away his sins before you need to talk, not about the catnip, but to finally tell him what he means to you, to thank him.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook emerges from the bathroom, towel wrapped low around his hips, happy trail on display, and for a second, you lose track of what you wanted to say, though you quickly recover.

“Sit down,” you say, already perched on the bed.

He’s hesitant, you can see it in the way his eyes dart around, but he still obliges.

Again, he doesn’t sit right beside you, leaving a bit of space you can’t stand. So, you shuffle closer, taking his hands and inspecting the split knuckles. There aren’t many, and the few that are split are minor, probably because he’s used to this—knows how to throw a punch without hurting himself.

“Thank you, Jungkook.”

“It’s not enough.” He shakes his head.

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

You think for a moment, and then it hits you. “You are enough, Jungkook.”

His head snaps to you, searching your face for a lie that isn’t there.

“You are enough. This is enough. I want to stay. This is my home, and you’re right—I don’t hate you.”

Jungkook’s hand reaches for your face, cradling it softly, as if he needs to touch you to believe it’s real.

“I love you, Jungkook, and I’m sorry for being difficult.”

“You’re not, love, never were.”

There’s a moment for everything, and you reckon this is the moment you want to kiss him, to be kissed by him. You press your hands to his bare chest, leaning forward until your breaths mingle, barely any space left between your lips and his.

You see his eyelids flutter shut, and with that, you close the distance, capturing his soft upper lip. It feels like your life has finally clicked into place, like you’ve been waiting for this moment forever without knowing it.

You straddle his lap as your tongue plays with his, not in a battle for dominance but as equals, moaning softly into the kiss like a song composed by only you. Occasionally, a whine escapes his throat, and you don’t mind in the slightest, knowing it’s just his genes, just as your purring is from yours.

“Please touch me, Jungkook.”

This time, he listens, his hands cupping your ass and giving it a firm squeeze, pushing your clothed cunt against his hard-on. You want him, want him to claim you, so you speed up the process of undressing, not only yourself but finally pulling off the towel around his waist while kneeling between his legs.

Looking up, your purring louder now, you meet his dilated eyes, seeing your reflection in his pupils. He wants you just as much as you want him, and the knowledge feels so damn satisfying, you can’t help but wrap your tiny hands around his thick cock.

Jerking him off is easy, his precum already slicking his shaft, making your strokes smooth.

“Yes, kitten,” Jungkook breathes, his eyes never leaving yours, too captivated by what you’re doing to close them.

The sight of him has you practically drooling, unable to swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. It’s your cue to take him properly. You stick out your tongue, licking from his balls to the tip, then taking him all the way into your mouth until you can’t breathe anymore. Your purring gets louder from the taste of him, drawing an approving moan from his lips.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. So fucking good, kitten.”

Spurred on by his words, you try sucking from your throat rather than your mouth, massaging his tight balls with the excess saliva as you gag slightly from his size. It’s exactly what he wants, what he needs, his abs clenching as his breathing becomes ragged in seconds.

You feel invincible, like a goddess, taking him in like a champ, not stopping until he grabs your face and pulls you back, both hands cupping your cheeks.

“Enough,” he pants, his eyes burning into yours as he helps you up, too dazed to do it yourself.

Jungkook’s mouth is on yours in an instant when you fall onto the bed, not caring about his own taste as he devours you, his tongue tracing along your lips and neck. He pauses there, snapping out of his instincts for a second, as if he’s debating whether to mark you.

“Mark me,” you moan, your cunt grinding against his thigh, pulling his head closer by his hair.

Jungkook doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he kisses your neck, squeezing your tit, his fingers toying with your nipple.

You never tire of the sight of his back, the way his muscles flex with every movement of his head, while his touch sets every nerve ending on your body on fire.

“Let me love you right first,” he murmurs against your lips, lining up his cock with your soaked cunt and pushing inside as he kisses you.

The stretch and burn are familiar, but it’s different now, with him finally touching you, holding you. It’s not rushed or wild like it was when you fucked yourself on him before. It’s slow and loving, his thrusts deep until he’s buried fully inside you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop kissing you, doesn’t stop kneading your breasts as he picks up his pace, his cock sliding out just enough to keep you connected before thrusting back in, uniting your bodies over and over again.

You love this side of him, love every side of him, and it’s all you can manage to moan, his name like a prayer on your lips. Not knowing how long you’ll last, even though you never want it to stop, you grip his head, pushing him up slightly to meet your eyes.

His brows are furrowed, his rosey lips swollen and shiny, begging for more kisses, but you hold back for just a moment.

“Please mark me, Jungkook.”

“I won’t control you, kitten,” he pants, his thrusts not faltering.

“No, please bond with me.”

Jungkook almost collapses on top of you, his whine so loud it drowns out the wet sounds of his cock driving into you.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” you cry out as he hits just the right spot.

You expect him to go for it immediately, but instead, he kisses your neck again, taking his time, almost reverent in how he prepares to mark you.

He takes one last deep inhale of your scent before finally sinking his fangs into your neck, growling, “You’re mine.”

The added rush of arousal from his bite, combined with the way his hips move faster, has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. You hope Jungkook feels the same, wanting to share everything with him.

When he pulls back to admire the mark, he kisses you again, harder this time, the taste of your blood on his tongue not dampening the moment.

“Mark me too,” he moans against your lips, his sweat dripping down his perfect nose onto your face.

Your hand runs up his back, tangling in his hair as he exposes his neck for you, and you guide him closer to your mouth.

Taking a deep breath, his scent making you dizzier than ever, you sink your teeth into his neck—not because it’ll do anything permanent, just leaving small marks from your tiny canines—but it’s symbolic, and that’s all that matters for both of you.

“I love you,” he whines out, and it’s your bite that gives Jungkook the final push. His cock swells even more, his thrusts becoming irregular. “Where, love?”

“Inside!” You mewl, the added sensation of his cock growing inside you pushing you over the edge too, your legs wrapping tightly around his hips to keep him close.

“Fuck, ___, I love you so much,” Jungkook shudders, coming just as forcefully as he entered your life, nearly paralysing you with the sheer amount of cum filling you.

It’s the last push you need as your orgasm bursts with his, your cunt clenching around him like second nature.

Jungkook starts to pull out, but you hold him in like a vice, wanting him to knot you and affirm again that this is final. That he is your finality.

There’s not much said but the soft love confessions whispered against your lips and skin, not much done but lying together, basking in the safety and love you’ve found in each other.

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • masterlist

a/n 2: tysm for reading and being patient with updates 🥹 lmk what you think in any way you like! Character asks and drabble requests for this fic are still open 💕

Check out my other work here!

taglist: @jksusawife, @kookiewithluv, @justjkkkkk, @staytinyville, @jaiuneamesolitaiire , @ericawantstoescape , @mjuser, @sp1derk0ok , @fluttershyvanilla, @lachimolalajeon , @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @llallaaa , @m00njinnie , @passionandsuga , @scuzmunkie , @lerasi , @11thenightwemet11 , @bts-ruu , @metalheadfangirl2001 , @unadulteratedwitcher , @qmsvpx, @minghaosimp, @kittycatkrissa, @weareatthebadlands, @fluttershy-vanilla, @bangtannie7, @closer-to-jungkook, @dreamcatcherluvr, @blueofocean

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supernovafics · 7 months ago

Note

hiiii i just read your entire i’ll be there for you universe and I’M OBSESSED❤️❤️ Friends to lovers is my favourite trope ever and I love how you wrote a cute slow burn without characters being toxic and mean towards each other bc that happens a lot!

I was wondering how would their parents react to them being together?? And when do they decide to tell their parents, and how it goes down? It’s totally okay if you don’t want to write it but I thought it might be cute!🌸🌸

𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k words

warnings: explicit language, fluff, implied smut, very slight parent drama

summary: in which your parents finally find out that you and steve are dating

author's note: thanks for the request! (also for @hippiefairy02 since you requested basically the same thing like a week ago lol). i didn’t really know how to end this one so it kinda just ends lol<3 enjoy though<333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Spring 1986

The movie became long forgotten after only the first twenty minutes, which was somewhat of a routine at this point. It was a good thing that you both had seen this one already.

If you were to look back at who started everything this time around you’d toss the blame onto Steve for initiating the first kiss, but he’d put the blame on you for settling yourself close into his side and giving him a “certain look.”

You were far from thinking about who started what, though, because all you could focus on was the feel of Steve settled on top of you and his mouth against yours.

Your hands started traveling underneath his plain white t-shirt and one of his took hold of your hip, teasingly slipping a finger or two beneath the waistband of your small pajama shorts. Your legs were tangled with his in a way that was a bit awkward because the couch was way too small to do anything completely comfortably, but you two were okay with making it work for the time being.

You maneuvered a bit, attempting to push up so that your head could find the pillow that was leaning against the arm of the couch, and the abrupt movement made your forehead bump his.

It didn’t even hurt, but Steve still pulled back and looked at you concerned. “You okay?”

You nodded as you tilted your head up a bit to press a quick kiss against his nose. “I’m fine. You okay?”

“‘M good.” He nodded too and then slotted his lips against yours again.

You were pulling away after only a second. “Wait, let’s switch. I feel like I’m gonna accidentally knee you or something.”

“Or we can just go to one of our rooms,” He suggested as his lips found your neck, which immediately made your eyes slip shut and you had to bite your lip to hold back the contented sigh that you wanted to let out.

You almost said yes to Steve’s words, it would’ve been so easy to say yes, but you were trying to keep your thinking somewhat rational, so you shook your head instead. “If we do that, we’re not gonna come out for the rest of the night. And we said that we’d at least try to study for the test we have on Thursday once the movie’s over.”

“The movie we’re not watching,” He mumbled against your neck.

“Still counts,” You said, lightly pushing him away, and he conceded as you shifted things around so that you were on top of him, settled nicely in his lap with your legs on either side of him. “See? Much better.”

Before he could potentially say anything in response, you pushed a hand through his hair and leaned down to kiss him. His fingers started teasingly playing with the hem of your t-shirt before simply finding a home on your hips and squeezing you there.

It was almost too obvious what should’ve happened next and both of you could feel the energy shifting into something a bit more heated, more needy. You would’ve lifted from his lap for a second so that he could slide down his sweatpants and boxers, and then you’d simply pull your underwear and shorts to the side because it would’ve been too much work to fully shimmy out of them.

But then the phone started ringing in the kitchen and everything that felt like it was right on the verge of happening was pushed out of the window.

You detached your mouth from Steve’s and sat up. “I’ll get it.”

He let out a groan, head falling back against the throw pillow and hands still on your hips. “Don’t.”

“We have six needy kids and a Robin, I think we have to answer it.”

“Sadly, that makes sense,” His grip on you loosened and you finally maneuvered off of him after pressing a quick kiss against his forehead.

You went to the kitchen, where the phone was, and picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hi,” It was easy to decipher your mom’s voice on the other end of the line. “What are you doing Saturday?”

It wasn’t surprising to you that your mom completely skipped past any sort of small talk; the “How are you’s” and “How’ve you been’s.” She always got straight to the point.

“Me and Steve are gonna be out of town this weekend,” You answered. “I planned this whole date thing and we leave Friday night.”

It was completely accidental; so accidental that at first, you didn’t even register what you had just told her.

“You and Steve are what?”

“We’re gonna be in Chicago this weekend for—” You stopped abruptly, finally realizing what you said before. “Oh. Oh, yeah, um, we’re dating.”

Her gasp was immediate. “Oh my God.”

You couldn’t decipher what that reaction was. She sounded surprised, definitely, but you couldn’t tell if it was a happy kind of surprise or upset.

“How long has it been?”

“A few months.” You shut your eyes then, bracing yourself for what you knew was about to be nothing short of an interrogation.

“What? Why haven’t you told us sooner?”

In all honesty, it wasn’t like either you or Steve were planning on keeping it from your parents forever, it had just never come up in the handful of conversations you’d had with them over the last few months.

“It’s just, I don’t know. It hadn’t come up yet,” You ultimately answered. “And plus, you never really cared that much about my other relationships.”

“Sure, but Steve’s completely different. This is great!” She told you, and you inwardly sighed in relief that she was happy about the news; even though you were certain that you wouldn’t have cared about having her “approval” either way. “Does Christine know?”

“No.”

“Okay, I’m gonna call her right now,” Your mom told you, and you were actually perfectly okay with her ending the call with you right then to go call Steve’s mom instead. “Oh, this is so great!”

She was hanging up before you could say anything else and you were sighing as you placed the phone back on the hook.

“I’m sorry,” You told Steve as you joined him back on the couch.

He looked at you, confused. “What happened?”

“I accidentally just told my mom that we’re dating, and now she’s calling your mom to tell her too.”

“Oh, okay, that’s not that bad,” He shrugged. “I guess it had to happen eventually.”

“Yes, but I was kinda hoping that that day would be years from now. Like, when we sent out wedding invitations or something.”

In your head, telling your friends about you and Steve was one thing, but telling your parents was something entirely different. Your friends were heavily involved in your life, and you knew that you couldn’t keep it from them forever because of that; and then it eventually just felt right to finally be honest about it, anyway.

Telling your parents, on the other hand, was the farthest thing from your mind.

“They would probably kill us if we did that. Especially our moms because you know that they’re gonna wanna be involved in the whole thing,” Steve told you, and you knew he was right.

There were some few and far in-between moments where your parents would switch and pretend to be real parents that were actually involved in their kid’s life. Usually, it only happened during the holidays; Christmases spent pretending that you were a happy and normal family or Thanksgivings that were used to prove the same thing. In a way, it made sense for this news to warrant that same kind of treatment.

You groaned as you leaned further into Steve. “I hate that you’re right.”

Your mom was calling back barely twenty minutes later, right as the two of you were in the middle picking up where you had left off before the first call. Steve answered that time, pulling his sweatpants back up and heading over to the kitchen, and you slipped your shirt back over your head.

“Oh, um, yeah, that’s fine. That night is good,” You heard him say. “We’ll be there.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at whatever he was agreeing to right then.

He hung up a few moments later and gave you an apologetic look. “Okay, now I’m the one that needs to say sorry.”

“What happened?”

“It was your mom,” Steve started as he sat next to you again. “She said she talked to my mom and they’re both really happy about us dating. And they decided that they wanna have a “celebratory dinner” kind of thing with us.”

“No.”

Steve nodded. “It’s gonna be at your parent’s house on Thursday since she knows that we’re going to Chicago for the weekend. I couldn’t think of an excuse on the spot, so I was just agreeing.”

“Oh, God. I feel like this is gonna be like Thanksgiving all over again.”

“Hopefully the dessert is better this time around,” He said, attempting to lighten the mood, and you let out a laugh.

“If not, then we will definitely be ending the night at Third Street,” You told him and he nodded in agreement before pulling you into his lap.

“Can we please go to my room?” He asked, arms circling around you. “I feel like the couch is cursed.”

You smiled, lips finding his for a brief second. “Okay, yes, I’ll allow it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

This night didn’t feel anything like the Thanksgiving dinner that you and Steve had been forced to have all those months ago; at least, not at first. During that night, your parents had gone on and on about their ski trip that was coming up and there were barely any moments where the conversation was focused on you and Steve.

Now things were different because all they cared about was talking about you two, which did make sense given the reasoning for the dinner. But still, you knew your parents, and this amount of excited fanfare surrounding the two of you felt entirely unexpected.

Your dad was jokingly giving his “stamp of approval” for the relationship, and Steve’s dad was saying something about how you’d always been a good influence on Steve. And then your moms went on tangent after tangent going down memory lane and telling stories about you and Steve as kids.

“I’d been hoping this would happen ever since the cruise,” Christine said, a happy smile on her face. “You two were practically attached at the hip the entire time, and that still hasn’t changed.”

“Yes, you guys were always so cute together. Oh, and remember when you took each other to your proms? I think I still have the pictures somewhere,” Your mom said, smiling happily as well, and you honestly wouldn’t have even minded if she brought out the pictures.

Eventually, though, things shifted, and toward the end of dinner, the conversation moved away from you and Steve. Instead, your parents started reminiscing about old moments from their collective friendship that didn’t involve you and Steve at all. This made sense to you; you knew that it could only be a matter of time before they finally started talking about themselves.

With the topic of you and Steve long forgotten, you two slipped away from the table, no one noticing or stopping you, and retreated to your old bedroom that was just down the hall.

You sat at the foot of your old bed and watched as Steve simply walked around, taking a look at the things that you had decided to leave behind and not bring along to the apartment.

You kicked your shoes off and crossed your legs under you. “Tonight actually hasn’t been completely unbearable.”

“Yeah, weirdly, it hasn’t,” Steve agreed as he walked over to you and leaned down to press a kiss against the top of your head. “There’s no dessert though, so we’ll have to go to Third Street.”

“Do you think they’d notice if we slipped out of my window right now?”

He laughed a bit. “Fifty-fifty shot.”

“Personally, I wouldn’t mind taking those odds,” You said, smiling up at him.

“I would say okay, but I think I have to be the reasonable one here and say that we should just walk out the front door like normal people.”

His words only made you smile wider because usually, it was you who would say the logical thing to do in situations.

“We’ve swapped roles tonight,” You said as you stood up and put your shoes back on. “I think you do a great job as the reasonable one.”

“I don’t like it. You can have that job back after tonight,” He told you, smiling as his hand found yours.

You only nodded as you and he headed out of your bedroom. Your parents were still at the dining table, laughing about something that you didn’t hear.

“Hey, we’re gonna head out. We have to wake up early tomorrow, so yeah,” You said, pulling their attention onto you and Steve. It was a lie, but it felt like it would be a plausible enough excuse. “Thanks for tonight.”

“Yeah, it was great,” Steve agreed with a quick nod.

A slew of “Goodnight’s” and “Drive safe’s” came from your parents, which you two nodded and smiled at before exiting your house.

You let out a sigh of relief once you were sat in the passenger seat of Steve’s car.

The night hadn’t been horrible, you’d experienced much worse dinners with your parents. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t glad that this one was over.

“So, are we gonna be basic tonight and do milkshakes, or have whatever pie Mary made for the night?” You asked as you played with the radio and then left it on a station that you’d probably end up changing in a minute or two.

Steve took a quick glance at you and smiled. “If she made apple, then I think the answer is obvious.”

“Very true,” You nodded and smiled back at him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #stranger things series #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #posting this and running away for the rest of the night🫡#see yall in the morning🫶🏾

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angelsfics · 17 days ago

Text

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter fic recs

i've recently started reading drarry, so here are some of the very favorites i've found. it's not a comprehensive list but just some i enjoyed! feel free to send me more recs.

Aevitumer written by MarshmalowMilkshake ♡ 95k words, rated M. Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort

Another Heart Whispers Back written by slytherco ♡ 53k words, rated E. Tags: Friends to Lovers, Pining Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Harry Potter, Casual Intimacy, Sexual Tension & Romantic Tension, Humor, Blind First Dates, Idiots in Love, First Time, Cuddling

Dwelling written by aideomai ♡ 83k words, rated T. Tags: Friends to Lovers, Curses, Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Twists & Turns

Hothouse Flowers and Hot Hot Showers written by azalea_larae & boshspice ♡ 101k words, rated E. Tags: Porn with Plot, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Muggle Studies, Studying Muggle Abroad, Roommates, Cuddling, Sexual Tension, Fluff

My Fucking Flatmate written by toxik_angel ♡ 82k words, rated E. Tags: Canon Divergence, Good Draco Malfoy, Draco Defects, Hogwarts 7th Year, Roommates, Harry and Draco in the Muggle World, Youtube, Tension, Fluff, Humor

Now I Know In Part written by dodgerkedavra ♡ 39k words, rated E. Tags: Curses/Curse Damage, Cursed Harry Potter, Curse-Breaker Draco Malfoy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Cottagecore Draco Malfoy

Soulmates (series) written by dodgerkedavra ♡ 27k words, rated E. Tags: Soulmates, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Art/Artist Harry Potter, Bookseller Draco Malfoy, Protective Draco Malfoy, Running Away, PTSD, Grief/Mourning, Post-War, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

The Bolthole written by aideomai & Tepre ♡ 54k words, rated E. Tags: Grief, Cottage, Roommates, Bed Sharing, Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Harry Potter is a Hoarder

The Lesson of You written by thecouchsofa ♡ 65k words, rated E. Tags: Accidental Child Acquisition, Time Travel, Kid Fic, Fluff, Family Fluff, Forced Proximity

The Softer Side of Draco Malfoy written by QueenofThyme ♡ 29k words, rated M. Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Potions Accident, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Harry stalking Draco

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain written by Faith Wood (faithwood) ♡ 21k words, rated E. Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Third Drawer Down written by eleventy7 ♡ 1.6k words, rated T. Tags: Hurt, Angst

Way Down We Go written by xiaq ♡ 109k words, rated T. Tags: Werewolf Harry Potter, Post-Canon, EWE, Domestic, Healing & Recovery, Redemption, Roommates, Chronic Illness, Hurt/Comfort.

what husbands are for written by softlystarstruck ♡ 52k words, rated E. Tags: Werewolves & Vampires, Political/Arranged Marriage, Werewolf Harry, Vampire Draco, Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, Trans Male & Autistic Main Characters

Who we are in the shadows written by Quicksilvermaid ♡ 99k words, rated E. Tags: Werewolves, Werewolf Harry Potter, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Secrets/Lies, Angst, Possessive Behavior, Falling In Love, Enemies to Lovers

Within You Without You written by arminaa ♡ 39k words, rated E. Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mind Healer Draco Malfoy, Recovery, Anxious/Lonely/Depressed Harry Potter, Harry Potter Gets Therapy, EWE, Pining, Falling in Love, First Love/First Time

#drarry #draco/harry #draco malfoy #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction #draco x harry #harry potter fanfic #fanfiction #drarry fanfiction #drarry fanfic #drarry fic recs #drarry fics

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hannie-dul-set · 7 months ago

Text

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence.

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#jeno x you #lee jeno x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream sc #nct dream scenarios #nct sce #nct scenarios #jeno x reader #nct drabbles #nct au #jeno au #this is not proofread btw fuck it we ball!!!

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starkeyslibrary · 9 days ago

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That's So True

Inspired by That's so True by Gracie Abrams

pairing: reader x drew starkey

a/n: i just realized that i've never formally introduced myself on here! my bad, my name is rhodee, 21 years old, living in europe and currently studying law. i love writing imagines that'll hopefully make you laugh, swoon or cry (sorry not sorry) a little too hard <3

stick around if you’re into dreamy characters, plot twists, or just want to scream about Drew with me!

hope i'll get to know so many of y'all on here!! okay that's all, enjoy <3

The night Drew had left for the premiere, you told yourself it was just another event, like all the others. You even tried to convince yourself you didn't mind staying home, avoiding the chaos of the red carpet. It's his night, you thought, forcing a smile as he kissed you goodbye, his cologne lingering in the air long after the door closed.

But as the hours stretched on, the gnawing sense of isolation grew. It wasn't just tonight - it had been building for months. Drew's career was skyrocketing, and with every interview, press tour and glamorous event, it felt like he was slipping further away from you. He'd promised that things would calm down after this movie, that he'd have more time. But those promises were always vague, like a finish line that kept moving further out of reach.

The photos hit social media just before midnight. Drew, looking devastatingly handsome in his suit, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his co-star, Odessa A’ Zion. The fan comments flooded in, gushing about how perfect they looked together, how the chemistry was undeniable.

You slammed your laptop shut. It wasn't jealousy - not exactly. You trusted him, but trust didn't erase the ache of feeling invisible.

The sound of Drew's keys jingling at the door pulled you from your spiralling thoughts. The clock on the wall read 1:47 a.m. You hadn't realized how late it had gotten. The door opened, and Drew stepped inside, his movements slow and careful, like he didn't want to disturb you. He probably thought you were asleep.

"Hey," you called out, your voice sharp in the quiet apartment. You couldn't hide the edge of frustration.

He paused, caught off guard, then gave a tired smile. "Hey, babe. Didn't think you'd still be up."

"Well, I am," you said, standing from the couch. "Thought you said you'd be home hours ago."

"The afterparty ran late," he explained, shrugging off his jacket. "I texted you."

"That's not the point, Drew," you snapped, your tone harsher than you intended. “This isn’t just about tonight. Do you even realize how little I see you anymore?”

His brows furrowed, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s my job, you know how crazy things get during press tour. This isn’t new.”

“That doesn’t make it easier,” you shot back. “You’re always out there, Drew. With her, with them – whoever. And I’m just .... here. Alone. Waiting for whatever scraps of time you have left.”

Drew exhaled sharply, clearly tired, and not in the mood for an argument. “This again?” he muttered, his tone clipped. “I can’t keep apologizing for doing my job.”

You flinched at his words. “I’m not asking you to apologize for working. I’m asking you to make me feel like I matter.”

“You do matter,” he said, raising his voice slightly. “But you’re acting like I can just drop everything. This is how it is y/n. This is how it’s always been.”

“No, it hasn’t,” you countered. “It’s different now. You’re different. You barely talk to me anymore. Half the time, I don’t even know what’s going on in your life. But everyone else does. The fans, the press – they all get pieces of you that I don’t.”

“That’s not true,” Drew said, shaking his head. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t see how lonely this is for me. You’re so caught up in your world that you don’t even notice.”

Drew’s frustration boiled over. “What do you want me to do, y/n? Quit? Stop taking jobs? Would that make you happy?”

His words felt like a slap, and the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over. “I want you to fight for this – for us. But instead, you’re treating me like a burden.”

Drew froze, his anger dissipating as he saw the pain in your expression. “Y/N,” he started, his tone softer, “You’re not a burden. I love you. You know that.”

“Do I?” you whispered. “Because it doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Drew looked at you, his face a mix of regret and helplessness. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t say anything,” you said, retreating to the bedroom before your emotions could completely overwhelm you.

You shut the door behind you, leaning against it as sobs wracked your body. You hated this – hated feeling like you were losing him. But you didn’t know how to bridge the growing distance between you.

Drew stood in the living room, staring at the closed door. He felt like the worst person in the world. He wanted to fix it; to make you understand how much you meant to him. But he was so tired – tired of the constant pull between his career and personal life, tired of feeling like he was failing at both.

He sat on the couch, his head in his hands. The apartment felt unbearably quiet without you. The fight replayed in his mind, your words cutting deeper with each pass. I want you to fight for this – for us.

He realized then how distant he’d been, how much he’d taken your support for granted. You’d been his anchor through everything, and he’d been too caught up in his own world to see how much you were struggling.

When you woke up, the sun was streaming through the curtains, but the weight in your chest hadn’t lifted. You found Drew in the kitchen, already dressed and nursing a cup of coffee. His face lit up when he saw you, but it quickly fell when he noticed your guarded expression.

“Morning,” he said softly, hesitant.

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

“I, uh, I thought about what you said last night,” he began, setting his coffee down. “And you’re right. I haven’t been fair to you.”

You looked at him, surprised. “Drew – “

“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been so focused on my career that I forgot what matters most – you. Us. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not part of my life, because you are. You’re everything to me, Y/N. And I know I haven’t shown that enough.”

Tears filled your eyes, and this time, you didn’t fight them. “I just... I miss you, Drew. I miss us.”

He crossed the room in a few strides, pulling you into his arms. “I miss us, too,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’m going to do better. I promise.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time, it felt like you were on the same page.

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ot3 · 1 year ago

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The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere

What is it, and why you should read it.

(Art by purple)

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere is a currently updating webserial by author Lurina. It's one of my favorite things I've read in a long while and I'd like to convince you all to give it a chance.

My elevator pitch is this: A time-loop murder mystery directly inspired by Umineko, with a lot of similar vibes to the Locked Tomb Trilogy - partially due to it's meditations on grief and mortality and partially due to it's far-future magical sci-fi world where we follow a fucked up lesbian necromancer on a task she is determined to see through to the end. A deeply complex, unique, and believable world that plays hosts to one of the best interpersonal dynamics I've read.

In a future so far-flung that it is past the heat death of the universe, humanity has constructed a new society that is post-scarcity but not post-stratification. Utsushikome of Fusai is one amongst a class of prodigious young medical arcanists (essentially grad students) who are invited to visit a recently legitimized conclave of top-of-the-line researchers studying immortality. Accompanying Su is her best friend Ran, a fellow arcanist. Over the course of the novel we begin to slowly unravel exactly what ulterior motives have brought them to this conclave and how events in their childhoods and years of working toward their shared goal has warped their relationship into what we now see. This relationship is the crown jewel of Flower's narrative, and getting to peel back the layers of it as you read is a delight.

Like Umineko, Flower is a murder mystery that prevents itself with in-universe Rules that dictate the murders' parameters, meaning there's a lot to chew on for anyone who likes solving mysteries. For those that don't, like myself, Flower offers instead a richly developed world and plenty of open questions about the sociopolitical and metaphysical implications of its own worldbuilding.

Below the cut, I'll go into more detail about the series (without spoilers!) for those of you whose interest has been piqued.

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere is currently ongoing, updating every few weeks. It's several hundred thousand words, so if you're looking for something substantial to keep you entertained, you've got it. As you might expect from the length, the pacing is decently slow. I don't see this as a bad thing at all, because within this pacing Lurina dripfeeds the readers enough new and interesting information at a regular rate that it never feels like your time is being wasted. But if you can't handle slow burns, I wouldn't recommend this one for you.

If you enjoyed the Zero Escape series and liked that they stopped solving murder puzzles to infodump about fringe science, I think you'll get a lot out of Flower. Characters are frequently interrupting their life-or-death scenarios to have lofty, philosophical and political discussions. It's a ton of fun if you like reading characters argue.

'People have to sleep.' 'People have to work.' 'People have to die.' But those were just vague rules, phrasing I'd used because it had been easier in the context of that conversation. What really mattered, on the day-to-day level, was the idea that it was all for something. If someone invented a elixir that made people not to need to sleep, it would, in retrospect, recontextualize all nights everyone ever wasted sleeping as wastes of time. Not something that occurred for some inherent purpose, but whims of circumstance, a tragedy of when you happened to be born. If you accepted that all unfair things in the world could be removed, if only someone knew how - fatigue, labor, death - then to exist in the world we had now, with all its grotesque imperfections, was to know that you had been violated by fate.

Along those lines it's just got a sense of humor I really enjoy. Pretty dry and cavalier. It manages to keep the mood light without feeling like it's undermining it's own stakes. I'm particularly fond of Su's penchant for telling incredibly depressing suicide jokes that just Do Not Land.

The peer pressure cut into me like a hot knife. I hesitated a little, biting my lip. "Well, uh, okay. I'll just tell a quick one." I swallowed, my mind quickly scrambling. "Okay, so, there's a woman who runs a dispensary for second hand goods. She sees a man come in who's a regular customer. He's kind of a mess-- Has a big beard, a bad complexion. He buys a razor, and tells her he needs it to clean himself up, because he has a date." I could see that I now had Ophelia's attention and that Kam was looking pleased with herself, but Ran was watching me, too. I could see the look in her eyes. It screamed at me, with such vividity that it could be sold at an art gallery: You better not be telling a suicide joke right now, or we're going to have a talk. But it was too late. The wheels were already in motion.

As I mentioned up top, the relationship between Ran and Su is just one of my favorite interpersonal dynamics ever. Period. The author is playing some insanely complicated 5th dimensional yuri chess and I am absolutely here for it as someone who likes characters who are deeply devoted to each other in a way that is deeply deeply fraught. I cant emphasize enough how obsessed I am with what they have going on.

Additionally, as stated, the worldbuilding in Flower is top tier. The author clearly understands how every part of her world functions, which makes the moral quandaries and politics presented all the more impactful because they're very believable. It's hard to talk about Flower's world without spoiling too much of the specifics that get slowly revealed, but it doesn't fall back on any typical sci-fi standard fare and feels like a breath of fresh air amongst recycled and repetitive worldbuilding tropes.

A lot of really fun side characters. Strong voices for all of the supporting cast (♥♥Kamrusepa♥♥) and even though not every character gets their own arc, they all clearly have plenty of interiority. Once again, another thing that makes Flower feel very believable despite it's absurdities.

Autism

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary with anyone?" She eyed him. "Anyone who seemed tense?" "Saoite, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but half of our class is so autistic that they constantly seem tense. You might as well ask me to find a specific turd in a sewer." "Just answer the question, please," she replied flatly.

Guys it's really good just trust me I don't want to spoil you for the more intricate plot beats but they're doing some crazy shit here. It's never a bad time to support an independent author's project. If you're sick of corporate mass-media and stuff needing to be marketable, getting into independent works owned and supported by individual creators is a great way to push back against that. I highly recommend it.

#media recs #the flower that bloomed nowhere

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creamflix · 1 month ago

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PERSEPHONE — ryomen sukuna x female reader [chapter 2]

summary: ryomen sukuna, ruthless tycoon of the alcohol industry, is used to crushing rivals. but when his former meek secretary walks into his office as his newest competitor, he’s blindsided. you’ve transformed into a powerful force, ready to go head-to-head in a high-stakes battle for dominance. as tension rises between you — both in business and something far more dangerous — sukuna realizes this fight might cost him more than just his empire.

content warnings & tags: enemies to lovers, modern au, business tycoon sukuna, angst, slow-burn, mentions of other jujutsu kaisen characters (suguru geto, choso kamo, uraume, yuuji itadori), mentions of sickness [puking due to alcohol consumption + past trauma] - this takes place in the same universe as my upcoming salaryman!choso fanfic

word count: 9.9k words

notes: thank you all so much for the positive response for our darling business tycoon sukuna, i'm beyond grateful. as i said, this will be a very slow-burn fic. i realistically have not planned out how many chapters i'm gonna write [ridiculous, i know] but i will make a masterlist soon! keep your eye out for that. and please, enjoy.

masterlist

this was a new low, even for sukuna. it felt like the earth had swallowed him whole, leaving nothing but his pride to choke on.

how the hell did i end up here? he thought bitterly, staring at yuuji, his fresh-out-of-high-school little brother, who was now sitting in his plush office chair, twirling a pen like it was the most exciting thing in the world. having yuuji be my intern as a marketing strategist... the words tasted like bile in his mouth. it wasn’t that his business was struggling — far from it — but the “experts” had insisted that “gen-z knows gen-z the best” and that ryomen’s brand needed a fresh perspective to appeal to younger audiences. a whole load of crap, but sukuna had grudgingly agreed.

and of all people, yuuji was the one sitting across from him, smiling like a kid who just found out he could have dessert before dinner.

“you get my range rover for the time you’re here, and an extra week to stay at the miami penthouse. deal?” sukuna offered with a grumble, the words almost painful to say.

yuuji, without missing a beat, grinned. “you strike a hard bargain, but i agree.”

“range rover with a chauffeur!” sukuna barked. “you are not taking that damn thing out by yourself —”

“can’t hear you!” yuuji sang out as he already started texting his friends, probably to brag about his temporary ride.

is this my life now? sukuna thought, eyes narrowing at his brother. the contrast between them was maddening. how did they look so alike yet end up so different? sukuna, a figure of intimidating presence and silent power, versus yuuji, the golden retriever of the family, bouncing off walls with enthusiasm that never seemed to dwindle. it was exhausting.

yet... sukuna sighed inwardly. it felt right. as weird as it was to turn to his younger brother for advice on how to steer his multi-million dollar company toward the hearts of gen-z, there was an unspoken reason behind this move. sukuna wouldn’t admit it out loud — not to anyone — but this was a veiled excuse to spend more time with yuuji. i want to see him grow up before it’s too late... before i miss out on everything.

the conversation replayed in sukuna’s mind, the phone call that had set this whole thing into motion. he remembered dialing choso’s number that monday night, pacing in his study like he had something far more important to discuss than the simple request he was about to make.

“what’s up?” choso’s familiar, calm voice answered, and sukuna could practically hear the eyebrow raise on the other side of the line. no doubt he knows something’s up...

“is the brat free?” sukuna asked, cutting straight to the point, though his tone held a gruffness that masked the underlying hesitation.

“you mean yuuji?” choso sounded amused. “yeah, he’s around. why? you finally listening to my advice?”

sukuna clenched his jaw. damn choso and his know-it-all attitude. “just tell me if he’s coming or not,” sukuna snapped. “i’ll have him picked up.”

there was a pause, and then choso chuckled, a low sound that grated sukuna’s nerves. “you’re really doing it, huh? alright. he’ll be there.”

sukuna grunted a reply and ended the call before choso could get in another word. the weight of that decision settled on him as soon as the line went dead. what am i doing? he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. he had run away from all that domestic crap years ago, leaving choso with the burden of raising yuuji while sukuna carved out his empire. now he was dragging his baby brother into the corporate world, hoping for... what? a way to reconnect? maybe. maybe even to prove to himself that he hadn’t completely abandoned his family.

yuuji, on the other hand, was overjoyed. from the moment he stepped foot into the sleek, glass-paneled office building, he was bouncing off every wall — metaphorically, at least. sukuna’s employees, most of whom had only ever seen their boss in stoic, business mode, were stunned by the whirlwind that was yuuji itadori. he was talking to them like they were old friends, cracking jokes, and asking questions about their jobs, all while everyone tried to reconcile the fact that this was sukuna’s little brother.

it’s insane how they look so alike, one of the marketing assistants whispered to another, but they’re complete opposites.

sukuna, watching from his corner office, didn’t know whether to be impressed or irritated. he’s not here to make friends. he’s here to work. but deep down, he couldn’t deny a strange sense of satisfaction seeing yuuji here, in his world, even if it was just for a short while.

as the days passed, sukuna found himself in unfamiliar territory. instead of barking orders, he found himself... mentoring. guiding yuuji through the nuances of marketing, albeit begrudgingly. at first, it was awkward, like two pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit. but yuuji, with his boundless energy and openness, had a way of easing into things, even cracking sukuna’s icy exterior, bit by bit.

maybe this isn’t so bad, sukuna thought one evening as yuuji chattered on about trends and social media engagement, something sukuna would normally roll his eyes at. but now, he listened, actually listened.

and if this is what it takes to spend time with him... well, sukuna could make the sacrifice.

“oi nii-chan, is it true you and miss persephone lady used to work togeth–”

“enough with that crap! i got you here to work, not read through some trashy tabloid!” sukuna snapped, slamming his laptop shut as he glared at his younger brother.

it had been a few days since yuuji started officially interning for ryomen, and to sukuna’s surprise, the kid wasn’t half bad. he had this knack for understanding what gen z wanted — though sukuna would never admit that aloud — and somehow, yuuji managed to get him on tiktok. tiktok, of all things.

“trust me, bro, just hold the bottle up, smile a little… no, not like you’re about to kill someone — there, that’s it! just smile like a regular human.” yuuji had been chirping as he filmed his brother, who begrudgingly lifted a bottle of his own product in front of the camera.

sukuna had scoffed at the ridiculousness of it, but the reel blew up overnight, racking up millions of views. comments poured in, and to sukuna’s dismay, most of them weren’t even about the product.

"who’s the hot dilf in the suit?!"

"omg i’d buy anything daddy’s selling 😩💦"

"daddy energy is off the charts!! does he need a wife?"

"i’m literally ordering a case just ‘cause he held it, help."

meanwhile, you and suguru were practically losing your minds over the viral tiktok. not that you had anything to really worry about — persephone was the "hot girl drink" among gen z, and tiktok was basically your playground. but as a businesswoman, it irked you to see a slight dip in your numbers. for the first time in a while, your usually devoted fanbase — the ones who’d raid your comments with praise and love — had migrated to thirst over at ryomen's instead.

“those assholes knew exactly what they were doing when they whored out their boss like that,” suguru muttered, scrolling through the comments of the video, eyes narrowing at every thirst post he passed.

“suguru! language!” you scolded, shooting him a glare, though you couldn’t deny the accuracy of his observation.

“what? it’s true! look at him,” he huffed, gesturing toward the screen.

you paused, hesitantly glancing at the video again. and, well… he wasn’t wrong. sukuna had the whole tall, brooding, dark look going for him. it was no wonder half the internet was drooling over him.

“if i had to hazard a guess, they probably had a younger kid think of this,” suguru added, now analyzing the marketing tactic. “they know their stuff. gen z eats this up.”

you let out a frustrated sigh. “whatever, it doesn’t matter. we need to bounce back.”

suguru grinned mischievously. “oh, i’ve got a few ideas. starting with—”

“suguru,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes at him, “for the last time, i am not letting you get shirtless on camera.”

he laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “hey, just offering my services! we’re losing to thirst traps here.”

you rolled your eyes, already brainstorming new strategies. “we don’t need thirst traps to win. we’re better than that.”

“yeah, yeah,” suguru smirked. “but admit it, they played their hand well with this one.”

despite his annoyance at the flood of thirsty comments, the numbers didn’t lie. the reel translated into a surprising sales boost for ryomen’s wine. sukuna was on a high after that win, but deep down, he knew it was all thanks to yuuji's ridiculous idea. actually saying "thank you"? yeah, right. that wasn’t gonna happen. instead, he decided to take yuuji to one of the socialite parties he was invited to as a subtle reward, even though he warned him, “you screw around, and i’ll throw your ass out in front of everyone.”

yuuji had grinned ear to ear. “don’t worry nii-chan, i’ll behave!”

sukuna rolled his eyes, but there was a part of him that was secretly proud. the brat was doing well, and in some twisted way, this was also an excuse to spend more time with him.

the whole tiktok situation still irked sukuna, though. since when was his image the selling point? the product was solid on its own, but apparently, gen z loved "hot dilfs" now. ridiculous. but whatever works, he thought with a scoff.

as they pulled up to the socialite event, yuuji practically bounced out of the car, eyes wide at the grandeur of the venue. sukuna shot him a sidelong glance, grumbling under his breath, “remember what i said, don’t screw this up.”

yuuji gave a mock salute, “aye, aye, captain!”

sukuna couldn’t help but smirk, but quickly covered it up with a scowl as they walked in.

you and suguru arrived early at the party, mingling with some of the top players from all industries. dressed in a scarlet gown, you felt like you blended right in with the glamour, while suguru, matching in a dark-red suit, stayed close enough so that you two could exchange subtle glances as you navigated through different groups of people.

meanwhile, sukuna was keeping an eye on yuuji, who was fidgeting next to him. “oi, nii-chan, isn’t that —” yuuji began, his eyes locking onto your figure across the room.

“brat, stop staring,” sukuna growled under his breath, half-annoyed but mostly frustrated. it was almost guaranteed he’d run into you and that bastard suguru at events like this — but now? here? with yuuji around? his blood pressure spiked instantly.

where the hell is yuuji?

his eyes darted around until he saw him — of course — bouncing over toward you as you stood at the bar, ordering a drink. sukuna’s jaw clenched as he watched. martini. how fucking cliché, he scoffed internally. though, admittedly, it did match your dress. but that wasn’t the problem here.

“hi miss!” yuuji’s voice cut through the crowd as he stood in front of you, grinning like an excited puppy.

you blinked in surprise, turning to look at him. “hey, little guy, you lost or something?”

“why does everyone think i’m little?!” yuuji whined, puffing his chest out a little. “i’m literally eighteen…”

“eighteen is still pretty little,” you teased with a smirk. “i can bet you’re the youngest one here.”

yuuji pouted. “ugh, fine… anyways, my name’s yuuji! yuuji itadori, i’m sukun—”

“brat!” sukuna’s growl cut him off as he stormed over, eyes flashing with annoyance.

you raised an eyebrow, recognition flashing in your eyes as soon as you heard that name. "so... yuuji itadori, huh?" you mused with a slight grin, your gaze shifting from yuuji to sukuna, who now stood towering beside him.

sukuna glared at yuuji. “what’d i tell you about running off, huh?”

yuuji sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, looking between you and his brother. “uhh, my bad, bro…”

sukuna was caught between two options: curtly apologize to you for yuuji’s sudden interruption or yank the brat by the collar and lecture him about keeping his head in the game. but as you sipped that ridiculous martini of yours, eyeing him and yuuji like they were some kind of curiosity, he found himself staying put.

"this one’s yours?" you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips. sukuna grunted in response, gripping yuuji's collar just a bit tighter. yuuji winced, squirming under the hold. "ow ow ow — nii-chan!"

you tilted your head, a curious glint in your eyes as you took in the scene. "if i dare guess," you began, your gaze landing squarely on sukuna with a knowing smile, "is the little one part of your marketing team?"

before sukuna could respond, yuuji eagerly jumped in, clearly excited to explain. “yes! i did that! the tiktok i mean, did you like it?”

your laugh was warm and genuine, a sound that only seemed to irritate sukuna more. "a lot of people did," you replied, still holding his gaze as you gave yuuji a nod. "but persephone’s numbers didn’t. you did well, yuuji."

yuuji lit up like a damn firework, beaming as if you’d handed him a golden trophy. sukuna scoffed, his irritation mounting. putting down your own company just to kiss the competition’s ass? what kinda idiot does that? he thought, glaring at you like you were the source of his current migraine. meanwhile, yuuji’s grin seemed to be growing bigger by the second — wasn’t there a limit to how much one person could beam? he could practically light up a whole city with the way he was grinning at you.

disgusting.

“you don’t have to suck up to her,” sukuna grumbled, finally releasing yuuji’s collar and crossing his arms. “her numbers are probably tanking ‘cause of us, and she knows it.”

you raised an eyebrow, sipping your martini like the whole thing was a joke. “maybe so, but your brother’s the reason for that, right?” you said calmly, giving yuuji a wink. “it’s only fair to acknowledge talent where it’s due.”

yuuji blinked, clearly basking in the compliment. "thanks, miss! nii-chan doesn’t say it, but i know he's proud of me."

sukuna shot his brother a look. “don’t push your luck, brat.”

you chuckled at the exchange, swirling the glass in your hand. “oh, i don’t know. seems like he’s doing a good job. maybe you should keep him around a little longer.”

“yeah, nii-chan, maybe i should get a permanent job here!” yuuji chimed in, totally missing the sarcastic undertones flying between the two of you.

sukuna clenched his jaw. great. just what i needed — both of them ganging up on me.

before the banter could progress any further, suguru’s voice cut through the little bubble like a sharp blade. "well, am i interrupting something?" he asked, his tone deceptively smooth, though his eyes were locked on sukuna and yuuji with much less warmth. he smiled at you, a softer, genuine expression, but then he let his gaze linger back on the two brothers. “look what the cat dragged in. as if one wasn’t enough, we now have two.”

sukuna was already seeing red, his fist clenching by his side. you want to throw shots at me? fine. but take a swing at my little brother, and i’ll rip you apart. just as he was about to snap back, ready to tear into suguru, yuuji’s voice cut through the tension in the air.

“dude... what is that haircare routine?” yuuji asked, his eyes wide with genuine curiosity.

the sheer randomness of the question left all three adults in momentary silence. you barely managed to hold back a laugh, your martini glass pressed to your lips as you tried to stifle the sound. suguru, on the other hand, just blinked, dumbfounded, as if he wasn’t sure if yuuji was joking or serious.

“are you… are you serious?” suguru finally asked, his brows furrowing in disbelief.

yuuji nodded earnestly, clearly unaware of the tension that had been suffocating the air moments before. “yeah, dude. it’s, like, so shiny! how do you do it?”

the awkward silence that followed was broken by your quiet scoff of amusement, followed by a smile you tried to hide behind your glass. even suguru, momentarily disarmed, glanced sideways at you, but it was clear that yuuji’s completely unintentional intervention had somehow postponed the inevitable face-off.

for now.

sukuna, though still seething, was momentarily taken aback by his brother’s pure, childlike curiosity, his anger simmering into frustration instead. “are you fuckin’ serious” he muttered under his breath, not entirely sure if he should laugh or smack yuuji upside the head.

suguru shook his head in disbelief, running a hand through his admittedly perfect hair, before giving sukuna a pointed look. “well, i suppose the brat has taste. not everyone can pull this off,” he said, his smugness barely hidden as he flicked his gaze between sukuna and you.

you chuckled, finally lowering your glass. "i don’t know, suguru. maybe he’s got a point." you smiled at yuuji, enjoying the brief moment of levity that, for once, didn’t involve the constant tension between the two men.

“excuse us,” sukuna grunted bluntly, shoving past you and suguru as he dragged yuuji along with him.

“oi, ow ow, ouch — nii-chan, i can walk!” yuuji whined, trying to free himself from sukuna’s iron grip.

“can’t trust you to be ‘walking’ around anywhere anymore, brat,” sukuna shot back, his tone harsh but not without a hint of affection.

“but ’m eighteen! i’m practically a grown-up!” yuuji protested, pouting as he tried to keep up.

“grown-up? please. you’re still a kid in my eyes,” sukuna scoffed, shaking his head. “and you think you can just stroll up to a stranger at a party? she could be a gold digger or something.”

“she’s pretty, you know,” yuuji blurted out, his eyes wide with admiration as he glanced back at you.

“like hell she is! god, i swear the bar gets lower and lower with each generation,” sukuna replied, his voice dripping with disdain, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity about you.

“what’s wrong with being pretty? you’re just jealous!” yuuji exclaimed, finally breaking free and spinning to face sukuna. “you’re the one who’s grumpy all the time!”

“grumpy? i’m just realistic. just because you think some girl is pretty doesn’t mean she’s not trouble,” sukuna retorted, crossing his arms as he glared at his brother.

“but she’s not trouble! she’s cool! she even said i did a good job on that tiktok!” yuuji defended, excitement sparkling in his eyes.

“yeah, well, that’s probably just her being nice to you,” sukuna replied, rolling his eyes. “i bet she’s just buttering you up.”

“she’s not!” yuuji insisted, his voice rising. “i really think she likes me—”

“likes you? please, she’s probably just being polite,” sukuna interrupted, clearly annoyed. “you’re not exactly a catch, you know.”

“that’s mean!” yuuji shot back, his bottom lip jutting out. “i’m a great catch! i’ve got mad skills!”

“mad skills? like what, jumping around and acting like a fool? you’re a kid, yuuji. stay in your lane,” sukuna scoffed, his tone lightening just a bit.

meanwhile, back at the bar, suguru’s usually composed face is clouded with concern. “you’re okay, right? he didn’t say anything? hurt you? touch y—”

“sugu, i’m fine! really,” you reply, an exasperated smile tugging at your lips. he lets out a grumble, clearly still irritated, as he plops down next to you on the perched bar stool. his hand reaches out for yours in a quiet, almost shy gesture of reassurance.

“sukuna may be an ass, but he won’t compromise on yuuji’s safety by starting a scene,” you add, trying to ease his worry.

“you know that kid?” suguru asks, eyebrows raised in mild surprise.

“more or less. i used to make monthly bank transfers to a ‘yuuji itadori,’ so i’m guessing it’s him,” you explain with a shrug.

“huh, guess that pink-haired fiend actually has a heart somewhere in there.” suguru scoffs, shaking his head.

“suguru!” you nudge him with your elbow, stifling a laugh.

“no, but seriously,” he softens, his gaze searching your face. “you good, vino? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“yeah, i’m fine. i was... kinda expecting him here, you know. and besides, i’’m over it,” you say, a hint of finality in your tone. you take a breath, glancing around the room before turning back to him with a playful roll of your eyes. “and can you please stop calling me vino?”

“what! it sounds classy,” suguru grins, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“classy? it sounds like i’m a bottle on the top shelf at a wine shop,” you reply, feigning annoyance but unable to keep the smile from spreading across your face.

“hey, if the shoe fits…” he teases, his grip on your hand tightening briefly, a small reminder that he’s always got your back — even when sukuna’s around.

“no, but seriously,” suguru leans in, his tone soft yet firm. “you don’t need to worry about sukuna. you’re in your own element right now. don’t let pinkie pie over there ruin it for you.”

you let out a laugh, his words pulling you out of your thoughts, and suguru's smile deepens as he watches the corners of your lips lift. god, he loved seeing you smile like that. it’s moments like these that make him grateful you came out stronger. though he hated the rough patches you’d been through, there was nothing he admired more than your resilience. he realized just how much he loved seeing you happy, and he hated the thought of you ever hurting, especially because of someone like sukuna. that bastard had taken enough from you, but here you were, standing taller than ever, glowing even. and suguru loved that about you — the way you’d come out of the storm stronger. even when things got tough, you always found a way to push through.

but it didn’t stop him from worrying. it never would.

“you know i got you, right?” he asked quietly, almost as if he needed to remind you — but also himself. his grip tightened just a bit, an anchor in the noisy room.

when you smiled and squeezed his hand back, saying, "of course i do, sugu," it was like the weight on his chest lightened just a little.

screw sukuna, he thought. no matter what came next, as long as you had him, you wouldn’t be facing anything alone. and that was all that mattered.

he nods, but there’s a twinge of frustration simmering beneath the surface. he wants to protect you from all the bullshit that comes with this industry, especially from someone like sukuna. he knows you’re tough and capable, but that doesn’t stop him from wishing he could shield you from the chaos.

“just… keep doing what you’re doing. you’re incredible, and you deserve every bit of success coming your way.” his gaze holds yours, sincere and unwavering. he knows you’ve faced challenges, and he’s proud to stand by you, no matter what.

“thanks, suguru. it means a lot.” your voice is soft, and for a moment, the noise of the party fades into the background, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of understanding.

“cursed vintages: sip the darkness, savor the power? you can’t be serious.”

you stared in disbelief at the large billboard advertising sukuna’s latest venture. of course, it was dramatic, leaning into the over-the-top theatrics that fit his brand. cursed vintages was a direct competitor to your upcoming release, spirited whispers: a hauntingly light sip for your eerie nights! the timing was too convenient, almost as if sukuna had planned it just to outshine you. you couldn’t help but scoff at the absurd tagline — sip the darkness, savor the power — it was so him.

as frustrating as it was, you knew sukuna’s bold play was part of a larger strategy. he'd always aimed to dominate, but he wouldn't dare cross the line by doing something illegal, like price-fixing. that wasn’t his style. sukuna might be ruthless, but he wasn't careless, and losing face over something so reckless wasn't in the cards for him.

you cast an irritated glance at the massive advertisement towering over your office’s commercial district. sukuna and a model posed elegantly on either side of his new wine, their faces shadowed by the bold branding. sukuna’s smirk was infuriating, like he knew exactly how much it would annoy you. it was clear he was leveraging his good looks to boost sales and push his brand, playing on his appeal in the most obvious way.

but you weren’t one to back down. as you studied the billboard, an idea sparked in your mind — something bold, something that could turn the tables.

“sugu! i’ve got an idea,” you burst into suguru’s office, a mischievous grin on your face. “but…you need to get shirtless for this.”

suguru’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “what now?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, clearly skeptical of whatever plan you had.

“you heard me,” you replied, undeterred. “we’re gonna hit sukuna where it hurts — if he’s going to flaunt his looks to sell wine, then we’ll do the same.”

suguru gave you a half-laugh, half-sigh. “so…your genius marketing plan involves me stripping down?”

you nodded, a grin playing on your lips. “trust me, it’ll work. we need something bold, something viral. a frat party-style ad, with you right in the middle of it. everyone will be talking about it.”

he shook his head, chuckling. “fine, but only because you asked.”

within days, your ad was everywhere. people couldn’t get enough of it — the combination of modern-day recession pop music and the carefree, chaotic energy of a frat party resonated across generations. the low-budget aesthetic only made it more relatable, especially with suguru’s shirtless appearance front and center, surrounded by a crowd of partygoers. spirited whispers became the go-to drink for college parties, nostalgic millennials, and even curious onlookers who wanted a piece of the action.

sales skyrocketed. within a week and a half, your six-month stock was completely sold out. spirited whispers had blown up in ways you hadn’t anticipated, becoming a cultural phenomenon. and the best part? sukuna was furious.

back at sukuna’s office, yuuji was taking the fallout personally. slouched in one of the chairs, he sighed. “it’s my fault, right? we didn’t work hard enough, and now persephone’s–”

“it’s not your fault, brat,” sukuna cut him off sharply, his frustration evident but not directed at his younger brother. seeing yuuji’s dejected expression made sukuna bristle. “you’re just an intern. whatever you did, you did it well, so stop moping around like this.”

yuuji looked up, surprised by the rare hint of praise. “i’ll work harder, nii-chan! i’ll make you proud, i promise.”

sukuna’s heart clenched slightly at yuuji’s words. despite his tough exterior, moments like these reminded him why he was so driven to succeed. everything he did, all the ruthless business tactics, it was for his family, especially yuuji.

before sukuna could respond, uraume, his most trusted employee, stormed into the office, looking uncharacteristically rattled. “sir, you need to see this,” they said urgently, handing sukuna a tablet. the headline blared in bold, sensationalized text:

"former secretary to powerful business mogul becomes rival: y/n’s rise to stardom amidst scandal"

sukuna’s jaw clenched as he read the article. of course, they were dredging up old rumors, trying to link your past employment under him to some scandalous narrative. the tabloids had clearly caught wind of your recent success, and now they were out for blood, twisting your story into something salacious.

this wasn’t just business anymore. sukuna’s anger simmered beneath the surface, but his mind was already moving. it was time to put an end to this.

“schedule a meeting,” sukuna said coldly.

“with who?” uraume asked, though they already had a good idea.

“with y/n,” sukuna answered, his eyes narrowing. “it’s time we settled this.”

“you got mail, vino,” suguru teased as he stepped into your office, holding up his tablet with a faint grin. “pinkie pie wants to set up a meeting tomorrow.”

you raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-skeptical. “all it took was you getting shirtless for him to come visit us, suguru,” you teased, trying to keep the mood light despite the hint of tension beneath your words.

but suguru didn’t laugh. instead, his expression shifted slightly, his tone more serious. “not us, y/n. just you. he… asked for you, specifically.”

the way he said it made your stomach drop. “what do you mean, sugu?”

suguru sighed, his easy demeanor replaced by something more somber. “y/n, this meeting… it’s not just about the wine. someone published a full-length tabloid piece. on you and sukuna.”

your blood ran cold. all the teasing left your body, replaced by a sinking feeling of dread. “sugu, tell me you’re lying,” you said, your voice shaky, desperately hoping this was just another one of his jokes.

he looked at you with regret in his eyes, shaking his head. “i’m not, y/n. i’m sorry. we’re already working to get it removed from our end, but it’s all over the place.”

his words felt distant, muffled, as your thoughts spiraled. the whole reason you’d thrown yourself into this business, the late nights, the strategy, the risks — it was all to make a name for yourself. to not be associated with sukuna, to stand on your own feet and build something without his shadow looming over you. but now it felt like all that effort had been undone, like your entire identity was being dragged back into his orbit.

why did it feel like no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape him? were you that devoid of luck, of any hope for a clean slate, let alone a happy ending?

your hands gripped the edge of your desk as you fought to steady your breath, your mind racing. suguru stepped closer, concern softening his voice. “y/n, we’ll figure this out. this isn’t the end.”

but all you could think about was tomorrow. the meeting. facing sukuna again.

sukuna strode into your office building, lips curling into a sneer as he scanned the crowd of employees milling around. "what the fuck is this place?," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing at the laid-back environment.

some people were dressed so casually he had to wonder if they were on their way to a beach party instead of working. baggy t-shirts, sneakers, and even someone in what looked like pajama pants — it was a far cry from the cutthroat atmosphere of his own office. how the hell did you run a successful business with this ragtag bunch?

but, sukuna wasn’t an idiot. persephone’s numbers were some of the best in the industry. these kids — these kids were the ones who’d been fucking with his sales for weeks now. and he couldn’t deny it, no matter how much he hated it. never trust a book by its cover, right? even if this office looked like a frat house, it clearly delivered results.

still, the sight of it grated on him. made his skin crawl. "what a goddamn joke," he thought, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets as he made his way to your office.

the moment he pushed open the door, though, expecting to see you, he stopped dead in his tracks. it wasn’t your figure behind the desk — it was suguru, leaning casually back in your chair like he owned the place.

“what the fuck is this, now?” sukuna's voice was harsh, his frustration immediately bubbling over. he hadn’t come here to deal with your right-hand man.

suguru, unfazed by sukuna’s usual brashness, just smiled, sitting up slightly. “sorry, y/n’s not here right now. emergency shipping issue. had to send her out across the city. guess you’re stuck with me.”

sukuna’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “you really think i’m gonna believe that shit? sounds like a fuckin’ excuse to avoid me.”

suguru shrugged, clearly not bothered by sukuna’s attitude. “believe what you want, man. i’m just telling you how it is. besides,” he added with a smirk, “what’d you need y/n for anyway? i’m perfectly capable of handling a little business negotiation.”

the office was large, sleek, and modern — surprisingly professional compared to the chaos outside. it pissed sukuna off more that everything was in perfect order, like you’d been expecting him to show up. the leather chair, the spotless glass desk — it all looked ready to welcome him. except it wasn’t you sitting there, it was this fucker.

sukuna gritted his teeth, the itch to throw suguru out of the chair gnawing at him. he wasn’t used to being thrown off like this. this was supposed to be simple, just get in, handle things with you, and get the hell out. now he was stuck, dealing with suguru and his cool, unbothered demeanor.

“look, i don’t got time for this bullshit. where the hell is she?” sukuna growled.

suguru leaned forward slightly, still maintaining that infuriating smile. “she’s not avoiding you, sukuna. but you showing up like this… it’s kinda unnecessary, don’t you think? it’s not like y/n’s going anywhere. if there’s something you want to talk about, i’m right here. what’s the rush?”

sukuna snorted, anger barely restrained. “don’t fucking act like you know what this is about.”

suguru tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “actually, i do. i know about the tabloid. i know why you’re here. but that doesn’t mean y/n has to deal with your shit, sukuna.”

sukuna felt his blood boil. this asshole, stepping in like he knew everything. like he could stop him from getting what he wanted. "you're lucky you're still in that chair, you smug piece of shit."

suguru’s calm never wavered. “and you’re lucky i’m still talking to you. trust me, y/n doesn’t need your bullshit right now.”

sukuna glared daggers at him, the whole situation making him want to smash something. "fuck this," he thought, but deep down, he knew suguru had pulled a fast one on him. he could feel it, a tightness in his chest, like the whole reason he came here was slipping out of his grasp. you. he’d wanted to see you. confront you. and now… now he was just left fuming at a man who wouldn’t budge.

sukuna, jaw tight, took a deep breath. as much as he wanted to throw suguru through the fucking window, he knew they needed to get this over with. he wasn’t the type to drag out bullshit conversations, and if this was the only way to move things along, then so be it.

“fine,” sukuna growled, leaning back in the chair across from suguru. “let’s talk business then. i’m proposing a collaboration between ryomen and persephone.”

the words sounded alien coming from his mouth, like some kind of bitter aftertaste. sukuna wasn’t one to collaborate with anyone, let alone with someone who had been running circles around him lately. but he wasn’t dumb. christmas was coming, and after that, new year’s — the prime season for wine sales. speaking purely from a business perspective, it made sense. persephone had the youth market in their pocket, and sukuna had the high-end crowd. together, they could dominate both.

suguru raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “a collaboration? you’re serious?”

“do i look like i’m fucking joking?” sukuna snapped, running a hand through his hair, the irritation visible in his body language. “look, i don’t like this shit any more than you do. but it’s smart, and it’ll work. your low-alcohol crap and my high-end shit? we could wipe out the competition through the end of the year. christmas, new year’s — people are buying like crazy. we take advantage of it.”

suguru leaned back in your chair, crossing his arms as he watched sukuna. “what’s the catch?”

sukuna narrowed his eyes. “there’s no fucking catch. it’s a straightforward deal. we both profit. easy as that.”

but suguru wasn’t buying it. “yeah, sure. but what happens when you sideline us? when ryomen suddenly take the spotlight and persephone’s pushed out of the picture?” suguru’s voice was steady, but his words were sharp. he wasn’t falling for any tricks.

sukuna clenched his fists, his temper flaring again. “you think i’m a fucking cheat? that i’m gonna fuck you guys over just because i can?” he stood up, looming over suguru. “i might be a lot of things, but when it comes to business, i don’t fuck around. if i say we’re in this together, we’re fucking in it together.”

suguru didn’t flinch, even as sukuna loomed over him, radiating barely contained rage. “you’ll forgive me if i don’t take you at your word, sukuna.”

sukuna let out a bitter laugh, stepping back slightly, but still glaring down at suguru. “you’re paranoid, geto. but fine, i get it. i’m not asking you to trust me. i’m asking you to look at the numbers. this works. you know it does.”

suguru studied sukuna for a moment before responding, his tone calm. “even if i do entertain this idea, what’s stopping you from trying to bulldoze us in the future?”

sukuna’s patience snapped. “because i don’t need to! i got my own goddamn empire to run. you think i’ve got time to fuck around with your company? this is a one-time deal. you either take it or you don’t. and trust me, geto, if you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

there was a heavy silence between them, the weight of sukuna’s words hanging in the air. it was clear that, while he was brash and crude, sukuna wasn’t here to mess around.

as much as suguru wanted to tell sukuna to fuck off, he knew this wasn’t a decision he could make on his own, not without your input. he couldn’t afford to be reckless, no matter how tempting it was to tell sukuna exactly where to shove his so-called “collaboration.”

suguru gave a tight-lipped smile, standing up from behind your desk. “we’ll think about it and get back to you.”

sukuna’s eyes flashed with frustration, his jaw clenching as he stepped closer to suguru. “you better make it quick,” he growled, the warning clear in his voice.

suguru didn’t flinch, holding his ground. “we’ll be in touch,” he said, his tone firm but not aggressive, making it clear that the conversation was over.

with a scoff, sukuna turned on his heel and stormed out, the tension in the air still thick even after he was gone. suguru let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, sitting back down and rubbing his temples. as much as he hated dealing with sukuna, he knew this was something you’d need to decide.

“hey, vino, how was the shipping —”

“geto, why did you lie to me?”

your voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp and cold. suguru, lounging comfortably on the sofa like he owned the place, straightened up immediately, the usual warmth of your voice replaced by something far more biting. being called "geto" instead of "sugu" was all he needed to know that he was in trouble — deep trouble.

he glanced up at you, eyes widening slightly at your expression. you were pissed, more than he had anticipated. “wait, hold on — what are you talking about?”

you slammed your bag onto the nearest table, glaring at him like you were about to explode. “you lied to me about the emergency, suguru! what the hell? you sent me on some bogus errand just so i’d miss sukuna showing up at the office? are you out of your goddamn mind?”

suguru winced at the bluntness of your words. he knew you’d be mad, but this? this was worse than he’d thought. “look, i just didn’t want you dealing with that asshole today, alright? you’ve been stressed, and —"

“so you thought lying to me and sending me on a wild goose chase would help?!” you snapped, pacing angrily. “you made me look like an idiot, suguru! and for what? to protect me from sukuna? i can handle myself, you know.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i know you can, but —"

“no, you don’t know!” you cut him off, your frustration bubbling over. “you don’t get to decide how i handle my shit. i needed to be there for that meeting, and now you’ve just made it ten times worse!”

he opened his mouth to respond, but you weren’t having it. “you’re not my babysitter, suguru. stop treating me like some delicate fucking flower.”

as you stood there, fuming, suguru got up from the sofa and walked toward you with that irritatingly calm demeanor of his. “come on, sweetheart, calm down for a sec,” he called for you softly, even though you wanted to stay mad at him. his hand found its way to your arm, rubbing slow, calming circles as he stood close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

you hated how easily he could chip away at your anger like this. you let out a tired sigh, the fight draining out of you, leaning your head lightly against his shoulder. “suguru, this was still messed up,” you muttered, though the sharpness in your tone had softened.

he felt his heart race at the contact, but kept his expression cool. “i know, i know. i was just trying to look out for you, but i get it — you don’t need me to do that.” he paused, his voice dropping slightly, “about the meeting... sukuna proposed a deal. a collaboration for the holiday season.”

you pulled back just enough to look at him. “a deal? with sukuna?” the skepticism was clear in your voice.

“yeah. i don’t like it either, but it could be good for business,” he said, his thumb still tracing soothing patterns on your arm. “i figured we’d at least consider it.��

you sighed again, your frustration ebbing into something more like exhaustion. “alright. let’s take the deal. but next time, no more bullshit, okay?”

he gave a small smile, relief washing over him. “okay.”

suguru pulled out his phone and quickly texted your secretary to notify sukuna that they’d agree to the proposal. as he sent the message, he couldn’t help but glance at you, still leaning slightly against him. his heart was beating faster than it should’ve, but he ignored it, focusing instead on getting business done.

“don’t ask, the brat insisted he sit here.” sukuna scoffed, gesturing at yuuji, who was practically bouncing in his seat, excitement radiating off him. it was hard to blame him, though; after all, they were making history here — ryomen collaborating with persephone.

“so, pretty simple — we start a joint venture solely for the christmas and new year’s season, walk out with the profits, and pretend this never happened. deal?” sukuna stated, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence.

“wow, nii-chan, you make a multi-billion deal sound so simple,” yuuji chimed in, his wide eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. he received an annoyed glare from sukuna in response.

“he’s right,” you spoke up for the first time since entering the room, your voice steady. “we still need to discuss a lot more things in detail.”

sukuna scowled at you, torn between respect for your attention to detail and irritation that this wasn’t as straightforward as he’d hoped. “what more is there to discuss? we’re splitting profits, that’s it.”

you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “for starters, we need to decide how the marketing will work. are we promoting under both brands or focusing solely on one? and how do we plan to handle distribution?”

sukuna shrugged, leaning back as if your questions didn’t faze him. “we just let our teams figure that out. they’re good at what they do. just make sure to keep your eye on your side of things.”

“that’s not exactly a solid plan,” you replied, your tone firm. “if we don’t have a cohesive strategy, we risk losing customers on both sides.”

“so you want to babysit my team?” he shot back, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“no, i want to ensure that this partnership is beneficial for both of us,” you retorted, holding his gaze. “we need to figure out our target audience and how to appeal to them. plus, we should set clear expectations for each party involved.”

yuuji, sensing the rising tension, jumped in, trying to diffuse the situation. “what if we create a special holiday blend? something unique to this collaboration? that way, we can market it together and have fun with it!”

sukuna looked at yuuji, momentarily surprised by the suggestion. “not a terrible idea, brat. but what’s your point?”

“it’ll give us something to push on social media, too! and if we make it limited edition, people will rush to buy it. we can use both of your brands to create buzz,” yuuji explained, his enthusiasm infectious.

“i like that,” you said, nodding in agreement. “it adds value and creates urgency. plus, we can promote it as a holiday exclusive, which will draw in more customers.”

sukuna crossed his arms, still skeptical. “fine, let’s say we go with that. but what’s next? i’m not wasting time on endless meetings.”

“then let’s set a timeline,” you suggested, jotting down notes on your tablet. “we need deadlines for marketing materials, production schedules, and launch dates. if we want this to work, we need to be organized.”

“alright, let’s lay it out,” sukuna relented, though he still had that signature scowl on his face. “but you better not fuck this up for me, or you’ll be hearing from me.”

you smirked, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “trust me, sukuna. if anyone’s going to fuck this up, it won’t be me.”

the collaboration between ryomen and persephone was the talk of the town post-halloween. the launch of your joint christmas and new year holiday special didn’t just turn heads — it seemed to capture the attention of every major sector. market analysts were buzzing with reports about the wine industry’s trajectory, forecasting the impact your collaboration would have on both your companies’ market shares. singers and actors began endorsing your holiday blend, and even some of the biggest names in the industry wanted in. you and sukuna even managed to rope in mariah carey herself — a massive investment that nearly drained both of your wallets. but with profits flooding in almost immediately after, it felt more like a minor hiccup than a real setback.

tabloids, unsurprisingly, had a field day with it. their favorite narrative? that you were using your past connection with sukuna to get ahead in the market. "she’s leveraging her history with him,” they’d gossip. but just as quickly, the defense came: “they just hate to see a girlboss winning.” the tabloids were shut down by the people, who were more focused on how well the collaboration was doing rather than who was behind it.

honestly, working with sukuna wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it’d be. sure, there was the occasional scowl or blunt comment at board meetings, but sukuna seemed to have more of a professional demeanor when it came to business. you only saw him once or twice during presentations or negotiations, and whenever you did, suguru was always close by. he’d be leaning in with a quick comment, making sure you felt comfortable, making it easier to shrug off sukuna’s sharper remarks.

things were actually starting to look good for once. there was hope, a sense of optimism that maybe things could keep going this well. your company was thriving, the collaboration was a success, and your name was gaining even more recognition in the industry.

until that damn christmas party.

the festive atmosphere had been building up for weeks — holiday music, the smell of mulled wine and cinnamon, twinkling lights strung up across your office’s ceiling. persephone and ryomen had decided to throw a joint christmas bash for both companies to celebrate the success of your holiday line. everything seemed to be going smoothly.

that was, until things started to go a bit too smoothly.

everything was fine and dandy until you thought, why not have a sip of ryomen wine? after all, it had been so long since you'd last tried it, right? but the moment that familiar taste hit your tongue, you knew it was a mistake. was it the wine itself, or the flood of memories that came rushing back — of nights you'd rather forget, when alcohol was more of a crutch than a choice?

your stomach turned violently, the nausea creeping up your throat until you couldn't hold it in. before you knew it, you were dry heaving, the sound breaking through the music and laughter in the room. then, you lost it. you puked, right there in front of everyone — the guests, the business partners, the employees, all staring in shock.

"sugu, i–" you tried to say, but the words were caught in your throat as you bent over, heaving again.

"shit, y/n, hold on," suguru rushed to your side, worry etched all over his face as he gently gripped your shoulders, guiding you away from the crowd. "breathe, okay? just breathe."

uraume, always quick on their feet, swiftly called in a medic who had been on standby, just in case. “i’ve alerted the medic,” they said calmly, though their eyes betrayed the concern they felt seeing you like this.

but sukuna? he stood there, silent. frozen. for the first time in a long while, he didn't know what to feel. frustration, maybe? anger? embarrassment? or was it something else entirely — something closer to concern, though he’d never admit it, even to himself.

"fuck," sukuna muttered under his breath, the scowl on his face deepening as he watched the scene unfold. why the hell did she even drink that? part of him was annoyed, but there was a tug, something gnawing at him that he couldn't quite place. maybe it was the realization that seeing you like this affected him more than it should.

suguru glanced up at sukuna, his expression hard, almost daring him to say something. “you gonna stand there, or help?” he spat, one arm still supporting you as you struggled to get your bearings.

sukuna’s jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back, he turned and walked away from the scene, his fists clenched. "fuck this."

everyone seemed more interested in sukuna’s abrupt departure than the fact that you had just puked. the whispers and gossip quickly shifted from your heaving to the sight of ryomen sukuna walking out of the party without a word. sure, it wasn’t uncommon for people to get a little sick during the holidays — too much food, too much wine — but for sukuna to just up and leave while his business partner was clearly unwell? that was unheard of.

“did you see him just walk out? what the hell’s his problem?”

“seriously? with y/n being sick? kinda heartless.”

you could hear the murmurs from the washroom as you splashed cold water onto your face, trying to steady yourself. was it the wine? the memories? you weren’t sure anymore. your throat still burned, the taste of bile lingering as you rinsed your mouth. but it wasn’t just the physical reaction that made your chest tighten — it was everything else. why now? why here?

yuuji stood by the door, fidgeting awkwardly, his usual energy subdued. “you okay? need any more help?” he asked softly, his voice full of genuine concern. “i brought some mints if you want,” he added, pulling a small tin from his pocket, as if that could make things any better.

“thanks, yuuji,” you mumbled, forcing a small smile despite the situation. the sweetness in his gesture almost brought a tear to your eye.

suguru, on the other hand, was more serious, standing next to you as you dabbed a towel to your lips. “i knew this was a bad idea. should’ve pulled you out earlier,” he muttered under his breath, his hand hovering near your back, ready to steady you if you faltered again. “screw sukuna for making things worse.”

you shook your head, trying to dismiss the weight of it all. “it’s not his fault. i mean... i should’ve known better than to drink that.”

suguru’s expression darkened slightly at your words. “don’t defend him, y/n. he walked out like a dick while you’re here puking your guts out. that’s all i need to know.”

outside the washroom, uraume stood with quiet composure, offering their silent support. they didn’t say anything, but you knew. they couldn’t show outright sympathy — not with their loyalty to sukuna so visibly on display. but their presence alone was reassuring, as if they were silently letting you know that you weren’t alone in this.

“uraume...you don’t have to wait outside, you know,” you called out, your voice a little shaky.

“i know,” they replied evenly, their tone cool yet gentle. “but i’ll remain here, just in case.” their respect for boundaries was evident, but it didn’t make their support any less felt.

you let out a long, shaky breath, staring at your reflection in the mirror. your eyes were red-rimmed, but whether that was from the nausea or the emotional weight, you couldn’t tell. the memories tied to that damn wine were coming back, thick and heavy, clouding your thoughts.

why did it feel like this partnership was costing you more than you ever anticipated?

“this isn’t just about tonight,” you finally admitted aloud, though it was more to yourself than anyone else. suguru caught the shift in your tone, a flicker of worry crossing his face.

“what do you mean?” suguru asked, frowning.

you shook your head. “nothing... it’s just... all of this. it’s taking more of a toll on me than i thought.”

“then maybe it’s time to pull back,” suguru suggested, his voice steady but protective. “you don’t have to keep pushing yourself for this partnership. not if it’s dragging you down.”

you wiped at the corner of your eye, the unshed tears barely noticeable. “i don’t know if i can afford to pull back.”

suguru reached for your hand, his touch warm against your cold fingers. “then we’ll figure it out. together.”

with a small nod, you let out another deep breath, grateful for the support of the people who stayed, even while sukuna — and your past — walked out of the room.

sukuna sat at his desk, shoulders tense as he glared at the numbers flashing across his computer screen. he wasn’t reading them — hadn’t been for a while now. the only thing running through his mind was the scene from earlier, of you heaving in front of everyone at that damn christmas party. it left a bad taste in his mouth, one he couldn’t seem to wash away. and it wasn't just the wine or the party.

he heard the quiet creak of his office door opening but didn’t turn. he knew it was uraume before they even spoke.

“how’s she?” he asked, his voice blunt, the edge of irritation barely masked. he didn’t look up from the screen, but his mind had already drifted far from his work.

“she’s alright,” uraume said, tone calm despite their own weariness. “your brother and her partner were there for her.”

sukuna grunted. he was relieved but didn’t say it. the fact that you had been taken care of wasn’t the issue — it was the nagging frustration gnawing at him. he wasn’t sure what to call it. anger? guilt? neither of those felt right. his brow furrowed deeper, fingers tapping impatiently on the desk as uraume lingered in the doorway.

they stood silently for a moment before finally daring to speak, stepping into the lion’s den with a quiet firmness. “you know, walking out like that…” uraume started, carefully choosing their words. “it wasn’t your best decision.”

sukuna’s eyes flicked up at that, narrowing slightly. “the fuck are you getting at?” his voice was sharp, a bite in his tone that dared them to continue. uraume had always been one of the few who could speak openly to him, but even they knew the risks of poking at the king of curses when he was in a mood.

“she was sick. and you left.” uraume crossed their arms, unshaken by sukuna’s glare. “it’s not just about appearances. it’s about how you handled the situation. or didn’t handle it.”

sukuna’s jaw clenched. "she’s not my fucking problem, alright? i don’t owe her anything," he snapped, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “i’m not her babysitter. she got too into the wine, and it’s not my job to stand around coddling her like some fuckin’ weakling.”

uraume’s gaze didn’t waver. “it wasn’t about babysitting her. it was about showing you gave a damn. even if you don’t owe her anything, she’s still your business partner for the time being.”

sukuna scoffed, pushing his chair back and standing up abruptly. “don’t lecture me about giving a damn, uraume. i’ve done enough, and i’m not gonna sit around and play nice just because she puked at a party.”

but uraume wasn’t done. they stepped closer, their calm demeanor unshaken by sukuna’s rising frustration. “you’re not stupid. you know that partnership took more out of her than you think. her past with you, everything… it’s all coming back to haunt her. you walking away just made it worse.”

sukuna’s fist slammed onto the desk, the loud bang echoing through the room. “what the hell do you expect me to do? pat her on the back and tell her it’s all sunshine and rainbows? fuck that. she knew what she was getting into.”

uraume remained calm. “maybe she did, but you didn’t have to make it harder for her.”

sukuna’s eyes darkened, tension crackling in the air. “don’t tell me how to handle my shit. i’ve got enough to deal with without worrying about her.” he was almost growling now, but uraume held their ground, unflinching.

“you may not need to worry about her,” uraume said quietly, “but that doesn’t mean you should go out of your way to hurt her. you left for a reason tonight. you felt something, even if you won’t admit it.”

sukuna stared at them, his lips pulled into a scowl, but he said nothing. the silence stretched, heavy with unspoken tension. he hated that uraume was right, even if he wouldn’t admit it. he had felt something. a pang of discomfort, maybe even guilt. watching you like that had stirred something inside him, and that feeling had only made him angrier.

he didn’t know how to process it, so he had walked away.

with a sigh, uraume took a step back, sensing that pushing further would only provoke him more. “think about it, ryomen,” they said softly before turning to leave.

as the door closed behind them, sukuna sank back into his chair, his mind racing. he hated feeling like this — like there was something clawing at him from the inside, something he couldn’t control. and the worst part? it was all because of you.

he scowled, running a hand through his hair. "fucking hell," he muttered under his breath. you had gotten under his skin, and he wasn’t sure what pissed him off more — your presence or the fact that he cared enough to notice.

hi lovelies <3 taglist is still open, please have your age displayed in your bio to be added. this will gradually deal with darker themes, and i wish everyone to be of age (AKA 18+) before adding them. thank you for understanding! let me know how you liked this chapter (: if you don't have your age in your bio and you still ask to be added, i'll just ignore your request. please read the above! produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

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solar-wing · 2 months ago

Text

⚣ Heroes of You and Me 💧

⚣🌊 A/N → The way you people get series and 20k+ fics out of me needs to be studied. How was a request SUPPOSED to be a one-shot, turn into a whole multi-part fic. Maybe I didn't feel like cramming over 20k words into one fic again. (and look how that went). But lemme me tell you something, cause I warned yall how I feel about writing for IRL characters. If Sky's actor who's name I won't specify for fear of his pr team getting a ping from this and showing it to him ever posts a reaction of him reading THIS or ANY fanfiction, this and ME will disappear off the face of the earth. I am not above going into hiding and living off the land. anyways, enjoy! MUAH 😘 WARNINGS: Slight Canon Divergence | Emotional Angst | Growing Curiosity and Feelings | Slow-Burn (fuck yall cause I hate slow burns but also still love you) | Jealousy |

⚣🌊 Summary → Magic, monsters, and bad decisions—The new fairies just wanted a peaceful first day considering how much everything had changed for them recently, but now they're dodging Burned Ones, losing magical rings, and trying not to die. Welcome to the Otherworld. What else could go wrong? Wait...don't ask that.

⚣🌊 Words → 26.6K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🌊

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Sky made his way through the steel gates that led him into the courtyard of Alfea College, the late morning sun casting warm rays across the stone pathways. The campus was alive with the hustle of move-in day, the energy palpable as students reunited, chatted, and navigated their way to their respective dorms. Sky slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, taking a moment to breathe in the familiar scent of fresh-cut grass and the distant hum of chatter.

As he surveyed the scene, a familiar sense of unease settled in his chest—a mix of unresolved tensions from last year and the pressure of the responsibilities awaiting him this year. He pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand: getting through another year at Alfea.

‘Another year’, he thought, his gaze sweeping over the bustling scene before him. Despite the familiar surroundings, there was a tight knot of tension in his chest, a lingering unease that he couldn’t quite shake. It could be the anticipation of his new role as a squad captain, which Silva had been kind enough to only inform him about a couple of weeks before the start of the school year. Whatever it was, he pushed it to the back of his mind and focused on the task at hand.

As he walked though the courtyard though, Sky couldn’t help but notice the contrasting scenes around him. All the smiling faces of friends reuniting after a whole three months apart, animatedly talking to each other about their vacations and showing pictures and funny videos on their phones. Then, there were those who weren’t talking to anyone, but taking every moment they could to take a ‘aesthetic’ photo so they could update their Insta stories. That was his generation for you.

Just as Sky started making his way toward the Specialist hall, a few familiar voices called out to him.

"Sky! There he is, our fearless leader!" Timmy’s voice rang out, pulling Sky from his thoughts. He turned to see a group of his old friends waving him over, their faces lit up with excitement.

Sky couldn’t help but smile as he approached them, his unease momentarily lifting. "Hey, guys," he greeted, offering a firm handshake to each of them. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you too, man," Brandon said, grinning widely. "We were just saying how we were wondering when you’d show up. Thought maybe you’d decided to bail on us."

Sky chuckled, shaking his head. "Bail? You know me better than that. Just taking my time this morning."

While they were catching up, Sky’s attention was momentarily drawn away from the conversation as his eyes scanned the courtyard. It was instinctual, almost reflexive—years of training had taught him to be aware of his surroundings at all times. But what caught his eye this time wasn’t a potential threat; it was another student, possibly a Specialist judging by their build, looking very lost.

Without thinking, Sky patted Brandon on the shoulder, interrupting their conversation. "Hold on a sec," he said, his focus shifting entirely to the struggling student.

He started to make his way toward the guy, acting on an impulse of empathy and something else he couldn’t name. He remembered his first day at Alfea, the mix of excitement and nervousness, and how a small gesture of help could make all the difference. As he approached, he was about to call out when he saw someone else reach the guy first—Sam Harvey, an Earth fairy and one of Professor Harvey’s kids.

“Hey, you must be Y/N. I’m Sam,” the Earth fairy greeted with a warm smile, holding his hand out for introduction.

“Nice to meet you, and yep, that’s me. I’m guessing you're the one Headmistress Dowling assigned to show me around?”

As Sky slowed his approach, the realization that his assumption was wrong—that the guy was indeed not a Specialist but a fairy—stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t quite place why he felt a twinge of disappointment, but it was clear Sam had things under control. Just as he was about to turn back to his friends, something else caught his eye—a flash of ginger hair, standing in the middle of the courtyard with her bags. She also looked lost, her gaze scanning the courtyard as if she was waiting for someone.

When no one seemed to come, she grabbed her bags and started walking toward the Specialist Hall.

Sky hesitated for a moment, torn between going back to his friends and helping the girl who looked like she was struggling. The decision came easily enough—his natural instinct to help others always overrode everything else. He quickly started toward the girl, his strides purposeful but not hurried.

As he approached her, Sky noticed the way she was carrying herself—there was a certain determination in her step, but it was undercut by the uncertainty in her eyes as she glanced around. She didn’t seem to notice him at first, too focused on trying to figure out her way.

He didn’t quite know how to stop her and offer his help, so he just went with the first thing that came to mind.

“Wow, you are so lost,” he said, falling into step next to her.

Observational.

“I’m impressed with your confidence in the face of complete ignorance.”

Tactful…maybe?

“The issue is, you’re overcommitted. I mean, you’re essentially running.”

Yeah, there’s no word for this one. Maybe an ice cream truck will fall from the sky and save him. His only hope at this point.

“And now that I’m here, you can’t give me the satisfaction of turning around—”

Of course, throughout this entire questionable interaction, the specialist failed to notice her brows furrowing and the even more tense aura of her body language. Men…

“I don’t need help,” she interjected, saving everyone from witnessing a train wreck. A true hero, this girl is. “But thanks.”

“I don’t remember offering it,” he said with a slightly amused breath. “So presumptuous, you must be a fairy.”

“I am a fairy,” she responded, reluctantly continuing the dialogue while still trying to find where she was supposed to go.

As their conversation continued, neither noticed the approaching figure from behind or the eyes watching them from a distance. As Sky was pointing to the fairy hall, Riven, another Specialist and old friend of Sky’s, walked up to his friend from behind, surprising him.

“Quit perving on the first years,” Riven said with his usual condescending tone.

Sky, used to his friend's antics, wasn’t phased by it but did turn to acknowledge him.

“Riv, just give me one second. Yeah?”

“Why? You gonna chase her?” Riven asked, leaning to the side to look past him.

Sky turned his head to see that indeed, the girl had taken off, heading right for the fairy hall. He let out a disappointed sigh, though it wasn’t as bad as the one he felt earlier, which he was still confused about.

“Nope,” he replied before his friend tackled him with a hug. The two boys laughed and caught up while meeting up with the other Specialists and making their way over to the training grounds by the pond.

Sky and Riven made their way to the training grounds by the pond, the sounds of their laughter fading as they approached the more serious atmosphere of the Specialist area. The training grounds were a familiar sight, with well-worn paths leading to various stations where students practiced everything from hand-to-hand combat to more specialized weapons training.

As they entered the area, Silva, the head of the Specialists, was already there, barking orders at a group of first-year students who were fumbling through a basic drill. His sharp eyes caught sight of Sky and Riven, and he gave a nod of acknowledgment before turning his attention back to the recruits.

“Looks like the newbies are getting a warm welcome,” Riven commented, his tone laced with sarcasm as he watched a particularly nervous student nearly drop his weapon.

“Silva’s always had a way of making sure everyone knows what’s expected,” Sky replied, his gaze shifting to the group. “We were all in their shoes once.”

“Yeah, but some of us didn’t look like we were about to wet ourselves,” Riven shot back with a smirk.

Sky chuckled, but his focus was already shifting. He had a responsibility to these students now, not just as a fellow Specialist but as their squad captain. The weight of it settled more heavily on his shoulders with each passing moment, but he knew better than to let it show.

“Let’s get warmed up,” Sky suggested, nodding towards the sparring rings where a few other upperclassmen were already engaged in drills.

Riven raised an eyebrow, clearly catching on to Sky’s shift in tone. “You’re all business today, aren’t you?”

“Just focused,” Sky replied, his voice steady. “It’s going to be a long year.”

Riven shrugged, though he didn’t argue. “Alright, let’s see if you’ve still got it, Captain.”

Did anyone else catch that foreshadowing? Why did that feel like foreshadowing? Uh uh, nope. Take it back, take it back right now!

As Silva continued to give introductory speeches and expectations to the first-years, the rest of the returning Specialists were all warming up, getting back into rhythm after what felt like a long summer. The familiar sounds of weapons clashing, feet shuffling against the ground, and the occasional grunt of effort filled the air, creating a symphony of discipline and focus.

Sky took a deep breath, letting the energy of the training grounds settle over him. This was where he thrived—in the midst of the action, surrounded by the familiar rhythm of drills and the unspoken camaraderie among his fellow Specialists. The weight of his new role as squad captain was still there, but it felt more manageable now, woven into the fabric of his responsibilities.

Riven, on the other hand, seemed content to stretch out the pre-drill banter for as long as possible. He gave Sky a sidelong glance, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “So, Captain, any big plans for how you’re going to whip these new recruits into shape?”

Sky rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You know Silva’s got that covered. I’m just here to make sure they don’t trip over their own feet too much.”

“Good luck with that,” Riven quipped, his tone light, though his eyes flicked over to the first-years with a more serious glint. “Looks like we’ve got a few who might need a miracle to make it through the first week.”

While they continued sparring with each other, Riven found moments to keep teasing Sky—not only about his new role but also about the ginger-haired girl he caught him with in the courtyard. A joke about Sky being smitten after one chat, and another about how gingers are amazing shags.

Classy, Riven. Classy.

But, of course, Sky, ever the romantic, couldn’t help but feel there was something about her. Yet, his mind couldn’t seem to stay away from the fairy he had been approaching before Sam stepped in.

After their last spar ended with Sky knocking Riven on his butt, they decided to call it. Well, more like Riven decided to skip the rest of the session to go have a smoke in the woods, asking Sky to distract his ‘aggro father figure’ so he didn’t get caught—and thus expelled.

Again, very classy, Riven. Please note the extreme sarcasm.

Though he hadn’t planned to, Sky ended up doing exactly as Riven asked when Silva pulled him into an impromptu spar, using him as an example of what first-years could become, legacy admissions or not, if they showed up and did the work. But then, one of the students had to chuckle, and now they were all getting a vivid story about how Silva lost his father to a Burned One when he was only ten years old.

No one could imagine what it was like for a 10-year-old boy to watch the light and life drain from his father’s body—then to be the one to put their parent down, knowing it was either them or you. A few of the students bowed their heads, trying not to appear affected or ‘weak’ on their first day. But it was understandable why they would be.

Burned Ones had been part of the Otherworld for as long as anyone could remember. They were creatures with humanoid figures that moved faster than a car and were just as ruthless as wild animals. Their charred and blackened appearances looked as if they had just walked out of a raging fire, somehow still alive, but burnt to a crisp, with cracks that glowed like embers, revealing the fiery torment that raged within them. Their limbs were long and skeletal, their fingers ending in claws sharp enough to tear through flesh and bone. But it was their faces that truly terrified—hollowed, with sunken eyes that glowed with a sickly, menacing light, and mouths filled with jagged teeth, ever ready to rend and consume.

The Burned Ones were more than just monsters—they were the stuff of nightmares, their very existence etched into the collective fear of society. Some said they were the remnants of an ancient curse, while others believed they were born from dark magic, a spell that left them behind as twisted remnants of the souls consumed by it. Their appearance haunted the minds of those who dared to venture too close to the shadowed places they roamed.

In every village, town, and city across the realms, the story of the Burned Ones had been passed down through generations. It was a tale told with hushed voices around campfires, a warning to the young and old alike. The Burned Ones were said to be the vengeful spirits of those who had fallen to the darkest depths of magic, their bodies scorched and twisted by the flames of their own corruption. They were symbols of dark times, death, and destruction—a reminder of the consequences of straying too far into the forbidden realms of the magical world. Parents would tell their children to behave, to stay within the bounds of what was known and safe, lest they suffer the same fate as those who became like the ones they feared.

As Silva so beautifully (or questionably and concerningly) put it to Dane, the first-year Specialist who dared chuckle, “Be thankful you’ve never seen a Burned One. But if you do, pray that it kills you, so the ones you love will not have to.”

The other first-years all looked a bit put off—nervous, terrified, or finding something far off to focus on instead. It was clear Silva’s story had shaken them. Dane, who had initially met Silva's gaze with unflinching defiance, now held a stance that communicated fear despite his best efforts to hide it.

Was it a bit extreme? Maybe. But it was also unnecessary.

No one has seen a Burned One in years. Yeah, they’ve got the protective barrier, but if the last sighting was more than a decade ago, then what’s all the fuss about?

Just as Silva finished his tale, a scream echoed from the forest, cutting through the tension like a knife. Riven.

It’s always fucking Riven…

The tension from the training grounds lingered in the air, following Sky as he headed back toward his dorm in the Specialists' Hall with his friend, who was a bit more shaken up than he’d liked to admit, yet still trying to act as if he was fine. Whatever he saw was enough to spark a wildfire of rumors, spreading to every corner of Alfea, and it wasn’t long before the news traveled to the heart of the school—the Headmistress’s office.

Y/N stood outside Headmistress Farah Dowling’s office, the cool stone walls of Alfea surrounding him like a protective barrier. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the meeting ahead. His thoughts were a whirlwind, full of the uncertainties that had plagued him since the decision to come to this school, and even before that.

The office door creaked open as Y/N hesitated, a warm voice beckoning him inside.

“Come in, Y/N,” the Headmistress called, her tone gentle yet authoritative.

Y/N stepped into the office, taking in the room’s comforting atmosphere. Shelves lined with ancient tomes and magical artifacts adorned the walls, while the large stained glass window behind Farah’s desk let in the soft, natural light of the morning sun. Farah herself sat behind her desk, her expression calm, yet her eyes held a depth that made Y/N feel as though she could see straight through to the core of him.

“Please, have a seat,” she offered, gesturing to the chair across from her.

Y/N nodded, moving to sit down, his movements slightly stiff from nerves. As he got settled in the seat, waiting for the Headmistress to begin, the weight of everything hit him hard. He thought about Sam, his new roommate and mentor, and how, despite his helpfulness, Y/N still felt like a fish out of water. Sam had been kind and welcoming, showing him around and making sure he didn’t get lost, but there was still an overwhelming sense of unfamiliarity.

His thoughts drifted to the other students he’d seen around campus—their easy smiles, their confident strides. They all seemed to belong here, like they’d been doing this their whole lives. Y/N, on the other hand, felt like he was constantly on the verge of tripping over his own feet. What if they found out he didn’t belong here? What if they discovered he was just an outsider pretending to be something he wasn’t?

He remembered walking past the training grounds, seeing a few students already practicing. Their movements were fluid, confident, like they were born with swords in their hands. Strangely enough, it reminded him of home for a moment, but then, he remembered these guys were using swords, not guns, and once again, he felt out of place. He could control water, sure, but combat? Strategy? He’d only ever learned those things from his dad, and even then, they were more about survival than thriving in a place like this.

But he was here now, and there was no turning back. He had to make this work. He had to prove—to himself more than anyone—that he could belong here, that he could make something of himself at Alfea.

The silence stretched for a moment as the Headmistress sorted through files before finally speaking, breaking the deafening quiet.

“How was your trip? Painless, I hope?” she asked.

Y/N went to respond, though his words seemed to get caught in his mouth, thinking back to the ‘convenient’ location Miss Dowling had instructed for him and his father to travel to. Close enough to where they resided, but far enough to hide from any prying eyes.

Y/N forced a smile, though it felt hollow. “It was... fine,” he replied, his voice betraying the turmoil just beneath the surface. The journey to Alfea had been anything but painless—not in the physical sense, but in the emotional weight it carried. The memory of his father standing in the middle of the clearing while he traveled through the magical gateway Miss Dowling had set up for him lingered in his mind. The man who had raised him, taught him everything he knew, and kept him and his secrets safe, had watched him leave. It felt a little too surreal and heart-aching for Y/N’s taste.

It was like the feeling of being left behind, only this time around, he was the one leaving and not the one being left. And he wasn’t sure he knew how to cope with that.

Of course, his dad, tough as nails, didn’t shed any tears, but it was still clear as day how hard it was on him too, seeing Y/N step through that gateway, giving him a soldier’s salute as a final goodbye before the doorway closed behind him.

As much as Y/N wanted to be here—needed to be here—the thought of leaving his father behind gnawed at him. His dad had been his anchor, his rock, and now he was an unknown number of miles away, alone. Y/N’s chest tightened with the familiar pang of guilt, the same guilt that had clung to him since the day he’d agreed to come to Alfea.

He remembered the look in his father’s eyes as they said their goodbyes—a mixture of pride, worry, and something else that Y/N couldn’t quite place. It was as if his father knew this was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier for either of them. The memory of his dad’s last words echoed in his mind: “You’ve got this, kid. I’ll be here when you come home.”

Got what, though? Y/N didn’t even know what he was supposed to be ready for. All he knew was that he had to learn control—real control—over his powers before they controlled him. He could still remember the floodwater rushing through the halls, the panic in his father’s eyes as he tried to contain the situation. And the fear—Y/N’s own fear that he could have hurt someone, that he could have hurt his dad.

Yeah, so much for painless.

Y/N took a deep breath, forcing a more convincing smile onto his face as he looked up at Farah. “It was definitely an experience,” he said, trying to infuse some lightness into his voice. “The, uh, magical gateway was a nice touch. Makes traveling feel a bit more... grand.”

Farah smiled gently, but Y/N could see the understanding in her eyes. She wasn’t fooled by his attempt at humor, and it made him feel a strange mix of comfort and vulnerability.

“I’m glad the journey went smoothly,” Farah replied, her tone warm but measured. “I know leaving home is never easy, especially under such... unusual circumstances.”

Y/N nodded, his smile fading slightly as he looked down at his hands, which were clenched in his lap. “Yeah, it’s been... a lot,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I’ve never been away from home or at least my dad like this. And with everything that happened, it’s hard not to feel...”

“Out of place?” Farah offered gently.

Y/N looked up at her, surprised by how easily she seemed to understand. He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Like I’m in over my head.”

Farah leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady and reassuring. “It’s perfectly normal to feel that way, Y/N. Alfea is a place of learning, but it’s also a place of growth. You’re not expected to have all the answers right now, or to have everything figured out. That’s why you’re here—to learn, to grow, and to discover your own path.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her words hitting closer to home than he expected. He wanted to believe her, wanted to feel like he could find his place here. But the weight of his powers, the fear of what he could do if he lost control again, was a constant shadow hanging over him.

“I just don’t want to let anyone down,” he confessed, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Farah’s expression softened even more, and she reached out, resting her hand lightly on his. “You won’t, Y/N. I can see the strength in you, even if you can’t see it yourself yet. It’s okay to be afraid, but don’t let that fear hold you back. You’re here because you have potential, and we’re going to help you reach it and refine it.”

Y/N felt a lump form in his throat, and he nodded, unable to find the words to respond. Farah’s kindness, her unwavering belief in him, was something he wasn’t used to. It made him want to try, to push through the fear and doubt, if only to prove her right.

“Thank you, Headmistress,” he managed to say, his voice thick with emotion.

Farah gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “You’re welcome, Y/N. You can think of Alfea as your new home. You have people here who want to help you, who want to see you succeed. Don’t be afraid to lean on them when you need to.”

Another moment of silence passed between them, with Y/N rubbing his hands up and down his legs to stir his nerves.

“I trust Sam has been treating you well, yes?” Farah asked.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded again. “Yeah, he’s been great. Really helpful, showing me around and making sure I don’t get lost.”

Farah smiled at that, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. Sam is one of our most dependable students. He’s Professor Harvery’s son who you’ll meet when taking your potions, botany, and natural magics courses. I figured he’d be a good fit to help you adjust.”

Y/N offered a small smile in return. “He’s definitely made things easier. It’s just... a lot to take in, you know?”

“I can imagine,” Farah replied, her expression softening. “It’s a big change, but you’re handling it well. And remember, you have people like Sam—and me—here to support you.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit of the tension in his chest ease. “Thanks, Headmistress. That means a lot.”

Farah gave him an encouraging smile before leaning back in her chair. “Now, let’s talk about what you can expect this year.”

Y/N straightened up slightly, eager to shift the conversation toward something more concrete. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering about classes and... well, everything really. I want to make sure I’m prepared.”

Farah nodded, understanding the unspoken concerns in his words. “Of course. Your schedule has been tailored to help you develop your skills while also giving you a solid foundation in the broader aspects of magical education. You’ll start with the basics, learning how to use your magic slowly, but safely in a controlled environment. And, to reiterate as I did with the student I had right before you, when I say slowly, I do mean it. Magic can be dangerous and I don’t want you to cause yourself any harm in trying to prove something. But, I do believe you’ll find the subjects we have laid out for you not only challenging but also rewarding.”

Y/N listened intently, absorbing the information. He appreciated the Headmistress’s approach—firm but understanding. It was clear that she valued safety and caution, which was something Y/N could respect, especially given his own fears about his powers.

Farah continued, “You’ve already demonstrated a remarkable degree of mastery for someone your age. That’s not something we see often, especially with powers as complex as yours.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, not expecting the compliment. “Thank you. My dad... he’s been a big help. He helped me learn how to control my powers enough from a young age to hide them for obvious reasons,” Y/N nervously laughed, but Farah’s warm smile kept him at ease. “He used a lot of techniques he learned from the military. Breathing exercises, disciplinary lessons, staying calm under pressure... it’s all pretty much drilled into me. No pun intended.”

Farah’s eyes softened with understanding. “Your father sounds like a wise man. It’s clear he’s done an excellent job helping you harness your abilities. Water fairies like yourself often have been known to struggle with control, given the fluid and ever-changing nature of water itself. But you’ve managed to find a balance.”

Y/N looked down at his hands, which had finally unclenched. The memories of his father’s training sessions flashed through his mind—hours spent practicing, focusing, and learning to control the water that flowed through him like second nature. “He just wanted to make sure I didn’t put anyone... or myself at risk.”

“And he succeeded,” Farah smiled warmly, a sense of reassurance in her gaze. “You’ll also have regular meetings with me to discuss your progress and address any concerns. And you can always reach out if you need help with anything.”

Y/N was about to respond when the door to the office burst open, startling both of them. A Specialist student, out of breath and with a look of urgency on his face, stood in the doorway. Farah immediately tensed, her calm demeanor shifting to one of alertness.

“Headmistress, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s been an incident in the forest,” the student panted. “ Professor Silva asked me to inform you immediately.”

Farah’s eyes narrowed slightly, her mind clearly processing the information quickly. She rose from her seat, her authority evident in the way she carried herself.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with concern.

“I’m not sure, but Mr. Silva said it was urgent and asked for you and Professor Harvey to come quickly. In the forest near the training grounds.”

Farah’s expression grew more serious as she turned to Y/N. “Y/N, we’ll have to continue this conversation later. For now, I need you to stay in the main building and avoid the forest. I’ll have Sam meet you to help you get settled into your dorm.”

Y/N stood up as Farah did, the tension in the room palpable. He felt a strange mix of anxiety and curiosity at the mention of the incident in the forest, but he knew better than to pry.

“Yes, Headmistress,” Y/N replied, his voice steady despite the unease settling in his chest, his discipline from living on a military base immediately kicking in as a response to the headmistress’s authoritative tone.

Farah nodded, offering him a reassuring smile despite the urgency in her eyes. “Good. I’m sure everything will be fine, but it’s best to be cautious. Stay close to the main building and try to relax for the rest of the day.”

Well, that was a bit ironic considering she looked anything but relaxed herself.

As she grabbed her coat from the stand near the door, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in her demeanor. Gone was the gentle, nurturing headmistress; in her place stood a leader, focused and ready to handle whatever was waiting in the forest. The transformation was striking, and for a moment, Y/N felt a mix of admiration and a touch of intimidation. It was a reminder that, beneath the warmth, Farah Dowling was a woman who commanded respect and authority in a world that demanded both.

Y/N nodded, offering a small, appreciative smile. “I will. Thank you, Headmistress.”

Farah gave him one last nod before slipping out of the office, her coat billowing slightly as she moved with purpose down the corridor. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Y/N alone in the quiet office.

As Farah left the room, Y/N lingered for a moment, feeling the weight of the conversation settle over him. The urgency of the situation in the forest hung in the air, but there was something else, too—a sense of unease that he couldn’t quite shake. He knew he had to follow the headmistress’s instructions, but the curiosity gnawed at him. What could be so urgent that it pulled her away from their meeting?

Y/N let out a slow breath, reminding himself that it wasn’t his place to get involved, not yet anyway. He was still the new kid here, barely even unpacked, and already there was so much to take in. His thoughts flicked back to Sam, who had been nothing but helpful since his arrival. Maybe if he found Sam, he could get some guidance on what to do next, or at the very least, some company to distract him from the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling.

He glanced at the door, knowing he should probably try to find his way back to his dorm. But without Sam around to guide him, it felt like navigating a maze. He couldn’t remember the exact turns they’d taken earlier, and the thought of wandering aimlessly through the hallways didn’t exactly appeal to him.

After a brief moment of indecision, Y/N decided it might be worth exploring a bit. If he could find his way back to the dorm on his own, it would be a small victory—proof that he was capable of figuring things out here, even without someone holding his hand.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, stepping out into the hallway. “Time to see if I can actually find my way around this place.”

He took a deep breath and started down the corridor, hoping he’d get lucky and run into someone familiar—or at the very least, a sign pointing him in the right direction.

“Who actually saw the Shepherd’s body?” Terra, an Earth Fairy and Sam’s sister, asked as she held her beverage, talking with two of her freshly acquainted suitemates, Aisha and Musa. Her usual bright tone was tinged with unease, the curiosity and morbid speculation threading through the conversation like a dark undercurrent. “Maybe he was just old. People get old, die. We all die.”

“That old-age decapitation really sneaks up on you,” Musa quipped, a dry laugh escaping her as they lingered near the snack table at the orientation party. The lively atmosphere clashed with the darker topic swirling around the room, the buzz of gossip overshadowing the usual excitement of the new school year.

The air felt thick with rumors. The discovery of the Shepherd’s body, mutilated and left in the forest just outside the magical barrier, had set the school abuzz. Headmistress Dowling had tried to keep things under wraps, hoping to prevent a panic, but apparently, she didn’t hope hard enough. The news had spread faster than wildfire, twisting through the student body and growing more sinister with each retelling.

“Happened to my nan right in the middle of Bingo,” Aisha added with a grin, clutching a churro stick as she joined the dark humor. “Just... thwop, thwop, thwop. Down the table.” She mimed a head rolling off, her satirical tone not helping much to veil the subtle tension beneath still.

Musa laughed, a sharp burst of sound that cut through the unease for the earth fairy, though she remained quiet. As they continued their conversation, it was in this moment that Y/N strolled into the party. He glanced around, taking in the lively scene, but the undercurrent of tension still being unmistakable. He wasn’t immune to the rumors either; whispers about the dead Shepherd had reached him not long after he left his meeting with the Headmistress.

As his eyes scanned the room, he spotted Sam standing on the other side of the room closer to another beverage table, chatting with a few other students. Y/N weaved through the crowd, nodding to a few faces he recognized from his earlier tour around campus, but feeling that familiar sense of being an outsider in a crowd where everyone else seemed to belong.

“Y/N!” Sam called out as soon as he spotted him, waving him over. “There you are! Glad you made it.”

Y/N offered a small smile, grateful for the warmth in Sam’s greeting, even if the unease from the ongoing gossip lingered in his mind.

“Yeah,” Y/N responded with a small smile, though his thoughts were elsewhere. “Got a bit lost coming from the Headmistress’ office but I made it. I was gonna go back to the dorm but I’d figured I’d check it out.”

"Good call. Everyone's here tonight." Sam gestured around at the buzzing party, cups in hand, snacks being passed, though there was still a murmur beneath it all—a sense of unease they couldn’t quite shake off.

Just then, Terra approached, her expression somewhere between cheerful and overwhelmed, as if she didn’t know where to go. Which, was a bit weird considering both her and Sam practically grew up around Alfea. Her warm demeanor returned quickly, though, as she saw her brother standing with Y/N. Sam immediately gestured toward her as she approached.

"Y/N, meet my sister, Terra. Terra, this is Y/N, my new roommate.”

Y/N extended his hand with a polite smile. “Hey. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!” Terra responded brightly, shaking his hand with enthusiasm. “Sam’s told me a bit about you. I hope he hasn’t scared you off yet.”

Y/N chuckled lightly. “Nah, not yet. He’s been a good guide.”

“Good,” Terra said, still holding onto a friendly smile. “I know Alfea can be a bit overwhelming at first. Especially with... you know, everything going on.”

There was an unspoken understanding between them—everyone knew what she was referring to. Y/N gave a slight nod, sensing the weight of what had happened in the forest still hanging over the party. Even though Terra was trying to keep things light, he could tell she wasn’t as carefree as she appeared.

“Everything alright, Terra?” Sam asked sensing his sister’s somewhat tense and despondent mood.

Terra looked a little caught off guard at the question, trying to keep her cheerful demeanor up, but both Sam and Y/N could see through it.

“Oh, I’m good. Just a little early roommate drama, but nothing to worry about. Joys of having five girls in one space.”

Sam raised a brow, a knowing smile playing at his lips. “You mean to tell me you’ve already started trouble? And here I was thinking it’d take at least a week before you drove someone mad.”

Y/N noticed how Terra tensed at the jab. On the surface, it was harmless, the kind of playful sibling banter Y/N had seen between others plenty of times. But something about the way Terra’s smile faltered—how her fingers tightened just a bit around the rim of her glass—hinted at a deeper insecurity. He couldn’t quite place it, but it was as if she was trying too hard to brush it off. Maybe it was the pressure of being likable, of wanting to fit in with her new roommates, that made her so self-conscious.

From what Y/N could tell, Terra seemed like the type who wanted to go out of her way to please everyone around her. That kind of eagerness could easily come across as overbearing to the wrong people. He had seen it before—people who bent over backward to make others happy but ended up standing on shaky ground themselves. Maybe her need to fit in made her more vulnerable to criticism or, worse, outright rejection.

He could see Sam pick up on the shift as well, though his smile remained teasing. "Isn’t Stella in your suite?" Sam asked suddenly, his tone seemingly casual but loaded with implication. Y/N didn’t miss the way Terra’s face fell for just a second—too brief to be obvious to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. The name "Stella" alone seemed to strike a deeper chord.

Y/N's curiosity piqued. He hadn’t met everyone at the school yet, and the way Terra reacted made him wonder who exactly this Stella was. He could sense there was something more to the question, something beneath the surface that Terra wasn’t saying.

“Stella?” Y/N asked, tilting his head slightly. “Who’s that?”

Terra hesitated, glancing between Y/N and Sam before finally answering. “Stella’s... well, she’s the Crown Princess of Solaria. You know, the realm that Alfea’s in.”

Y/N’s brows raised at that. “A princess? Seriously?”

Terra nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, seriously. She’s... well, she’s royalty, so she’s got that whole ‘above-it-all’ vibe, I guess. She’s in my suite with Aisha, Musa, and Bloom.”

Y/N could sense there was more she wasn’t saying—maybe something about the way Stella acted, or the dynamic between the roommates. Still, he didn’t press. “Sounds intense,” he said instead, trying to keep things light.

“You could say that.” Terra let out a soft laugh, though it sounded a little forced. Her eyes flickered for a moment, as if debating whether to continue. “She’s kind of... used to getting her way, I guess.” Terra hesitated, her gaze briefly shifting to the side before she added, “And then, there’s her history with Sky…”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Terra’s expression shifted, her eyes widening slightly as if she realized she’d said too much. She bit her lip, clearly regretting bringing it up, and quickly glanced at Y/N, gauging his reaction.

Y/N blinked, intrigued by the new information. He didn’t know who Sky was, but judging by the way Terra said it, it seemed like a complicated situation. “Sky?”

“Yeah, Sky’s a Specialist,” Sam chimed in, filling the gap. “Top of the class, actually. He’s… well, kind of Alfea’s golden boy. Everyone looks up to him.” Sam’s expression shifted slightly, as if even he had mixed feelings about the guy.

Y/N nodded slowly, processing the new information. A princess and the top Specialist—there was definitely more to unpack there, but he decided to leave it for another time. Instead, he turned back to Terra, offering her a small, encouraging smile. “Well, it seems like you’re holding your own, right? Can’t be easy.”

Terra seemed to relax a little at that, her smile becoming a bit more genuine. “Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s just... new, you know?”

“Oh yeah,” Y/N said with a chuckle, thinking about his own recent arrival. “I definitely know a thing or two about being new.”

Terra’s mood seemed to lift at that, her smile growing a little brighter. Sam, noticing the shift in his sister’s demeanor, seemed pleased to see her returning to her usual cheerful self.

“Well, since you are new, and I’m positive Sam didn’t show you nearly enough of Alfea for you to know your way around,” Terra began, her voice taking on a teasing lilt, “why don’t I give you a proper tour? We can explore a bit more of the party. There’s so much you haven’t seen yet.”

Sam shot her a mock-offended look. “Hey! I think I did a pretty decent job as a tour guide, thank you very much.”

Terra raised an eyebrow, her expression dripping with playful skepticism. She turned to Y/N, clearly setting up her next move. “How many times have you gotten lost already?”

“Twice,” Y/N admitted, flashing a sheepish grin. Sam immediately threw his hands up in exaggerated frustration, his face contorting into a look of mock betrayal.

“See?” Terra smirked triumphantly, turning back to Sam before looking at Y/N. “I rest my case.”

Y/N chuckled, shooting an apologetic glance toward his roommate. “Sorry, Sam.”

Sam clutched at his chest as if wounded, putting on a show of hurt. “Go on then, leave me behind. Abandon your proper tour guide. I’ll just be here… wallowing.”

Terra shook her head, clearly amused, as she gently tugged Y/N along. “You’ll be fine, drama queen.”

Y/N gave Sam an apologetic wave, mouthing ‘Sorry’ again as they moved further into the crowd, Sam waving him off with a faux-injured expression that quickly turned into a playful grin.

Sam watched as Terra tugged Y/N further into the crowd. “Just don’t let her talk your ear off about plants,” Sam called after them. “I’ve heard it all before.”

“Oh, shut up!” Terra threw back at her brother, laughing now.

Across the party, Sky stood casually by a pillar, his eyes scanning the crowd of new and returning students as they mingled and introduced themselves to one another. Though his posture was relaxed, his mind was far from idle—people-watching was something of a habit at these events, and tonight was no exception.

Yet, despite the throng of lively faces, his gaze kept drifting back to a familiar figure: the new arrival he’d seen earlier. He couldn’t quite place why, but something about this fairy had captured his attention. As he watched them walk off with Terra, a flicker of curiosity tugged at him.

Before Sky could think too much about it, a voice snapped him out of his quiet observation.

“This is a lot of people,” came the familiar voice of the red-haired fairy he had tried to assist earlier.

Sky’s head snapped around, his gaze falling on the fairy who’s name he learned to be Bloom. A smile pulled at his lips as she approached, chuckling softly.

“What? You don’t have parties in California?” Sky played along, pretending not to remember their earlier conversation. There was something playful in the way he said it, but his focus remained split—part of his mind still on the new fairy and his curious departure with Terra.

“Oh, he remembers!” Bloom quipped back, her own smile matching his as she tugged her jacket a little closer.

“Oh, impressed?” Sky chuckled, his tone light as he tried to push thoughts of Y/N out of his head, if only for a moment. He offered Bloom a soft smile, though there was an undeniable flicker of distraction in his eyes.

For a brief moment, there was a comfortable silence between them, the hum of the party surrounding them like background noise. But Sky’s attention was tugged back to Bloom as she gestured to the crowd.

“Where can I go that’s the opposite… of this?” Bloom asked, her voice lowering as her gaze flicked toward the noisy party. “What’s outside?”

Sky blinked, her question catching him off guard. “What, beyond the Barrier?” he asked, incredulity creeping into his tone. His mind raced slightly, trying to figure out if she was serious.

“Mm-hmm,” Bloom responded with a nod, her curiosity clearly piqued.

Sky couldn’t help but smirk. “Well, depending on rumors, wolves, bears… or something much scarier.”

He expected that to be enough to dissuade her, but Bloom didn’t even flinch.

“But no people?” she asked, cutting straight to the point. Her gaze flicked back to him, searching for an answer.

Sky hesitated, his posture stiffening slightly as the weight of his concern settled over him. “Um…” He didn’t really want to let her go out there alone, especially with the tension in the air since the discovery in the forest. Was it his place to offer?

“Perfect, thanks,” Bloom nodded quickly, turning to leave without a second thought.

“Wait,” Sky blurted out, stepping forward and stopping her without actually touching her. “At the risk of, um... mansplaining, it is dangerous outside right now. You probably shouldn’t go alone.”

Bloom’s eyes narrowed slightly, her lips curving into a smirk as she threw back, “Are you offering to escort me?”

Sky’s smile turned slightly sheepish. He hadn’t meant it as an invitation, not really. But as she said it, the words hung in the air between them, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt that this interaction had gone in a direction he hadn’t anticipated.

“Is that what this is? It’s not the worst pickup line,” Bloom scoffed, her chuckle half-masked by something deeper, though her amusement was clear.

“It wasn’t a line,” Sky said, raising a brow, his voice casual but firm. “Trust me?”

Bloom’s expression softened, though she wasn’t quite ready to let her guard down. “Hm. I just met you, but maybe one day I will.”

They locked eyes for a brief moment, a quiet pause settling between them. Sky’s gaze lingered on Bloom, but in the back of his mind, an unspoken curiosity remained—one that drew him back to the quiet stranger who had caught his attention earlier that day. Why his attention and focus kept seeming to rush back to this stranger who he hadn’t even properly met was a bit perplexing but nothing he felt he needed to dissect.

But even if he wanted to, he couldn’t dwell on it any further, as another familiar voice broke through the moment.

“Hey, Sky. Can we talk?” Stella’s voice was light, but there was an edge to it, something demanding his attention.

Sky tore his gaze away from Bloom, his expression shifting as he turned to face Stella. His shoulders stiffened slightly, a hint of frustration creeping in. He glanced back at Bloom, only to see her taking the opportunity to slip away.

Bloom didn’t waste a second, skedaddling into the crowd, leaving Sky standing there with a faint sense of disappointment—and maybe even a little agitation. He sighed, watching her disappear from sight as Stella stepped closer. And while his attention should’ve been fully on Stella by now, part of him still lingered elsewhere, in thoughts of Y/N.

With a slight exasperated breath, he stepped over to face the Princess of Solaria, taking the orange beverage she held out for him in silence with no reaction, though he didn’t drink it, rather opting to wait for her to speak. He could already feel the tension that always seemed to follow their interactions.

"I haven't seen you all day," Stella commented, her tone light but with an underlying edge, something Sky recognized all too well.

“Summer, Stella. All summer,” Sky replied, his voice carrying an exasperated note as he let out a breath. His expression reflected the weariness of someone who had dealt with this dynamic for far too long.

Stella tilted her head, a carefully controlled smile playing on her lips. “You know that girl you were talking to? Bloom? Yeah, she’s my suitemate.” Her words were laced with a mixture of casual observation and thinly veiled warning, though she tried to play it cool.

Sky’s brow furrowed slightly as he met her gaze. “So, what does that mean, Stel? That I can’t talk to her?” He knew where this conversation was heading, but he wasn’t interested in playing along.

“I didn’t say that,” Stella quickly retorted, her voice deceptively sweet, though Sky could feel the tension building beneath her words.

He stared at her for a beat, then sighed, pushing the conversation to the point. “What are you saying, specifically?” His tone sharpened, a touch of sarcasm creeping in. “I’d hate to make you upset. I know what happens when you get upset.”

Their exchange was attracting a few curious glances from the nearby students, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by either of them. Sky’s gaze flicked toward the onlookers briefly before returning to Stella.

Stella’s smile wavered just for a second, a flash of something like vulnerability crossing her features before she masked it. “I’m sure you’ll do the right thing,” she said, her voice steady but tight.

Sky held her gaze for a moment longer, then handed back the glass without taking a sip. “I always do,” he replied, slipping one hand into his brown leather jacket before turning to walk off, the weight of the interaction already tiring him.

Stella took the glass back begrudgingly, her grip tightening around it as she noticed the eyes of the crowd still lingering on them. She shot them a sharp look, raising her chin in defiance.

"Enjoy the show?" she snapped, her words laced with irritation before she stormed off, leaving the onlookers to exchange glances in her wake.

But as Stella strode away, her focus on Bloom was more than a little misdirected. Sure, she noticed the subtle sparks between Sky and the new girl, and that definitely stung. But, in reality, Bloom wasn’t the one who posed the real threat to her carefully constructed world—not yet, at least. Though bunking just beyond the wall, the redhead was only the start of Stella's concerns.

Because, whether she realized it or not, and whether Sky did either, there was another fairy lingering quietly in the background. One who was already starting to occupy space in the blonde Specialist’s mind, even if no one had caught on just yet. And for now, that particular fairy was flying completely under Stella's radar.

The sun was gradually sinking toward the horizon, its warm light fading as the moon began to ascend into the night sky. Terra had managed to show Y/N far more of the school than Sam had, and with each new landmark or shortcut, Y/N felt his anxiety ease a little more. Navigating the sprawling grounds of Alfea didn’t seem as daunting now, and the prospect of finding his classes in the morning felt less like a challenge and more like something he could manage.

He appreciated Terra's extensive tour. While Sam’s earth magic allowed him to phase through walls and take unconventional routes, the paths he’d shown Y/N earlier hadn’t exactly been practical for someone without those abilities. But Terra's guidance had been a lifesaver, giving Y/N the confidence he needed to feel a little more at ease in this new environment. And it didn’t hurt that he could now say he had another friend beyond just his roommate.

As they made their way back towards the main area where the orientation party was still in full swing, Y/N felt a quiet sense of accomplishment. He’d spent the day getting to know the school and making connections—small victories that meant a lot after such a whirlwind arrival.

When they reached the party, Y/N paused, looking back toward the lively crowd. “I think I’m going to step outside for a bit,” he said, turning to Terra with a small smile. “I need to call my dad, let him know I’m okay and made it through without any major disasters.”

Terra nodded, understanding. “Yeah, sure! It was good getting to hang out with you, hopefully we’ll have classes together. Maybe Sam and I’ll make an earth fairy out of you yet Or at least I can, Sam’s not that reliable..” She grinned, her teasing light-hearted.

Y/N chuckled. “Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Still got to master my own magic first.” With a wave, he stepped away from the party, grateful for a moment of quiet outside.

As he walked off, Terra’s gaze shifted across the canteen, catching sight of Riven. The cocky Specialist was in the middle of harassing what looked like a freshman. Her smile faded, irritation flashing in her eyes. “Great,” she muttered to herself, moving towards the scene, ready to intervene.

Y/N stepped out into the quiet evening, the crisp night air brushing against his skin as he moved away from the hum of the party. The noise, the whispers, and the pressing weight of new expectations faded into the background, replaced by the stillness of the night. Above him, the stars were beginning to dot the inky sky, and the moon hung like a soft lantern, casting a gentle glow across the grounds.

Under the soft glow of the moon, Y/N felt a quiet sense of peace settle over him, a kind of stillness that seemed to resonate deep within his core. The world around him grew quieter, and yet, at the same time, he felt more alive, more in tune with everything—especially the water that flowed in the nearby river. The moon's silver light washed over the landscape, but it also seemed to wash over him, sharpening his senses, making him more aware of the subtle hum of magic pulsing through his veins.

There was always something about the moon that brought him a heightened sense of awareness. Its gentle, luminous presence had a way of amplifying his connection to water, as if the tides within him swelled and receded in perfect harmony with the celestial body above. The longer he stood under its glow, the more he could feel his magic stir, stronger and more defined, like a calm current just waiting to be guided.

It was during these moments that Y/N felt most like himself—connected, powerful, but also grounded. The pull of the moon acted like an anchor, steadying him in ways that the chaotic energy of the day never could. There was an unspoken bond between him and the water, one that felt even more profound when the moon was present, as though its light illuminated not only the world around him but also the depths of his own potential.

Now, sitting on the bench near the edge of the courtyard, Y/N felt that same pull from the moon overhead. The familiar hum of his magic stirred within him, quieter now but still present, like the tide waiting to rise. He glanced up at the bright object, a small, wistful smile tugging at his lips. It reminded him of home, of those nights by the lake, and of the man who had always stood by his side.

A soft pang of longing settled in his chest, and he pulled out his phone. After a few taps, he called his dad.

The phone rang a few times before his dad’s gruff but warm voice answered, “Y/N, about time you called. Thought I was gonna have to send a whole squad in after you.”

Y/N chuckled softly, leaning back on the bench. “Sorry, Dad. It’s been crazy since I got here and it’s a lot to take in. Alfea is huge. You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”

His dad’s voice softened with a note of humor. “Let me guess—got lost, tried to play it cool, but couldn’t figure out which building was which?”

Y/N laughed. “Twice. Sam’s shortcuts aren’t exactly... beginner-friendly. Luckily, his sister Terra gave me a proper tour.”

His dad hummed, the sound low and steady, a quiet comfort even from miles away. "Good. I’m glad you’re finding your way," he said, his voice warm but soon shifting to the no-nonsense tone Y/N had grown up with. "Did Miss Dowling go over the curriculum with you? What’s it gonna be like for drills and practices?” His tone sharpened, slipping into that familiar edge of military discipline, a reminder that beneath the caring father was a man who had spent years in service, accustomed to strict routines and rigid expectations.

Y/N leaned back on the bench, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His dad’s voice always carried that familiar weight, even in casual conversations—like there was an invisible checklist in his mind, keeping everything measured and focused. "Yeah, we went over it. The curriculum's solid," Y/N replied, trying to keep things light, though he knew his dad would pick apart every detail. "It’s a lot of basics at first—control exercises, learning how to use magic slowly and safely, all that. They’re big on precision and making sure no one gets ahead of themselves too fast. Miss Dowling made it pretty clear that we’re gonna be challenged, but nothing I can’t handle." He paused for a second, remembering something she’d mentioned in passing about her own military background. “Honestly, I think you’d get along with her. She’s definitely no-nonsense—reminds me of you."

He paused, running his hand through his hair, still feeling the weight of the headmistress’s words from earlier. "I’ll have regular check-ins with her too—y’know, to keep track of how I’m doing. She’s real big on making sure we don’t try to prove something and end up hurting ourselves. So, yeah, lots of discipline, lots of control. But it sounds like I’ll be able to figure it out." His tone was casual, but beneath the surface, he knew it was going to be intense—and his dad would expect nothing less than him excelling at it.

“As they should be,” his dad said, though his tone was a bit lighter than usual. “It’s your first day, but don’t get too comfortable. I’m sure you’ve got a leg up on thosen other slackers with what I’ve already taught you, so make sure you’re putting it to good use. Don’t just go through the motions because it’s new. Take it seriously from the start.”

Y/N nodded, feeling that familiar tug of expectation settle in. “Yeah, I know, Dad. I’m not slacking. Miss Dowling’s big on safety and control, and trust me, she’s not about to let anyone take it easy. She’s got this whole ‘slow but steady’ approach with magic, so I’m sure I’ll get plenty of practice.” He chuckled softly, then added, “Seriously, I think you and Dowling would get along great. She’s got a military background too, so she’s all about discipline.”

His dad hummed approvingly on the other end. “Good. Sounds like you’re in the right hands then. Just make sure you keep your focus and set the tone early. That’s how you get ahead.” Even though it wasn’t a drill-sergeant tone, the message was clear: the groundwork Y/N laid now would shape the rest of his time at Alfea.

Y/N smiled softly, the weight of those words familiar but not suffocating—not yet, anyway. His dad had always pushed him, but there was pride behind it. And while the pressure was always there, it felt less about being perfect and more about becoming something better than he was the day before.

Y/N leaned back on the bench, the cool night air grounding him as he listened to the comforting sound of his dad’s voice on the other end. He glanced up at the moon, its light reflecting off the nearby river. "Actually, I’ve already seen some pretty cool stuff here, magic-wise. My roommate, Sam—he’s an Earth fairy, and get this—he can literally walk through solid objects. Like, I’m talking full-on phase through walls, no big deal." He chuckled, the memory of Sam casually disappearing through their dorm room wall earlier still fresh. "And then there’s the girls who use magic to take selfies. I mean, honestly, not as surprising as you’d think, but still, the Otherworld is wild. It’s different here... and kind of the same, in weird ways."

There was a pause, and Y/N could almost hear his dad raising an eyebrow on the other end. "Sounds like you’re adjusting," his dad remarked, amusement slipping into his tone. "Learning any new tricks yourself? Besides dodging magical selfies, I mean."

Y/N grinned, though the question struck a deeper chord than he wanted to admit. "Not yet," he said, his tone light but laced with something heavier beneath it. "They’re big on control here—real slow and steady. Apparently, it’s all about mastering the basics, making sure we don’t accidentally blow up half the school or anything." He let out a small chuckle, but the humor in his voice felt forced, more like a shield than anything else. "Which, you know... kinda makes sense, considering... well, let’s just say that’s the main reason I’m even here."

There was a beat of silence. Y/N’s words hung in the air, his attempt at joking about it doing little to cover the weight of what he’d left unsaid. The memory of that one night—the water flooding in, his dad’s panic—flashed through his mind like a vivid dream he couldn’t fully wake up from. But instead of letting the pain sink in, he threw up his usual defense—a half-smile, a shrug, and a quick change of subject.

His dad was quiet for a moment, the weight of that shared memory hanging heavy between them. "You’ve come a long way since then, Y/N," he said, his voice softer, more careful. "But I get it. Even when you were a kid, you had this way of diving headfirst into chaos and somehow, just barely, pulling yourself out of it. And yeah, it probably felt easier back then, knowing I was always there to catch you if things went south. That safety net, right? But you're stronger now. You’ve learned to handle it on your own. You don’t need me right next to you to pull you back. You’ve got this under control."

Y/N swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He didn’t want to admit how much he missed the reassurance of having his dad right beside him. "Yeah, I guess. It just feels different now. Like, what if I mess up, and there’s no one around to stop it? What if I hurt someone?" His voice wavered slightly, betraying the insecurities that had been bubbling under the surface since he arrived at Alfea.

"Hey," his dad interrupted, that firm yet comforting tone snapping Y/N out of his spiral. "I know it's new, and it’s scary being out there on your own, but you’ve got this. You’ve got the discipline, the training—you’ve always been able to pull yourself together, no matter what. And even if I’m not there physically, I’m always with you. I’m in your head, telling you to keep your feet grounded, your mind sharp. You’ve got more in you than you think."

Y/N smiled softly, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thanks, Dad. I just... it’s good to hear you say that." There was a long pause, the sound of crickets filling the space between them as the moon continued to rise higher in the sky.

"Good. Now, just to check, you’re not letting any boys distract you from all that hard work, are you?" His dad’s tone took on a teasing edge, a small chuckle filtering through the phone.

Y/N snorted, rolling his eyes even though no one could see him. "Dad, seriously?"

"I mean it! I’ve got to make sure no one’s catching your eye and pulling you off your game. Any eye candy running around there?"

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his dad’s playful concern. "The only boy I’ve heard about that’s worth looking at is this Sky guy. Apparently, he’s the golden boy around here, but from what I’ve heard, that’s a mess I definitely don’t want to get involved in."

"Oh really? Sounds like someone’s been doing their homework." His dad’s voice was light, but Y/N could hear the smirk in it. "So, Sky, huh? What’s the deal there?"

Y/N shrugged, his tone casual. "I dunno, something about his ex-girlfriend, drama, whatever. Definitely not something I’m about to jump into on day one." He chuckled, leaning back again as he looked up at the stars. "Besides, I’ve got enough to deal with just figuring out where all my classes are."

"Smart man," his dad replied with a chuckle, but there was a familiar edge to his tone. "Keep your head on straight. Boys can wait until you're the top water fairy in that school, right? And just so we’re clear," his voice dropped an octave, that serious military dad tone slipping through the humor, "if any of those boys give you trouble... well, you know where to find me. I don’t care how far Alfea is."

Y/N smirked, knowing his dad was half-joking—emphasis on half. "Yeah, I’m not about to test that."

"Still can’t believe my son’s a fairy,” his dad muttered, the teasing tone unmistakable.

“Careful, old man,” Y/N shot back with a grin. “Talk like that, and you’ll end up cancelled.”

A loud scoff echoed through the phone. “Cancelled? Please. Your generation’s full of a bunch of soft pussies. Ain’t no-one canceling me.”

As time passed, their conversation flowed easily, with Y/N filling his dad in on his new dorm, mentioning Terra’s bubbly personality, Sam’s easygoing nature, and a few of the other students he’d come across. His dad listened patiently, offering his usual dry comments or a chuckle here and there. But mostly, he let Y/N ramble on, giving him the space to talk through everything that had been building up inside. It was comforting, like a piece of home grounding him in the unfamiliar world of Alfea.

Y/N leaned back, glancing up at the sky again. The moon had climbed even higher, casting a cool glow that bathed the courtyard in silvery light. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant trickle of the river were the only sounds that filled the space around him now, making the night feel even more serene. It was almost too peaceful, in contrast to the emotions still swirling in his chest.

“I should probably let you go,” Y/N finally said, the reluctance clear in his voice. “I don’t want to keep you up.”

His dad’s tone softened, that rare moment of vulnerability slipping through. “You’re not keeping me up, kid. I’m glad we got to talk. And remember, if anything goes sideways or you need anything, I’m just a call away. You’re not in this alone.”

Y/N swallowed the lump forming in his throat, grateful for the reassurance but wishing he didn’t feel so far away. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll be alright... I miss you though.”

“I miss you too, Y/N. But you’re doing great. You’re where you need to be. Keep your head straight, and don’t let anything distract you from that.”

Y/N smiled softly, the familiar comfort of his dad’s words settling over him like a blanket. “I won’t. Talk to you soon?”

“Always.”

“Cool, love you dad.”

“Love you to, kid.”

With that, they said their goodbyes, Y/N holding onto the phone for a moment longer after the call ended, as if keeping the connection alive just a little longer. The night seemed quieter now, and despite the warmth in his chest from the conversation, there was still a restlessness lingering under his skin.

As Y/N stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket, his attention was drawn to movement in the distance. Two girls were making their way back from the forest toward the school—one with bright ginger hair pulled into a ponytail, the other with braids tied up and still in athletic swimwear. He recognized them from earlier in the day. Their voices were raised, the sharp tone of their argument carrying faintly on the wind, though the exact words were lost to him. Still, the tension between them was palpable, enough to make Y/N pause for a moment, curiosity and some small concern bubbling up inside him.

He watched them for a brief moment, before letting out a sigh, deciding he didn’t even want to know what that was about. Whatever was going on between them, it wasn’t his place. Not tonight. He had enough to process without diving into someone else’s problems.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as the weight of the day settled over him. There was still too much swirling around in his mind, and the emotional pull from talking to his dad hadn’t fully left him. Needing more space to clear his thoughts, he let his magic guide him. The familiar tug in his chest pointed him toward the nearby river, the soft hum of the water beckoning him with its soothing energy.

Y/N took one last glance at the retreating figures before turning in the opposite direction, heading toward the river’s edge. The water called to him, and tonight, he needed that quiet connection more than anything.

“No, you shouldn’t have been out there.”

Bloom’s words, sharp and filled with frustration, echoed as she and Aisha ascended one of the stairways in Alfea’s grand halls. Bloom turned, her body tense, facing Aisha who looked back with an incredulous expression.

“Is that American for ‘sorry I almost set you on fire’?” Aisha shot back, her voice edged with sarcasm. Her arms crossed over her chest as she took a step closer, challenging Bloom's deflection. “You were a runaway train with no idea what you were doing.”

“Which is why I was out there alone—trying to figure it out.” Bloom's tone held the weight of exhaustion as she stormed up the stairs, not wanting to hear another lecture. Her steps were quick and purposeful, as if she could walk away from the guilt building in her chest. Aisha followed closely behind, her eyes narrowing.

“Brilliant idea.” Aisha muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm, though there was an undercurrent of concern she didn’t bother to hide.

Bloom stopped abruptly, turning toward Aisha with a tired expression. She waved her arms out, a gesture of frustration and defeat. “I’m not like the rest of you. I didn’t grow up here. I don’t have fairy parents. I’ve done magic once in my life and it was...” she trailed off, unable to even finish the thought. Her words hung in the air, weighted with emotion.

Aisha, unfazed, raised an eyebrow. “What? Terrible? I’m shocked. I flooded my entire secondary school after I failed a math test. Taps, sprinklers, toilets... Have you ever waded through human poo? I have. Not pleasant. Sometimes being a fairy means you have to deal with shit.”

The hallway they stood in felt quieter now as Bloom sighed and sat on one of the benches nearby. The weight of her confession bore down on her, and her shoulders slumped slightly. Her voice came out quieter this time, less defensive. “So my... mom and I don’t really get along.” There was a small, almost bitter chuckle that followed. “I know. It’s a shocker. I’m not... exactly the ideal daughter for her. She’d love a cheerleader, and I’m whatever the opposite of a cheerleader is.”

Aisha stayed quiet, sensing there was more Bloom wanted to say. And after a moment of silence, Bloom’s eyes darkened with a memory she wished she could forget. She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, her hands clasped tightly together as if holding herself together. She described a vivid memory of her mother instructing her father to remove her bedroom door after a heated argument. The punishment had felt unfair, extreme even, and the anger had built up inside Bloom, festering.

“That night, I… couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the rage just kept building. Then it happened.”

Aisha leaned in, listening intently as Bloom continued. She spoke of the first time she’d tapped into her magic, unknowingly igniting a fire that blazed a trail from her room to her parents' bedroom. “It was almost like the fire had a life of its own... I don’t remember how long I let it burn. I just remember their screams.”

Her voice cracked as she described the scene—the sight of her parents huddled in the corner of their bedroom, her father desperately trying to shield her mother from the flames that engulfed the room. “My mom...was covered in third-degree burns…’cause of me. Every night after that, I… I snuck out. I was so scared I’d hurt them again that I slept in this creepy-ass warehouse near my house. Until Miss Dowling found me.” There was a bitter chuckle mixed with a sniffle, her hands wiping away the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes.

Aisha, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, her voice softer than before. “All right. Fire story beats shit story. You win.”

A faint smile broke through Bloom’s pained expression, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She looked down at her hands, the weight of her past still pressing on her shoulders. Aisha stood and walked toward the ledge that overlooked the canteen below, her expression thoughtful, as though piecing together Bloom’s story in her mind.

“And your parents had no idea it was you?” Aisha’s voice was steady, but there was a hint of disbelief.

Bloom shook her head slowly, the disbelief mirrored in her own voice. “I don’t know how distant my fairy ancestors are, but... the most mystical thing my parents believe in is knocking on wood.”

Aisha was quiet for a moment, her mind turning over the pieces of the puzzle before her. “It’s just... odd,” she began cautiously. “You drew on a great deal of magic without even trying. It’s hard to believe you’re from a dormant bloodline. Is there any chance you’re adopted?”

Bloom chuckled softly, shaking her head. “No. No, I... No, I’ve heard the story of my birth a million times. ‘Miracle baby.’ I had a heart defect in the womb, but a day after I was born, it was gone.”

Aisha’s expression shifted, her eyes widening slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Oh God. You... You’re a changeling.”

“What’s that?” Bloom asked, her confusion deepening. “Aisha, what’s a changeling?”

Aisha slowly sat down next to her, the weight of her words sinking in. “A changeling is a fairy baby that’s switched with a human one at birth.”

“Wait, what?” Bloom's voice cracked slightly, her confusion turning into shock.

“It’s barbaric,” Aisha said quietly. “It barely happens anymore.”

“That’s not possible.” Bloom was adamant, shaking her head.

“You’re clearly very powerful, Bloom,” Aisha pointed out. “You have to be pure-blooded.”

Bloom slowly rose out of her seat, her voice following suit. “I would know if my parents weren’t my parents, Aisha. Why would you even say that?”

“I’m just trying to help,” Aisha replied, her tone cautious, but her intent sincere.

“Well, you’re not.” She stormed off, her footsteps echoing in the hallway as she passed Musa, who had just arrived.

As she passed, Musa approached them, her eyes flicking between the two. “What the hell did you tell her?” she asked, eyeing Aisha with confusion.

“The truth,” Aisha said standing as well as she slowly approached the mind fairy, still staring after Bloom. “Because someone’s been lying to her.”

The dim glow of the evening light filtered through the stained glass windows of Headmistress Dowling's office, casting long, soft shadows across the room. She sat at her desk, a steaming cup of tea in her hands, its gentle aroma filling the quiet space. Her gaze was distant, her thoughts clearly elsewhere as she took a slow, deliberate sip. The warmth of the tea was comforting, but even that couldn't ease the weight pressing on her mind.

After a moment, Dowling set the cup down gently on its saucer, the faint clink barely audible. Her eyes flicked toward the door across the room, sensing a disturbance, though none had entered. With a subtle movement of her hand, the door silently swung shut, closing the space off to the world beyond.

She exhaled quietly, her expression unreadable, before turning her attention to the far side of the room. The ornate bookshelf that lined the wall appeared ordinary to any unsuspecting observer, but as her hand raised slightly, the wood seemed to shift, the books trembling momentarily as the shelf retracted into the wall, revealing a hidden passageway behind it.

Without hesitation, Dowling rose from her chair and moved toward the secret entrance, her steps soundless on the floor. The passage yawned open, dark and shadowed, as she stepped inside, her figure disappearing from view. The bookshelf slid back into place seamlessly, leaving the office as still and untouched as it had been moments before, save for the faint swirl of steam rising from the now-abandoned cup of tea.

The sun disappeared below the horizon, taking its golden, orange, and pinkish-purple hues with it. The moon now sat comfortably in the night sky, casting long shadows across Alfea’s combat arena. The air was thick with the scent of fresh grass and the distant hum of students winding down from their day. In this quiet, secluded part of the academy grounds, only the steady, rhythmic sound of breathing could be heard—evidence of someone deep in training.

Sky had needed to clear his head. After the party and that tense conversation with Stella, he'd come out to the training grounds to blow off some steam. He hadn’t planned on being out here so late, but training was what he knew best—what gave him clarity when everything else felt chaotic.

As Alfea’s newest Specialist Squad Leader and the son of Andreas, Sky was no stranger to pressure. Even in his second year, the expectations placed on him by Silva, his peers, and the legacy of his father were enough to weigh down even the strongest. And now, the added worry of a possible Burned One sighting made the stress all the more suffocating.

He moved with practiced precision through the drills, each strike and parry sharper than the last. But no matter how many times he tried to lose himself in the rhythm, his thoughts circled back to the burdens he carried. The responsibilities of leadership, the looming threat of the Burned Ones, and the unresolved tension with Stella—everything felt heavy, like a weight pressing down on him.

And then there was that fairy.

Sky couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about them kept gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. Maybe it was the way they moved—calm and controlled, but with a kind of unrefined intensity that suggested more power than they even realized. Or maybe it was the way they carried themselves, like they were used to keeping people at arm’s length, though not out of arrogance—more like they were afraid of letting anyone get too close.

It was different from anyone else he’d met. And that look...like they were holding back something deep, something that pulled Sky in even when he should’ve been focused on other things. He’d seen that intensity in their eyes—focused, yet almost searching for something or someone, like a puzzle they were trying to piece together, but couldn’t quite crack.

It was enough to make him pause, to make him wonder if he was reading too much into it. But every time the thought crept in, it wouldn’t leave.

He shook his head, trying to push the feeling away. There was too much going on, too much at stake, to get distracted. But still… his mind kept drifting back, wondering what it was about them that made it so hard to just look away.

Sky paused, sheathing his sword as he took a moment to breathe. His chest rose and fell with the effort, but even the burn in his muscles did little to quiet the storm inside. He sat down on the edge of the raised platform, staring out at the open field, hoping the stillness would help center him.

That’s when he heard it—the faint sound of splashing water, barely distinguishable from the natural hum of the nearby river. It wasn’t much, just enough to make him pause. He stood up, scanning the area, listening intently. The sound of rushing water grew more distinct, and along with it, a faint rustle of leaves. Sky’s instincts kicked in, and his focus sharpened.

Curiosity got the better of him, and Sky followed the sound, moving quietly through the trees that bordered the field. As he approached the riverbank, he noticed muddied footprints cutting through the overgrowth, disappearing into the forest. Someone had been here recently.

He crouched down, inspecting the footprints. They were fresh, still damp, meaning whoever made them hadn’t passed by long before he arrived. A trail led toward the river where the shimmering Barrier of Alfea’s protective force field could be seen in the distance.

Sky knew he should probably report this to Silva or even Headmistress Dowling. It wasn’t a good idea for anyone to be out here alone, especially this close to the Barrier after what had happened in the forest. But something made him hesitate—whether it was a need to prove himself or just an unconscious draw to see what lay ahead, Sky couldn’t say. But whatever it was, he decided to follow the trail himself.

He stepped into the thickening trees, the sounds of the forest growing louder around him—rustling leaves, the distant chirping of insects, and the constant, rhythmic flow of water. The further he went, the more the noise seemed to focus on the river. And as he reached the treeline, stepping into the clearing by the water’s edge, his eyes widened at the sight before him.

Standing near the river was the same water fairy from earlier. Sky recognized him immediately—the way he moved was unmistakable. The fairy’s back was to him, seemingly unaware of Sky’s presence as he practiced his magic, manipulating the water with a grace and precision that was mesmerizing to watch.

Sky’s first instinct was to turn back. They were still within the Barrier, and it wasn’t uncommon for students to seek solitude near the river to practice. Privacy was something Sky valued too, and he understood the need to escape the buzz of Alfea life. But something about the way the water fairy moved held him in place.

There was a seamless blend of power and precision in the way he controlled the water, sending it twisting and spiraling through the air. The fluid motions were almost hypnotic, each arc of water bending and shifting under the fairy’s control before solidifying into sharp, crystalline shapes. A spear, a shield, and then, just as quickly, back to water again.

Sky had always found water magic fascinating, but watching this guy work was something else entirely. There was no hesitation, no faltering. Every movement was deliberate, calculated, with the water responding as if it were an extension of his body. It was clear that he wasn’t just practicing; he was refining combat techniques in a way that was both deadly and beautiful.

Sky found himself captivated, his eyes following every motion, every subtle shift in the fairy’s form. There was a discipline to his movements, a quiet intensity that spoke of years of training. He couldn’t help but admire the control and focus it must have taken to reach this level of mastery. And yet, as much as he was drawn to the magic, he found his attention shifting to the fairy himself.

The water fairy was lean, his athletic frame moving with a dancer-like precision. Sky’s gaze lingered on the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt, the fabric clinging to him as he commanded the water. There was a calmness in the way he stood, a poise that made every movement seem effortless, deliberate.

Sky shook his head slightly, forcing himself to focus. He wasn’t sure why he felt so drawn to this guy—someone he didn’t even know. But the sense of ease and quiet confidence the fairy exuded was hard to ignore.

As he was about to turn back, his boot caught a branch, the snap of wood echoing through the clearing. Sky winced as the sound broke the stillness, and the fairy immediately turned to face him, his cerulean glowing eyes narrowing with a mix of surprise and wariness.

Four ice weapons materialized in the air, hovering around the fairy in a defensive stance, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. The blue glow of his magic shimmered in the moonlight, casting an ethereal glow around him.

Sky froze, his hand instinctively moving toward the hilt of his sword, but something stopped him. Despite the threat of the ice weapons, there was no malice in the fairy’s gaze. Sky felt an odd sense of trust, like the fairy wouldn’t actually harm him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the fairy said, his voice calm and composed. With a flick of his wrist, the ice weapons dissolved back into water, falling harmlessly into the river. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be out here.”

Sky let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his body relaxing slightly as the immediate threat dissipated. He managed a small, reassuring smile. “No, it’s my fault,” he replied, his voice steadying. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just… curious.”

The fairy’s expression softened, though his eyes still held a hint of wariness. “Curious?” he echoed, his tone inviting Sky to explain.

“Yeah, I just—” Sky gestured toward the path he had taken. “I saw footprints leading here and wanted to make sure no one was in trouble, being so close to the Barrier and all. You’re new, right? First year at Alfea?”

The fairy’s expression softened, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, first year—first day, actually. It’s been a lot to take in, especially with all the rumors about that body found in the forest. I mean, it was probably just a random animal attack, right? But people seem really on edge, even with the Barrier in place.” He glanced at the river, his tone shifting. “I just needed a break—get some peace and quiet. The river seemed like a safe spot. Calm, secure, no distractions. A chance to relax and clear my head.”

Sky nodded, understanding the logic. "Makes sense," he agreed, though there was still a flicker of concern behind his casual tone. "But, you know, being out here alone... it’s not exactly safe."

The fairy’s brow furrowed slightly, picking up on the shift in Sky’s demeanor. "What do you mean? It’s probably just a wild animal, right?"

Sky hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “You really don’t know what everyone’s been saying? About the possibility of it being a Burned One?”

Y/N’s confusion deepened, his brow tightening. “A Burned One? No, I’ve... never heard of that.”

Sky’s surprise was evident as he raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you don’t know what Burned Ones are? Aren’t you from the Otherworld?”

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound almost masking the guarded edge in his tone. "No, not at all. I’m from Hawaii."

Sky blinked, processing the unexpected answer. "Hawaii? You’re from the First World?"

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, his grin more cautious now, though still carrying a trace of humor. “I’m guessing not a lot of people from around here know what or where that is. You’d be surprised, but Sam and Terra actually knew about it. Figured most people here wouldn’t, though, considering how secretive everything’s supposed to be.”

Sky’s smile widened at that. “Hawaii, huh?” His mind immediately drew a parallel to earlier that day, when Bloom had told him she was from California. Another First Worlder. He hadn’t realized how many non-magical realm students Alfea attracted, but it was starting to make him wonder how many more were out there, hidden in plain sight.

“Yep,” Y/N confirmed with a nod, though his gaze briefly flickered away, as if there was more he wasn’t ready to dive into. “I’ve known I was magical since I was a kid—my dad helped me figure out how to control it. But, honestly? I had no idea a place like this even existed. When Miss Dowling first told me about it, I thought she was punking me. I was half expecting to end up in some knock-off Hogwarts amusement park, not... well, here.” He chuckled lightly, the humor genuine, but there was a thread of unease woven beneath the words. “Coming here’s been... a pretty big leap.”

Sky could sense that Y/N was holding something back, like there was a part of his story he wasn’t ready to share. But he didn’t press. Instead, he matched Y/N’s energy with an easy chuckle of his own. “Yeah, I can imagine the culture shock. Seems like we’re getting more and more First Worlders these days.”

Y/N’s smile faltered for a brief second, his guard still up, though he quickly recovered. “Yeah... something like that.”

There was an unspoken tension between them—Y/N was giving Sky pieces of his story, but not the whole picture. And Sky, for all his curiosity, could tell that pushing too hard wasn’t the way to go. Not yet.

The fairy gave a slight shrug, his lips twitching into a small, guarded smile. “Anyway, I’ve got enough of a handle on my magic to be able to take care of myself," he replied, his voice steady, though still carrying that subtle edge of uncertainty, like he wasn’t quite convinced. "And from what I’ve heard, that Barrier is supposed to be impenetrable, right? Should be more than enough to keep us safe. I’m not too worried."

Sky raised an eyebrow, his expression somewhere between playful and cautious. “Supposed to be, yeah,” he echoed, the tone light but carrying a hint of skepticism. “But you know, the rumors swirling around aren’t exactly about stray animals. Burned Ones aren’t your average woodland creatures.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and curiosity. “Still don’t really know what those are, but... sure,” he admitted with a shrug, trying to play it off casually, though a hint of unease lingered in his voice.

Sky couldn’t help but smile at the fairy’s self-assuredness. There was something infectious about the way he spoke, a quiet confidence that made it hard to look away. The specialist shifted his stance slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to maintain an air of casualness. His own expression softened as he took in the guy in front of him—something about him drew Sky in, even if he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

“Still,” Sky added, a hint of playfulness creeping into his tone, “it never hurts to have someone around who knows what to expect and knows their way around combat. You know, just in case that Barrier isn’t as foolproof as they say.”

The fairy raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Confident, aren’t we?” he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Let me guess... Specialist, right?”

Sky chuckled, feeling more at ease as the energy between them started to feel less tense and more comfortable, even natural. It felt as if they were simply falling into a rhythm that neither had expected but both were enjoying.

“You got me,” Sky admitted with a grin, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the fading sunlight. “I guess I can’t help but be a little protective.”

“And what makes you think I need protection?” Y/N asked, his eyes narrowing slightly in playful challenge. Then, he paused for a second, as if piecing together the puzzle. His gaze flicked over Sky—blond hair, confident stance, and the slight swagger that came with his title. “Hmm,” Y/N tilted his head, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you’re the golden boy I’ve been hearing so much about. Sky, right?”

Sky blinked, surprised but intrigued. He hadn’t expected to be recognized, especially out here, and he certainly hadn’t anticipated Y/N’s keen observation. “That’s right,” he said, a hint of curiosity in his voice. “What exactly have you been hearing about me?”

Y/N shrugged, his smirk widening just a bit. “Oh, you know, just that you’re Alfea’s newest squad leader, the one everyone seems to look up to. Plus, it’s hard not to notice when your name’s on just about everyone’s lips today.”

Sky chuckled again, though there was a trace of modesty in his response. “Well, I guess my reputation precedes me,” he said with a grin, but his expression turned a bit more serious as he added, “But you might want to rethink the whole ‘no protection needed’ thing. This place has its dangers, even with a Barrier.”

Sky watched the fairy carefully, his curiosity growing with each passing second. There was something about the way Y/N spoke, a quiet confidence, but also a guardedness, that intrigued him. He hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn, but it wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, Sky found himself wanting to know more.

“Maybe,” Y/N said with a casual shrug, though his voice carried a darker edge. “It’s not like I’ve been wandering around without a clue. When it comes to magic… let’s just say I’m probably more of a threat to others—and myself—than anything out here could be to me.” His eyes flickered briefly, a subtle tension beneath the surface. “I can handle myself, and I’m definitely not looking for trouble.”

Sky tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, but the flicker of curiosity in his eyes gave away that he’d picked up on the deeper meaning behind Y/N’s words. “Maybe you’re not looking for trouble,” he said, his tone casual yet pointed, “but that doesn’t mean trouble’s not out there looking for you.”

Y/N huffed softly, amusement flickering in his eyes as he narrowed them in a playful challenge. “And what makes you think I’m the type that needs rescuing?”

Sky’s grin widened, leaning into the teasing banter. “I don’t know… maybe it’s just my hero complex kicking in.”

Y/N let out a light laugh, the sound easy and carefree, a contrast to the tension that had been hanging between them earlier. “Hero complex, huh?” he teased back, his smirk growing. “And here I was told you Specialists were all about strategy and precision.”

Sky chuckled lightly at Y/N's retort, their easy banter creating a surprising warmth between them. But as the playful atmosphere settled, a silence followed. They exchanged a few lingering glances—curious from Sky, and slightly more guarded from Y/N. There was something in the fairy’s expression, a subtle nervousness, that made Sky feel as though Y/N wasn’t used to being watched so intently.

After a moment, Sky cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. “It’s getting late, and we’ve got classes in the morning. Probably best we both head back to the dorms.”

Y/N gave a slight nod, though he couldn’t resist another jab. “You’re really serious about that hero complex, huh?”

Sky grinned, unable to stop himself from playing along. “You’d be surprised how serious I am about it.”

The tension between them dissolved into a more comfortable camaraderie as Sky offered a small gesture toward the direction of the dorms. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

They began their walk back through the forest, the sounds of the river fading behind them, replaced by the quiet rustle of leaves and the distant hum of Alfea. Sky and Y/N moved in step with each other, their conversation light, touching on the campus, the upcoming classes, and the expectations looming over them both. There was a natural flow to their interaction that felt almost... easy.

When they reached the Fairy Hall, Sky hesitated for a moment before flashing Y/N a genuine smile. “Well, here you are. Fairy Hall, safe and sound.”

Y/N chuckled softly, rolling his eyes at Sky’s mock-seriousness. “Guess you weren’t kidding about that hero complex.”

With a final grin, Sky offered a casual wave before turning to head toward the Specialist Hall. “See you around, first-year.”

Y/N watched him disappear into the distance before turning to make his way inside. But as he took a step forward, something caught his eye—a figure slipping out from the shadows near the edge of the courtyard. He paused, narrowing his gaze, trying to make out the person’s features.

It was a girl, the same one he saw earlier walking back with that swimmer looking girl towards the school when they were seemingly arguing. She was still wearing the same clothes, her ginger hair pulled into a ponytail, and she was walking away from the halls, heading toward the forest.

She wasn’t far enough yet that Y/N couldn’t spot the nervous twitch in her hands, like she was fidgeting with something. As she stepped into the moonlight, something golden caught his eye—small, shiny, like some type of jewelry that was faintly glowing with a trace of magic.

Y/N felt a twinge of unease. He didn’t know why, but something about the way she moved, the way her fingers fidgeted with the golden object, tugged at his instincts. He stood there for a moment, battling in his mind with what to do.

Clearly, she wasn’t heading for the dorms. Something in Y/N’s gut twisted, a nagging instinct that screamed at him to follow her, while his brain—not to be outdone—was urging him to run straight to Miss Dowling and let her handle it. There was the smart choice, and then there was… well, the choice Y/N usually made.

Naturally, he didn’t choose smart.

With a quiet huff, he slipped after her, his footsteps light as he shadowed her path towards the trees. His curiosity—and maybe a touch of concern—grew with every step. She was heading toward the Barrier. Toward the forest. And for reasons he couldn’t fully explain, that only made the gnawing feeling in his gut tighten. Quickening his pace, he stayed far enough back to not alert her, but close enough to see what she was up to. Because apparently, tonight, he was committed to bad decisions.

Aisha and Musa entered the Winx suite, their footsteps quiet as the tension between them grew. Stella was sprawled on the couch, taking selfies, the glow from her magical light casting her face in soft, flattering shadows.

"She's blanking my texts," Aisha said, her frustration laced with a hint of worry.

Musa’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp with sarcasm as she glanced at Stella. "Strange. I wonder if it's because she poured her heart out to you and you called her a freak?"

Her comment hung in the air, heavy with accusation, but Stella remained unmoved, still engrossed in her phone. Aisha’s lips tightened as she tried to keep her cool.

"Have you seen Bloom?" Aisha asked, directing her question to Stella.

"Not recently," Stella replied dismissively, barely sparing Aisha a glance as she focused on her screen.

Musa wasn’t convinced. Her gaze intensified, the light in her irises turning a faint purple glow as her expression darkened with suspicion. Stella, sensing Musa’s scrutiny, snapped her fingers, dispelling the magical light she had been using for her selfies. She finally looked up, defensive and annoyed.

"Yes?" Stella’s voice held a challenging edge.

"Your face looks so calm, yet you're racked with guilt," Musa said, her eyes never leaving Stella.

"You're a mind fairy," Aisha added, her voice taking on a sharper tone.

Before the tension could deepen, Terra stepped into the room, oblivious to the building atmosphere. She glanced between them, catching the subtle hostility in the air.

"A mind fairy? What's your connection? Memory, thoughts—" Terra started, her curiosity piqued.

"Not a great time," Musa interrupted, cutting her off.

Terra frowned, sensing something off. "Is everything OK?"

Stella’s fingers danced across her phone, ignoring the mounting tension.

"Not really," Aisha said, her frustration seeping through. "I'm looking for Bloom. For some reason, Stella's feeling guilty about it."

At that, Stella’s eyes flicked up, her annoyance flashing before she masked it with indifference. She rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Could everyone save the drama for drama club?" Stella quipped.

Terra wasn’t having it. "Wasn't she talking to Sky?" she asked, her tone firm.

"And?" Stella replied, a coy smile tugging at her lips.

"And I know what happened to the last person who was 'talking to Sky.' I was here last year, remember," Terra said, her voice rising slightly, as if placing air quotes around the words.

Stella scoffed in response, turning back to her phone with a petulant smile, clearly dismissing the concern.

"Stella, where's Bloom?" Terra’s expression hardened, her tone leaving no room for games.

Stella glanced up through her lashes, realizing she had no way out. There was no escaping the questions now. Sighing, she dropped her phone into her lap, her face reflecting both guilt and defiance.

"She was feeling homesick, so I did a nice thing and I lent her my ring so that she could go back to the First World," Stella admitted, though her tone carried an air of justification, as if she hadn’t done anything wrong.

As they spoke, deep in the forest, far beyond the Barrier protecting Alfea, Bloom hurried through the dense trees, her steps quick and purposeful. The moonlight barely filtered through the canopy, casting a ghostly pallor over the cemetery ahead of her. The air was thick with moisture, the weight of the night pressing down on her as she neared an ancient mausoleum covered in vines and decay.

"Doesn't it only work outside the Barrier?" Terra asked, concern clear in her voice.

"Yes, and there's a gateway in the old cemetery," Stella replied, still acting as if this was all completely normal.

Bloom paused before the weathered stone structure, glancing over her shoulder to ensure she was alone. Behind her, Y/N kept his distance, careful not to be noticed. His instincts were on high alert, something in his gut screaming that whatever she was about to do, he needed to be there.

With a shaky breath, Bloom reached out and pressed her hand—Stella’s ring shimmering in the moonlight—against the cold stone of the mausoleum’s door. A soft glow pulsed from the ring, spreading out like liquid gold until it covered the entire surface. The door creaked open with a slow groan, revealing the darkness inside. Y/N held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched her disappear inside.

"That's deep in the forest, Stella," Terra pressed, her voice taking on a more serious, worried tone. “You know what’s out there, right?”

Inside the mausoleum, Bloom found herself stepping into what looked like an old, abandoned warehouse—the same one where she’d hidden before Miss Dowling had discovered her. The air was thick with dust, carrying the stale scent of decay and neglect. Every corner felt eerily still, the kind of quiet that pressed down on you, almost suffocating in its heaviness. She glanced around briefly, memories flickering at the edges of her mind, before making her way to the main door. When she stepped outside, the familiar warmth of the California air washed over her, a stark contrast to the cold atmosphere inside.

Unnoticed, Y/N slipped into the warehouse behind her. His eyes swept over the unfamiliar space, the faint tension in the air alerting him to how far they’d ventured. It wasn’t until he followed her through the main door and felt the warm breeze on his skin that he realized, with a sharp pang of surprise, that they weren’t in the Otherworld anymore. This was somewhere else entirely.

Judging by the scenery—the dry hills, the faint scent of salt in the air—Y/N guessed they were somewhere on the West Coast. Probably California. But he didn’t have time to play detective because, despite growing up with a military dad who drilled him in endurance, Bloom was already a good half-mile down the road. He huffed, picking up his pace with a ragged breath escaping from at his lips. Seriously, how was she outpacing him like this?

As Y/N rushed to catch up with her, his mind raced just as fast as his legs. This clearly wasn’t just a casual stroll—she had a destination, and whatever it was, it must have been important with the way she was moving.

Back at the Winx suite, the tension in the air thickened. Just as Terra was about to ask Stella another question, a knock sounded on the door, sharp and urgent. Terra called out, “Come in!” The door creaked open, revealing Sam standing there, looking unusually anxious. His eyes darted around the room, his usual calm demeanor noticeably shaken.

“Terra, have you seen Y/N?” Sam asked, his voice tinged with worry. “He hasn’t come back to our dorm, and I’ve been looking for him everywhere.”

Terra frowned, exchanging concerned glances with Aisha and Musa. “No, I haven’t seen him since the party,” she said slowly. “He said he was going outside to call his dad.”

Sam’s jaw clenched, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “He’s not answering his phone either. I’ve checked every spot I showed him today and even more but I can’t find him anywhere. He’s just... gone.”

Musa, who had been quietly observing the exchange, tilted her head slightly, her sharp gaze flicking to Sam. For a brief moment, something flickered in her expression—interest, curiosity—but the weight of the situation kept her silent.

“I’m sorry, but who is Y/N?” Aisha interjected, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Sam glanced at her, then sighed, running a hand through his dark-brown hair again. “Y/N’s a first-year fairy, from the First World. Miss Dowling assigned me to mentor and guide him since he’s still getting used to everything here and we’re rooming together. He’s from the First World, Hawaii I think, and he said he’s known about his magic for awhile, but the Otherworld is completely new and—well, kind of a shock for him. But he’s smart. Quick learner.”

Before Sam could continue, Terra spoke up, her tone reflecting her growing concern, “The last time I saw him was at the party. He never came back though. I thought maybe he just needed some air, but if he hasn’t come back, I don’t know where he might have gone.”

Aisha nodded, absorbing the information while Terra’s frown deepened. “So, we’ve got a homesick Bloom who’s probably wandering around somewhere in the First World, hopefully not setting things on fire, and a first-year fairy also from the First World who’s gone missing as well? Perfect.”

Terra’s concern deepened. “I don’t believe Y/N would just go off somewhere without telling someone.”

Stella, who had also been silent as she sat in her guilt, put down her phone again, raising an eyebrow. “Missing? You sure he didn’t just... take a walk to be alone or something?”

Sam shook his head, clearly unsettled. “He’d at least tell me where he was going if he was. I’m telling you, something’s wrong. But, what’s this about your suitemate missing somewhere in the FIrst World to?”

Aisha and Musa exchanged a brief, uneasy glance before Aisha cleared her throat. “It’s... kind of a long story,” she started, her gaze flicking toward Stella, her words slow and deliberate. “But Bloom was feeling homesick. I think she wanted to go home to see her parents.”

Sam frowned, crossing his arms as he took in the information, but it was clear he wasn’t getting the full picture. “And how exactly did she manage to do that? Isn’t the Barrier supposed to prevent anyone from leaving like that?”

Musa’s eyes landed on Stella, her expression unyielding. “She had a little help,” she said pointedly, causing Stella to shift uncomfortably on the couch.

Sam’s eyes darkened, clearly picking up on the accusatory tone in the room. “Help from who?” he asked, his voice growing more intense.

Aisha sighed, still clearly upset but staying as calm as possible. “Stella lent Bloom her gateway ring, so she could go back to the First World.”

Sam’s expression hardened, his jaw clenched. “She’s beyond the Barrier? Alone?” His voice was laced with disbelief, mixed with a rising tide of anger. His eyes darted between the girls before settling back on Stella. “Do you even realize how dangerous that is?”

Stella opened her mouth to respond but closed it again, not entirely sure what to say in her defense. Her face reflected a mix of guilt and frustration, but Sam wasn’t waiting for an answer. He was already pacing, his thoughts spiraling.

Aisha, seeing the worry etched on Sam’s face, quickly put together the pieces. “Wait,” she said, her voice becoming more thoughtful. “Bloom and Y/N… they’re both from the First World, right?”

Sam stopped mid-pace, his eyes snapping toward Aisha. “Yeah, they are. Why?”

“It just seems like more than a coincidence, don’t you think?” Aisha said, her brows furrowing. “They’re both from the First World, both entirely new to the Otherworld, both personally assigned mentors by Miss Dowling... and now they’re both missing.”

Musa leaned against the wall, her arms crossed as she considered Aisha’s words. “You’re right. It feels off. Too much of a coincidence for my taste.”

Sam’s concern deepened, his frustration palpable as he clenched his fists at his sides. “And now they’re both out there, somewhere, probably with no idea of the danger they’re walking into.”

Stella, clearly uncomfortable with the weight of the situation she had unintentionally caused, looked down at her hands, the guilt catching up to her. She wasn’t used to feeling this much responsibility, and it was starting to weigh on her more than she let on.

Aisha continued, her voice growing more urgent as she pieced it together. “Could it be possible Y/N might’ve followed Bloom, especially if he noticed something was off? They could both be in the First World right now, but neither of them have a way to get back.”

Sam nodded, his expression tight with concern. “It’s definitely possible,” he said, the tension in his voice unmistakable. “Y/N gives off that selfless, 'help others first' vibe. He’s the type of guy who’d follow someone if he thought they were in trouble, even if he didn’t know them well. I mean, we’ve only spent one day together, but I could already tell—given what’s he’s shared with me about where he grew up and his dad. If he thought Bloom was in trouble, no way he’d just let her go off alone.”

Aisha nodded firmly. “Then, we need to get ahead of this before it gets worse. We’ll have to tell Miss Dowling, let her know what’s going on. They’re not just two students wandering off—they’re basically fresh prey for whatever is out there beyond the Barrier.”

Sam, his frustration now mixing with fear, glared at Stella. “You had better hope nothing happens to them. This is more than just playing with magic.”

Stella, for once, had nothing to say. She looked away, her face stiff with the realization of what she had set into motion.

Y/N hurried to catch up to Bloom, his steps light but determined. His breath was shallow as he finally spotted her, standing at the corner of a white picket fence, her figure bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. She was motionless, her gaze fixed through a large dining room window. Y/N followed her line of sight, his heart clenching when he saw a couple inside—a man and a woman seated at the dinner table. He didn’t need to guess who they were. He already knew: her parents.

She was talking to them, but not directly. Instead, she held her phone close to her ear, her voice trembling as she spoke.

"Um... What if I... What if I... like, made a mistake?" Bloom's voice was faint, just above a whisper, but Y/N could hear the weight of her words as if they carried the burden of years of doubt.

Even though the phone wasn't on speaker, the soft, distant voices of her parents carried to Y/N's ears. The words were unclear at times, but the emotions behind them—concern, love, reassurance—were unmistakable.

"You're too special for here," her mother’s voice, faint but firm, echoed through the phone. "It's not who you are."

"What if you don't know who I am?" Bloom's voice cracked, her vulnerability clear in the way she clutched the phone tighter, her other hand trembling by her side.

Y/N, from his place of hiding, felt his own chest tighten. He knew this feeling. The uncertainty. The loneliness of being misunderstood by the people who were supposed to know you best. He wanted to look away, to stop intruding on this private moment, but something rooted him to the spot. Everything she said mirrored his own struggles with his father—always trying to live up to expectations, always feeling like he had to hide parts of himself.

Inside the house, Bloom’s mother rubbed her arms absentmindedly, and Y/N caught a glimpse of red marks, faint but unmistakable, like burns. He put two and two together, watching as Bloom’s expression faltered—guilt flooding her features. Whatever had happened, Y/N could feel the heaviness of it through his magic, and he knew, somehow, that it had been her doing.

"No, you're right. Alfea's where I belong now," Bloom said, her voice barely holding it together.

"Bloom, listen to me," her mother continued, her tone softer now. "Whatever you're going through, I know it sucks, but I also know you can handle it. I always knew your path wouldn't be like everyone else's."

Y/N’s breath hitched as Bloom let out a teary chuckle, fighting to keep herself together.

"Not like mine or your father's. That's hard. But at the end of it, I can't wait to see who you become."

Her father's voice chimed in then, warm and supportive. "We love you, Bloom."

Through sniffles and quiet sobs, Bloom replied, "I love you too."

The call ended, leaving a hollow silence in the air. Bloom stood there, her shoulders trembling as soft sobs escaped her. Y/N’s heart clenched painfully. He knew this moment wasn’t for him, wasn’t meant for anyone else. Slowly, he took a step back, ready to retreat and give her the privacy she so desperately needed. But as he turned, his foot made a faint sound against the gravel, and Bloom whipped around, her tear-streaked face locking onto him.

The call ended, leaving a hollow silence in the air. Bloom stood there, her shoulders trembling as soft sobs escaped her. Y/N’s heart clenched painfully. He knew this moment wasn’t for him, wasn’t meant for anyone else. Slowly, he stepped back, retreating into the shadows. The weight of her sorrow hung heavy in the air, pulling at him, but he knew she needed this moment alone. He needed to give her space, just like he had craved so many times himself.

He moved quietly, making sure his steps were soundless against the gravel. His pulse echoed in his ears as he carefully distanced himself from the corner of the fence, slipping further into the darkness of the street. With every step he took away from Bloom, the cool night air seemed to grow thicker, almost pressing down on him with the weight of everything he had just witnessed.

But still, he kept moving, his eyes never leaving her until the distance between them was enough to cloak him in the safety of anonymity. He let out a quiet breath, turning back towards the direction of the warehouse. His mind raced with thoughts and emotions, unsure of what exactly he had just seen but knowing, deep down, that it resonated with him in ways he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge.

Y/N made his way back to the warehouse, the chill of the night air doing little to calm the whirlwind of thoughts running through his mind. His feet felt heavy, as though they carried the weight of everything he had just witnessed. Bloom’s words still echoed in his head, the vulnerability in her voice striking a chord deep within him. It was a moment he hadn’t expected to stumble upon, and it left him feeling raw, exposed in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

As he reached the entrance of the warehouse, the shadows inside seemed deeper than before, the quiet of the space pressing in on him. Y/N took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around, trying to piece together what his next move would be. The golden shimmer from Stella’s ring earlier had disappeared, and now the doorway to the Otherworld was sealed shut.

"Great," he muttered under his breath, glancing at the door. "No way back. Now what?"

The silence of the warehouse felt oppressive, like it was swallowing him whole. He walked deeper into the space, his eyes scanning the empty room as he tried to figure out how Bloom had opened the passage in the first place. His fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the doorframe where the gateway had once shimmered. There had to be something, some way to open it again.

But nothing happened. No golden light. No subtle hum of magic.

Y/N cursed under his breath, frustration bubbling to the surface. He felt stuck—both literally and figuratively. Trapped between two worlds and unsure of where he really belonged in either of them. He pressed his back against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the cold, hard floor. His head fell back against the brick, his eyes closing as he let out a long, tired sigh.

Y/N didn’t have time to rest, though. Just as he settled down, trying to figure out how to get back to the Otherworld, he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps. His eyes snapped open, heart pounding. Oh, shit. Was it Bloom? Or worse… someone from this world who wasn’t supposed to know about magic?

The door creaked open, and in walked Bloom, her expression a wild mix of confusion, suspicion, and the look of someone who was two bad decisions away from a breakdown as she immediately spotted him considering he was sitting in the most obvious space.

Y/N froze, like a deer caught in headlights, his mind going into full panic mode. Oh double shit.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked, her voice sharp but laced with exhaustion, as if she didn’t have the energy to be fully angry yet.

Y/N pushed himself to his feet, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "I can explain," he started, though he wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to explain any of this. He knew how it looked—him lurking around in the shadows after following her all the way from Alfea.

Her eyes locked onto him like laser beams, the glare making him feel as though he’d just been caught red-handed stealing cookies from a grandma’s cookie jar.

"Who the hell are you?" Bloom demanded, her voice sharp but tired, like she just didn’t have the energy to deal with whatever circus this was about to become.

Y/N scrambled to his feet, hands shooting up in the universal gesture of ‘Please don’t murder me.’ "I can explain!" he blurted, though let’s be real—he had no explanation. None. He looked around frantically, as if the walls might suddenly provide some magical excuse for why he was creeping around like a weirdo.

Bloom crossed her arms, her eyebrow raised to the ceiling as she stepped closer, inspecting him like he was some deranged squirrel that had wandered into her personal space. "You’ve got about ten seconds before I call the cops," she warned, her patience thinner than a thread holding up a bad decision.

“Uh, uh... okay!” Y/N stammered, trying not to look like the world’s worst stalker. “So, funny story, really—uh, you see, I, um...” He took a deep breath, his eyes darting around the room as his brain short-circuited. “...I’m not a serial killer!”

Bloom’s arms tightened, not amused in the slightest.

“No, wait! That came out wrong,” Y/N flailed, realizing how insane he must’ve sounded. “Look, I’m a student at Alfea—like, for real! I swear! First-year! Magic! Totally not creepy!” He motioned wildly to his face like that somehow made him look more trustworthy. “I just... saw you leave and thought you might need help? Maybe?”

Bloom’s glare didn’t waver. "So your bright idea was to follow me... to another world... in the middle of the night... alone?"

Y/N blinked, taking a step back. “Okay, in hindsight I can see how that may not have been the most reasonable decision on my part. But I swear, I had good intentions!”

Bloom rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was done with life. “Wow, congratulations. You’re not a serial killer. Gold star for you.”

Y/N took a deep breath, his posture softening as he realized his flailing explanations weren’t getting him anywhere. Time to try another approach. Something less chaotic and maybe a little more… honest.

“Look,” he said, dropping his hands and glancing away, his voice quieter now, more serious. “I know how this looks. Trust me, I get it. But I’m not here to cause trouble. I just—” He hesitated, searching for the right words, something that wouldn’t make him sound like an idiot or, worse, a stalker. “I overheard a little bit of what you were going through... back there with your parents.”

Bloom’s defensive stance didn’t drop, but her eyes flickered with surprise. He pressed on, knowing he had to tread carefully.

“I didn’t mean to listen,” he continued, his tone softer. “I really didn’t. I just... well, I could relate to what you were saying.” He swallowed, feeling that familiar knot in his stomach tighten. “I’ve gone through something similar with my dad.”

Bloom’s expression shifted slightly, a tiny crack in her hard exterior, though she still didn’t move. Y/N took it as a sign to keep going.

“I think we’ve got more in common than you realize,” Y/N began, his voice softer now, stepping forward just a little. “You and me… We’ve both grown up with this, haven’t we? Magic.” He paused, studying her face as she absorbed his words. “The only difference is, I’ve known about mine since I was a kid. I’m guessing you just discovered yours.”

Bloom’s eyes flickered, but she didn’t respond, her guard still up.

“In all that time,” Y/N continued, “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. More than I can count, honestly. And I’m guessing you’ve made some too, right? It’s kind of impossible not to, with magic like this.” He looked down briefly, running a hand through his hair, remembering the weight of his own guilt. “I saw the burns on your mom’s arms,” he said gently. “And, trust me, I get it. That guilt? That feeling like everything you touch breaks, or worse? I’ve been there.”

Bloom’s expression wavered, something flickering in her eyes as she listened.

“I’ve screwed up a lot, uh... Bloom, right?” Y/N said, his voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and regret. “I froze an entire military base, in Hawaii of all places. You can imagine how easy it was trying to explain that to people. I even almost drowned my dad, who acts like he’s fine, but I can still see him get tense when I’m near large sources of water. I’ve hurt people. People I care about. And it makes you feel like... like you’re dangerous. Like you can’t trust yourself anymore.”

Bloom’s posture softened, her arms loosening as she shifted her weight. For a moment, her expression flickered between exhaustion and curiosity, like she wasn’t sure whether to keep her guard up or let it drop.

“You almost drowned your dad?” she asked quietly, her voice losing some of its earlier edge. There was a strange mix of disbelief and understanding in her tone, like she was processing the idea of someone else living through a situation so close to her own.

Y/N let out a breath, relieved that she hadn’t immediately told him to get lost. “Yeah. I mean, it was an accident, obviously. But... that doesn’t really make it any easier, you know? The people who care about you say they’re fine, but deep down, you can see the way they look at you differently. Like they’re afraid.”

Bloom’s eyes flickered with recognition, and for the first time since their strange, chaotic encounter, she looked at him like he might actually understand what she was going through. She hugged her arms closer to her body, glancing toward the back of the warehouse.

After a beat of silence, she nodded toward one of the side rooms. "Come on. I’ve got a room set up through there. It’s probably better to stay here for now then risk walking back throught the forest. We can figure out the rest in the morning."

Y/N nodded, grateful for the chance before following her, the two of them moving toward the backroms with the grimy windows, likely spaces utlitzed as office rooms in the warehouse. The room was sparse—an old mattress, a few blankets, and some personal belongings scattered around. It wasn’t much, but it was clear this had been her sanctuary for a while, a place to escape from everything.

Bloom sat down on the edge of the mattress, letting out a long sigh. Y/N hovered near the doorway, still a little unsure of where he stood in all this, but feeling that at least the immediate threat of being kicked out had passed.

The room was quiet, the kind of stillness that made Y/N’s skin prickle with unease. He watched as Bloom settled on the edge of the mattress, her hands resting limply in her lap. She hadn’t fully relaxed, though. Her shoulders were still tense, her eyes darting around the sparse space as if she were expecting something—maybe trouble, maybe just more bad news. Y/N shifted uncomfortably, staying near the doorway as if keeping his distance would somehow make this situation less awkward.

For a few long moments, neither of them spoke. The tension hung in the air like a thick fog, both of them sitting with their own thoughts. The silence wasn’t necessarily hostile, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was like they were both waiting for the other to make a move, to break whatever this strange, shared moment had become.

Bloom kept her eyes downcast, staring at the floor in front of her. Y/N wasn’t sure if she was processing everything or just trying to avoid any more conversation, but he figured it was best to give her some space. His mind was racing with everything they had both just confessed. He wasn’t sure what to say next, afraid to say the wrong thing and make it worse.

After what felt like an eternity, Bloom finally broke the silence, her voice low but not as sharp as before. “So... how’d you end up in the Otherworld?” she asked, glancing up at him, her expression curious but guarded.

Y/N blinked, a little caught off guard by the sudden question. He stepped further into the room, leaning against the wall as he thought about how to answer. “It’s kind of a long story,” he said with a dry chuckle, trying to ease the tension.

Bloom raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that clearly said, I’ve got time.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve known I was magical since I was a kid,” he began, his voice quieter now, more reflective. “My dad—he’s not magical, but we found out about my powers early on and he helped me keep them a secret. Tried to help me learn how to control them. But... well, things didn’t always go smoothly.”

Y/N chuckled bitterly, his gaze dropping to his hands as if the weight of his memories pressed down on him. “I did well for the most part, but... there were always these little moments when I lost it,” he started, his voice softening, laden with regret. “We pretty much figured out early on that my magic was influenced by my emotions, but we didn’t realize how much—how intense it could get.”

He paused, taking a shaky breath, the memories clearly weighing on him. His fingers twitched as he remembered that day. “One day, I found out my dad was getting deployed overseas for something really dangerous. And I just... I lost it. I mean, what’s a 16-year-old kid with magic he barely knows how to control supposed to do? Stop the government from sending his dad into a war zone?" Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, the bitterness in his tone deepening. "I couldn’t calm down. No matter how hard I tried, the anger and frustration just kept building, and I couldn’t control it. Next thing anybody knew, every pipe, faucet, and drain on the base started spitting out more water than they probably even held.” He swallowed hard, his shoulders slumping as he relived the chaos he had caused.

Across from him, Bloom remained silent, her expression softening with empathy. She knew all too well the feeling of emotions spiraling out of control, of your magic becoming something terrifying when you needed it to stop the most.

Y/N’s eyes were distant, as if he was back in that room, reliving every moment. “That wasn’t even the worst of it,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “When my dad realized what was happening, he tried to calm me down, like he always did. But I was so upset—at the situation, at myself for what I was doing—that I couldn’t get a grip on anything, least of all my magic.” His voice wavered slightly, a tremble beneath his words.

Bloom’s heart clenched as she listened, knowing that feeling of panic, that moment when everything slips through your fingers no matter how much you want it to stop. She watched him closely, seeing the guilt etched into every line of his face.

Y/N’s gaze flickered to Bloom’s for just a second before he looked away again, his voice quieter now. “The room we were in filled up with water faster than either of us could react. It didn’t affect me—my magic just doesn’t, I guess—but it affected him.” His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard. “He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get out. I was drowning my dad, and I couldn’t stop.”

For a moment, the silence between them was palpable, the weight of Y/N’s words hanging heavy in the air. Bloom could feel the knot forming in her own chest, the suffocating pressure of guilt that Y/N clearly carried with him. She had felt it herself, every time she thought of her mom’s burns, every time she thought of what her fire had done.

“I got a grip—barely—and stopped the water before it was too late,” Y/N continued, his voice strained. “But after that... things between me and my dad were never the same. It wasn’t his fault, really. He didn’t blame me, but I could see it in his eyes—he didn’t trust me anymore. And honestly? I didn’t trust myself.”

Y/N ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath as he leaned back against the wall. “That’s when Miss Dowling showed up. My dad knew I couldn’t stay at the base—it was too risky. People were paranoid, on edge, waiting for something else to go wrong. I mean, the base in Hawaii nearly froze over like it had been hit by a winter storm straight out of Michigan. One more slip-up, one more incident, and people would start connecting the dots. If they figured out I was the one behind it all… my life would've been turned completely upside down.” He let out a small, humorless laugh, glancing up to meet Bloom’s gaze. “I didn’t exactly fit into the normal world. And it wasn’t like I had a guidebook for being... whatever this is. Alfea became my only choice.”

His voice trailed off, leaving the room in a thick, heavy silence. For a moment, neither of them spoke, both lost in their own thoughts.

Bloom shifted slightly, her arms wrapped around her knees as she looked at him with understanding in her eyes. “I know what that’s like,” she said quietly, her voice soft but steady. “Hurting people you care about because you can’t control it. That guilt... it doesn’t really go away, does it?”

Y/N’s eyes met hers, and for the first time, he saw that she wasn’t just listening—she understood. Truly. It was like she could feel every ounce of his pain because she had carried it herself.

Bloom’s gaze softened further, her voice carrying a fragile weight. “My mom... those burns... I didn’t mean to hurt her, but I did. And I can’t ever take that back.” She swallowed, her voice wavering just slightly. “It’s not just the guilt—it’s the fear. That constant feeling like you might hurt someone again if you’re not careful.”

Y/N nodded, the weight of Bloom's confession settling between them like a thick, shared burden. He could feel the truth of her words, the way they echoed his own experience. It wasn't just about losing control—it was the fact that, unlike everyone else around them, they didn’t grow up in a world that understood magic. The other students at Alfea, as reckless as some of them were, had grown up with people who knew what magic was, people who could teach them how to control it, guide them, and, more importantly, who could understand and forgive their mistakes because they had made those same mistakes themselves. They had families who knew the risks, mentors who had lived through it all, seen the dangers firsthand. The Otherworld wasn’t new or strange to them—it was home.

But for Bloom and Y/N, it was different. Magic had blindsided their lives. Y/N’s dad didn’t know what to do when his son froze an entire base or nearly drowned him. He barely understood the power his son carried, and once he saw just a fraction of it, the fear in his eyes was enough to change everything between them. It wasn’t the kind of fear that came from misunderstanding—it was the fear of seeing something dangerous in someone you love and realizing you have no idea how to protect them or yourself from it. The same fear that Y/N could see in Bloom's eyes when she talked about her mom’s burns. That kind of shift in perspective cut deeper than any physical wound, because it wasn’t just about fear—it was about losing the trust of the people who mattered most, and knowing that no matter what you did, that trust might never come back.

Y/N shifted slightly, the silence between them heavy but not uncomfortable. He glanced over at Bloom, her eyes downcast as she wrapped her arms tighter around her knees. She looked smaller than before, like the weight of her own story had pressed her into herself. His gaze softened, and after a moment, he broke the silence.

“So... what about you?” Y/N asked quietly, his voice low and steady. “I think I put together bits and pieces, but... what’s your story?”

Bloom glanced up at him, her eyes searching his for a second as if weighing whether or not to trust him. She sighed, running a hand through her fiery hair, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly, though her guard wasn’t completely down.

“There's not much to tell,” Bloom began, her voice softer now, a little less guarded. “I grew up in California. Suburbs, you know? My parents are... well, they’re great. Normal. Loving. But they don’t know anything about magic. I didn’t even know until a few months ago.”

Y/N listened quietly, noticing the way her voice wavered just a bit. He didn’t push her—he knew better than anyone how hard it was to relive those moments. Bloom’s eyes remained fixed on the floor, like she was trying to make sense of her own words before speaking them aloud.

Bloom shifted slightly on the mattress, her fingers fidgeting with a stray thread from the blanket. "It started with a fight," she continued, her voice soft but steady. "My mom and I... we don’t really see eye to eye. She’s always been the type who had this image of what her perfect daughter should be—cheerleader, top of her class, the whole thing. And I’m just... not that." Bloom gave a small, bitter laugh, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe it herself.

Y/N stayed silent, sensing there was more to the story.

"One night, things got really bad between us. I was furious, and I couldn’t calm down." She paused, her hands tightening around the edge of the blanket. "And that’s when it happened. The fire... it just started. It was like everything I was feeling inside was too much, and it just—"

She broke off, swallowing hard, her eyes glossing over with unshed tears. "I didn’t mean to... but the fire spread to their room. My mom... she got burned, really badly." Bloom’s voice trembled with guilt, and she quickly wiped at her eyes, trying to push the tears away. "I could hear them screaming. I wanted to stop it, but I didn’t know how."

The weight of her words hung in the air, thick with the shared understanding between them. Y/N’s heart ached in his chest as he watched her struggle with the memory. He knew that kind of guilt—the kind that stuck with you, that didn’t go away no matter how much time passed.

"They don’t even know it was me," Bloom whispered, her voice barely audible now. "They don’t know what I am... what I did." She finally looked up at Y/N, her eyes filled with a pain that mirrored his own. "I slept in this warehouse for weeks after that. I was terrified I’d hurt them again, that I couldn’t control it. I’d sneak out at night and stay here until... Miss Dowling found me."

Y/N’s brow furrowed as he listened, his heart heavy with the weight of her words. He knew exactly what she meant—the fear, the uncertainty, the crushing realization that no matter how hard you tried, your magic always seemed to have a mind of its own.

“I get it,” he said, his voice sincere. “It’s terrifying. Not knowing when or how it’ll come out again... but also knowing it’s there, waiting.”

Bloom nodded, her gaze distant, lost in thought. “It’s why I came back here tonight. I thought maybe seeing my parents... maybe being here again would help me figure it out. But I don’t belong here anymore, and I don’t know if I ever did.”

Y/N, still leaning against the wall, raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Wait, how did you even get here? I mean... it’s not like there’s a direct flight between the Otherworld and California.”

Bloom blinked, coming back to the moment. “Oh, right... Stella,” she said, her tone holding a hint of reluctance. “She gave me her gateway ring. It opens a portal back to the First World.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait—she just handed it over?”

“Well, not exactly,” Bloom muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. “It was more like I was desperate, and Stella... she understood that. So, yeah, she lent it to me. Honestly, I think it was more of a ‘get out of her hair’ type of thing.” She shrugged, but Y/N could hear the gratitude in her voice, buried beneath the layers of frustration.

Y/N let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “A gateway ring... That explains a lot.” He glanced at her, studying her face for a moment before speaking again. “But you don’t think you belong here? You really think that?”

Bloom hesitated, her gaze falling to her hands. “I don’t know where I belong,” she admitted, her voice soft, almost fragile. “I thought this place... home... would give me some answers, but it’s just made me realize how far away from normal my life has gotten.”

Y/N opened his mouth to respond, but something caught his attention. A faint noise, barely perceptible, coming from outside. It was a soft rustling sound, like leaves being disturbed in the distance, but in the stillness of the warehouse, it felt louder than it should’ve been.

He paused, his body tensing slightly as his eyes darted toward the window. “Did you hear that?”

Bloom furrowed her brow, glancing in the same direction but not seeming overly concerned. “What? I didn’t hear anything.”

Y/N hesitated, his instincts on high alert for a moment before he forced himself to relax. “Never mind. Probably just the wind.”

Y/N had barely relaxed when he noticed something unsettling. It was faint at first, a shadow that didn’t quite belong. His eyes flickered to the wall, where an unfamiliar silhouette moved, just beyond the confines of the room. It wasn’t his, nor was it Bloom’s, and there was no way it could be coming from anything else in the sparsely furnished space.

He straightened up slowly, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. As the shadow shifted again, Y/N felt his heart rate spike, his body instinctively tensing.

Bloom, still sitting on the edge of the mattress, noticed his change in demeanor. She turned, her eyebrows furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

Y/N didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he slowly rose from his sitting position on the floor, standing up on his legs at a snail’s space while looking through the grimy window above and behind Bloom, peering out into the open space of the warehouse. His breath caught in his throat.

“Y/N?” Bloom asked, more urgently this time, standing up from the mattress herself. She followed his gaze, turning closer to the window to see through it’s blinds what had petrified him in fear.. The moment her eyes locked onto the scene outside, a gasp escaped her lips.

In the dim light of the warehouse, just a few feet from them, stood a creature that seemed like it had crawled out of their worst nightmares. It was tall and emaciated, with skin that looked like charred, cracked stone. Its long, skeletal limbs hung loosely at its sides, while its head twitched unnervingly, eyes glowing with an ominous red light. The faint shimmer of molten cracks ran down its entire body, giving off the impression that it was a living, breathing furnace that had cooled too soon. The creature’s entire form seemed to absorb the surrounding shadows, blending in with the darkened warehouse as if it were part of the gloom itself.

Its head snapped toward them with a disturbing speed the moment Bloom locked eyes on it, the glowing embers of its gaze fixating on them like a predator that had just spotted its prey.

"Shit!" Y/N cursed, stumbling backward, his heart hammering in his chest as the creature’s burning eyes seemed to pierce straight through the window. Bloom let out a panicked gasp, jumping back in fright, her hands shaking as she stumbled into Y/N.

As she scrambled, her suddenly sweaty hands lost grip of something—Stella’s ring. In the shock of the moment, her grip faltered, and before she knew it, the ring slipped from her grasp, clattering loudly as it fell through one of the metal grates on the floor.

Both of them froze for a moment, eyes wide, as they watched the ring disappear through the grate with a soft metallic clink.

Y/N blinked, staring at the grate in disbelief. "Seriously?" he muttered, his voice laced with sarcastic exasperation. "Of all the times to drop the only thing that can get us out of here."

Bloom looked mortified, her eyes darting between Y/N and the grate. "I didn’t mean to!" she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper as she frantically glanced back toward the window.

The creature was still standing in the open warehouse, its eerie eyes locked on their hiding spot, its head tilting slightly as if trying to pinpoint their exact location.

Y/N shot Bloom a pointed look before his gaze turned back towards the monster on the other side of the wall. "And this is exactly why you people never survive in horror films."

Sky pushed the door to his dorm room open with a weary sigh, his whole body dripping wet from the shower. The towel wrapped around his waist clung to his hips, while droplets of water slid down his skin and into the messy strands of his blonde hair. His muscles ached from the day's training, but his mind raced with a different kind of exhaustion—one tied to the growing web of tension he couldn't quite shake.

As he stepped inside, his eyes widened in surprise. There, sitting on his bed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, was Stella. She leaned casually on the edge of the mattress, her long legs crossed, and her blonde waves tumbled over her shoulders. The subtle shimmer of her top sparkled in the dim light, catching his attention for a fleeting moment. Her expression, though playful on the surface, had a hint of something more—vulnerability, uncertainty. She watched him, her head slightly tilted, her lips parted as if she had been waiting for him to speak first.

Sky let out a frustrated sigh, his hand brushing through his damp hair. He made his way to the dresser, pulling open a drawer to grab some dry clothes.

"You can't be in here, Stel," he muttered, keeping his back to her as he fished for a his trousers. "If Silva finds out..."

Before he could finish the thought, he felt her presence behind him, warm and close. Stella rose from the bed, stepping softly until her body was pressed against his back. Her hand ghosted over his bare skin, making his muscles tense at the unexpected touch. She leaned into him, her voice a soft whisper against his ear.

"I'll leave before the sun comes up," she murmured, her lips brushing against his shoulder in a delicate kiss. Her fingers traced down the length of his arm, drawing shivers in their wake.

Sky’s jaw clenched as he stepped away from her, turning to face her with a mix of frustration and weariness. "You can't pull this shit, Stel... You broke up with me."

Stella's once-confident demeanor crumbled at his words. She stepped back slightly, her arms dropping to her sides. The glimmer in her eyes dimmed as she looked at him, now appearing smaller, more fragile.

"No, I know," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Sky shook his head, exasperation creeping into his tone. "I didn't hear from you all summer, and then I say two words to a first year?"

"I said I know, OK?" Stella cut in, her voice trembling now, her mask of indifference shattered. "I'm sorry."

Her eyes met his, filled with regret, and Sky’s chest tightened. He wasn’t sure if it was anger, confusion, or something more complicated swirling inside of him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just another one of her games.

"What are you doing here?" His voice softened, searching her face for answers.

Stella hesitated, her gaze falling to the floor before she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I got jealous."

Sky’s brows furrowed in disbelief, and before he could respond, she spoke again, quicker this time, as though she was anticipating his reaction.

"Yeah, I know I'm not allowed to, but I did. And I did something really stupid." Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke. "Now they all think I'm a monster."

Sky’s expression softened at that, and for a moment, his heart ached for her. "Oh, Stel..." he started, but she cut him off.

"No, please," she pleaded, her eyes glistening with desperation. "I can't sleep in there, Sky. In a room where everybody hates me." She swallowed hard, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "Please. Tonight, can I just stay with you? Next to someone who doesn't... hate me."

The room was silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air between them. Sky’s gaze softened, and his shoulders dropped as the tension drained from his posture. He could see it now—the cracks in her usually perfect facade, the fear hiding behind her bravado.

"You're better than you think you are, Stella," he said quietly, his voice steady but gentle. "Other people can't see that if you don't."

Bloom and Y/N hit the ground hard, their backs pressed up against the cold concrete wall as their breaths came out in panicked, shallow gasps. The creature's distorted growls echoed throughout the warehouse, sending a chill down Bloom's spine. Her chest heaved, panic clear in her eyes as she whispered in a strained voice, barely able to control her fear.

“What the hell is that thing?” she hissed in a frantic whisper, her hands clutching the edge of the broken concrete behind her.

Y/N's heart was pounding so fast he thought it might burst from his chest. His eyes stayed locked on the ground, too terrified to look up in case the creature’s gaze might catch him through the darkened corners. “I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice shaky, “but it had to have followed us... from the gateway. Guess I wasn’t the only one doing the following tonight.”

They both held their breath, the silence of the warehouse stretching out unbearably. Seconds dragged on like hours, and for a moment, it felt like the creature had moved on. The air around them was thick with tension, each heartbeat deafening in the quiet space.

Then, the silence shattered. Glass exploded above their heads, spraying shards everywhere as the monster’s twisted, clawed hand burst through the window with a snarl. Its guttural growl reverberated through the space as its fingers clawed wildly, searching for flesh.

Bloom screamed, her body instinctively jerking away from the reaching claws. “Shit, shit, shit!” Y/N cursed, scrambling to his feet as they dodged the creature’s grasp, scrambling across the floor. He tried to summon his magic, but his fingers trembled too much. His mind was a chaotic mess, panic overriding any focus he had.

He clenched his fists, his jaw tight as he whispered through gritted teeth, “The one time I need you to flare up and lose control and nothing? Magic is such an ironic, cold-hearted bitch.”

Bloom grabbed his arm, yanking him toward a narrow corridor where a metal gate led into the crawl spaces under the warehouse. “This way!” she shouted, pulling him along as the monster roared behind them, trying to break through the window and wall as they descended into the tight space. Bloom softly shutting the floor gate in hopes of not letting alerting it to their location.

Her hopes and prayers were not answered.

Their breaths were ragged as they crawled, the clanging sound of the monster’s claws against the metal grate sending vibrations through their bones. The confined space felt suffocating, but it was their only escape. The pipes lining the walls hissed with steam, their warmth contrasting sharply with the cold terror clinging to their skin.

Then Bloom spotted it—Stella’s ring. It glinted just a few feet ahead, on the other side of another metal gate. "There it is!" she cried out, her voice filled with desperation.

She crawled toward the gate, her fingers reaching through a small hole to grasp the ring. But it was just out of reach, her fingertips barely grazing the surface. “Come on, come on,” she whispered to herself, stretching as far as her arm would allow, her voice growing more frantic. “Please, please, please…”

Suddenly, a deafening roar filled the space as the monster crashed through the opposite end, barreling toward them. Its grotesque form moved faster than Bloom had anticipated. Her heart jumped into her throat, panic flooding her senses.

“It’s too late!” Y/N shouted, his hand grabbing her arm, yanking her back just as the creature's claws swiped toward where she had been. The monster's hand snatched the ring from the ground, and with a viscious snarl, it clutched it tightly in its grotesque fist.

Y/N’s mind raced, searching for any sliver of magic he could control. His fingers twitched, and he focused on the hissing steam escaping from the pipes. With a burst of adrenaline, he manipulated the steam, using it to form a scorching barrier that erupted between them and the monster. The creature shrieked in agony as the steam obscured its vision, giving them precious seconds to escape.

“Go, go, go!” Bloom urged, pulling Y/N forward as they crawled through the narrow path, their bodies barely fitting through the tight spaces.

They burst through another gate, kicking it open just as the creature roared behind them, its footsteps growing fainter as they ran back into the main space of the warehouse. Both of them were out of breath, their bodies trembling from the adrenaline coursing through them. They made a break for it, desperate to get away.

As they ran, they nearly crashed into Miss Dowling, who stood waiting for them at the entrance. Her calm, composed presence was a stark contrast to their frantic energy. "Don't stop now," she commanded, her voice steady but firm.

She pointed toward the door where they had entered from the Otherworld. The gateway shimmered open again, casting a faint golden light.

Bloom and Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. They sprinted for the door, their lungs burning as they crossed the threshold. Miss Dowling stayed behind, and with a wave of her hand, she sealed the portal behind them, cutting off the terrifying sight of the monster charging down the stairs after them while she dealt with it.

Once they were back in the First World, both Bloom and Y/N collapsed onto the grass outside the mausoleum, their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath. Their hearts pounded so loudly it was hard to hear anything else. For a moment, they lay there in stunned silence, the cool night air hitting their sweat-covered skin.

“Are you guys OK?” A sudden voice startled them both, causing Bloom to gasp and Y/N to let out a yelp. They looked up to see Aisha, Musa, Terra, and Sam standing in front of them, their faces etched with concern.

"Yeah," Bloom gasped, trying to compose herself. "Yeah, yeah, I think so."

Y/N, still catching his breath, shot them a bewildered look. “Speak for yourself. I’m over here still trying not to piss my pants. What the hell was that thing?”

Terra frowned thoughtfully, her voice calm but grim. “I’m pretty sure it’s called a Burned One.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock, the pieces of his earlier conversation with Sky falling into place. “That’s a Burned One?” he exclaimed, incredulous. “What the fuck? No wonder everyone here is shitting their pants.”

Despite the tension in the air, the others couldn’t help but laugh at Y/N’s outburst, even Bloom managing a small smile.

“I like him,” Musa said with a grin, nudging Terra lightly.

Sam stepped forward, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. “Your first day and you’ve already gone and probably gotten me banned from the mentor roster for life. Don’t do that again.”

Y/N winced, patting his friend on the back. “Sorry, man. I just saw her walking alone and didn’t want something to happen to her out here by herself.” He glanced around warily. “Now I see why everyone’s so freaked about going beyond the Barrier.”

A tense silence followed until Bloom’s eyes widened with a sudden, dawning realization. Her stomach dropped, and her breath caught in her throat. "Wait... where’s Stella?"

The others exchanged confused glances, not understanding the urgency in her voice. Aisha tilted her head, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"She’s at school. Why?" Aisha asked, clearly not following Bloom’s line of thinking.

Y/N, still catching his breath, turned to look at Bloom. His expression shifted from confusion to grim understanding, his face paling as the pieces started falling into place. The heavy weight of what had just transpired settled between them, thick and suffocating.

Bloom’s eyes were wide, a sinking feeling gnawing at her insides as the memory flashed before her—the twisted monster, its grotesque hand swiping at her hand in the crawlspace before Y/N pulled her back. This was not going to be easy to explain to the Princess in the morning.

"That thing just took her ring."

To be continued...

☀️ | Prince Sky Masterlist | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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kushnovice · 9 months ago

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Spinning My World

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark! Reader

Synopsis: Reader tends to the avengers wounds constantly and when Tony opens an emotional wound in the reader, Bucky is there to help.

wc: 2.4k

Warnings: my first bucky fic, medical, wounds, tending to wounds, sibling rivalry, mention of dead parents, fluffy love, slow-burn

AN: Female reader, fluffy, lots of mistakes, self indulgent (Pictures are not mine nor are any characters part of this)

What makes the earth go round? to most people it's money, to others it's family. To me, it's love.

I grew up with Tony Stark, my older brother. He was never that big on affection which was something he picked up from our parents and because of that, Tony and I aren't as close as we once were before our parents died. I spend most of my time making sure the house is always put together and cooking food for Tony and Pepper. I always feel a little guilty as I haven't achieved as much as my older brother and living with him and all of his fancy things just rubs it in. I also spend a lot of time studying. Since we have the money, I am attending an Ivy League school online. Unlike Tony, I don't like robots and technology, I prefer to help people. I am majoring in Medical Science as well as minoring in Psychology, which the amount of work is unbearable.

I sigh as I close one of my textbooks, my notebook, and my laptop, leaving them on the desk in my room. I make my through the long winding halls and into the kitchen, the tiles on the floor leaving my feet cold as I walk. I flick on the light as I walk in and take a deep breath, finally feeling at peace. The kitchen was always my safe space since Tony never cooked for himself, neither did any of the avengers. It was my own tiny world of peace.

I smile softly to myself as I make my way to the sink, I start to wash my hands while humming a song. "Friday, can you play (song name)?" As the song starts playing, I feel more comfortable as I start pulling what I would need from the fridge and the cabinets. I then fill up a pot of water and put it on the stove to boil and preheat the oven before I start separating and seasoning the chicken. I then start to cut up some veggies before checking on the pasta that I am making. After everything is cooking, I take the time to dance in the kitchen, just enjoying the music and how it flows through my body. That was until I heard the door open. I jerk my head to see who it is, only to be stunned by the sight in front of me. There he was, the most beautiful creature this world had ever created, but he was drenched in blood. Without thinking, I walk right up to him and start to examine him from what I can see. "Oh buck, what happened this time?" I ask as I eye him up and down for injuries, feeling better after not finding any serious ones. Bucky sighed deeply, "The mission was hijacked. I'm not the only Injured one." I sigh deeply as I take the food out of the oven and put the veggies and sauce into the pasta. Then, without a second thought, i make my way to the medical clinic, which I pretty much run.

I put my coat on and wash my hands again before putting on gloves. I make my way into the emergency room that we have to see Tony laying on a gurney. I immediately start to cut his shirt and pants off as I examine his body, the deep wounds showing no mercy as they continue to bleed. I sterilize the wound and start stitching him up and taking my time to make sure it's perfect.

After a few hours, I was done with making sure Tony was alright and had checked out all of the other team members. I look at the clock and sigh deeply when I realize that it is close to 1 in the morning. I make my way through the winding hallways again and I stand outside of Buckys room. "Hey Buck, are you awake?" I ask softly knowing his super human hearing can pick up my voice, and sure enough because the door unlocks and slides open revealing that he had just got out of the shower. I blush slightly as i try not to stare at his bare chest, "oh um...sorry I was just coming to give you a quick check up..." I shuffle awkwardly at his door but he nods softly and lets me in his room.

The smell of Axe Body spray and Midsummers Night circle the room. I sit Bucky down as I start to stitch up a few of his wounds. It stays mostly silent, neither of us knowing what to talk about until Bucky speaks up, "aren't you tired?" I furrow my eyebrows, "why would I be tired?" Bucky sighs deeply, "we go on these missions almost daily and you're the only one who gives us medical help, isn't it tiring?" I look up from his stitches to smile softly at Bucky, "No, it's not tiring. If anything, it gives me a purpose and makes me a hero like you guys." I giggle to myself at how corny that sounded before going back to stich bucky up.

After I am done, I make sure I didn't miss any dry blood before I stand up, "make sure you eat dinner, I don't know if the others did yet but you need to eat." I smile at him to which he gives me a small smile at the end of his lips. "I did eat already, it was delicious." I smile at him as I watch him put his shirt back on, "good good, I tried a new recipe today so I'm glad it is good." I smile to myself thinking about how Bucky enjoyed my food. "Did you eat yet?" Bucky asks with a furrowed eyebrow and I'm left shocked, normally i'm the one asking that question. "I was about too, then all of that happened," I smile at Bucky but his facial expressions don't change this time. "You really should eat." I nod my head and start to make my way into the kitchen to see a huge mess of plates and bowls and forks all over the place and all of the food gone. "at least they liked it" I smile to myself as I shrug off my coat and take off my gloves, "Friday, some music please" I speak as I start to pick up the plates and bowls and utensil's and place them in the sink. I then pick up all the trash and wipe down the counter while dancing around the kitchen. I spend a few hours cleaning, until it is spotless before I turn off the music and realize I wasn't alone. As I go to grab my coat and turn off the light, I hear a voice, "Aren't you going to eat?" I whip my head around, looking for where the voice came from until I can see Bucky, just outside the door. "there was no more left, i'm glad everyone enjoyed it." I smile at him but he doesn't smile back, he makes his way into the kitchen and starts grabbing stuff. "woah woah woah what are you doing?" I ask as I watch him start up the stove. "You need to eat. More than any of us." Buckys voice is stern and emotionless but I can tell that he cares. "I'm alright, I'll be up in a few hours to cook breakfast anyways." I look at the time and then at Bucky who then turns to me with furrowed eyes again his eyes studying me and trying to figure me out as he looks me up and down. "Why do you cook for everyone? Why do you go out of your way for everyone? I don't get how that benefits you." I sigh deeply, "I don't do it for me, I do it for you guys. You guys are heros and are saving the world every day. the least I can do is cook you guys a warm meal and make sure you guys don't get too hurt." "But why?" Bucky asks as he cracks open an egg and starts to cook it. "You guys deserve it, you deserve the best." I smile at him softly, watching his movements while I think. "Why do you save the world?" I ask while watching his movements. He seems relaxed and calm "Because if I can help save the world then there's hope to save myself." He speaks in a quiet whisper, "why do you save us? why are you so interested in medicine?" He asks with seriousness, trying to understand me better. "I was never taught self defense so I save the world in the only way I know, medicine." Bucky turns to look at me, "you don't give yourself enough credit, no one does." I can hear how he sighs softly. I let myself smile, knowing this was his way of showing he cared. Bucky finished cooking the food and he made two plates, setting one in front of me while he sat across the table from me. He immediately downs his food within seconds leaving me to take awhile to finish my food. When I'm finished eating, I grab our plates and put them in the dishwasher. When i make my way back into the dining room, Bucky is watching me as soon as I enter the room. "What? Is there food on my face?" I jokingly ask, with a smirk on my face as I make my way back to sit down. Bucky snorts softly at my comment, "No, I just don't get how someone could look so pretty after working for so many hours." Buckys voice is soft but his eyes are full of emotion as his hands fold on the table. I feel myself melt under his gaze as my cheeks start to burn, "Oh, uhm...thanks..." I giggle lightly, "You aren't too bad looking for someone who just got stitched up." I reply causing bucky to be taken aback.

"Why are you two up at 2 in the morning?" Tony asks as he walks into the dining room in his black robe that is barely covering his bare chest and his blazers. Tony somehow still has his shades on as well as his slippers on as he sets down some coffee and a sandwich at the table and sits down. "I was just making sure your sister ate after giving everyone medical exams." Bucky replied as he stared blankly at tony as he ate. "Interesting." Tony replied quickly as he started to eat. "I'm glad that your mission didn't go to badly, not many people were injured." I smiled at Tony as I recall the injuries that everyone had got. Tony sighed as he swallowed the food in his mouth, "Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?" I roll my eyes at how immature Tony still is after all of these years. "Somebody's cranky." I snort to myself, Tony glares daggers at me. "Somebody needs to shut up." I smile at Tony, now enjoying fucking with him. "I don't have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel." I smirk at Tony, thinking I got the better up. "Frankly, I don't care. Just like how he never cared about Mom and Dad. You know who killed them right?" Tony asks as he glares between Bucky and I. "If you're insinuating that Bucky killed our parents then fuck you!" I yell in Tony's face, not able to control my anger as I get up and storm off. Bucky looks at Tony as Tony finishes his sandwich, not purposefully glaring but staring deeply at him causing Tony to get uncomfortable and scramble out of the room.

Bucky sighs deeply as he makes his way to my room, thinking of the right words to say as he ends up right outside of my door. "Hey...I know Tony's words really hurt but I'd like to tell you my story, not what you've heard from files but my life the way I lived it, when I had control of my life." Bucky expected no response honestly, who would want to talk to their parents murderer? Surprisingly the door swung open as Bucky looked in at my small trembling figure on the floor, a pang in his heart caused him to lose his breath seeing her in such pain.

I lift my head to meet Buckys soft eyes as he moves to sit on the bed next to me. His voice was kind but also firm as he told me all about his life, from his time in Brooklyn with Steve all the way through Hydra, he spoke about my parents last almost as if to save me the pain. "Your parents...they were a mission I had to carry out while apart of Hydra, or else I would have died as well as them...I wish I never had too..." Bucky sighs deeply as he looks at the ground. "You don't have to be my friend or even be nice to me, but I just wanted you to know that I never wanted to hurt anyone." Bucky softly got up, expecting to be kicked out before he felt my hands wrapped around his human arm. "I want to be your friend. It hurts knowing that you did that to my parents and I don't think that hurt will ever go away, but I do know that it wasn't you, that you didn't do it on your own will. I forgive you, Buck." I speak softly as I wrap my arms around Bucky's human hand, taking his warmth from him as it comforts my shaking body as I am able to relax into my bed and into Bucky, feeling safe and comfortable for once. I don't remember what happened after that other than my eyes forcing themselves closed as Bucky's mechanical arm softly strokes my hair.

I wake up to the sun shining brightly in my eyes causing me to instantly rub my eyes. I stretch with a small groan, wishing to be asleep still as I reach my arms above my head. I hear a rough chuckle beside me and open my eyes to see Bucky smirking down at me, "Morning, Doll." I feel my face go red at the nickname. I roll over to face him in the bed, "I'm sorry that I kept you here all night." I apologize softly as I yawn the sleepy feeling away. He smiled softly down at me, the golden sun reflecting off of his eyes making it look like tigers eye. "You have nothing to apologize for, darling." He used his fingers to swoop the stray strands of hair out of my face. "It was the best sleep I have gotten in awhile." He confessed as he pulled me a little closer, his body heat keeping me warm as he smiled down at me cheekily. "Don't smile at me like that, you know it drives me crazy..." I giggle at him softly as I place my hand on his face before leaning in. Bucky closed the gap as he took my lips in his, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in closer as he chuckles into the kiss.

"How else would I make your world spin?"

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader comfort #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky reader insert #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fluff

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tkwrites · 4 months ago

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It Doesn't Matter - Part II - Nico Hischier x ofc

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part II

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Beginning: Nico Hischier x Original female character

Summary: When Nico agreed to pose for Lena as her nude model, he never expected how difficult it would be or where the night would take them.

Warnings: Slow burn, talk of lots of anxiety, being naked for the sake of art, smut at the end (18+): handjob (f on m) fingering (m on f)

Word count: 12,200

Comments: This fic has taken on a bit of a mind of its own. It’s much, much longer than I originally envisioned, but I couldn’t bear to cut any of it down. I hope you like it as much as I do and enjoy Nico and Lena finally sharing their feelings for each other.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.

It Doesn’t Matter - Part II

“I feel like I shouldn’t eat before,” Nico said, looking down at the spread of sushi that had just been delivered to the apartment.

“Why not?”

“So I’m not…” he patted his stomach affectionately. Not only would he be immortalized in her art, he didn’t want the first time she saw him naked to include being bloated from eating too much rice.

Lena flipped her hand and shook her head, “the whole point of a nude study is to see a human figure as it is, not as someone who's prepped for three days or something.”

He looked unconvinced.

“Do whatever you feel comfortable with, but don’t get hangry on me,” she warned, pointing her chopsticks at him.

Holding up his hands in surrender, he laughed.

He ate but stopped as soon as he felt the mildest hint of fullness. He could eat more when they were done.

“So, do I just get naked?” he joked, sliding the plastic takeout containers into the fridge.

She snorted, but the tips of her ears flared pink.

“I…kind of hoped…” her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure if she could just come out and ask for what she wanted. If he were a hired model, she would have asked him to come in a specific outfit, but this was Nico, and he was doing this as a favor.

“What?” he asked, unsure why she was being so hesitant. He was doing this for her. Didn't she know he would do just about anything for her? “Do you want me to wear something specific?”

Well, if he was offering. “Can you put on some dark suit pants with a belt?”

That wasn’t so bad. “Anything else?”

“No socks.” She knew he didn’t love to be barefoot, but for this, they would go against the picture and story she was building in her mind.

“Does it matter what color boxers?” he asked instead of protesting. He couldn’t remember what color he’d put on that morning.

Just thinking about seeing him in his boxers made her blush. Which was so stupid. She’d walked into the kitchen just the week before, only to find him walking around in nothing more than a tiny pair of black boxer briefs. They’d hugged his ass so tightly that she could see the muscles shift every time he moved.

Finally managing to shake her head and desperate to change the subject, she blurted, “I’m going to go set up in the living room.”

Nico smiled at how flustered she was as he went to change. Maybe Nina was right. At the very least, she might not be totally wrong.

“Maybe I’m just reading too much into it,” Nina had said when he had called his siblings in a panic the day before, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to get through this. “But I think you should give it a try. At least tell her how you feel. You don’t see the way she looks at you.”

He did see the way she looked at him. The same way she always had. Friendly and open and kind. But that was it. It never went beyond that.

“And what if I tell her and she turns me down? Or what if I tell her, and she says she doesn’t feel that way? I can’t just go back to how it was before. I can’t just take it back.”

“Isn’t it killing you to not tell her?” Luca asked. He didn’t understand it as well as Nina did, and had both feet firmly in camp ‘grow a pair and tell her,’ like Jack.

He gave a non-committal shrug. It was killing him. No, that was too dramatic. It wasn’t killing him, but it was making him a little crazy to feel so much intense emotion without having anywhere to put it.

Nina was tired of having this same discussion with him, which had only increased in frequency when Lena moved in. If she knew for a fact Lena wouldn’t turn him down, she wouldn’t hesitate to bully her little brother into spilling his guts. But as it was, she couldn’t guarantee anything.

“I’m going to make an ass of myself,” Nico moaned.

“You are not,” Nina admonished at the same time Luca said, “so what if you do?”

Luca continued before either of them could jump in, “you make an ass out of yourself every day you don’t tell her the truth.”

Nico had glared, and Nina had rolled her eyes.

In any case, knowing Lena was also nervous took some of his nerves down, too. At least he wasn’t alone in that.

Pulling out her art supplies, Lena felt like she might throw up. She was nervous and excited, and also so worried she wouldn’t be able to capture him. The last thing she wanted was to make Nico look flat.

Although landscapes were her specialty, the Institute insisted every artist get a full education, crossing over as many mediums and styles as possible. Even if it wasn’t the students' specialty, lots of things could be learned from going outside your own box.

She was scraping by in the class mostly because Professor Brown took pity on her. She told Lena over and over again that she had the talent but needed to feel the art. It was a criticism she only partially understood. Lena always felt her art, but figure drawing was indeed harder for her to connect with. She wasn't even sure why it was so difficult. Perhaps because a person was always moving, unlike a mountain that stayed steady and steadfast no matter what was happening around it. Capturing a facial expression was definitely harder than it was to find the divots and crags of a landscape.

This was another reason she wanted to sketch him. She knew him so well and knew she wouldn’t be able to turn off the part of her brain that was freaking out about seeing him naked. She would have to pay attention to his humanity and try to translate it onto the page.

Nerves ate at her stomach. Not only with the idea of not being able to capture his lovely figure, but also… Nico was her friend. Sometimes a little more than that if either of them needed a date to an event, but they’d never taken it beyond their usual, comfortable banter that often flirted with the idea of more. It was one of the things that made moving on from him so hard. He never made solid moves, but he never cut it off, either. He flashed his dimples and made her weak in the knees, but never went so far as to kiss her or really ask her on a date.

Seeing him naked without being in a relationship felt like a step too far. At the same time, it felt like the only option. There wasn’t another man she’d be comfortable sketching, despite her bluff about Jes.

Now she wished she hadn’t eaten.

At the very least, she would have the barrier of her art and easel between them. Maybe this really would force her into feeling her art. It already felt like she was fighting through her anxiety, and he wasn’t even there yet.

When he came into the living room, Nico found the furniture rearranged. She’d shoved the coffee table out of the way and set two of the dining room chairs in its place. She was unpacking her supplies, leaning a large sketching pad on her easel and lining several graphite pencils up on the side table, along with a sharpener.

“No paints?” he asked.

She jumped, and her heart did a little skid to the side. “These pieces are all supposed to be done in one color. I feel most comfortable with graphite, so I’m doing that instead of colored pencils,” she rambled before managing to cut herself off.

Turning to look at him, she breathed, “good heavens, you look hot,” before she could stop herself. She knew he would be, but she still felt like she’d just been socked in the stomach.

It was a bit selfish of her to request this particular outfit. She always liked the way his suit pants fit, and seeing his toned chest rising above the clean, sharp line of his black belt made her fingers itch to hold a pencil. His muscles were sculpted for practical use - not too bulky, but not too lean. Chiseled enough to show ridges and valleys, but not so much that he looked like a hulked out action hero.

He was desire personified. He was… he was an Adonis.

A cheeky smile lit his face, “good to know.”

She made herself laugh to break the tension.

“Where do you want me?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. It felt too intimate, too much like something he fantasized about if he didn’t force himself to joke about it.

A triumphant smile lit her face. This she could do. She was used to directing models into shapes where the light would highlight the most interesting part of their features. She asked him to stand in the middle of the room and turned him a few times, trying to get the lighting right.

Nico tried not to flex or stand too stiffly when her hands were grasping his forearms to turn him this way and that. She stepped back to study him, then came forward to begin the process again.

Eventually, she shoved the couch out of the way and asked him to lean against the wall.

He stayed rigidly in the position she left him in as she brought another lamp into the room, angling the shade to get the shadows she was looking for.

“Just lean against the wall with your hands in your pockets.”

He did, and laughter burst out of her chest, “you can relax.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, looking up without changing his posture. He felt stiff and on display. In his mind, this was going to be much sexier than the reality was turning out to be. He didn’t know what to do with his hands or his eyes. Or his mouth. Was he supposed to be doing something with his mouth? Should he be smiling?

“Just stand like you would if you were waiting for something.”

"What am I waiting for?"

“Like you’re waiting for…me?”

“Where?”

“I don’t know, Nico,” she caught the exasperation in her voice and cut it off. He wasn’t a professional model. He wasn’t used to coming up with scenarios on the fly like this. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “like you’re waiting for me to…” she trailed off. “It doesn’t really matter why.”

If it was up to him, he’d be waiting to take her to bed. She was wearing the same pink shirt she’d worn that day he walked in on her in the kitchen, and it brought up vivid memories of her wearing it without a bra. He wondered if she was wearing the matching underwear. The thought made him blush and cast his eyes down.

His hair flopped over one of his eyes in that cartoon prince way it always did.

“Stay there,” she practically yelled, her hands itching to capture the angles of his face.

The sound of her pencil brushing her paper took over his thoughts, and he tried not to twitch as his hair tickled his eyelid.

“Can you relax your shoulders?” she asked.

He rolled his shoulders back and did his best to relax, “better?”

“Don’t move,” she chastised.

He smiled a little before trying to settle his face back into the expression he had before.

Just as his neck was beginning to ache, she ripped the page from her pad and asked him to sit down.

He looked at her for direction and smiled at her intensity. He wondered if she always looked at people like this when she was drawing them. He was a little disappointed that in the six years he'd known her, this was the first time this kind of intensity was being turned on him.

“Just get comfortable.”

Nico extended one leg and slouched into the chair, letting the other knee fall to the side so his legs were spread.

“Can you,” Lena stopped herself mid request, biting her lip. In her mind, she was forming an art story of him slowly undressing. She wondered if this was just her lust talking and if that was okay.

“Can I?”

She decided she didn't care if it was her lust driving. It would be a good, easy to follow series.

Her cheeks were aflame, glowing bright in the lamp light. “Can you undo your pants?”

His eyes widened momentarily, and she saw his Adams apple bob in his throat.

Forcing his fingers into action, he worked at the button and zipper, well aware of her watching his movements.

“I want to sketch your hands,” she said, voice reverent.

Nico stilled immediately and looked at her, holding his zipper pull. That wasn’t a reaction he’d expected.

“Oh, God,” she covered her face, pencil still in her fingers so the point angled down at her wrist. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

He couldn’t stop the cocky grin that spread over his face. This was more like what he’d imagined posing for her would be like. “You can sketch my hands anytime you want, hase,” he said, adding on the pet name before he thought better of it.

Her blush got brighter. She hated when he called her that. Bunny. It was a term of endearment that Nina assured her was well known and used by friends and lovers alike, but it brought up all sorts of wishing on her part that they were the latter.

“Where do you want my hands?” he asked because he knew it would make her more flustered.

She had to clear her throat and duck behind her easel. “Wherever,” she squeaked out, trying to calm her racing heart.

Laughing, he thought about photos of underwear models and tried to get his body into a position like that. He hooked his right thumb into his waistband, exposing more of his red boxer briefs. The other hand fell off to the side, relaxed.

Peeking around her easel, Lena lost her breath. She had never seen him so sexy. He radiated confidence and comfort with his body — something she never quite managed to feel about herself.

This was going to be impossible.

“Look at me.” She really didn’t want him to look at her. She felt like she might set fire to her sketch pad if he did, but it would make the most impactful portrait.

Nico’s eyes met hers, and her stomach jolted. The teasing, flirtatious energy radiating from him hit her in waves. The rumble of desire she'd been feeling in her low belly purred to a higher gear, and she had to consciously stop herself from clenching her thighs together. Flirty and intense, his eyes were focused on her with purpose. Wanting, she realized with a jolt. That’s what this expression was. The kind of wanting where you want the person you’re looking at to know you want them.

She’d imagined getting this look of open desire from him so many times that having it turned on her now nearly knocked the breath out of her.

Forcing her hands into action, she’d never been happier to find muscle memory taking over – drawing the basic shape of his body when her mind was still running around screaming about how outrageously, unfairly attractive he was.

Eventually, her creative mind took over, and she relaxed into the art, strokes lengthening and easing.

When it came time to detail, she started with his face, trying to capture his relaxed, intense stare. In any other circumstance, she was certain her panties would catch fire or dissolve right off her body if he gave her this look. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen this expression. He would never be so forward with her in real life.

Despite her heart beating so hard she felt it in her throat and her wrists, her pencil stayed steady.

The exercise wasn't lost on her. Even the first drawing felt different. This looked different from her usual work, too - more real in a way she couldn’t really describe. Almost as if he might just walk off the page and kiss the viewer.

Wanting to get this expression just right, she paused to take a photo so she could reference it later.

“Can we turn on some music?” he asked after a minute or two.

“Sure. What do you want?”

“Whatever, just something.”

Flipping on the TV, she pulled up his music subscription service and selected a slow playlist. Something he wouldn’t be tempted to bop his head to before going back to her easel to finish.

Pushing aside the longing to be on the receiving end of this wanting in a situation where he wasn’t acting, she continued on.

He stayed in this position the longest. He found it the most comfortable, and apparently, the way he was watching her, the concentration in her mouth, and the way it narrowed her eyes just slightly was fine for her. It was a relief to not have to school the wanting off of his face for once.

After getting to a place where she felt like she could pick back up in a day or two, she had him remove his pants and sit backward.

Almost immediately, he leaned back, one hand gripping the chair for balance while the other ran into his hair. She yelped at him to still.

He went rigid. The position forced him to engage his core, and the arm lifted to push back his hair started to cramp from halting mid-movement.

This sketch ended up being her favorite, though she knew people would like the one before better. This one was really a study of his body — how his muscles flexed and bulged. She even somehow managed to capture the feeling of movement in his bicep. She’d only been able to do that with trees before. Plus, the whole thing was such a Nico gesture, it felt more like him, too.

A page ripped from her sketch pad, and finally, letting his arm down and shaking it out, he watched her settle it, face down, onto the pile,

“Okay,” she came out from behind her easel, her hands clasped in front of her, “I’m gonna go… get some water if you want to undress and sit back like this?”

He nodded, feeling his cheeks heat to match hers. This was all fun, games and teasing until he had to be naked in front of her. And she wouldn’t even be touching him. She’d be standing three feet away, looking at him the way she looked at one of her paintings.

He’d daydreamed about being on the receiving end of that intense gaze so many times, but getting it in this situation felt like a poor consolation prize.

He was on his own here, with no one to share the vulnerability of being naked with.

“Do you need anything?” she asked from the kitchen as he was stripping off his boxers.

“Water?” he asked, setting them on top of his folded pants.

Walking back into the living room, two bottles in her hand, Lena stopped short.

She had seen many nude models and taught herself to get over the shock quickly. Training her mind to see the person as a sculpture, not a living being, she focused on the beauty of the human body and not the person living in it. And Nico’s body was beautiful. Smooth golden skin, dotted with freckles and moles, that stretched over living, moving muscles.

Except, he wasn’t a marble statue. He was a living, breathing, beautiful man, and she knew him. She knew how he acted and what he loved, and she knew how much she loved him. And how much it meant to her that he was willing to put himself in such an uncomfortable position for her. She loved him so much, her heart ached with it. How could she possibly translate that into a two dimensional piece of art?

She knew from experience how awkward it was to be a model, let alone a nude model, and that was with people she barely knew. For Nico to be naked in front of her, willing to let her sketch his strong legs and expressive eyes was something totally different. Now, besides seeing his body, which really was so beautiful, it nearly made her lose her breath. She could also see the anxiety in the set of his thigh and the curve of his spine.

Quite suddenly, gratitude and love for him swelled within her chest in a way she had never experienced. It felt hard to breathe.

A small noise escaped her throat.

Looking over his shoulder, Nico asked, “okay?”

She nodded. Her feet finally moved, and she handed him the water. “You’re so beautiful, Nico,” she said, that reverent tone back in her voice as her eyes wandered down his body.

He felt a blush creep down his neck. “I don’t…” he cleared his throat, “I mean, you’re…”

His brain wasn’t working right. She was watching him with this wonderment in her face, like she’d just found the answer to the universe. He wanted to tell her she was the beautiful one, not him, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words when she was looking at him like that.

“Thanks,” he finally managed to say. "What do you want me to do?”

Now that they were here, she had no idea. She just wanted to watch him for the rest of the night.

The embarrassment she’d expected never came.

She adjusted her easel, so she was looking at him, just off to the side. She could see three-quarters of his face, but his thick thigh hid his penis from her view. “Just try to get comfortable,” she said.

Her voice was so kind and gentle that it relaxed Nico a little, but mostly, he still felt coiled tight and out of sync. “I don’t know that I can,” he said truthfully.

“That’s fine. I know I’m asking you to be comfortable in a really awkward situation. If you feel like you can’t look at me, that’s fine.”

The truth was that he always wanted to look at her, but seeing her this way, looking at him with holiness in her face, made him ache for her in a way he’d never felt with anyone else. It felt nothing like any of the dreams or daydreams he’d had that involved him being naked in her presence before.

She started with his legs first, so he didn’t have to find a way to position his head right then. “Can you flex your right thigh?” she asked.

He did, and she giggled. He glanced over to find her in the same spot, shaking her head, “sorry, the other thigh? Your left. My right.”

Nico tried his best and heard a breath rush from her.

“Good grief, your legs are so sexy,” Lena said before she could stop herself.

His breath lodged in his chest. “My legs?” he repeated, his voice one step off from croaking. Had she really just said that?

“Yes,” she said, her tone serious, pencil still working. “Men’s legs are severely underrated.”

When he glanced at her, he found her concentrating again, but her mouth was set in a new expression, lips soft and parted slightly, like she was waiting to be kissed. At this point, it was nothing short of torture.

Pulling his eyes from her, he folded his arms around the chair back and set his chin on his hands. He watched the album cover bouncing around the TV screen. Mens legs were underrated. How many men did she think about like that?

“That’s really nice, Nico, if you can just stay like that.”

Cookie wandered in then and flopped onto the carpet previously covered by the coffee table. He watched Nico with slow blinking eyes, and he tried not to feel so observed.

After four more songs of listening to her pencil and eraser working, she said, “Okay.”

He sat up.

“Wait! I have to take a picture.”

He winced, feeling the muscles in his back knot up. “Those aren’t getting turned in, are they?”

“Nope, they’re just for me,” she winked.

His eyes widened, and she laughed.

“No, they’re for reference so I can finish the drawings. I’ll delete them later.”

Forcing a laugh, Nico couldn’t quite decide which was worse - her taking the pictures or telling him she'd delete them so casually.

“Okay, so for the last two sketches, I was thinking one with you standing, and one with you supine.”

“Supine?” he repeated. He’d never even heard that word before.

“Laying on your back.”

Well fuck. Of all the times he imagined himself on his back with her, this was just another one that would crush the daydreams he clung to on long, lonely nights. Pushing that thought away, he asked, “what’s first?”

“Whatever’s easiest for you.”

“Standing full frontal?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “None of my figure drawings have included genitals. I could cut you off at the pelvis or sketch from behind. Which would you prefer?”

He shrugged, feeling too spent to make a decision, especially one like this. Then, quite suddenly, he realized: If he was standing in front of her, he’d have to watch her looking at his dick the whole time. “Behind,” he blurted, too quick, too loud.

After following her instruction, he found himself standing, facing the large window, where the curtains were mercifully drawn. One of his feet was up on a rung of the coffee table, forcing him to keep balance with the other.

“I think you need to hold something,” she said, standing and walking out of the room.

Upon coming back, she handed him the chain he wore most of the time. He’d left it on his bathroom counter, unsure if she wanted him to wear it. The fact that she seemed to know where he’d left it without asking wasn’t lost on him. He wondered if she assumed that’s where he’d left it or if she’d somehow seen him put it there.

“You can fiddle with that,” she said.

It was cool and solid in his hands, and he allowed it to slip through his fingers, feeling the ridges and links of the metal, before his fingers slid over the cross. His breathing centered, and he felt some anxiety unknot between his shoulder blades.

After a quick outline, she filled in some details that wouldn’t come through in a photo and asked him to lie down. She knew he was losing steam. It was a lot to ask to pose for six different portraits. Not only did it require a certain amount of stillness on his part, but it was also a night full of being watched. She could fill in the details later.

“Let me get you a blanket to lay on,” she said.

He breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to lay buck naked on the floor.

She fetched the cozy blanket she kept on her bed. It was soft and comforting and smelled like her, like the sweet, citrusy scent of her perfume. It was all at once comforting and disconcerting. He had so many memories with this scent. There was even a time his dick would twitch every time he smelled it. It was around too much, now, for that reaction, but it still called up a sharp longing in his gut.

Wrapping it around himself, he sat on the floor, then lay down.

She fetched him a pillow, and once he was comfortable, began directing. “Can you bend your knee closest to me?”

He was slow to move but did it anyway.

Sensing his fatigue, she told him, “I know, we’re nearly done.”

He sighed, relieved he didn’t have to ask.

“I was hoping this one would be sort of satisfied.” she said, settling herself onto the floor facing him, her easel collapsed to be shorter.

He arched one of his eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” she answered, “I mean like, content, I guess.”

“I don’t think I can do that right now,” he said, hearing a wearied annoyance come into his voice. He was too tired to school it back. He was feeling spent up. Too much vulnerability with too little reciprocation.

Lena bit her lip. “Can I do anything to make it better?”

A sigh shifted his chest into a new position, “I just feel really…” he wasn’t sure what the words he needed were.

She waited patiently for him to finish. He liked that she never rushed his thinking.

Finally, he threw the other half of the blanket over his lap and sat up to face her. “I feel like I’m all exposed.”

She nodded.

“And you’re not.”

She hmm’d and pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, thinking. It was such a Lena gesture that it made him smile.

“Do you want me to get undressed?” she asked, then immediately regretted it. It seemed like the reciprocal thing to offer, but upon hearing the words out loud, she realized exactly how much she didn’t want to do it. Then they both would be anxious and awkward, and she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on her art, and that would be a loose loose for everyone.

“No.” Yes, of course he did. But if that were to happen, he wanted to earn it. He didn’t want it to be because he couldn’t sit through modeling for some portraits. Plus, then he would be completely distracted by her.

She scooted a little closer to him, questioning in her eyes.

“I feel,” he hesitated, searching for the right thing to say. A long pause passed where she didn’t get fidgety or impatient, just waited for him to continue. The phrasing came in SwissGerman first, or course, and then he had to figure out how to best say it in English. “I feel like I’m doing this for nothing.”

“For nothing?” she repeated, a mildly panicked look crossing her face.

“I’m doing it for you, but for what? So you do well on your project?” He was happy to help, but it felt like too much. Too much given without any reciprocation. Perhaps his fatigue was talking.

Her mouth pursed, “I can see where you’re coming from, but it’s a little more than a grade at this point. With you, I've finally been able to sketch the body the way I've been trying to for so long. And the fact that you’re willing to do something so uncomfortable, so vulnerable for me makes me just…I don’t even know how to say it.” She wanted to tell him that it made her love him. She’d told him she loved him before. She’d told him that many times: “love you, see you later,” but this felt different, deeper and truer somehow, and she wasn’t sure she was willing to admit those feelings.

Instead, she asked, “do you want to see the sketches so far?” feeling they may be the best explanation she had.

He perked up. She rarely showed anyone her art until it had been worked on more. A rough sketch was something she held close to her chest, wanting to keep it private until she deemed it good enough to display. He nodded, and Lena stood to retrieve them.

Given a moment to think, he assessed his body, finding what was lacking with a quick scan. “I think I need to eat,” he said.

His metabolism was so high, spiked higher by so much physical exercise all the time that hunger often came on swiftly, affecting his mood more than he’d like to admit. His teammates teased him to the point that he always had a snack with him. How long had they been at this drawing thing? He hadn’t eaten enough to begin with, and now they were however many hours in, and he was hungry.

That would also explain it. She hadn’t been joking when she told him not to get hangry on her. Setting the sketches in front of him, she went to grab the sushi from the fridge.

The drawings were farther along than he expected. She worked faster than he knew.

It was a strange thing to see himself in her delicate, penciled outlines.

Flipping over to the second sketch, he blinked a few times. He was himself, but not. The man on this paper was confident, relaxed, and flirtatious in a way he always wanted to be, especially with Lena.

“Is this how you see me?” he asked when she came back into the room.

“That’s how you are, Nico.”

It was like looking in a weird, funhouse mirror. Was this how she saw him all the time?

The third sketch was all in the details: the peek of the tattoo on his bicep, the flex of his abs, and the swell in his boxers.

He flipped to the first nude sketch. She perfectly captured how he felt. Anxious, unsure, and alone. It even looked like he was bouncing his leg. Yet, the portrait didn’t seem to feel anxious. It somehow felt like acceptance. She wasn’t fighting against his feelings to make them prettier, never asking him to feel anything different. She took him as he was and translated him onto a page in a way he’d never seen or expected to see.

How could he possibly be these two things just an hour apart?

“It’s weird to see your own facets turned back on you, isn’t it? I felt that way when I had to sit for class portraits.” They had all taken turns modeling for their classmates so they could understand better the perspective of the model, and it had been strange to see sixteen different versions of herself at the end of the class - each of them skewed a little based on the artist.

In the last drawing, he looked more relaxed. He was so glad when she’d handed him his cross to hold. Not only was it something comforting and familiar, but she’d also given him something to do with his hands, which felt important.

This was the drawing that most made him look like a hockey player, he thought. He could clearly see how his butt and thighs were thicker than the rest of him. He’d long ago gotten used to the size of his legs, but it was still strange to see the disproportion of them in comparison with the rest of his body laid bare so thoroughly.

She dipped her head to capture his line of vision, “I meant what I said before, Nico,” she said, handing him the to-go container. “You really are beautiful.” She flipped back to him tense and unsure. “Even here. Maybe even most here.”

His eyes shot to hers.

“This,” she tapped the drawn version of him on the back, “represents a huge sacrifice you're making for me. Putting yourself in a very uncomfortable position to help me get better at my art. To help me really understand the human form for the first time. I look at this, and I see how much you care for me.”

When he’d finished with the rest of the sushi, feeling sated and comfortable, he looked at her. She’d placed her sketch pad on the floor and put the last drawing on top of it. Hunched over, she was filling in detail.

He always appreciated this about Lena, that if he needed some time to himself, she would find a way to keep herself busy. He didn’t feel like he had to entertain her all the time, like he did with a lot of the women in his life. It was a refreshing change of pace.

He watched her work for a while, fascinated with the way she braced her hand with just the knuckle of her pinky finger so she wouldn’t smudge the charcoal already on the page.

Clearing his throat, he set the empty container to the side.

Looking up, Lena could see how much better he felt. His shoulders were more relaxed, and his hands were loose in his lap.

“Do you want to keep going?” she asked, moving the drawing back to the pile.

He nodded.

“We can pick up again on Sunday if you’d rather.”

He wasn’t sure he could convince himself into doing this again. “No, I feel better,” which was a partial truth, “let's finish now.”

She scooted back to her easel. When she got settled and looked around it, she found he had changed positions. Still on his back, his other knee was slightly bent, the blanket draped around his far hip to cover himself. His hand was up, resting under his head, showing off the smooth underside of his bicep and the tattoo of his families zodiac signs.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

"Yeah. Could you adjust the blanket?” she asked. “So it’s not so folded?”

He nodded and pulled himself into a half crunch to see and adjust the fabric. His abs contracted, and Lena looked at the ceiling before she could be overwhelmed with attraction.

“Like this?” he asked.

When she looked again, it was better, but still looked too placed, not like it’d been hastily thrown over him.

Her lips pressed together, an he sighed, knowing what that meant. “Can you just adjust it?”

“You’re sure you’re okay with that?”

Pulling in a fortifying breath, he nodded.

As she crawled over to him, Nico felt his heartbeat quicken.

Her hands softly gathered the blanket, pulling out the folds. If he were wearing something underneath, she’d just toss it up and let it fall, but she couldn’t do that.

Her fingers brushed the inside of his thigh as she tucked more of it between his legs, and the muscle fluttered all the way up to his groin. Biting his cheek, he stifled the groan of frustration that crawled up his throat.

“Sorry,” she said, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, eyes still closed. Maybe he hadn’t been as successful as he thought. If he looked at her now, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop the semi he was sporting from popping into a full boner and he just couldn't take that embarrassment. “it’s okay. Just, no more.”

Nodding, she scooted back to her easel.

Keeping his eyes closed, Nico thought about swimming in the cold, glacial lake near home until his body relaxed.

“Nico,” Lena asked, her hand on his shoulder.

His eyes fluttered open.

Above him, her expression was soft and full of that same wonderment from before. “I’m done if you want to get dressed.”

He nodded, and she left the room.

Before going to join her in the kitchen, he pulled his boxers and trousers back on.

“Sorry I fell asleep,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you felt comfortable.”

He hugged her then, bringing her body closer to his. He'd been thinking about it for too long.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” she said, voice intimate, dim and quiet.

“You know I'd do anything for you,” he said.

Did she know that? She figured she did. “Still, I know it wasn’t easy, so thank you.”

Nico stilled when she tucked her face into his neck. She’d done this before when he’d comforted her after a breakup. Then, he’d wanted to show her he could be the better man for her, but he’d been unwilling to cross that line. He still was. Maybe Jack and Luca were right. Maybe he did just need to grow a pair and ask her out. But what if she didn’t want him and didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of that discussion and wanted to move out? He would feel horrible. She’d have to find a place that would let her keep Cookie or take him back to her parents.

“Are you okay?” she asked, running her hands over his back. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft. Along with the scent of his soap and the mild undertone of sweat, there was a faintly cedar-y smell clinging to his skin. She’d never been able to tell where it came from. It was too faint to be cologne.

His muscles trembled. “Yeah,” he said into her hair, trying to calm his racing heart.

Her phone trilled from her back pocket. Lena was the only person he knew who didn’t keep her phone on vibrate.

She pulled back so she could look at it.

Nico reluctantly let his hands fall to his sides. “Your mom?” he asked. It seemed she was the only one who ever really called Lena. At least when he was around.

“No, it’s Milo,” she said, silencing the ringer and setting the phone face down on the counter. “He’s probably drunk and wants to get laid.”

Nico’s heart began to race with worry, jealousy, and fear. “Does he do that a lot?” Thank god his voice didn’t squeak over the words.

“Once a month or so, I guess.”

He knew he shouldn’t ask this question. He knew it was none of his business, but he was tired and emotionally empty, and his filter was thinner than usual because of it. “Do you take him up on it?”

Her eyebrows raised, a sarcastic look taking over her pretty features, “are you serious, Nico? Of course not. He’s just drunk dialing through his contacts list.”

“I always hated that guy. He’s such a tool.”

Hearing that phrase come out of Nico’s mouth, in his strong accent, made her laugh out loud. “What?”

“That’s not the right word?” he asked. “Like he’s selfish and just does things to be cool?”

“It’s the right word,” she confirmed, this teasing smile on her lips that would liquify his bones if he let it. “I know you never liked him. I just didn’t realize you felt so…strongly about it.”

His nose scrunched as he blew out a frustrated breath. “He wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Well, he couldn’t measure up anyway.”

“Measure up to what?”

“To this guy I’ve liked for a really long time,” she said, not quite brave enough to spit out the truth.

“So why don’t you date him?” Nico asked instead of demanding to know who this man was.

“I can’t ever tell if he’s into me.”

“He’d be a fool to not be into you.”

“Would he?” she asked, looking into his face, wondering what he meant by that.

“Yeah. You’re kind and fun and smart,” he said.

Part of her swooned when he didn’t lead off with the fact that she was pretty. The other part of her was a little disappointed he didn’t seem to notice.

“Any man would be lucky to have you,” he added on quietly as his eyes dropped to his feet. He couldn’t possibly look at her while telling her another man would be lucky to have her. It would happen one day, he knew, but he kind of hoped he’d somehow be out of the picture when it did.

Lena studied him as he looked at his bare feet.

His curiosity got the better of him, “who is this guy anyway?”

Well, shit. She’d really talked herself into a corner this time. What was she supposed to say now?

“Do I know him?”

She nodded.

“Does he play?” he asked hesitantly.

She nodded again.

“I thought…” The knowledge sliced through him: if it wasn’t about hockey, it was about him. “I thought you didn’t like hockey players,” he said, fighting against the ache in his chest.

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What gave you that idea?”

“I overheard you talking to Jessica at the rink once about how you wouldn’t date me because I was a hockey player.”

“You’re sure I was talking about you?”

“You said ‘I don’t date hockey players,’ and then Jessica asked, ‘what about Nico?’”

Understanding sparked her memory. “Did you stick around to hear my answer?” She hadn’t even known he was listening in on that conversation. She’d been sitting on the refreshments counter while Jessica baked the soft pretzels. He must have been around the corner, heading into the locker room.

“You said ‘it doesn’t matter.’ I couldn’t listen anymore, so I walked away.”

A small smile lit up her face. “If you had stayed, you would have heard me say, ‘it doesn’t matter, Nico’s not like the other guys. He’s sweet and respectful.’”

“Oh,” he said because he didn’t know what else to say. “I thought you didn’t date hockey players,” he said again, lamely.

“I don’t. I mean, not the average ones,” she added on when his expression fell. “I told people that because they’d wonder why I was around the team all the time, but not shacking up with any of them. Those boys I grew up with were all such dogs, but you never made me feel less than for being a woman or like I needed to put out to be accepted.”

His nose wrinkled.

“See, that?” she asked, noting his disgust. “That’s why I like you, Nico. You’re sweet and kind and so respectful of women.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You see it in locker rooms all the time. I’m sure you see it in yours currently.”

The conversation paused as he thought.

“You’re different than other players,” she said. “Jessica was asking me that because she knew you’re a hockey player that I liked.”

“You liked me?” he asked, his mind running in circles trying to process all the information coming at him.

“Yeah, Nico,” she said. Well, she was already here, she may as well spill the whole pot. “I still do.”

Half of his mouth lifted just enough to dimple his cheek.

“Ugh, don’t flash your dimples at me! I can barely keep my hands to myself as it is,” she said, shoving his shoulder.

That was new. “What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Don’t tease Nico. It’s rude.”

“Who said anything about teasing?”

“I —” she was having a hard time articulating her words, “but you —”

He patiently waited for her to finish, attempting to school the grin off his face.

“But you don’t even like me like that,” she finished, lamely.

He couldn’t help it, laughter burst out of his chest, “what?”

“You’ve never made a move,” she said, feeling outrageously embarrassed. It was one thing to admit her feelings, but then to have them thrown back in her face was something she just couldn’t handle.

“You know what Jack tells me every time he sees us together?”

She was so taken off guard by the question that it jolted Lena out of her spiraling thoughts. “What?”

“He tells me to make it happen.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“All the guys know I’m in love with you.”

Her breathing hitched, and she gripped the counter behind her to keep from falling over.

“In fact, everyone knows I’m in love with you. Nina says I look so lovesick no one can miss it.” He took a step in so they were nearly chest to chest. “But somehow, you don’t ever see it,” he added quietly.

He was so close, she was certain he could hear her heart hammering. Her mind was still caught on, ‘all the guys know I’m in love with you.’ It was like she couldn’t process the words. “You’re in love with me?” she asked.

A deep, frustrated sound, like a groan, filtered up his throat. The thought of pulling that sound out of him in any other circumstance made her knees feel weak. It sent heat racing between her thighs.

“I’ve been in love with you since I left Halifax,” he said, relief he didn’t have to keep anything under wraps flooding through him. “That’s why I broke up with Viv when I left. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it wasn’t fair to her or to me.”

Her wide eyes snapped to his, and Nico took a steadying breath. She really hadn’t known. All this time, he thought she must have, but held to her principles enough to turn away from it.

“I’ve been in love with you since you left Halifax, too, Nico.”

It was his turn for his breathing to hitch. “What?”

“I thought you didn’t like me like that.”

How was this possible? Nico felt like his knees were slowly turning to jelly. “How could you think that?” he croaked.

“You never made a move,” she repeated.

“You said you don’t date hockey players,” he defended.

Hands fluttering up to cover her face, Lena shook her head. “I can’t believe this,” she said, a small laugh escaping.

Reaching up, Nico gently encircled her wrists and pulled her hands away. She let them fall by her sides.

His heart was galloping in his chest. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, surprised to find his voice quieter than he meant it to be.

Lena nodded, a feeling as though she were about to jump out of a plane surging through her body. Something grand and beautiful waited for her if she could just put her faith in the parachute and step into the unknown. Well, partially unknown. She knew Nico, and she wasn’t afraid.

One of his hands drifted up to her face. Cupping her jaw, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You’re so beautiful, Lena,” he said, glad to find his voice had evened out.

For the first time, she recognized that look he was always giving her. That wide open, soft gaze. Love, she realized with a shock of understanding. It was love. It had been love this whole time. She really had been blind.

Her eyes darted away as her cheeks flushed pink. “Thank you.” She wouldn’t lie, hearing it eased some of the anxiety in her chest.

He waited for her eyes to come back to his before leaning down. Heart hammering with six years of anticipation, their lips finally met.

When her head tipped slightly to the side and her mouth opened to him, a shock raced down his spine while a sigh filtered up his throat. The kiss was better than any fantasy his mind had concocted through the years.

His tongue tentatively slipped into her mouth, and Lena felt a flash flood of right, this is right, this is the most right thing that’s ever been right in my life, sweep through her.

Her hands fluttered up to his shoulders, and she felt his, heavy on her waist, squeeze when her tongue slipped past his lips.

God, Nico was in paradise. This was the softest, most heavenly, love-filled kiss he’d ever experienced. How did people even find words for this? Sudden understanding sparked in the back of his mind. This was why people wrote sonnets and songs and books. He wanted to drown in this feeling.

Eager to see his face again, she eased back.

“This is okay?” he asked, eyes snapping to hers, worried she was having regrets.

Nodding, she leaned forward and slid her mouth over his.

This kiss was slower, more passionate. When her teeth grazed his bottom lip, Nico felt electricity zing through him.

His fingers ran into her hair to cradle the back of her head.

There was no stopping the moan that filtered up her throat when he sucked on her tongue gently.

Fuck, he loved that noise more than anything he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear it again, and again and again in every possible position and every possible circumstance.

All at once, the kiss was electric, the initial softness giving way to the chemistry and sexual tension that had been brewing between them for more than half a decade. Lena had never felt anything like it. It was exhilarating and somehow grounding in a way she’d never experienced, as if they were rooted together by their passion.

She wanted more of him. Her hands dove into his hair, noting the groan he let out when she pulled it lightly.

Nico lifted her onto the counter. He wanted her closer than their standing position allowed. She wrapped her legs around his waist. It was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

He broke away and trailed his mouth to her jaw, eager to taste her skin.

“Nico,” her voice was a breathy little moan.

He was a fool for not telling her sooner. God, he was such a fool.

Her hand found his jaw and pulled his mouth back to hers with a simple, “more,” that nearly drove him out of his mind with the need to obey.

Their teeth clicked, and she gigged.

He loved this, too - getting her in all the ways, even the awkward ones. A laugh fell into her mouth, and it brought him back to himself. He wanted to savor this. There was no need to rush. She wasn’t going anywhere.

Nico felt himself pout when she proved him wrong, and her lips broke from his. She stripped off her shirt, and before he could get his eyes on her, he felt her mouth connect to that soft spot under his jaw. How did she know?

“Lena,” he breathed. Her hands slid down his front, and the shock of her touch sent his skin to trembling. “Oh my God, Lena.”

She’d always loved the way he said her name, but this was something else. This was a song she would never get tired of, one she wanted to listen to again, and again, and again.

Her mouth explored his throat, sucking his pulse point. His dedication to go slow dissolved a little with every brush of her tongue, every graze of her nose ring across his skin.

His hands were suddenly everywhere. All over her back, cupping her butt to pull her to the edge of the counter so their hips could touch.

Feeling the rigid length of him pressing between her legs turned Lena feral. She’d done this to him. She was doing this to him. Tightening her legs around him, she wanted to do so much more to him.

Their hips ground together as his hands slipped to unhook her bra. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

He fumbled with the clasps briefly before they gave way.

Taking the garment at the center gore, she pulled it away from her body. A brief moment of chaos ensued as their arms tangled in the effort to get it away from her. Finally, she flung it over his shoulder and giggled when the metal bits clinked against the tile floor.

Laughter split his face into the adorable, dimpled smile she loved so much before his gaze turned back to her. Even as the corners of his mouth remained turned up, his jaw slackened as his eyes blew wide.

Dreams and reality crashed into each other, and Nico felt his breath rush from his lungs. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

“Hase,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was a bit of a cutesy pet name, but his brain was too busy trying to soak in every detail of her he’d been so starved for to think of a new one.

He murmured something under his breath in German, and Lena felt heat race to her core. She slid her hands into his hair in an attempt to pull him into a kiss, but he resisted, eyes still glued to her chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, voice husky.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling a blush overtake her cheeks.

He reached out, then paused, hands stopped in mid-air. “Can I?”

When his eyes flicked up to meet hers again, she lost her own breath. She was so used to seeing Nico’s expressive eyes wide with (what she knew now was) love, sparkling with mirth or drooped with disappointment. This…lust, different even from when he was posing with his pants undone, was new. Heat mixed with love and wonder. She’d never felt so desired.

She nodded, finding her voice wasn’t where she left it.

Nico was already throbbing against the zipper of his trousers, and cupping her breasts in his palms only made it worse. When she arched into his touch with a moan, it became damn near unbearable.

Unable to wait any longer, he crashed his lips to hers as their hips surged together again.

If he wasn’t careful, he was going to blow his load in his pants before he even got to feel her touch. Forcing himself to slow down, he concentrated on the weight of her breasts in his hands and the taste of her tongue in his mouth.

She was the one who took it further, one of her hands slipping down his stomach to cup him over his fabric prison.

Now would be a horrible time to faint, he told himself, even as he felt his eyes rolling back and his hips pushing forward into her hand. He groaned against her lips.

His mouth slid to her neck, and she shivered, feeling her nipples tighten more as his teeth scraped over her sensitive throat.

He was hard and so hot, even through the fabric of his trousers. It suddenly wasn’t enough. Removing her other hand from his hair, she fumbled with the belt buckle. Finally managing to get it open, she asked, “this is okay?”

“God, yes,” he moaned, hips restlessly moving against her hands.

As she was tearing the zipper down, one of his hands slid toward the fastening of her own jeans. “Okay?”

“Uh-hu.”

It was only after he flicked the button open and managed to pull the zipper that she realized she didn’t want to do this here. Not where, if she leaned back, her head would hit the cabinets, and not so close to where they prepared their food.

“Can we move to the couch?” she asked, breath in his ear.

Could they move to the couch? He would move them to the moon if she asked.

Lightning fast, his hands were suddenly cradling her bum, hauling her off the counter so he could cary her to the living room. A surprised yelp escaped her at the sudden show of strength.

He had to wrench his eyes open so he wouldn’t dump them on the floor as she licked his jaw up to the lobe of his ear, which she nibbled gently.

When they made it there, he tried to sit down still holding her, but only half managed it before he was falling the rest of the way. He didn’t mind her crashing on top of him. Feeling her chest pressed to his was a lifelong dream coming to fruition.

She was moving so restlessly on top of him, hips grinding, it made him whimper. Her hands snaked between them again, this time to shove his pants down.

They both pushed and tugged, and finally, he was free.

She broke away to look at him, and he had a sudden, terrible worry she would be disappointed. He wasn’t the biggest guy, but he wasn’t too small — at least no one had told him so.

“Oh, Nico,” Lena murmured, finally getting her hands on him. He was perfect. Thick and hard and searingly hot against her palm.

“Lena,” he moaned, head tipping back against the couch cushions. Finally feeling her touch was incredible. Now really would be a terrible time to faint.

She pulled her hand away briefly to spit into her palm, and he almost lost it, feeling like he could have come from the sight alone.

As soon as she began to stroke him, he was done for. There was no coming back from this — though he couldn’t think of a reason why they would need to.

His mouth dropped open, and his eyelids fluttered, attempting to keep looking into her face. The pleasure she was pulling out of him won out, and his eyes closed.

“Feels so good,” he groaned, his accent thickening as he spoke. He was going to lose his English next.

It happened, and he started babbling in German.

His voice was lower in his native tongue - it always had been. Lena felt her core flutter in anticipation.

He repeated the same word several times like it was a question, but she didn't know what it meant.

Nico opened his eyes and came back to himself enough to realize she didn't understand, and therefore couldn't do what he was begging her to.

“Kiss,” he managed in English, unable to pull out the correct grammar. “Please, kiss.”

Oh, that's what kush meant. In hindsight, it did sound a lot like kiss.

When she caught his lips, Nico couldn't hold back a moan as her tongue licked into his mouth. He had imagined this so many times, but those fantasies didn't prepare him for the actual feel of her hands on him, or the sweet, warm taste of her mouth, as if she'd just eaten one of those cinnamon sweets she liked so much.

Pleasure sparked and fizzed across his skin.

Jesus, this was better than anything he’d ever felt. Was this what six years of longing and anticipation did? Deciding it didn’t matter, he pushed the thought aside and let his whole mind be consumed by her soft hand, her incredible tongue, and the knowledge that this was actually happening. This was happening for real. He wasn’t going to jolt awake in a few minutes with a boner so hard it hurt.

“Lena,” he groaned into her mouth.

She pulled away just enough to whisper against his lips, “what do you need?”

Everything. He needed everything. “You,” he said instead.

“I’m here,” she said, pulling at his length with a little more fervor.

His hips pumped up into her hand, desperate for release.

“Lena, I’m…” he couldn’t even get the words out before he was exploding.

She moaned along with him, drinking in the pleasure that washed over his face - his fluttering lashes and panting mouth.

Closing his eyes, Nico tried to compose himself. The sight of his release splattered over her breasts might actually make him faint.

She kept going with slower, gentler strokes until he winced, then gently pulled her hand away.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice deep and satisfied.

She giggled.

God, he couldn’t even move. Her mouth was back at his neck, and he breathed out a curse in German.

“Is that good or bad?” she asked into his skin.

“So good.” He needed to teach her so he wouldn’t have to explain. “Wanna make you feel good, too,” he said instead of launching into a lesson in German swearing.

Lifting her mouth from his neck, she looked down at him.

God, he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “You’re so handsome, Nico,” she whispered, tracing a thumb over one of his bushy eyebrows.

He flushed.

“I’ve thought about what you look like when you’re coming so many times,” she said, tracing over his cheekbone this time.

“You have?” he squeaked.

She nodded. “And it was so beautiful.”

“I have too,” he admitted, slowly sliding his hand up her thigh. “Can I see it?”

Biting her lip, she nodded.

Even as he was working his hand into her underwear, his other was coming up to her face and gently thumbing her bottom lip out from under her teeth.

“Show me how to make you come,” he said, eyes boring into hers.

Shit, she might just fall apart from that look alone.

Rising onto her knees, she shoved her pants and underwear down to give them easier access. His fingers slipped between her lips, and she moaned, pressing toward them.

“I don’t really get off from penetration,” she said, “I like it, but it won’t make me orgasm, so it’s all about the clit for me.”

Sliding his fingers back from her entrance, he searched for that little nub. “Here?” he asked when he thought he’d found it.

Reaching down, she moved him where she needed him, so the pads of his fingers were making direct contact. “Here,” she breathed, guiding him to circle over and around her pearl.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and he devoured the pleasure that flowed over her face.

“I like this, too,” she said, moving his fingers into a V so they traced on either side.

He started a pattern from her instructions — circling and stroking, then splitting as he pulled back.

“You can press harder,” she moaned softly.

He did, and her hips stuttered into his touch.

“Can you…” she trailed off, feeling suddenly shy. She’d never asked a man for this before. Then again, this was Nico. He’d taken every other instruction to heart and was touching her exactly the way she wanted. She knew he would at least try.

“Anything,” he rasped, “tell me.”

Hips seeking, she moaned and loved that he was so willing to please her. She could see it in the way he was watching her — this eager, desperate look in his eyes, full of wonder and desire and so much need.

“Can you suck my nipples?” she finally whispered.

Growling something affirmative, he leaned in and drew one of the tender buds between his lips.

Her voice keened, and her hand flew into his hair to cradle him to her chest, “use your tongue,” she instructed, then moaned, “yes, Nico,” when he laved over the sensitive peak.

He was so turned on by her. By her confidence in knowing what she wanted and that she trusted him enough to tell him. Not to mention the way his name was panting out of her mouth.

Her back arched, pushing her hips into his hand and her breast into his mouth.

If Nico had known pleasing a woman could come with instructions like this, it would have changed his whole life.

He moved to the other breast, almost suckling at the tender bud.

“Fuck, Nico,” she moaned, “feels so good.”

“Show me how to take you there.”

“Put your fingers inside me.”

He obeyed even though he didn’t know how he’d stroke her clit now. Just as he was getting ready to detach his other hand from her breast, she guided his wrist so the heel of his hand pressed into her.

“Nico,” she moaned as pleasure flooded her system. Her hips ground into his hand. He felt incredible. God, was this what she’d been missing every time a man asked what she wanted and then did what they wanted anyway?

Her next words fell apart just as she did, turning as nonsensical as her rhythm.

Even watching the pleasure roll over her face didn’t prepare him for the feeling of her coming. He'd never felt anything like it. Her muscles clenched in quick succession, fluttering around his fingers. Fuck. If she did this around his cock? He might die.

All at once, the pleasure surging through her snapped, and she collapsed against him.

Nico eased his fingers from her and eased them up to his mouth, eyes rolling back at the first taste of her. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her.

Before he could suggest they move to the bedroom, she was curling against him and tucking her face into his neck. Her breathing slowed. It was late - well past her usual bedtime, and Nico knew how a good orgasm could relax his body right to sleep if he was already tired.

“I love you,” she whispered into his neck.

A thrill zinged through him. “I love you, too,” he said, stroking a hand up her spine.

Upon waking, the first thing Lena noticed was that her breasts were bare, nipples puckered so tightly in the chilly morning air that they ached. Somehow, though, the rest of her wasn’t cold.

Trying to roll over, she ran into a solid body behind her.

The night before came crashing back. Nico posing for her before admitting he loved her. He loved her! Part of her still couldn’t believe it. She smiled, remembering the incredible way he looked falling apart beneath her before he teased the most incredible orgasm she’d ever had from her body. So incredible, she’d fallen asleep right in his lap. He must have moved them into this spooning position on the couch rather than moving her into her own bed.

Her phone trilled again. That’s what had woken her. Where was it? It sounded nearby.

Nico mumbled something and tightened his arms around her when she tried to get up.

When it rang for the third time, she realized it wasn’t ringing at all - it was her alarm. She needed to get up. As much as she wanted to just stay here and recreate the night before again and again and again, something Nico wouldn’t have minded if his hot length currently pressing into her back was any indication, she couldn’t. She had to show Professor Brown her sketches, and she had a painting to turn in in her post modernism class.

“Nico, I have to get up,” she said, lifting his arm from around her waist. Her chest was itchy from where his cum had dried on her skin.

“Nonig,” he mumbled, pulling her back into him.

“Yes.”

Finally managing to extract herself, she immediately fell off the couch.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice still thick with sleep.

God, he was adorable waking up. Mussed hair and heavy lidded eyes.

Nico didn’t want this moment to end. It couldn’t. It was too good. He watched, amused, as she tripped over her pants before tearing them down her legs and kicking them them off before she stumbled into the kitchen.

She finally found her phone — she’d left it on the counter — and cursed when she saw the time. She didn’t even have time to shower.

He groaned a pleasant curse in his native tongue and rolled onto his back, stretching his arms over his head. Sleeping on the couch was definitely not going to help him in the game tonight.

He sat up abruptly. “What time?” he called.

“It’s 9:05. I have to go to class.” she said, debating if she should just pull her jeans on and go. No, if she couldn’t shower, she at least needed to change.

He cursed again, jumping to his feet. This was not how he wanted the morning after to go. He wanted to make her breakfast in bed and ravish her again before he had to leave. Now, he had to rush. Practice started in 30 minutes, and it would take him 20 to get to the rink.

He ran to his bedroom and stopped short. There was a suitcase next to his dresser. He’d forgotten he was heading out on a road trip.

Running his hands into his hair, he wondered how this could have happened. He would have to be at the arena before she got home from class, and then they would leave from there to catch their flight to Florida. He finally got her, and he had to leave. This was the worst morning after he could have imagined.

Attempting to run down the hall and pull on her chucks at the same time probably wasn’t the best plan, but Lena needed to see him before he left. She wouldn’t see him again for six whole days. Stumbling, she crashed through his doorway just in time to watch him pulling on a new pair of underwear. She finally got her other shoe on before she stood up, pushing her hair out of her face.

He turned to her, and she lost her breath. She’d seen him naked, and he still did this to her.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she said quietly.

He didn’t hesitate to stride to her, take her face in his hands, and kiss her deeply, like he’d wanted to for so many years. He was never giving up the opportunity again.

Gathering her against him, he broke the kiss in favor of burying his face in her hair. “I wish this morning was different.”

“I know, I do, too. But I’ll be here when you get back,” she assured, running her hands down his back. At the tail end of her stroke, she let her fingers curve in so her nails traced over his skin.

He pulled back to look into her eyes, cheeks dimpling.

A smile spread over her face, and she leaned up to brush her lips over his, “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

He nodded.

“Good luck,” she said, kissing him again, “I love you.”

Maybe this morning wasn’t so bad after all. “I love you, too.”

The smile she gave him made him want to move mountains.

“Thank you again,” she said, leaning in to kiss him one more time.

“For what?” he called after her as she ran down the hall.

“For everything,” she called back. “For all of it.”

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