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hueseok · 4 months ago

Text

it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment.

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.”

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, and then I’ll do everything I can to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world.

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt.

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you.

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours.

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect.

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don��t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Apple juice,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

You grab the juice pouch from his grasp, prying the straw attached on the back, pushing its end for it to pop out of its plastic cover—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing and punching in the straw properly.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he does the job and guides the straw to your awaiting lips, a long exhale through your nose escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in feeding yourself with apple juice, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated.

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you are. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh.

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss.

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

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thedensworld · 1 year ago

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Healing Hues | Jeon Wonwoo

Pairing: Actor!Wonwoo x Professor!Reader (ft. Ex!Joshua)

Genre: Slowburn, angst, fluff, friendship

Synopsis: Exhausted by the monotony of his life as a celebrity, Wonwoo makes a pivotal decision to return to his childhood hometown and embark on a heartwarming project: building a small library named 'Healing Hues.' Little does he know, this journey will lead to a series of unexpected and transformative events.

Author Note: reader is she (don't hate me and my writing preferences:( please) i would love to receive a request. Send me an interesting plot!

Jeon Wonwoo knew deep down that his decision had been impulsive. Packing his belongings and embarking on the drive to Changwon, all on the heels of securing a two-week vacation leave, was hardly a meticulously planned expedition. But sometimes, life calls for a dash of spontaneity. His destination? None other than his father's villa nestled in the heart of his hometown, Uichang-Gu. The key to this haven of cherished memories was handed over by his father himself, a tacit approval of his quest for respite.

Seoul, the city that famously never slept, had held him captive for too long. It had embraced him, and in return, he had embraced its fast-paced, modern rhythm. But as he cast his gaze upon the bustling streets and the neon glow of the city one last time before his departure, he felt an inexplicable yearning for the simplicity of days gone by. It was a yearning that whispered to his soul, beckoning him to escape the whirlwind and find solace in the embrace of his roots.

The decision to seek refuge in Mujeom-ri, the place where his childhood dreams had been nurtured, was driven by this unshakable yearning. The memories were etched in his mind with vivid strokes, a testament to the beauty and tranquility of that place. Mujeom-ri had been his sanctuary, a place where his spirit could roam free, unburdened by the demands of the modern world. It was a slice of heaven on Earth.

Wonwoo had visited his hometown a few times before his family decided to make the permanent move to Seoul. Those visits had been a lifeline, a chance to escape the chaos and rediscover himself in the simplicity of country life. The six-hour drive from Seoul to Mujeom-ri was hardly a hindrance; it was a journey to a world where the forsythia lined the roads, their golden blooms lighting up the night like a string of stars. It was the charming countryside, the antidote to the urban hustle and bustle.

The clock struck midnight as he finally arrived in Mujeom-ri. He hadn't bothered changing out of the outfit from his last promotional event, a testament to the whirlwind of his recent schedule. Stepping into the villa, he was greeted by a scene of warmth and familiarity. The passage of time hadn't been unkind to this place; it had been meticulously cared for by the people his father had entrusted with its upkeep. These twin villas had once been his family's sanctuary, the backdrop to his childhood adventures, before they were transformed into welcoming havens for guests.

Before surrendering to the allure of sleep, Wonwoo made it a point to notify his father of his safe arrival. The weary traveler then retreated to his bedroom, a sense of nostalgia and excitement mingling within him. He was back in Mujeom-ri, his cherished childhood haven, ready to embrace the memories and tranquility it promised. As he lay in bed, the whispers of the past and the promise of new adventures danced in his dreams, setting the stage for an unforgettable journey of rediscovery.

A heavy sigh of relief escaped from his lips, a cathartic release of tension as he lay down. He closed his eyes, a weary smile tugging at his lips as he surrendered to the embrace of slumber. Tomorrow held the promise of wonderful things, and he was eager to seize them. His plan was simple: to get himself a bike and embark on an enjoyable ride through Dong-eup, leaving behind the bustling life he had known in Seoul. The city's relentless pace had worn him down, but here in Mujeom-ri, his hometown, he hoped to rediscover the simple joys he had left behind.

As he shifted in his bed, on the verge of drifting into dreams, a sudden thud shattered the tranquility of the night, jolting him awake. His body tensed, and his heart raced as he scanned the room with a growing sense of unease. Anxiety crept into his thoughts, and he couldn't ignore the feeling of menace that hung in the air like a dark cloud.

"Who are you?" he inquired with a quiver in his voice, his eyes wide with panic. But there was no response, just an eerie silence that deepened his unease. Without hesitation, he rose from his bed and cautiously made his way out of the room, guided only by the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Another thud echoed, this time from outside the house, urging him to hasten toward the source of the sound. The night seemed to hold its breath, the air heavy with anticipation, as if the universe itself conspired to create an atmosphere of suspense and mystery.

Flinging open the door, he was greeted by an unexpected sight—a woman gracefully jumping down from a two-meter-high fence. His gasp mingled with her startled exclamation as they found themselves face to face in the moonlit night. The dim light failed to reveal her features clearly, and his glasses did little to aid his vision. Fatigue weighed heavily on his eyelids, further obscuring the woman's identity. All he could muster was a question about her sudden arrival, his voice trembling with curiosity and concern.

"I live next door," the woman explained, pointing to the smaller cottage adjacent to his own. Her voice was as soft as a whisper in the night, and her explanation illuminated the reason behind her unconventional entrance. "The gate was locked, and I thought the housekeeper had something to do with it."

Wonwoo couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt; it had been he who had locked the gate, an oversight driven by his fatigue. He nodded in understanding, concern etched on his face as he inquired about her well-being, knowing that her descent from the fence must have been quite a fall. Assured of her safety, he retreated back into his bedroom, ready to bury his thoughts in slumber once more.

Wonwoo had never been a morning person. Back when he shared a house with Kim Mingyu, his bandmate, they were notorious for missing their alarms, only rousing from their slumber when their manager intervened. Waking up early was an arduous task for Wonwoo, a self-proclaimed night owl. His brain seemed to function at half-speed in the morning sun. Unless there was a morning schedule requiring his presence, he typically awoke in the afternoon, cherishing his days off and contemplating his erratic sleep patterns.

However, today was different. He found himself stirred from his sleep by the unmistakable crowing of roosters, heralding the arrival of a new day. Wonwoo couldn't recall the last time he had woken up with a smile on his face.

As he embarked on his day, he began by making his bed, a simple task that had become a comforting habit from his time living with Mingyu. Unpacking his belongings, he realized the need to stock up on essentials for his two-week stay. He took note of the absence of a nearby gym, a realization that left him pondering the necessity of one in the villas. The thought of driving nearly an hour to the nearest gym was less than appealing. In his mind, he made a mental note to suggest the idea of installing a home gym to his father.

Wonwoo decided to embrace the morning with a run, clad in his workout attire. A bit of cardio seemed like a good idea to invigorate his senses. After lacing up his running shoes, he embarked on a journey through the village that had nurtured his childhood. Memories blossomed like flowers in his mind as he inhaled deeply, savoring the sights of his hometown. Passing by his old elementary school, he couldn't help but notice the renovations that had taken place over the years. Yet, a single red-painted swing held a sweet memory of his childhood crush and the innocent moments they had shared. A fond chuckle escaped him as he reminisced about those bygone days, wondering where that childhood crush might be now. He encountered an older woman he remembered from his youth, an auntie who used to sell fish in the local market. She stood out with her distinctive presence, her husband and son working as fishermen in another district. The memories of her warm smile flooded back, reminding him of the simpler times.

Wonwoo greeted the woman, and to his surprise, she remembered him and even mentioned his father's name. Her kind offer of breakfast was met with a polite decline, as he wished to continue his exploration of the village. She assured him that her daughter would deliver food later and extended an invitation to her home should he need anything. His stroll led him to the field where he had spent countless hours playing football with his friends. Memories of his cheerful and outgoing childhood self surfaced, leaving him pondering how he had changed over the years.

"Jeon Wonwoo?" a familiar voice called out, breaking him from his reverie.

He turned to find Park Giyong, one of his closest childhood friends from elementary and junior high school, standing before him. Even though they had stayed in touch during his visits to his hometown, it had been nearly five years since they had last met. The loss of contact had been due to Wonwoo misplacing his smartphone, and their reunions were usually in Seoul, where Giyong was pursuing his medical degree at Seoul University. However, since Giyong had returned to Mujeom-ri to establish his own clinic, they had drifted apart. Wonwoo's morning jog suddenly became more enjoyable with Giyong's company.

After an hour of reminiscing about old times, Wonwoo returned to his villa. He planned to enjoy a cup of instant coffee he had purchased from a convenience store earlier and dive into one of the several books he had brought along. As he prepared to settle in for his reading session, a woman entered the lawn, holding a pack of food containers.

"My mother sent me to bring you this," she said, referring to the promised meal.

An overwhelming sense of gratitude washed over Wonwoo at the kindness he had already encountered. He thanked the woman and introduced himself. She confessed that she recognized him from their shared school days and even mentioned that she enjoyed watching his dramas. Sometimes, Wonwoo forgot that he was a celebrity.

He learned that her name was Yeonju and expressed his gratitude once again. Out of friendliness, he invited her to join him for breakfast, but she declined, explaining that she had already eaten and had to work as an elementary school teacher at his former school. Wonwoo bid her farewell, promising to return the empty containers to her mother's house later.

Wonwoo's gaze fixated on the smaller cottage next door, memories of the previous night replaying vividly in his mind. "I locked her outside. I haven't formally apologized," he mused, a weight of regret settling in his chest. His attention shifted to the sumptuous spread before him. Should he share?

A flurry of uncertainties raced through his thoughts. "What if she's already eaten? What if this isn't to her taste?" The questions echoed, filling the room with their unresolved tension.

Summoning a resolute breath, he spoke aloud, a determined whisper, "Just try it, Jeon Wonwoo." The words hung in the air, a silent promise to himself. He rose from his seat, each step towards the neighboring door measured and deliberate.

With a hesitant hand, he knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet air. The weight of his actions settled on his shoulders, a mixture of apprehension and hope coursing through his veins. The seconds that followed seemed to stretch into eternity, a suspended moment of anticipation.

The door creaked open just a crack, revealing a woman with disheveled hair and sleep-heavy eyes. Wonwoo could only catch a glimpse of her sleepy visage. He cleared his throat, his voice still heavy with the remnants of sleep.

"Um, good morning," he began, his words stumbling slightly. "I was wondering if you'd like to have breakfast together? I thought it might be a nice way to make up for last night."

She blinked, struggling to process his words through the fog of sleep. After a moment, she seemed to register his request, and she nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

With that agreement, she gently closed the door, leaving Wonwoo in quiet anticipation. The seconds stretched into minutes, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, she emerged, transformed. Her hair was now neatly combed, and her attire, though simple, exuded a fresh and lively air.

Wonwoo couldn't help but admire the remarkable change, his own gratitude and admiration evident in the softness of his gaze. They exchanged a tentative smile, a shared understanding of this simple yet profoundly meaningful gesture. Together, they headed towards the table, the air tinged with a newfound sense of camaraderie.

"A grandmother I know sent this, and I thought it would be good to share with a neighbor," he explained, a gentle warmth in his voice, as they both settled into their seats.

"I'm Wonwoo, Jeon Wonwoo," he offered with a friendly smile, extending his hand in introduction.

"Kang Y/n," she replied, her voice a soft whisper, reciprocating the gesture with a polite bow.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Wonwoo insisted, graciously inviting Y/n to feel at ease.

As they sat across from each other, a delicate dance of courtesy and curiosity filled the air. Wonwoo's gaze lingered on Y/n, captivated by the grace with which she approached her meal. Her movements were deliberate yet unhurried, each bite savored with a quiet appreciation. When she looked up, her perceptive eyes met Wonwoo's, a gentle curiosity in her expression as if she could sense the depth of his observation.

"Is there something on my face?" she asked, her voice carrying a touch of amusement. Her fingers delicately patted her cheeks, checking for any stray crumbs.

Wonwoo couldn't help but chuckle softly, touched by her awareness. "No, nothing at all," he reassured, a warm smile gracing his lips.

"Actually, I was the one who locked the gate last night," Wonwoo confessed as he raised his spoon and dived into his meal.

A faint blush dusted Y/n's cheeks. "Ah, I'm sorry for last night. I lost track of time in library. I must have interrupted your sleep," she said, a hint of regret in her voice.

Wonwoo quickly shook his head. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't know that someone was occupying the house next door," he explained, his tone earnest.

Y/n hummed in understanding, nodding her head. "I was informed that the owner's son would be joining in a few days. It must be you," she said with a warm smile, reaching for her food.

"It must have been difficult for you... umm... jumping over the fence," Wonwoo added gently, referring to what he had witnessed the night before. Y/n's reaction was immediate, a surprised laugh escaping her lips, only to be followed by a fit of coughing.

Wonwoo, a bit flustered, hurriedly rose and went inside to fetch water. As he stood in his kitchen, he realized he hadn't installed tap water yet. He grabbed the grocery bag he had bought earlier, relieved to find several bottles of mineral water.

Returning to the table, he offered one to Y/n. "Here," he said, his concern evident in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I should have had this ready."

Y/n accepted the water with gratitude, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and appreciation. "Thank you, Wonwoo. You really didn't have to do this."

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his gaze. "It's no trouble at all. I want you to feel comfortable here."

As they settled back into their meal, the atmosphere around them seemed to soften. The initial awkwardness had given way to a shared understanding.

"How long are you going to stay?" Wonwoo wondered aloud, realizing he hadn't given much thought to the duration of his hiatus. He had informed his agency that this would be his longest break since his military service, but how long, exactly? A month? Maybe more?

"I don't know yet, maybe a month or two? How about you? How long have you been staying here?" Wonwoo inquired, genuinely interested in learning more about his newfound companion.

"This is my third week. Maybe two more. I couldn't leave my work for that long," Y/n explained, her laughter dancing lightly in the air. It was clear she was a dedicated professional.

"What do you do?" he inquired, his words punctuated by a bite of food. Wonwoo was aware that talking with one's mouth full wasn't the best habit, but curiosity had gotten the better of him.

"I teach at a university in Seoul," she replied, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

Wonwoo's eyes widened in surprise. "You're a professor?" He asked, admiration lacing his voice. Y/n nodded with a humble smile, the kind that spoke volumes about her character. She wasn't the type to boast about her impressive profession.

"How about you? What do you do?"

As Y/n's question hung in the air, it caused a palpable pause in the conversation. Wonwoo's gaze turned thoughtful, realizing that she hadn't recognized him. This revelation stirred a distinct sense of intrigue within him. After all, he was a familiar face on screens, effortlessly slipping into roles as villains, businessmen, and detectives. Encounters with people who were oblivious to his public persona were indeed rare, and this anomaly struck him as decidedly captivating.

"I..." Wonwoo began, his voice carrying a touch of uncertainty, as though he were carefully navigating unfamiliar territory. "I work in the entertainment industry. Specifically, in the movie industry," he explained, choosing brevity over embellishment. Y/n acknowledged his response with a nod, not pressing for further details.

Yet, this moment of revelation only fueled Wonwoo's curiosity further. It wasn't often he had the opportunity to engage with someone who approached him without the weight of his public image. This unexpected encounter held the promise of unfolding in ways he hadn't anticipated, adding an unexpected layer of depth to their burgeoning connection.

Wonwoo's steady breaths puffed out in white clouds as he slowed to a halt, his jog complete. His phone, nestled snugly in his pocket, hummed with urgency. With a quirked brow, he plucked it out, revealing a call from his ever-busy manager. A hint of amusement danced in his eyes at the thought of what could warrant such a sudden update.

"Hello," he greeted warmly, his voice a soothing balm over the line.

His manager wasted no time, diving into the updates. Wonwoo leaned against a nearby tree, listening intently. It was heartening to hear that the actor's career was still making waves in the industry. But as the conversation swayed, Wonwoo took a moment to share a personal triumph.

"I've been reconnecting with old friends from my hometown," he informed, a touch of nostalgia coloring his words. "It's been a wonderful experience."

Then, a request surfaced in his mind, something he'd been mulling over for a while. "I was thinking... could we make a formal announcement about my hiatus? I have a project in mind—a little library for the kids in the village. It would mean a lot to me."

His manager's voice buzzed with activity. "I'll get in touch with PR. They're swamped, you know how it is. By the way, did you hear about Hong Jisoo? Married and divorced, all in secret. The whole industry's in a frenzy."

Wonwoo nodded, his expression thoughtful. He knew Hong Jisoo, though they'd never shared a scene. Their paths often crossed at award ceremonies, a testament to the longevity of their careers. Marriage, especially early on, wasn't uncommon in their world. Divorce, however, bore its own weight of sorrow.

"Alright, no rush on my end," Wonwoo assured, his tone empathetic. "Thanks for keeping me in the loop. Take care, hyung!"

As the call ended, Wonwoo's gaze swept across the tranquil scenery, the village he held dear. His name danced on the breeze, a familiar voice that turned his head. There stood Giyong, clad in a tracksuit, an image of comfort and familiarity. A genuine smile graced Wonwoo's lips, warmth and respect radiating in his eyes as they met the gaze of the Mr. Doctor.

"Good to see you," Wonwoo greeted, extending a hand in greeting. The stories and connections of their shared hometown were threads that bound them, making this meeting all the more special.

"Have you ever met the woman next door to mine?" Wonwoo inquired, his curiosity piqued after their discussion about the government library miles away from the village.

Giyong's brow arched in thought. "She's still around? I crossed paths with her weeks ago, but I assumed she'd moved on by now," he explained, a hint of surprise in his tone. "Seems like she keeps to herself."

Wonwoo nodded in understanding, absorbing Giyong's words. The quiet presence of the neighbor next door suddenly held a touch more intrigue.

"About the library, come by my office after lunch. I'll be happy to accompany you for a visit," Giyong offered, his voice warm and supportive.

As the clock hand swept towards 1 pm, Wonwoo stood before the mirror, giving himself a final once-over. Today was a day of plans and purpose. First, a visit to Giyong's office, where they'd discuss the logistics of the library project. Then, an observation trip to the existing library, an essential step in crafting a space that truly catered to the village's children. Giyong had also hinted at a discussion with the village head, emphasizing the seriousness of Wonwoo's endeavor. The thought of his father's potential support buoyed his determination.

Stepping outside, Wonwoo's gaze naturally fell upon Y/n's door. He hadn't seen her today. The memory of their last encounter flashed in his mind—it was yesterday night, her returning with a stack of books in hand. Could it be, he wondered, that she was involved with the local library as well?

Wonwoo stepped into Giyong's office, only to find himself in a professional medical clinic, complete with a pharmacy and a bustling staff. The revelation that Giyong was not just a doctor, but a savvy businessman as well, caught him off guard. Giyong's explanation about his alternating shifts, to accommodate his childhood best friend, resonated with a deep sense of friendship and dedication. Wonwoo could only chuckle at the revelation as they made their way towards the library.

"It's quite a distance from the school, isn't it?" Wonwoo observed, prompting a nod from Giyong. Memories of the old library near the fish market resurfaced, a cherished place from his past that had unfortunately met its end due to land ownership issues.

Inside the library, they were greeted warmly by the staff, their mission for children's books met with helpful suggestions.

"These books are mostly classics, a bit on the older side," Giyong explained, brows furrowed in concentration as he assessed the collection. Wonwoo nodded in understanding, selecting one of the books that had once transported him to childhood adventures. A warm smile tugged at his lips, memories flooding back.

"We'll need to invest in a good number of popular and newer books. How many are we talking? At least fifty, I'd say!" Giyong exclaimed, his own mental tally underway. He went on to inform Wonwoo about the escalating costs of children's books, a reality that hadn't escaped their notice.

As they delved deeper into their discussion, Wonwoo's gaze wandered through the aisles. There, seated serenely amidst the books with a laptop before her, was Y/n. His smile widened as he approached, the recognition lighting up her features.

"So, you're here every day," Wonwoo remarked, causing her to startle slightly. She offered a somewhat awkward smile before closing her book, her attention now fully on him.

"I've been here since morning. I lost track of time and nearly skipped lunch, so thanks for the reminder," Y/n explained, your tone gracious.

Taking a seat beside Y/n, Wonwoo's eyes flitted between the pages of the book and the contents of her laptop. "What are you working on?" he asked, genuine interest in his tone.

"Just reading a book and working on a paper. It was a pleasant surprise to find this book here," She shared. Wonwoo's eyes fell upon the title, Library Classification History, a wry amusement dancing in his eyes. "Is it related to what you teach?" he inquired, intrigued.

Y/n nodded. "I teach Library and Information Science," she revealed.

Wonwoo couldn't help but chuckle, marveling at the serendipity of it all. He, wanting to establish a library, had met her—a specialist in the very field. It was a coincidence too perfect to be ignored.

"In fact," he began, a glint of excitement in his eyes, "I'm planning to create a small library on the first floor of my place."

Y/n's interest was piqued, and shenodded in encouragement, eager to hear more about his vision. Wonwoo called Giyong who is still drawned by the book. He friendly introduced Giyoung to Y/n and vice versa.

"Indeed, she's a professor. She teaches library science," Wonwoo informed Giyong, watching as the revelation left the man visibly taken aback.

"What a twist of fate," Giyong mused, a sentiment that Wonwoo readily echoed. The synchronicity of their meeting with you, a professor in the very field they were diving into, seemed almost too perfectly timed.

As Wonwoo went on to explain the vision of creating a small library for the village's children, his words carried a blend of earnestness and passion. It was a plan woven with care, a promise to provide the young minds in the village with a sanctuary of knowledge and imagination.

"I can still recall how much Wonwoo adored reading as a child. It's no wonder he feels so strongly about ensuring kids today have the same access to books," Giyong reflected, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. He spoke of moments from their shared past, of glimpses caught of a young Wonwoo engrossed in books in class or within the hallowed halls of a library.

Meanwhile, Y/n sat in quiet contemplation, the weight of the proposition hanging in the air. She considered the potential impact of her brief stay in this time, wondering if it could lend a helping hand in bringing this dream to fruition—a small library, a beacon of knowledge for the children of the village.

"What can I do to assist?" Her inquiry broke the thoughtful silence, drawing a radiant smile across Wonwoo's face. It was a question that held the promise of collaboration, a joining of hands to shape a future of enriched minds and shared stories.

The days had been a whirlwind for Wonwoo, Y/n, Giyong, and Youngmi. Wonwoo's strategic move to enlist Youngmi's help as an elementary teacher had paid off, granting them invaluable insights into the needs of their young audience. With Giyong and Youngmi juggling their own demanding schedules, the lion's share of the preparations fell upon Wonwoo and Y/n. Wonwoo, his sleeves rolled up, threw himself into the renovation project, determined to transform the first floor into a space worthy of being called a small library. Meanwhile, Y/n delved into research, meticulously curating a collection that would captivate and educate young minds.

As the day waned, Youngmi's departure marked the beginning of a quiet evening. With her mother's thoughtful gesture, the duo received a comforting late-night snack and a steaming cup of green tea. After bidding Youngmi farewell, the room settled into a hushed intimacy, the soft glow of a nearby lamp casting gentle shadows.

"Let's take a moment to rest," Wonwoo suggested, carefully placing his paint-splattered equipment aside. On the other side of the room, Y/n set down the tablet that had commanded her attention since morning. She stretched languidly, every movement exuding a feline grace. Approaching Wonwoo, she joined him, both eager to indulge in the late-night sustenance.

The atmosphere was one of contented exhaustion, the weight of their efforts easing as they shared this quiet interlude. Wonwoo's chuckle mingled with the soothing rhythm of their breaths, a testament to the camaraderie that had grown between them.

In this stolen moment of respite, the small library project seemed to take on a new glow of promise. It was more than just a renovation or a collection of books; it was a labor of love, a beacon of learning, and a testament to the power of community.

"Have you thought about the name?" Y/n's voice, though gentle, held a touch of curiosity, breaking the tranquil stillness that had settled around them.

Wonwoo considered her question, his gaze momentarily drifting towards the space they had poured their hearts into. "I have a name in mind, but I'd like to discuss it with everyone first," he explained, a warm smile gracing his lips as he turned to meet her eyes. The prospect of naming their collective creation felt like a pivotal moment, a decision that would forever define its essence.

"Would you mind sharing it?" Y/n inquired, her interest piqued.

Wonwoo's gaze held a contemplative glint, as if weighing the significance of the choice. Finally, he spoke, "Healing Hues."

Y/n's smile bloomed, her eyes bright with approval. "I like it. Being here feels like a kind of healing," she remarked, her voice carrying a soft sincerity that resonated with the quietude of their surroundings. Her sentiment hung in the air, a testament to the comfort their small library promised to offer.

Wonwoo nodded in agreement, a sense of gratification settling within him. "I spent a long time contemplating the paint colors. I wanted them to embody the essence of the name. I believe they do," he shared, pride and certainty lacing his words. The choice of soothing blue and vibrant yellow felt like an apt representation of the healing they aspired to bring.

"They complement each other beautifully. You've done a remarkable job," Y/n praised, her admiration evident. Her words were a balm to Wonwoo's dedicated efforts, validating the careful thought he'd invested in every detail.

Wonwoo's smile widened, a mixture of gratitude and pride lighting up his features. "Thank you, Y/n. Your contribution has been invaluable. Your help means the world to me," he expressed, his words carrying a depth of appreciation for the partnership they'd formed in this endeavor.

"Why Healing Hues, though?" Y/n's curiosity shimmered in her eyes as she asked about the chosen name, her intrigue giving voice to the question that hung in the quiet space.

Wonwoo, seated beside her in the cozy corner of the library, considered her question. He let out a casual shrug, as if the answer was simple, though layered with personal significance. "It might sound a bit cliché," he began, his voice carrying the weight of genuine sentiment, "but when I arrived here, I was coming from a place of utter exhaustion. This place became a source of healing for me. Reconnecting with everyone from my childhood, meeting you, and realizing the dream of creating a small library—it all coalesced into a sense of healing. For the first time in a long while, the colors of my life felt harmonious and whole."

Wonwoo's explanation was delivered with a calmness that belied the depth of feeling behind his words. In his eyes, there was a hint of reminiscence, a fleeting recollection of the hectic days and the monotony that had once defined his existence just a week ago. But now, those memories seemed to have faded, replaced by the vibrant hues of happiness and purpose that colored his days in his hometown.

The library around them seemed to bask in the warmth of Wonwoo's words, as if it too understood the significance of the name chosen. The air was charged with a sense of quiet contentment, the space itself bearing witness to the transformation that had taken root within its walls.

Y/n listened, the weight of Wonwoo's words settling in her heart. It was a name that now held a profound meaning, one that she knew would resonate not just with them, but with anyone who stepped through the doors of Healing Hues. In that moment, she felt the power of names, how they could encapsulate the essence of something greater, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for being a part of this journey.

The morning sun streamed through the windows, painting the room with a warm glow. Giyong's cheerful voice roused Wonwoo from his slumber, a gentle nudge to action amidst the promise of a busy day ahead. Wonwoo blinked away the remnants of sleep, realizing he'd drifted off on the couch after a night of painting the entire room.

As he stirred, a comforting weight pressed against his shoulder, reminding him of Y/n, who had fallen asleep beside him, equally exhausted from their efforts. Her peaceful slumber painted a serene picture against the backdrop of their fledgling library.

Giyong entered the room, accompanied by a few helpers carrying stalls that would soon hold the carefully curated collection of books. Wonwoo, still rousing himself fully, turned his attention to Y/n, gently shaking her to rouse her from her rest. "Morning already," he whispered, a fond smile gracing his lips as she shifted to a more comfortable position, her head no longer resting on his shoulder.

The arrival of the stalls had happened faster than expected, a pleasant surprise for the duo. Giyong explained that the specific table they had been looking for was still in production, prompting him to order a similar one. He couldn't hide his relief that the color matched seamlessly with the rest of the room.

With the stalls in place, Giyong spoke of the imminent soft opening, his eyes briefly landing on Y/n, the dedicated curator of their book collection, who still asleep. She had worked tirelessly to ensure that each selection met Wonwoo's approval, carefully crafting a library that would captivate and educate young readers. The initial collection included 25 children's books, a blend of encyclopedias and stories, alongside 15 books tailored for older readers. Y/n had finalized the order late into the night, her commitment unwavering.

Giyong couldn't help but tease, "She's worked even harder than you, I'd say," his tone light and teasing. Wonwoo simply nodded in agreement, a smile playing on his lips. He was too drained from their collective efforts to engage in playful banter. The room buzzed with an air of anticipation, each piece falling into place, culminating in the realization that their dream of Healing Hues was on the verge of becoming a reality.

"Let's have a quick meeting after this to discuss the soft opening agenda," Wonwoo proposed, excusing himself to the second floor for a moment of reprieve and rejuvenation.

As he returned, the scent of seafood pancake wafted through the air, a tempting invitation from Youngmi's breakfast. He couldn't resist asking, "Can I have some of this?" before indulging in the morning meal.

He found Giyong and Youngmi settled on the couch, waiting for him. However, Y/n was conspicuously absent. Concern pricked at Wonwoo's senses, and he inquired, "Where's Y/n?"

Youngmi promptly explained, "She's outside, taking a phone call," before they delved into the meeting.

They decided on a soft opening with a beach vacation theme, a concept that promised both relaxation and exploration for their guests. Youngmi suggested a personality test to recommend books, a touch that added a personal connection to the experience. When Y/n eventually joined the meeting, she readily agreed with the proposals and offered her assistance.

Yet, even as discussions flowed, Wonwoo's gaze kept returning to Y/n. He sensed a shift in her demeanor, an unspoken weight that seemed to settle upon her since that phone call. It troubled him, an unspoken concern nagging at the edges of his thoughts.

"Y/n, could you take care of the food?" Giyong suggested, drawing Y/n's attention. The idea was met with unanimous agreement, and the meeting concluded swiftly as Giyong and Youngmi headed off to work.

Left alone, Wonwoo couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. When Y/n made a quiet exit, he moved to stop her. "Is everything alright? Did something happen?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry, his eyes searching for answers in her gaze.

Y/n's response was measured, her voice calm but carrying a hint of weariness. "Nothing. Just tired."

Wonwoo, respecting her need for space, didn't press further. He gently reminded her of their evening meeting with the others, watching as she nodded and made her way home in haste.

As Wonwoo watched Y/n depart, a gnawing worry settled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that something weighed heavily on her mind. Her usually serene demeanor had been replaced by a quiet reserve, leaving him with a sense of unease.

He recalled the phone call that had preceded this shift in Y/n's demeanor. The suddenness of her withdrawal from the meeting, coupled with her distant expression, left him with a growing concern. What could have transpired in that conversation to cast such a shadow over her typically composed demeanor?

Wonwoo knew Y/n to be a private person, but this was different. This was a shift in her usual disposition, a veil drawn over the window to her thoughts and emotions. It left him feeling powerless, aching to reach out and offer comfort, yet hesitant to intrude on what might be a deeply personal matter.

The bond they had formed through their shared project and the days spent working together had fostered a sense of camaraderie. He cared for Y/n's well-being, not just as a collaborator, but as a friend. Her sudden change in behavior tugged at his heart, leaving him torn between respecting her privacy and wanting to be there for her.

As the day unfolded, Wonwoo found his thoughts frequently returning to Y/n. He couldn't shake the worry that lingered, a subtle undercurrent to the day's activities. He hoped that their evening meeting would provide an opportunity for Y/n to open up, if she felt inclined to do so.

Wonwoo's heart dropped at the sight that met his eyes. Y/n stood before him, her once vibrant complexion now drained of color, cold sweat glistening on her forehead. She looked as though she could barely stand. Before he could utter a word, she collapsed to the floor, her strength failing her.

"You're burning," Wonwoo murmured, a mix of concern and panic surging through him. Without hesitation, he reached for his phone, dialing Giyong's number in a frantic hurry. He relayed Y/n's condition, the urgency in his voice apparent. Giyong, on the other end, instructed him to bring Y/n to his clinic immediately.

With great care, Wonwoo lifted Y/n into his arms. He carried her to his car, the urgency of the situation propelling him forward. The drive to Giyong's clinic felt like an eternity, every passing second amplifying his worry.

Giyong was already at the clinic, preparing to leave for the night. He quickly assessed Y/n's condition, confirming that she was indeed suffering from exhaustion and dehydration, which had led to her dangerously high temperature and overall burnout.

"Is she going to be okay?" Wonwoo's voice trembled with concern, his eyes locked onto Y/n, who lay on the examination table.

Giyong met Wonwoo's gaze, offering a reassuring but solemn explanation of her condition. "She'll need to stay here for IV treatment. She should be able to go home tomorrow morning. You did the right thing checking on her when you did. Her condition could have worsened if left unattended."

Wonwoo nodded, a mixture of relief and lingering worry washing over him. He knew that they had caught this just in time, but the sight of Y/n in such a vulnerable state was a stark reminder of the importance of taking care of oneself.

After Giyong reassured him that Y/n was in capable hands, Wonwoo left the clinic, the weight of worry still clinging to him. He returned to the house, his steps heavy with concern. As he approached Y/n's door, he remembered the urgency of the situation earlier and realized it was still unlocked. He extended a hand, preparing to secure it, when a sound from within caught his attention.

A faint ringing echoed in the quiet of the house, originating from Y/n's phone. His mind raced back to that morning, to the phone call that seemed to have brought about such a drastic change in her condition. Could this call be the cause of her sudden illness? Wonwoo wondered, a knot of unease forming in his chest.

Unable to ignore the persistent ringing, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. The scene that greeted him weighed heavily on his heart. Y/n's phone lay on the coffee table in front of the couch, its screen displaying the caller ID: 'Jisoo,' accompanied by a white love emoji. Wonwoo's brows furrowed with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Was Jisoo someone significant in Y/n's life? The thought passed fleetingly through Wonwoo's mind, leaving him uncertain about how to proceed.

He opted not to answer the call, feeling that it wasn't his place to do so. As the call ended, he couldn't help but notice the numerous missed calls from the same number. A quick glance at the screen revealed several unread messages, evidence of Jisoo's persistent attempts to reach Y/n.

Wonwoo hesitated, unsure of what to make of this new piece of information. It was clear that Jisoo held some importance in Y/n's life, but the nature of their relationship remained a mystery.

The phone screen illuminated with a cascade of messages from Jisoo, each one more forceful and accusatory than the last. Wonwoo's heart quickened its pace, startled by the sudden intensity of the conversation he inadvertently stumbled upon between Y/n and this person named Jisoo. The tone of the messages sent a shiver down Wonwoo's spine, a mixture of concern and unease prickling at his senses. What could possibly be transpiring to elicit such a charged exchange?

Another call punctuated the quiet, a shrill ring that signaled a persistent urgency. Wonwoo's determination solidified. He couldn't bear the thought of Y/n being embroiled in this apparent turmoil alone. With a steady resolve, he accepted the call, mentally preparing himself for the confrontation that awaited on the other end of the line.

"Where are you? We need to talk!" Jisoo's voice crackled through the phone, urgency dripping from every syllable. Wonwoo's disapproval of this person, whoever he was, surged with each passing second. He couldn't fathom how anyone could address Y/n with such forcefulness.

"Answer me! My career is on the edge! Don't you dare to run away!" Jisoo's words thundered through the line, carrying an undercurrent of frustration and desperation. Wonwoo closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath to brace himself against the torrent of anger. The waves of intensity emanating from the conversation were almost suffocating..

Wonwoo held his ground, his voice steady and composed, determined to navigate this unfamiliar territory with a clear head. When Jisoo demanded to know who he was, Wonwoo responded with a calm assurance that hinted at his resolve. The seconds that followed held a tangible tension, as if the air itself was bracing for what would come next. Jisoo's reply carried a blend of both curiosity and suspicion, a clear indication that he was deeply invested in the situation.

The back-and-forth continued, with Jisoo pressing for more information. "Who's this? Why is a man picking up Y/n's phone? Who are you?" Each question was laced with a growing intensity, revealing the gravity of the situation that had prompted Jisoo's concern.

Wonwoo weighed his words carefully, opting to disclose only what was necessary. "I'm her neighbor," he stated evenly, offering a concise explanation. He didn't want to overstep boundaries or divulge more than was appropriate, respecting Y/n's privacy while still conveying the urgency of the situation.

There was a discernible shift in Jisoo's tone, the frustration that had been simmering now mingling with a genuine concern. "Just tell her to call me once she checks her phone." The edge of urgency in Jisoo's voice was impossible to ignore, revealing a complex mix of emotions that hinted at the depth of his connection with Y/n.

As the call ended, Wonwoo couldn't shake the sense of unease that settled in his chest. He was now entangled in a situation he didn't fully understand, but his priority was clear: ensuring Y/n's well-being. He resolved to be there for her, to offer support in whatever way she needed, even if it meant delving into the complexities of her personal life. The weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders, but he was determined to face whatever came their way.

"Sorry, I caused you inconvenience," Y/n mumbled softly as they both settled into the car. Wonwoo couldn't help but chuckle, his warm laughter filling the space between them. With a gentle hand, he turned the key in the ignition, the engine humming to life. "Is it okay if I take you somewhere before we head home?" Wonwoo asked, motioning for Y/n to fasten her seat belt.

Y/n nodded, a shy smile gracing her lips. "But can we grab something to eat first?" Her request was met with an immediate nod of agreement from Wonwoo.

After a brief stop to satisfy their hunger, they continued their drive, heading toward a destination known only to Wonwoo. Y/n leaned back in her seat, allowing herself to be enveloped by the soothing motion of the car. The gentle warmth of the sun kissed her skin, and she closed her eyes, savoring the moment.

Wonwoo stole a glance at her, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached to adjust the controls, smoothly retracting the roof of the car. The world outside stretched before them, an expansive canvas of beauty and serenity. Y/n's laughter danced through the air, a testament to her genuine delight at the unexpected surprise. Wonwoo found himself captivated, not only by the breathtaking view but also by the vibrancy that seemed to radiate from Y/n in this moment, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere of the night before.

As they continued their journey, Y/n's curiosity got the better of her. "Where are we going?" she inquired, her eyes filled with wonder and anticipation. She was open to whatever adventure awaited, as long as it offered a spectacle for her eyes to behold.

Wonwoo pointed towards the expanse of ocean that stretched out in the distance. "We're going to the beach," he revealed, a spark of excitement mirrored in Y/n's eyes.

"It's been a long time since the last time I went to the beach," Y/n confessed, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

As the car glided along the road, Wonwoo stole glances at Y/n, watching her eyes light up with the prospect of the beach. Her excitement was palpable, and it filled him with a quiet sense of contentment. He was grateful for the opportunity to share this moment with her, to witness her rediscovering the simple joys of life.

The wind tousled their hair, carrying with it the scent of saltwater and the soothing sounds of the sea. Wonwoo's own spirits were lifted by the sight of Y/n's animated expressions. Her presence beside him was like a breath of fresh air, a reminder of the beauty that could be found in the world, even in the midst of uncertainty.

The car came to a gentle stop, and they both stepped out onto the warm sand. Y/n kicked off her shoes, letting the grains sift between her toes. Wonwoo followed suit, relishing the sensation of the soft sand beneath his feet. The rhythmic crash of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to their surroundings.

Wonwoo watched Y/n with a mixture of fondness and admiration. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon, her features softened by a serene smile. It was a moment of quiet reflection, a respite from the chaos of the outside world.

As the sun painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, Wonwoo couldn't shake the subtle turmoil churning within him. He watched Y/n, her presence a calming force against the backdrop of the serene beach. It was in moments like these that he found himself drawn to her in a way he couldn't quite put into words.

Confusion tugged at the edges of Wonwoo's thoughts. He was no stranger to the intricacies of human emotions, but this felt different. It was a gentle tug, a quiet whisper of something unspoken. He wrestled with the unfamiliarity of it all, grappling with the realization that his feelings for Y/n went beyond mere friendship or neighborly concern.

He stole another glance at Y/n, her silhouette etched against the fading daylight. She seemed to belong to this tranquil moment, a part of the natural beauty that surrounded them. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring them here, to this beach, at this precise moment in time.

Wonwoo stood at the edge of the shore, the briny scent of the sea filling his senses, each breath a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. His gaze, tender yet uncertain, lingered on Y/n. There was a delicate warmth that surged within him, a revelation that both unsettled and strangely comforted him.

Turning to her, he began, his voice a soft melody tinged with vulnerability, "Y/n, there's something I need to tell you."

Y/n, her eyes pools reflecting the twilight's fading embrace, met his gaze with a gentleness that seemed to bridge the expanse between their souls. A profound understanding flowed in the silent exchange, words unnecessary yet the connection profound.

Steady, yet carrying the weight of his heart, Wonwoo continued, "Last night, while you were at the clinic, a call came through on your phone. The caller was named Jisoo. The messages and the call log... they held an air of urgency."

Y/n's eyes widened slightly, her mind processing the revelation. A fleeting worry etched across her features as she retrieved her phone from Wonwoo's outstretched hand. With furrowed brows, she scrolled through the messages and call history, each line a testament to a history she had kept veiled.

"He's... someone from my past," Y/n confessed, her voice carrying the echoes of reluctance and resignation. "We were once close, but things changed. Something bad happened, and he need someone to bear the weight of blame."

Wonwoo nodded, a profound understanding washing over him. He could feel the tapestry of emotions woven into Y/n's being, the intricate threads of their shared history. Reaching out, he rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, an unspoken promise of solidarity.

"You don't have to face this alone," he reassured, sincerity filling the air between them. "Whatever path you choose, I stand by your side."

Y/n met his gaze, a shimmer of gratitude and relief dancing in her eyes. Her hand found its place atop his, an unspoken affirmation of trust and the blossoming bond that held them together.

And as the day surrendered to the night, they stood, two souls joined in a quiet understanding, their hearts harmonizing with the ceaseless rhythm of the waves. The horizon blazed with the last embers of sunlight, casting a warm, golden hue over the sands. Together, Wonwoo and Y/n embraced the uncertain future, fortified by the strength they found in each other's presence.

Wonwoo and Y/n returned home well past sunset. Giyong and Youngmi were patiently waiting, meticulously preparing containers for the snacks destined for tomorrow's soft opening. As Giyong rose from his seat to accept the grocery box from Y/n, concern laced his voice as he inquired about her well-being. "You weren't at clinic when I arrived this morning," he expressed, worry etched in his features.

Y/n responded with a warm smile, touched by the genuine care from everyone. Giyong, in turn, informed her of the arrival of the books, eager to see them find their place on the shelves. Youngmi, however, interjected, playfully scolding his use of the term 'decorated' when it came to books, emphasizing their purpose beyond mere ornamentation.

Suddenly, Giyong's tone shifted, a note of unexpected seriousness entering his voice. "By the way, can we talk after this? I have something to say," he asked Y/n, catching her off guard. It was a rare occurrence for Giyong to seek a private conversation with her. Meanwhile, Wonwoo observed the exchange, his gaze flicking between the two of them. He held back the urge to pry into Giyong's intentions, his lips pressed into a tight line.

In the midst of it all, a question lingered, unspoken yet palpable: Wasn't Wonwoo the only one harboring feelings for Y/n?

As the evening unfolded, the room gradually emptied, leaving only Wonwoo and Youngmi in its quiet embrace. The air held a certain tension, a subtle undercurrent of unspoken thoughts.

Youngmi, perceptive as ever, cleared her throat gently before speaking. "Wonwoo, can we talk for a moment?" Her voice was gentle, inviting, yet tinged with a hint of concern.

Wonwoo nodded, his gaze shifting from the empty chairs to Youngmi. He could sense the weight of the conversation to come, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation settling in his chest. "Of course, Youngmi. What's on your mind?" he asked, his tone steady.

She hesitated for a moment, choosing her words with care. "It's about you and Y/n," she began, her eyes meeting his with a searching intensity. "I've noticed... there seems to be something more between you two. Am I right?"

Wonwoo's heart skipped a beat, the question hanging in the air. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, the truth too important to evade. "Yes, Youngmi," he admitted, his voice measured. "I've developed feelings for Y/n. But I also value our friendship and want what's best for her."

Youngmi's expression softened, understanding and empathy in her eyes. "I appreciate your honesty, Wonwoo. It's not an easy situation for any of you."

He nodded, gratitude for her understanding washing over him. "I just want her to be happy," he confessed, his voice carrying the weight of his sincerity.

Youngmi's reassuring touch on Wonwoo's arm provided a steadying anchor in the midst of swirling emotions. Her gaze held a mixture of understanding and kindness, a testament to the depth of their friendship.

"I want to assure you, Wonwoo, that Giyong's concern for Y/n is solely rooted in care for her well-being," Youngmi began, her voice warm and sincere. "He's like a brother to her, and he only wants to see her happy and healthy. There's no hidden agenda, I promise."

Wonwoo's tense shoulders eased slightly, the weight of uncertainty gradually lifting. He appreciated Youngmi's candidness, a lifeline of clarity in a sea of conflicting emotions. "Thank you, Youngmi," he said, his voice touched with gratitude. "I just want what's best for Y/n, and it's reassuring to know Giyong's intentions are genuine."

Youngmi nodded, her eyes reflecting a shared concern for their friend. "We all do, Wonwoo."

A pang of empathy washed over Youngmi as she considered Y/n's journey, her eyes clouded with a mixture of sorrow and concern. "It breaks my heart to think of what Y/n might have been through, to end up here in this village," she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness. "There must be something that pushed her to leave her previous life behind."

Wonwoo nodded, his own heart heavy with the weight of Y/n's untold story. "I've wondered about that too," he confessed, his gaze distant as he thought of the mysteries shrouding Y/n's past. "She carries a strength that's been forged through adversity, that much is clear."

Youngmi offered a gentle smile, her eyes softening with compassion. "Yes, she does. Yet she carries herself with such grace."

Silence settled between them, a shared understanding of the resilience that defined Y/n's spirit. In that moment, a renewed sense of respect and admiration for their friend blossomed, mingling with the determination to stand by her side, no matter what the future held.

As Y/n and Giyong entered the room, a subtle chill seemed to cling to the air, the weight of unspoken emotions lingering. Youngmi, ever perceptive, decided to break the tension with her effervescent spirit. She greeted them with a wide smile, injecting the room with her characteristic warmth and a light-hearted joke.

"Ah, here comes the dynamic duo, back from their secret mission!" she exclaimed playfully, her laughter dancing through the room.

Y/n's lips curled into a small smile, grateful for Youngmi's attempt to lighten the mood. Giyong, too, cracked a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. The atmosphere slowly began to thaw, replaced by a more comfortable ease.

They set to work organizing the books, arranging them according to the data Y/n had meticulously prepared days prior. Each book found its place on the shelves, a testament to their collective effort and attention to detail.

With the task completed, they gathered together, a sense of accomplishment settling over them. Cans of beer in hand, they raised a toast to their hard work and the promise of a successful soft opening.

The clinking of cans echoed in the room, a chorus of celebration and camaraderie. As they settled into their seats, the coldness that had lingered earlier was replaced by a shared sense of contentment and accomplishment.

As the evening wore on, the cheerful ambiance grew even warmer, fueled by the camaraderie and the liberating influence of the beer. Youngmi's laughter became more carefree, her words flowing with a certain unfiltered honesty.

"You know," she began, her words slightly slurred but her eyes bright, "all my friends are out there, happily married and posting pictures of their babies. And here I am, still single and living my best life!" She let out a peal of laughter, the sound filling the room.

Y/n, Wonwoo, and Giyong exchanged amused glances, touched by Youngmi's candidness. They listened intently, realizing that Youngmi was about to share something deeply personal.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," she continued, her voice lowering slightly. "People have been trying to push me into marriage for years. 'Settle down, find a nice man,' they say. But you know what I dream of?" Her eyes gleamed with a mix of determination and nostalgia. "Continuing my studies abroad, exploring the world, and writing about it!"

Her words hung in the air, a declaration of a dream deferred but not forgotten. There was a poignant sincerity in her voice, a testament to the strength of her convictions.

"And you three..." Youngmi turned to Y/n, Wonwoo, and Giyong, her gaze softening. "Meeting you, it's been a blessing. You've shown me that there's more to life than following the expected path. I'm grateful for each of you."

Her heartfelt confession settled over them, the room filled with a profound sense of connection. Y/n, Wonwoo, and Giyong exchanged smiles, touched by Youngmi's vulnerability and the depth of their friendship.

Giyong's gaze turned reflective, the warm light of the room casting shadows on his face as he spoke. "You know, there was a time when nobody believed I could make it. Even my own parents were skeptical when I chose to study medicine. They thought it was too ambitious, too difficult."

He paused, his eyes distant, as if revisiting those moments of doubt and determination. "But I was determined to prove them wrong. I worked tirelessly, pushing through every obstacle and doubt that came my way."

A quiet sense of pride tinged his voice, a testament to the resilience that had carried him through those challenging years. "And now, I can say that it's paid off. I'm doing what I love, and I can make a difference in people's lives."

Y/n, Wonwoo, and Youngmi listened in rapt attention, deeply moved by Giyong's story of perseverance. They could feel the weight of his journey, the sacrifices he had made to pursue his passion.

"You've achieved so much, Giyong," Wonwoo acknowledged, his voice filled with admiration. "Your dedication and hard work are truly inspiring."

Giyong smiled, a mix of gratitude and contentment lighting up his features. "Thank you, Wonwoo. It hasn't been easy, but every step of the way was worth it."

Giyong's words held a resonance that echoed in the room, a testament to the trials he had faced and overcome. "I've been fortunate in many ways," he continued, his voice steady. "I worked hard in my studies, and with time, I found my footing financially. My career has been a source of fulfillment and purpose."

There was a quiet pride in Giyong's demeanor, a sense of satisfaction in his accomplishments. Yet, a shadow of a deeper truth lingered in his eyes.

"But you know, even with all that, there's this unspoken pressure from society," he admitted, his gaze drifting to the window as if seeking answers in the night sky. "They see success and immediately think it's time to settle down, to get married. As if that's the only measure of a fulfilling life."

Y/n, Wonwoo, and Youngmi listened intently, their hearts heavy with the weight of societal expectations and the complexities that Giyong grappled with.

"It's frustrating, isn't it?" Giyong mused, a hint of frustration in his voice. "To have your worth measured by whether or not you have a spouse. But I've always believed that there's more to life than that, more to define our happiness and fulfillment."

His words hung in the air, a call for a broader perspective on what it meant to lead a meaningful life. Y/n, Wonwoo, and Youngmi nodded in agreement, a shared understanding of the intricacies of societal norms and personal aspirations.

"Wonwoo, do you have anything to say?"

Wonwoo's voice carried a weight of vulnerability as he opened up about his own struggles. "You know, being in the public eye all the time... it's not as glamorous as it might seem," he confessed, his eyes fixed on a distant point. "There's almost no privacy. Every move is scrutinized, every word analyzed. And sometimes, baseless rumors just take on a life of their own."

He sighed, a mixture of resignation and frustration in his tone. "It's a constant contradiction to who I am. I love acting, I love the craft, but the celebrity part... it's not something I enjoy. It's like I have to give up so much just to do what I love."

Y/n, Giyong, and Youngmi listened with empathy, their hearts going out to Wonwoo. They could sense the weight of the expectations that rested on his shoulders, the toll it took on his sense of self.

"I just hope that someday, society can change," Wonwoo continued, his gaze turning back to them. "Stop pushing people into these boxes, these roles that they think we should fit into. There's so much more to a person than what meets the eye."

His words hung in the air, a plea for a world where individual passions and dreams could be pursued without the burden of societal expectations.

In the midst of the gentle hum of conversation, Youngmi's words tumbled out with a certain unfiltered honesty. "I'm really curious about you, Y/n. We've known each other for almost two weeks, but all I know is your name and your job," she babbled, the warmth of the alcohol giving her words a candid edge. Giyong, ever vigilant, attempted to intervene, but Y/n gave him a reassuring nod, signaling that it was alright.

A soft smile graced Y/n's lips, a glimmer of resilience shining through as she began to speak. Her voice held a steady cadence, each word carefully chosen to convey the weight of her experience. Wonwoo, his eyes locked onto hers, became a steady anchor of support, his gaze a pool of unwavering affirmation, absorbing every nuance of her story.

"I was diagnosed to have severe depression when i decided to run away from my life."

As she continued, Y/n's voice wove a tapestry of pain, courage, and the strength it took to overcome. The room seemed to hold its breath, honoring the depth of her vulnerability.

"I was divorced on my third anniversary. My husband... My ex, I loved him, but he cheated on me and wanted to separate," Y/n confessed, her voice carrying the weight of a painful memory. In her eyes, shadows of hurt flickered, a testament to the depth of her past pain. Though tears threatened to spill, she held them back, determined to share her truth.

"I was pregnant for 8 weeks," Y/n revealed, her voice tinged with both sorrow and strength. The weight of her words hung in the air, a somber melody weaving through the room. "I suffered a miscarriage on my way here."

As Y/n spoke, the room seemed to hold its breath, the gravity of her experience palpable. Each word was a testament to the pain she had endured, a fragment of her journey that she bravely shared. The vulnerability in her voice echoed through the room, drawing her friends closer in shared empathy.

Her revelation painted a vivid picture of desperation and heartache. "I rushed to the nearest clinic," she continued, her voice steady despite the emotions churning within her, "desperate to save my child, but it was already too late."

Her revelation hung in the air, the unspoken pain of her loss lingering like a bittersweet melody

"Now, my ex has been terrorizing me," Y/n continued, her voice strained but resolute. Her words hung in the air, a testament to the ongoing struggle she faced. "He believes I'm the one who exposed our relationship to the public, even though it was a secret. He's a popular actor, living his life under the relentless glare of the spotlight."

As Y/n spoke, the weight of her truth settled over the room. Her voice carried the burden of the harassment she endured, painting a vivid picture of the torment she faced. The atmosphere held a mixture of sympathy and anger, a shared determination to stand by her side.

Her voice caught, a lump forming in her throat as she released the emotions that had been bottled up for weeks. It was a moment of raw vulnerability, the unspoken pain of her reality laid bare. "Trust me," she choked out, her words a rallying cry, "being married, having fame, even a stable job... none of it guarantees a life free from obstacles. Life keeps shaping us."

The room fell into a hushed stillness, the weight of Y/n's revelation settling over them like a heavy shroud. Youngmi's eyes glistened with unshed tears, her heart aching for her friend. With a tender determination, she rose from her seat and approached Y/n, enveloping her in a warm, supportive embrace. It was a gesture of solidarity, a silent promise that she wasn't alone in this.

Giyong and Wonwoo exchanged solemn glances, a fire smoldering within them. Y/n's story had unearthed a deep well of empathy, but also a simmering anger towards the man who had caused her such pain. They shared a mutual understanding, a shared resolve to stand by Y/n's side and offer whatever support she needed.

In the midst of the heavy atmosphere, Y/n found comfort in Youngmi's arms. The embrace was a lifeline, a tangible reminder that she was surrounded by friends who cared deeply for her. Tears flowed freely now, a release of pent-up emotions that had been held in for too long.

As the night wore on, they remained together, their bonds strengthened by the shared vulnerability of the moment. They knew that from this point forward, they would face whatever challenges came their way as a united front, ready to protect and uplift one another.

As Wonwoo stirred from his slumber, he found the room oddly empty, a sense of quiet unease settling over him. The muffled sound of a car trunk closing outside drew his attention, and he hastened to investigate. There, he discovered Y/n, busily loading her belongings into the car. Confusion knitted his brows. What was happening?

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked, his voice laced with concern, stepping closer to her.

Y/n sighed, her movements deliberate yet tinged with a sense of urgency. "I have to go back," she replied, gently pushing Wonwoo aside as she secured the last of her belongings.

Wonwoo couldn't suppress his worry. "Is it because of what happened last night?" he ventured, his gaze searching hers. He couldn't help but marvel at her strength and grace, even in the face of such adversity.

Y/n halted, her hand coming up to rub her face, weariness etched in every line. "My husband, no, my ex... He threatened to reveal my identity if I didn't meet him for lunch today. He plans to create a scene at my office," she confessed, her voice finally breaking.

In an instant, Wonwoo enveloped her in a warm embrace, providing a comforting sanctuary amidst the turmoil. "Is that true?" he inquired, his voice gentle. Y/n's nod against his chest confirmed her heartbreaking reality.

As he held her, Wonwoo grappled with a decision. Should he leave for the soft opening? The internal debate was short-lived; his concern for Y/n's well-being took precedence. He knew she couldn't bear a six-hour drive in her current state.

"I'll drive you," Wonwoo declared, resolved to prioritize her over the event.

Y/n's brow furrowed in protest. "No! You can't miss the soft opening this afternoon. Giyong and Youngmi need you," she insisted.

Wonwoo shook his head, his tone unwavering. "They'll understand. But you need me right now. I don't think you should be driving in your condition," he reasoned, gently cradling her trembling hands, a tangible display of her vulnerability.

"I'll explain everything to everyone and wait for me, okay?" Wonwoo reassured, before turning to head back inside, determined to support Y/n through whatever challenges lay ahead.

Wonwoo stepped outside, his fresh clothes clinging to his tall frame as he gracefully slid into the driver's seat. He motioned for Y/n to fasten her seat belt, a gentle reminder of their safety before embarking on their journey.

As Y/n settled into her seat, a wave of guilt washed over her. She couldn't help but feel responsible for the recent events that had unfolded. "How's everybody reacting?" she asked, her voice laced with remorse. "I'm so sorry."

Wonwoo turned to face her, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion. With a reassuring smile, he replied, "No, it's fine. Everyone understands. They reached out to the local library for assistance, and they were more than happy to help." His words carried a sense of relief, a weight lifted off their shoulders.

Turning his head towards her, Wonwoo's hand found hers, their fingers intertwining. "Didn't I tell you that I'll always be on your side?" he asked softly, his touch providing comfort and reassurance. With a gentle motion, he rubbed her knuckles, a tender gesture that spoke volumes of his unwavering support.

As the miles passed beneath them, Y/n couldn't shake the unease settling in her chest. The warmth of Wonwoo's hand in hers, the reassuring rub of his thumb, it all felt too intimate, too knowing. He knew her, inside and out, and that vulnerability made her skin prickle with self-consciousness.

She stole a quick glance at him, finding his gaze fixed on the road ahead, a serene expression on his face. He seemed entirely at ease, oblivious to the storm churning within her

As the road stretched on, Y/n pondered how to convey her feelings without causing discomfort. She subtly shifted her hand, disentangling her fingers from Wonwoo's, letting her palm rest on her own thigh. It was a small, deliberate movement, a signal that she needed some space.

Wonwoo glanced at her, his brow furrowing in mild concern. Sensing her withdrawal, he eased off on the affectionate gestures, giving her the room she silently asked for.

The air in the car seemed to shift, a delicate balance of understanding settling between them. Y/n felt a weight lift off her chest, grateful for Wonwoo's sensitivity to her unspoken cues.

A lump formed in Y/n's throat, and she cleared it, willing herself to find the right words. "Wonwoo, I... I appreciate everything you've done for me. But you know so much about me, and I... I feel embarrassed, like you see all my flaws and insecurities."

The confession hung in the air, a fragile admission of her own discomfort. She couldn't bear the thought of him knowing every vulnerable part of her, laid bare for him to see.

Wonwoo met her gaze, his eyes soft with understanding. He nodded gently, his smile a beacon of reassurance. "Y/n, I want you to know that I would never want you to feel uncomfortable or exposed. I care about you deeply, and I respect your boundaries."

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, moved by his considerate response. "Thank you, Wonwoo. It's not that I don't trust you, it's just... it's hard, you know? Being so open."

He nodded again, his gaze unwavering. "I understand, Y/n. Vulnerability can be a difficult thing to navigate, especially when you care about someone. Please know that I'm here for you, in whatever way you need me to be."

The drive to Seoul stretched on, the minutes feeling like hours in the confined space of the car. Wonwoo's gaze flickered towards Y/n's phone, which she cradled in her palm. He couldn't help but notice the persistent call from Jisoo's contact flashing on the screen. Y/n shot him an apologetic look before reluctantly answering.

She took a steadying breath, swiping to answer the call. "Hello," she greeted, her voice gentle yet firm. "I'm on my way from Changwon. Can you just wait?"

The voice on the other end crackled with impatience and agitation. Y/n's ex-husband seemed unwilling to grant her request, his demands echoing through the phone. Wonwoo, attuned to the conversation, could hear the frustration in Y/n's voice, though she remained composed.

"Don't you dare try to go to my office, you're crazy," she asserted, her tone unwavering. The words held a quiet strength, a boundary firmly set.

Wonwoo's grip on the steering wheel tightened instinctively. He could feel the weight of the situation, the underlying tension in the car growing palpable.

The passing scenery outside seemed to blur, the city lights of Seoul a distant promise of respite. Wonwoo stole glances at Y/n, concern etched into his features. He wished he could shield her from the discomfort, but all he could do was keep his focus on the road, providing a steady anchor in the midst of the storm.

As the call finally came to an end, Y/n let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She turned to Wonwoo, a mixture of frustration and weariness in her eyes. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, Wonwoo."

He offered a reassuring smile, his voice gentle. "You don't need to apologize."

As they approached the Seoul University area, Wonwoo navigated the car through the familiar streets, glancing at Y/n for directions. She directed him with a calm confidence, her focus on their destination.

"So, we're heading to Seoul University, right?" Wonwoo asked, double-checking to ensure they were on the right track.

Y/n nodded, her gaze fixed ahead. "Yes, that's correct. It's just up ahead."

As they pulled up near the café, a gentle sense of anticipation hung in the air. Y/n turned to Wonwoo, her expression grateful. "Thank you for getting me here, Wonwoo. I really appreciate it."

He met her gaze with a reassuring smile. "Of course, Y/n. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

As Y/n prepared to step out of the car, Wonwoo hesitated for a moment. "Would you like me to come with you?" he offered, genuine concern in his voice.

Y/n considered the offer, touched by his willingness to support her. However, she ultimately declined with a kind smile. "Thank you, Wonwoo, but I think I'll be okay. I'll catch up with you soon."

With that, she exited the car, leaving Wonwoo to wait inside. He watched her disappear into the café, a mixture of admiration and concern welling within him.

As he sat alone in the car, lost in his thoughts, he saw a figure approaching. It was Hong Jisoo, a fellow actor under the same agency. Wonwoo's mind raced, connecting the dots between the information he had from his manager and the story Y/n had shared the previous night.

The gravity of the situation settled heavily on Wonwoo's shoulders. He couldn't help but feel a surge of anger towards Jisoo, not just for the chaos he had caused for their agency, but for the pain he had inflicted upon Y/n.

He knew that if Y/n chose to reveal the truth about their relationship, it could mean serious consequences for Jisoo. And in Wonwoo's eyes, he would fully deserve the backlash.

The minutes stretched on as Wonwoo sat alone in the car, the tension in the air palpable. His mind raced, thoughts swirling with a mix of concern for Y/n and a growing disdain for Hong Jisoo. The gravity of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, a weight he couldn't easily shake.

He couldn't help but replay the details he had gathered from his manager and the fragments of Y/n's story from the night before. It was a puzzle he was desperate to piece together, a mosaic of pain and betrayal that painted a devastating picture.

Wonwoo's empathy for Y/n ran deep. He couldn't fathom the pain she must have endured, the scars that lingered beneath the surface. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to shield her from any further harm.

As he sat in the car, the cafe's windows reflecting the bustle of the university area, he couldn't shake the sense of injustice that gnawed at him. Hong Jisoo's actions were not only a betrayal of trust but a stain on their shared profession. The chaos he had caused for their agency was not easily forgiven.

Yet, Wonwoo also understood the delicate dance of fame and reputation. Exposing the truth could be a double-edged sword, a decision that required careful consideration. Y/n held the power to unveil the reality of their past, a truth that could potentially change everything.

As the minutes passed, he found himself hoping for Y/n's strength and resilience to guide her through the encounter. He knew she was more than capable of handling the situation, but the support he yearned to offer her was bound by the confines of the car.

Finally, the door of the cafe swung open, and Y/n emerged. Her posture held a quiet determination, and Wonwoo's heart swelled with admiration. She approached the car with a composed grace, slipping into the passenger seat beside him.

Their gazes met, and without a word, he could sense the weight of the encounter. He offered her a small, supportive smile, a silent assurance that he was there for her.

The ride back from Seoul University was filled with a quiet yet palpable sense of support. As they merged onto familiar streets, Wonwoo broke the silence, his voice warm and gentle. "Y/n, where would you like to go now?"

Y/n's gaze shifted to the passing scenery outside, contemplative. "Home, please. I just want to be there right now."

Wonwoo nodded, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated the route to Y/n's residence. The drive was a comfortable one, the air between them carrying a sense of shared understanding.

As they arrived, Y/n turned to Wonwoo with a small, sincere smile. "Would you like to come inside, Wonwoo? It's been a while since I've been able to host anyone."

He met her gaze with a soft smile of his own. "I'd love to, Y/n. Thank you for the invitation."

The house greeted them with a familiar warmth, the familiar scent of home enveloping them. Y/n offered a brief apology for not being able to prepare anything, her genuine hospitality shining through.

"It's not a problem at all, Y/n," Wonwoo reassured her. "I'm just glad to be here with you."

They settled into a comfortable rhythm, the atmosphere relaxed and easy. As they sat in the living room, Y/n turned to Wonwoo, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and determination.

"The meeting earlier," Wonwoo began gently, "how did it go?"

Y/n took a moment to collect her thoughts before speaking. "It was complicated but we dealed to come with a legal agreement, really. We both agreed that if it ever comes out that I wasn't the one who revealed Jisoo's status, he'll stop bothering me."

Wonwoo nodded, understanding the weight of the situation. "That's a significant step, Y/n. I'm glad you were able to find some resolution."

Y/n's eyes met his, a spark of gratitude shining through. "Thank you, Wonwoo. Your support means more to me than I can express."

They sat in companionable silence, the weight of the day slowly lifting. As evening settled in, the air around them seemed to fill with a sense of hope and possibility. Y/n sat on the comfortable living room couch, her eyes fixed on Wonwoo, a mix of curiosity and warmth in her gaze. The atmosphere in the room was cozy, the soft light casting a gentle glow around them.

"Can I ask you something, Wonwoo?" she ventured, her voice soft but steady.

He turned towards her, his expression open and inviting. "Of course, Y/n. You can ask me anything."

She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I've been wondering... why have you been so kind and affectionate towards me lately? I mean, driving all the way from Changwon and being there for me. It means a lot, but I'm just trying to understand the reason behind it."

Wonwoo met her gaze with sincerity, his eyes warm and earnest. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking.

"It's been a while since I felt like I could truly enjoy my life and my time," he began, his voice filled with a quiet gratitude. "Meeting you, Giyong, and Youngmi again... it's been a reminder of the good things life has to offer. And with you, Y/n, there's something more."

Y/n's gaze held his, her curiosity deepening. "Something more?"

Wonwoo nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yes. Being around you, there's a sense of protectiveness that awakens in me. I want to be there for you, to support you in any way I can."

He took a breath, his gaze steady on Y/n's. "I've come to realize that it's more than just friendship, Y/n. I have feelings for you, romantically."

Y/n's heart seemed to flutter in her chest, surprised yet warmed by his honesty. She met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting a mix of emotions.

"I understand if it's difficult for you, Y/n," he continued, his voice gentle. "I know it hasn't been long for you, and I'm willing to wait. You deserve to take your time and open your heart when you're ready. I believe you're worth fighting for."

His words hung in the air, a quiet declaration of his feelings and his unwavering support. Y/n felt a rush of emotion wash over her, touched by his sincerity and the depth of his care.

"Thank you, Wonwoo," she finally said, her voice filled with gratitude. "Your honesty means a lot to me, and I truly appreciate your patience and understanding."

As they sat in the comfortable living room, the weight of their conversation seemed to settle around them. It was a pivotal moment, a shared understanding of the feelings that had blossomed between them. Together, they faced the uncertainty of what lay ahead, their bond strengthened by their shared vulnerability. They were ready to navigate the path forward, hand in hand, knowing that their connection was worth every step.

The room was cast in a hushed, early morning light, painting everything in a gentle, golden hue. Wonwoo's breaths gradually steadied as the remnants of his vivid dream began to recede. He gazed around the room, the unfamiliar surroundings of his father's villa causing a wave of disorientation to wash over him. It was as if he had been temporarily transported to another world, only to be abruptly pulled back to reality.

As Wonwoo sat there in the quiet villa, the weight of his realization settled heavily on his shoulders. The vividness of the dream still clung to him, like an echo of a life he had briefly lived. The laughter, the shared moments, the warmth of their connections—all of it felt so achingly real, yet he knew it was nothing more than a fleeting illusion.

A sense of yearning mingled with a quiet ache of loss, as if he had glimpsed a reality that was just out of reach. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, trying to grasp onto the fading threads of the dream. It was like trying to hold onto mist, slipping through his fingers, leaving him with a bittersweet ache.

The room around him seemed to close in, the walls of the villa pressing in on him. He longed to return to the moments he had experienced in that dream, to be with Giyong, Youngmi, and Y/n once more. But the cruel truth was that those moments were never real, just fragments of a slumbering mind.

His body felt weary and spent, the strain of the long drive from Seoul to his childhood hometown settling in his bones. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, attempting to shake off the lingering traces of the dream. Those moments with Giyong, Youngmi, and Y/n seemed to cling to him, the emotions and sensations feeling almost too tangible, too real.

As another thud resonated through the villa, Wonwoo's senses sharpened, his heart quickening with a surge of adrenaline. He moved with purpose, descending the stairs in swift strides. The urgency in his steps betrayed the underlying anxiety that still pulsed through him.

When he entered the kitchen, the sight of Y/n greeted him like a beacon of solace. She sat there, a picture of quiet comfort, munching on chips with a bucket of ice cream at her side. Her presence was a grounding force, a reassuring reminder that he was indeed back in reality.

Her eyes lifted to meet his, a hint of confusion softening the edges of her gaze. "Did I wake you up?"

Wonwoo's response was immediate and visceral. He shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "No, it's not that. I had a dream... I thought you were just a dream."

Y/n's laughter was a melodic, comforting sound. She reached out, her hand gentle as she patted his head, a soothing gesture that seemed to anchor him. "Well, I'm very much real, Wonwoo."

A sigh of relief escaped him, and he found himself leaning into her touch, seeking the solace she offered. Her scent, familiar and warm, enveloped him, dispelling the lingering traces of the dream that still clung to his senses.

She eased back, concern etched in the soft lines of her features. "Are you okay, Wonwoo?"

He met her gaze with a grateful smile, the depth of his appreciation mirrored in his eyes. "I am now, thanks to you."

Y/n extended a gentle invitation, patting the seat beside her, her eyes warm with affection. "Come join me." She nodded towards her chips and ice cream, a snack combination that had become a cherished indulgence since they learned about the little one growing inside her.

Wonwoo's heart swelled with a delicate mixture of tenderness and wonder. He moved to her side, their bodies settling in close companionship. The simplicity of sharing a snack held a profound significance, a quiet acknowledgement of the new journey they were about to embark on together.

As they sat in the tranquil villa, a sense of calm settled around them like a comforting embrace. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in a cocoon of shared intimacy. The promise of a new chapter in their lives hung in the air, a palpable presence that filled the room.

Wonwoo's gaze lingered on Y/n, his heart overflowing with gratitude for this moment. The dream, though fleeting, had left an indelible mark on him, blurring the boundaries between reality and imagination. Yet, here and now, with Y/n beside him, everything felt undeniably real. It was a tangible affirmation of the love, hope, and the promise of a bright future that lay ahead.

Their fingers brushed lightly as they reached for the snacks, a subtle connection that spoke volumes. Each gesture, each shared glance, was a silent promise to face the uncertainties of the future hand in hand. They were ready, together, to navigate the uncharted waters of parenthood, knowing that their bond was the anchor that would guide them through.

In the quietude of the villa, time seemed to suspend, leaving them in a precious bubble of shared anticipation. Every heartbeat echoed with the promise of new beginnings, of a love that would grow and evolve with each passing day.

As the day unfolded around them, Wonwoo and Y/n sat there, cherishing the moment. Their hearts beat in sync, a harmonious rhythm that set the tone for the journey that awaited them. They were ready to face the world, armed with the strength of their love and the unwavering promise of a future filled with endless possibilities.

Celebrated Actor Jeon Wonwoo Announces Joyous Pregnancy News with Non-Celebrity Wife

Three Years After Tying the Knot, the Couple Embarks on a New Chapter

---

Date: September 23, 20xx

Seoul, South Korea – In a heartwarming revelation, renowned actor Jeon Wonwoo, known for his exceptional talent and versatile roles, has shared the delightful news of his wife's pregnancy. The celebrated couple, who exchanged vows three years ago in a private ceremony, are now eagerly anticipating the arrival of their bundle of joy.

Jeon Wonwoo, recognized for his outstanding contributions to the entertainment industry, has captivated audiences with his memorable performances in a range of films and television dramas. His marriage to a non-celebrity three years ago was met with warm wishes and heartfelt support from fans and colleagues alike.

The actor's announcement of his wife's pregnancy comes as a source of great joy for both the couple and their admirers. This new chapter in their lives is met with much anticipation and excitement.

Friends and colleagues from the entertainment industry have extended their warmest congratulations to the soon-to-be parents. The news has also been met with an outpouring of love and well-wishes from fans worldwide, showcasing the deep affection and support they hold for the esteemed actor.

Jeon Wonwoo, known for his humility and dedication to his craft, has always kept his personal life private, focusing instead on delivering compelling performances that have garnered critical acclaim. This announcement is a rare glimpse into the actor's cherished moments, allowing fans to share in his happiness.

As the actor and his wife embark on this new journey together, their fans eagerly await the arrival of their little one, sending heartfelt wishes for health, happiness, and endless blessings.

The couple's journey into parenthood promises to be filled with love, support, and cherished memories. With the world watching, Jeon Wonwoo and his wife step into this exciting new chapter, ready to embrace the adventures of parenthood with open hearts.

The End.

537 notes · View notes

alonetimelover · 1 year ago

Text

pairing: Harry Styles x scientist(physicist)!reader

summary: There is this one professor at Oxford that can explain physics theorems with help of POP culture. What happens when she uses Harry's music to explain one of the themes?

a/n: It took me definitely much more time than I anticipated... I hope I didn't butchered the theorem explanation in this fic (if so, make me aware, please).

masterlist

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Messages between Jeff and Harry

reyJeff sent an attachment somehow you're useful for science...

my responsibility what is it? last time you sent me a link I got an hour long scolding from my mum and she's somewhere in the house

reyJeff nothing bad this time just some professor is explaining a theorem while using your music she's good, i now know what is the Higgs mechanism

my responsibility there's no way you understand physics, they must be a miracle worker... I'll check the video out see you tomorrow at the office? reyJeff reacted to the message

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TikTok

“But, Dr YSN, the Higgs mechanism does not make sense?” said or rather asked the voice behind the recording phone.

“Syrup allegory did not help at all?” Dr YSN turned from the blackboard, looking directly at the asking student.

“I mean, I understand that when the Universe’s temperature cooled down the Higgs field condensed in all volume and scattered across it like a fog. But what and how and - ugh - why?” The student grew impatient and angry in her incomprehension.

“It’s okay, Lauren. I understand that this subject wasn’t the one you expected while choosing to study biology. And unfortunately it is important, it will help you connect quite a few dots while learning about cell division and bioprocesses. But going back to the Higgs problem.” Doctor cleared her throat and stood near her desk. One hand holding onto the oak surface, drumming her fingers in thought of how to help those young people.

“Dr YSN," interrupted her thought process some other student. "If the particles are getting stuck why not photons?” They connotated the allegory that Dr YSN wanted to primarily help them with understanding.

“It all comes to the mass of the particle, and just like you all know now - photons do not have mass. They are, according to quantum mechanics, a portion of energy. Yes?”

The whole room nodded their heads, suddenly remembering the lecture from just two days ago.

“Okay, now back to the Higgs problem. Do you guys have a favourite artist?”

The lecture room erupted with not so hushed whispers about who should tell the name of their idol. Doctor patiently waited for one of the young men to grow courage and speak up.

“Harry Styles?”

“Perfect!” Exclaimed lecturer. “Now, do we have people here that do not like Mr Styles’ music?”

On the screen overlooking more than enough of the lecture room could be seen a few of raised hands (a definite minority).

“Okay, listen carefully. We’re imagining it now."

Doctor strolled from behind her desk and moved forward as to be closer to her students.

"Let’s say that Mr Harry Styles’ music is our Higgs field. Can you do that? Amazing. Now, when he got his latest album out it spread around the world. Everyone liked it, right?"

Seeing some of the student nodding their heads, she exclaimed, "not right. You," she pointed at the student that previously raised their hands. "You all didn’t know. And that's why you are photons in our experiment. Photons, like we already relearned today, are without mass and in our example they are without love or interest in Mr Styles’ music. Everything is clear for now?”

After getting an approval of nodding heads, YN anyway moved to the blackboard and wrote:

mass = love for Mr Styles' music

photons = not-fans of Mr Styles' music

“Fantastic. Any particle that has some mass, so love for that music, will find itself stuck. You’re stuck because you love that music -” she pointed to the student that had said Harry’s name, “- so you listen to it, analyse and appreciate. The appreciation grows with love so the resistance grows with mass."

appreciation = resistance

"All in all, the current love is the measure of appreciation. So?”

“The current mass of the particle is the measure of resistance that the Higgs field can withstand,” said almost everyone present in the room, making the doctor smile from ear to ear. She had already written it down on the board.

“Excuse me? If Harry’s music is the Higgs field then Harry alone is the Higgs particle - the God Particle, right?” Asked someone from the first row.

“That is correct. Excellent, Madeline! Now, you all understand the basics of the Higgs mechanism and field?”

view all comments

wtf, how did i just understand physics???? im a sociology major

can we talk about how she took her time to explain instead of yelling for not understanding? it's sad that we need to point that out

harry + physics ??? never thought i would experience it

as a physics student - WHY CAN'T I HAVE THIS LECTURER?? - she's soooo good

im 15 and understood this shit, holy moly

it's going viral so HELLO HARRY i know that someone sent it to him and he's sitting under his little blanket, watching it

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Instagram

scienceandharstyles

liked by harrysmoustache, harrystyles and 23 381 others

scienceandharstyles I don't know how many of you know but my physics lecturer is literally the 'viral Higgs professor'. Today, after the lecture, she was kind enough to explain to me this awful mathematics (I hate maths) even though it was late (8:30 PM) and she had plans. I just thought I would post about it here (I have her consent for uploading this photo) to show how amazing she is.

view all 3 032 comments

sciencestudent we need more professors like her!

harryupdates I'd love to have this type of lecturers at my Uni...

⤷ scienceandharstyles she really is amazing! after a few examples she wanted me to do to see if i understood the topic, she just flawlessly moved the convo towards my interests, like??? she's so attentive and warm and sweet? i obviously started talking about harry...

hArrysbtch does she know how tiktok is simping over her???

⤷ scienceandharstyles she said that as long as people could take something from those videos, she didn't mind

⤷ hArrysbtch tbh i don't blame those people... she's gorgeous

harrysmylife HARRY LIKED

helloitsharry guys, remember that tiktok account we thought was harrys? maybe it is and he started it just to watch her videos??

⤷ hArrysbtch no way... it makes sense. i checked and that account liked almost all videos that are about dr ysn

⤷ harrysmoustache plus it was created around the time the first video of her started going viral. coincidence? i think not!

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, scienceandharstyles and 43 492 others

harryupdates HARRY was seen arriving at the Oppenheimer's after party in London!!!

view all 2 201 comments

hArrysbtch him and Nolan are besties. CONFIRMED

harrysmoustache wearing all black??? he knows it's serious

⤷ harrysfan82 did you want him to wear pink?

⤷ harrysmylife harry would be able to pull that off

scienceandharstyles guys, my professor was the consultant on that movie!!!!

⤷ harrysmoustache you mean THE professor? the higgs professor???

⤷ scienceandharstyles yes! she and one of our older professors were providing knowledge for the director and actors on set. Dr YSN was working with Nolan since he started writing the script!

⤷ hArrysbtch i need them together. i need to know everything about them interacting

⤷ harrysmoustache can you imagine harry trying to justify him literally stalking all those videos of her explaining her lectures??

⤷ hArrysbtch ohhhh, id die to be next to them while they were talking!!!!

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harryupdates

liked by scienceandharstyles, hArrysbtch and 58 303 others

harryupdates HARRY AND DR YN YSN at the after party!

view all 4 402 comments

hArrysbtch NO WAY

hArrysbtch look at his face!!!! he was blushing!!!!

hArrysbtch she's so beautiful 😍

scienceandharstyles the god particle and his creator!

harrysmoustache i need videos to see if he was shy 🤭 if so, i know for sure he has a BIG crush on her

harrysmylife guys there was a video going all over twitter! after he was introduced to dr yn and the other professor, she was like, "i've never thought i would see the god particle in person"

⤷ hArrysbtch oh she was flirting too

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scienceandharstyles

liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 34 201 others

scienceandharstyles guys, i met harry today....

view all 2 589 comments

scienceandharstyles ok, story time! 1) it was at this very cute cat cafe in Oxford, very close to my campus. they serve those beautiful coffee with drawn cats on the foam!! super cute! but back to the story, i was just petting one of the cats - Murphy - when i heard the bells. and I am super noisy and needed to know who entered the cafe

scienceandharstyles 2) i looked up and it was dr YSN (tiktoks higgs professor but i really don't like calling her that). when she saw me she just immediately walked up to me and asked if she could seat with me while she waited for her friend to arrive. i, of course, agreed (i literally love her).

scienceandharstyles 3) she then helped me with some of my work for uni (maths again...) and while explaining she was so attentive and asked about my day. she asked if i got the tickets for the concert i wanted (i didn't say it was for harry) and when I said I did, she was so happy for me!

scienceandharstyles 4) after about 30 minutes of talking someone else entered the cafe and, you guessed it, it was harry. what's more, he walked up to us because HE WAS THE FRIEND MY RPOFESSOR WAS WAITING FOR. he greeted her with a hug and introduced himself to me. i was so shocked i couldn't form a sentence. dr ysn helped me calm down and said a few words for me.

scienceandharstyles 5) they both then moved to the other table to actually enjoy their time together. but before that harry offered to take the photo with me but only if he could wear my hat!!!! yeah, it was a wild day

hArrysbtch oh, that's first date harry, I'm telling you

harryupdates madeline im so happy for you!

harrysmoustache if he dressed like that for our first date, i wouldn't be able to form a sentence... he looks so handsome

harrysmoustache AND HE HAS THE MOUSTACHE AGAIN, LET'S RAISE MOUSTACHE STANS

harrysmylife the tattoos, the chains, the nail polish, the hat, the bicep????? im dead

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physics_oxford

liked by scienceandharstyles, harrystyles and 10 301 others

physics_oxford Dr YN YSN would like to invite 'anybody that craves knowledge' to the open lecture about Robbert J Oppenheimer's work described in the film Oppenheimer. As the science consultant during the filming, Dr YSN invited the writer and director of the movie - Christopher Nolan, as well as the lead actor - Cillian Murphy. We cannot wait to see you next Friday at the main hall!

view all 982 comments

scienceandharstyles Can't wait to attend this!

⤷ yourinstagram Can't wait to see you, Madeline! ❤️

student21 Dr YSN to the rescue to everyone that didn't understand the movie!!!

studen45 it's amazing that more people can experience the brilliance of Dr YSN teaching! Great move from the Dean.

harrysmoustache i think im going there... fingers crossed

student23 CILLIAN???

harrysfan21 i bet that harry's attending it!

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 46 502 others

harryupdates HARRY arriving at Dr YN YSN lecture at Oxford University!

view all 4 201 comments

hArrysbtch who predicted that???

harrysmoustache HARRY AND CILLIAN REUNION

harrysmylife we stay winning, my soldiers

stylesbabie he looks good 🫠

harrysfan82 he's so supportive of dr ysn

hArrysbtch scienceandharstyles were you there???

⤷ scienceandharstyles i was!!! and he literally greeted me by my name?? like, he remembered... After the lecture ended he waited for dr ysn and others from the panel and left with them! even gave me a wave then!

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harryupdates

liked by scienceandharstyles, harrysmylife and 56 492 others

harryupdates HARRY VIA DELETED IG STORIES !!!

view all 5 011 comments

hArrysbtch can you guys imagine what he's posting to his close friends ig stories? I WANT TO BE THERE

harrysmoustache the hugging sticker???

harrysmylife i love how he appreciates dr ysn way of showing that she cares... i love then

scienceandharstyles that was my latest lecture with dr ysn! it was a tough one, im wondering how Harry understood it

⤷ stylesbabie what was it about?

⤷ scienceandharstyles literally, bunch of maths equations that we need to understand and then use in practice!

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 310 others

yourinstagram this is what i'm dealing with instead of checking the papers and giving grades...

view all 34 comments

annetwist He's going to break his neck one day!

⤷ yourinstagram please, tell him, Anne. he's not listening to me...

⤷ harrystyles I am well coordinated, thank you.

gemmastyles he has some connections with your students. be careful, ynn

⤷ yourinstagram they all love him! im already loosing!

yourbestfriend glad to see those plants alive

⤷ yourinstagram thank you, im a very good plant mommy

harrystyles who is this dancer? he seems exeptional.

⤷ yourinstagram remember the book about ego i wanted to lend to you?

⤷ jeffazoff ohhhh, burnt to ashes!

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harryupdates

liked by scienceandharstyles, hArrysbtch and 23 301 others

harryupdates HARRY was seen at the Oxfords library!!

view all 2 402 comments

hArrysbtch oh wattpad girlies open the documents and write about professorry!!!!

harrysmoustache it's giving dark academia

scienceandharstyles guys, he's literally hanging out at our campus. it's so cute!

⤷ harrysmylife is he there often?

⤷ scienceandharstyles yes! a few times a week. he's bringing lunch or coffee to dr ysn office. sometimes they have lunch together somewhere on the campus. he's now treated here just like any other student. most people don't even pay attention to him!

⤷ harryupdates im so glad people don't bother them

⤷ user46 is it even allowed?

⤷ scienceandharstyles if he's doing it, there must be the dean's consent!

stylesbabie he even dresses like those old-school professors!

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yourbestfriend

liked by yourinstagram, harrystyles, scienceandharstyles and 32 492 others

yourbestfriend Dr YN YSN reading her graduate's research paper and finding out that they, indeed, included her boyfriend as one of the examples.

view all 5 402 comments

yourinstagram I am a PROUD supervisor!!!

harrystyles I am, indeed, helping science. Will I also get a Nobel prize?

⤷ yourinstagram No, baby. You won't.

⤷ harrystyles :(((

scienceandharstyles ohhhh god!!! my thesis!!!

⤷ yourinstagram I sent you an email with all comments about the paper, Madeline. You are on the right track! ❤️

hArrysbtch she is SOOO BREATHTAKING

⤷ harrystyles agreed.

⤷ hArrysbtch Harry?!

user492 Isn’t it confidential?

⤷ scienceandharstyles Well, they didn't say whose paper was it. I commented that, and I don't mind people knowing. Besides, it will be published soon.

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wired

liked by yourinstagram, harrystyles and 381 492 others

wired It's been only 12 hours and our newest video of Dr YN YSN answering your questions has over 2,5M views! Should I (the intern) ask THE boss for PART 2? Link in bio.

view all 10 391 comments

yourinstagram It was an absolute pleasure to film this video! I wouldn't be opposite to doing a part 2 👀

harrystyles Boycotting! There was no God particle!

⤷ yourinstagram So, part 2?

⤷ harrystyles Part 2.

harrystyles The best Doctor out there! 👸🏻

⤷ yourinstagram ❤️❤️

scienceandharstyles our dr is getting famous!!!!

harryupdates Woah, this video singlehandedly is convincing me to change majors!

user49 one of the best videos in the series!

user78 Can't remember seeing someone being this enthusiastic about physics theorems.

yourbestfriend bestie getting famous... i love it

⤷ yourinstagram thanks to you and encouraging me!

⤷ harrystyles *clearing throat*

⤷ yourinstagram and thanks to my wonderful, one and only, best in the whole world boyfriend

⤷ hArrysbtch oh he loves attention!

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a/n: would you like to see more of physicist!reader?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles instagram #harry styles fake ig #scientist!reader #physicist!reader

1K notes · View notes

sugarushwriting · 4 months ago

Text

“don’t blame me, love made me crazy.”

“looks like an angel while sleeping.”

just a little jay drabble/oneshot. different than my usual writing.

not proof read.

trigger warnings:

obsession: the state of being obsessed with someone or something.

stalking: stalkers use a variety of tactics, including (but not limited to): unwanted contact including phone calls, texts, and contact via social media, unwanted gifts, showing up/approaching an individual or their family/friends, monitoring, surveillance, property damage, and threats.

voyeurism: voyeuristic behavior is when someone derives sexual gratification from secretly watching others undress or engage in sexual activities. voyeurs are also known as "peeping toms"

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

every where you were, jay was there too.

a coffee shop, main library on campus. any cafeteria or food center on campus. anywhere and almost everywhere.

it didn’t matter how many different options were available, you both always ended up at the same place at the same time.

yet you both only had 3 classes together on campus.

philosophy intro to logic, abnormal psychology and interpersonal communications.

“will you be okay?” you friend asked with extreme concern.

“yes, i will be okay, ryunjin.” you reassured.

she was worried because for your abnormal psychology class you were partnered with jay for project.

“maybe yall should study him, because he’s definitely abnormal.” ryunjin whispered.

you playfully swatted her arm. “jay told me to meet him on the fourth floor.”

“why the top floor? so no one can hear you scream?”

“it’s the quiet floor and that’s where he reserved a study room for us.” you said. “please stop being like that!” you huffed.

ryunjin rolled her eyes but went to the second floor where her other friends were as you rode up the elevator to the fourth floor.

you were the one to actually suggest the fourth floor and jay reserved a room for you both based on that suggestion.

getting off the elevator, you found the study room off to the corner with ease, seeing jay set out needed materials on the table.

when he saw you enter he smiled. “oh hey!”

you smiled and waved. “hey jay. ready to get this project knocked out?”

he laughed, “absolutely, but it should be fun. abnormal psychology is one of my favorite subjects.”

“mine too.” you smiled.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

almost an hour later, you both decided on the topic of how personality disorders impact intrapersonal relationships.

you had actually suggested the topic on obsessive sexual fascinations like fetishism, voyeruism, and exhibitionsim, however, jay wasn’t too sure that would even get approved by the professor.

“why not?” you had asked. “is it not a part of abnormal psychology and human behavior?”

“it is but—,”

“you’re not comfortable, it’s okay.” you teased.

ryunjin would probably say it’s because it would mean studying his pattern of behaviors and people don’t like when they get caught.

during the next hour you both jotted down some ideas and found a few psychology papers and articles you all could use.

“we would also need to make sure we find examples.” jay said. “like in movies, shows, plays, things like that.”

“sounds like an easy task! we could use the movies like scream, when a stranger calls, or even—,”

jay chuckled. “and how do these movies relate to our topic?”

“are you kidding,” you laughed with a chuckle, “those people were cray cray. they had to have some kind of personality disorder. sure i can find out with some research.”

“when’s the next time you’re available to work on the project?” jay asked as you both started packing your belongings.

“i am pretty open. i don’t do much but hang around friends or stick to myself.” you shrugged. “how about tomorrow?”

“that’s fine. but i think we’ll have to find a new spot, if i remember correctly the library study rooms are booked up.”

“that’s okay, since we need somewhere private, maybe mine or your apartments?” you suggested, putting your bag over your shoulder.

jay nodded. “either is fine.” he smiled.

“we can do my place! i have plenty of snacks.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“are you insane?” ryunjin scolded you. “that guy is is messed up in the head, you know he’s stalking you, yet you invite him to your place? what are you, crazy yourself?”

it was the next day, and you were telling ryunjin your plans with jay to work on the project at your place while you both stopped by a coffee shop earlier in the morning.

“he asked for my address.” you stated.

“of course he did! he can’t get caught.” ryunjin narrowed her eyes at you. you rolled yours, and walked out the coffee shop, her right behind you.

“you know i am just looking out for you, right?” ryunjin sighed. “i mean, you’ve told me how you been finding flowers at your doorstep, and jay would randomly pop up where you are, almost everywhere, you were.”

“i could be overreacting.”

ryunjin scoffed. “oh now you say you’re overreacting? babe, a stalker is a stalker.”

“i actually never said he was a stalker.” you defending, back tracking.

“you legit told me, ‘ryunjin, jay from my class is stalking me!’”

“i don’t recall.” you shrugged it off.

you did recall.

you remember telling ryunjin how flowers were showing up at your door step, the same flowers from a flower shop jay worked at over the summer.

you remember telling ryunjin how anytime you were at the mall, you saw jay there and he would be staring at you wide-eyed, then quickly walk away.

same at any coffee shop, cafeterias on campus and so forth.

you remember telling ryunjin how you always felt someone was watching you as you undressed.

later that evening you prepared a variety of snacks for jay, and spread out all materials that would be needed for the project.

he had texted you and stated he would be at your place by 7:00 pm.

it was 7:05 pm and you got worried, negative thoughts clouding your mind. was he hurt? did he forget? did he stand you up?

at 7:10 pm a knock came to your door, and you giddily got up from your spot on the floor in front of the coffee table and took big strides to open the door.

you opened seeing jay with a smile. “sorry i’m a bit late. uh, something popped up.”

“oh no, is everything okay?” you asked with concern.

jay seemed frazzled and out of sorts than how he usually presents himself or how you see him.

jay shook his head, “i’m good. just probably all in my head.”

“great, let’s get to work!”

you invited jay in your apartment, showing him were you set up the coffee table for working on the project.

“wow you really do have a lot of snacks!” he chuckled. he picked up a few, “and many are my favorite?” this came out more as a question and surprise, his eyebrows raising cutely.

“really? they’re my favorite too!” you giggled. “should we get started? i have a few personality disorders we can explore.”

“sure! what are some you have in mind?”

“well i was researching,” you began, and took a seat on the floor and jay did the same. “some personality disorders that can affect relationships and communication include antisocial personality disorder, borderline personality disorders, histrionic personality disorders and narcissistic personality disorders.” you listed with a smile. “but those are just cluster b that i think have the highest affects.”

“you seem to know a lot about personality disorders?” jay chuckled.

“i should, it’s an interest of mine. like i mentioned, abnormal psychology is one of my favorite subjects. i would love to work with populations most wouldn’t.”

“like who?” jay asked as you piped his interest.

“serial killers, stalkers, criminals, people like them.”

jay nearly choked on his own spit. “why is that?”

you smirked and your hand landed on his shoulder. he looked at your hand nervously, “i just think most are misunderstood.” you smiled widely. “i also just believe the way they think is so interesting and unbelievable.”

jay watched you talk about your passion with not only interest but something more. maybe he was looking at you strangely? looking at you with concern?

“well, this project should be breeze then.” he laughed nervously. he was more than ready to leave.

as you all continued to work on the project at a good pace, you and jay couldn’t help but still glances at one another.

two and half hours later, jay stood with a stretch, “it’s getting late, i should go.” he stated. “thank you for the snacks.”

he started packing up his things, as you began cleaning up a little. once his backpack strap was over his shoulder, he looked into your kitchen seeing a vase of flowers, a tag that clearly showed it was from the flower shop he worked at over the summer.

jay got nervous and fearful. he quickly adverted his gaze before you caught him looking. but unknown to him, you saw him out of the corner of your eye looking at the flowers, but you decided to keep quiet about it.

“so, i’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked hopeful.

jay’s voice shook with nerves, “um, i’ll text you. i forgot i have something planned with my friends tomorrow.” he smiled politely, but quickly bid goodbye and left your apartment.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

jay laid in bed after showering wide awake for a while. his nerves had gotten the better of him.

you had showered and put on some comfy clothes to enjoy your favorite show after jay left.

jay soon fell asleep, and one thing about jay was he was a heavy sleeper. almost nothing could wake him up so easily. his friends would tease him about it, but it was just who he was.

you weren’t a heavy sleeper on the other hand. which is why to every small noise you would awake, or had almost a third sense of being over cautionary fearful someone was always watching.

the flowers in the trash looked at you almost mockingly, and you closed your fist so tight, your nails were sure to dig into your knuckles.

such an angel while sleeping. so peaceful.

yes jay was. you smiled lovingly looking down at him as you watched him from his doorway as he slept soundly. you stepped quietly closer to him to get as close as possible, when you took out your polaroid camera.

after watching your favorite show which starred jay, him getting undressed and redressed, you were hot and bothered and couldn’t wait until you could finally make your move.

but it would take time. he wouldn’t understand you, or your habits, or how your brain worked.

you could see he was judging you earlier about the way you spoke about your passion.

but he would come around. he had to.

you knew he got stumbled by the flowers in your apartment. if he questioned, you would’ve just waved it off as a coincidence you got it for yourself, or maybe tell him you had a secret admirer to see if he would get jealous.

would he? you had a feeling he would be the jealous and possessive type of what belongs to him.

you sure were. possessive, jealous, of any girl that he talked to. he didn’t know better, but those women should! you thought, they couldn’t compare to you anyway.

when it came to your tactics, you had to be careful. you didn’t want to scare him off too soon. so this project was a great way to wiggle yourself into his bubble.

you fantasized so much about your future with jay. it blurred the line between fact and fictitious, and you were so deep into the obsession, you didn’t understand or even see the line anymore.

you didn’t want to blackmail him—not yet. the flowers were enough for now.

your love for jay made you crazy.

no one could blame you. that’s just how love was, right?

“don’t blame me.” you whispered to jay as you ran your fingers lightly through his hair with a smile.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

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beachlifelez · 2 months ago

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At Holloway School for Young Women, Professor Anita Davis knew how to keep her students’ attention during class. She also paid close attention to which of her students that day was the most “fidgety” reacting to her appearance.

Today, it seemed that Elizabeth Wilson was certainly a bit over-stimulated. It being the last class of the day, Elizabeth would be spending some time after class with Anita.

During their private session Anita was happy to open her blouse for Elizabeth and encourage her to deal with her fidgetiness. Given that approval, Elizabeth pushed up her skirt, pulled her panties aside and began rubbing her aroused pussy. Anita carressed and pinched her breasts, further exciting Elizabeth.

Anita smiled at Elizabeth’s state of horniness. As it became obvious Elizabeth was nearing her climax, Anita walked around her desk and knelt in front of her. She looked up and smiled.

“Very good. So lovely.”

And Anita dove in. Elizabeth instinctively spread herself open, giving Anita’s tongue full access. She buried her tongue deep inside Elizabeth, giving herself a face full of Elizabeth’s smell and taste. It was wonderful.

Then, slow licks up and down the lentlgth of Elizabth’a lips, and on each up stroke, finishing with heavy teasing of her clit. Elizabeth was going crazy from this attention. Anita’s focus then centered on producing the orgasm Elizabeth so desperately needed. It came along quickly once Anita’s expert tongue danced on her button with quick short licks.

Anita cupped Elizabeth’s buns as she came, pulling her closer to fully drench her face in wetness. And an aroma that would linger for hours. As Anita came down from her high, Anita disengaged, stood up and buttoned her blouse.

“Well, Elizabeth, I think I should like to see a handwritten paper from you. One thousand words on what you learned today. On my desk tomorrow morning.”

Elizabaeth pulled herself together and stood to leave.

“Yes, Ms. Davis, thank you.”

Off she went to write her paper. One that Anita would add to her collection of similar papers from other students. She did enjoy life at Holloway.

#HolowaySchool #wlw

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lmfaohader · 4 months ago

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"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Same as always. A little mouse standing under a light post. It's snowing, and he's always carrying an umbrella."

"Did he say anything to you in this one?"

"No. He just seemed very scared, and a little sad."

"Well give me the details and I'll add it to the drawing"

I retrieved my sketch book from my bag and turned to the ever familiar page I had been working on for a couple of days. In the middle of the page, a mouse. Oversized yellow clogs, red linen pants, and large black ears on the top of his head. Just as my friend, Jo, always described him. Cheery eyes that she normally described as "oddly sad for such a happy little mouse" and rosy plump cheeks. Beside him, a lamp post, that once I can get to painting (and get the right color), burning with a bright orange light. A pile of snow settled at its base. I took out my pencils, erasers, and blending stump as Jo described the mouse with more details. Today, his umbrella was black but seemingly used very often and the snow glittered when the moon rose above it.

Joanna is an extremely vivid dreamer. I've known her essentially my whole life and have listened to every dream she could ever recount, but lately they've been more and more life-like. It's almost as if she actually goes to wherever it is she's dreaming. Maybe it's her younger mind trying to escape from our reality. We are from the same town in London, and when my parents were called to defend our nation, Jo's mother offered to take me in until they returned. Things only got worse from there. The air raids and constant threats kept flooding into the city. After some time, Jo's mom believed that the city was no longer safe for us. She called upon an old college professor who she had remained in friendly contact with over the years who lived far off in the countryside. He gladly took us in. Jo was extremely upset about leaving, so to help her keep going I told her I would draw whatever she wanted. Now, I have half of a sketchbook filled with her dreams. They're always in immense detail, and are only finished when Jo gives it a seal of approval. They started off really normal. Her house, the view outside of the train window, a field of wildflowers, but the longer we're here the more she dreams of his made up land. A land where a talking lion is supposed to rule, but is being hunted and thwarted by an evil, ice witch. A little mouse who hides from the secret wolf police. A winter that has lasted for over a hundred years. That's the part of it that feels like she actually goes there, she knows some of the history. How the people are waiting for a prophecy to be fulfilled to end the long lasting winter and to find the lion who once ruled over the land.

I looked up to see the sun lowering over the countryside. Jo sat on the tree limb above me. Watching as the colors of the sky change.

"That's it" she said softly

"That's what?" I tried to follow her eyeline to see what she was seeing

"That's the color orange"

She was right. As the sun dipped below, the sky became a bright, burning orange. I tried to think of the time to try and return to this hour tomorrow to mix paints as Jo climbed down from the tree and sat beside me. She scanned my drawing. Ensuring that every detail matched precisely. I lifted the drawing a bit more so she could see.

"How's it looking?" I asked as eraser shavings fell off into the lawn

"It looks good. I think you've perfectly drawn him." she placed her hands against the ground and raised to her feet. "I'm excited to see this one painted. I think it'll be your best yet."

"My best yet huh?"

I closed the book and gathered my materials as we both made our way inside. It was always so quiet in the mansion. As big as it is, the only inhabitants are us, Ms. Macready, and Professor Kirke. It wasn't exactly kid friendly. The halls were lined with perfectly polished artifacts and antiques. An expensive seeming painting hung from nearly every wall. Precisely placed hall runners covering much of the hardwood surface. As soon as we came inside, we took off our shoes and made our way to our room. There were so many doors, and we didn't know what was inside most of them. We were only certain of where our room was and where the Professor's office was.

Professor Kirke was a kind man. Mostly enthusiastic, and extremely excited to have visitors. On the first few days we were here, he noticed our sadness and brought us into his office to tell us some stories from his youth about him and a friend. They seemed to cheer up Jo, for the most part. I just enjoy shutting my brain off and sitting in the comfort of his company. For whatever reason, Ms. Macready (Professor Kirke's housemaid) refuses to let us speak to him without being specifically requested. She says that his work is extremely important and he cannot be disrupted. So, the times we have gotten to speak to him have been scarce.

As we were approaching our room, a stern voice called to us.

"Girls, Professor Kirke would like to see you"

Appearing, seemingly out of nowhere, Ms. Macready stood at the top of the stairs leading to our room. Jo and I traded a knowing look, thanked her and made our way to the Professor's office. Upon arrival, I knocked on the door as Jo waited patiently behind me.

"Oh! Come in! It's open!"

We pushed open the door and entered the pristinely kept office. Neatly dusted, books alphabetized, pencils sharpened in their cup, leather chair shining from a real good polish. Professor Kirke smiled as we entered and gestured for us to take a seat in the brown plush chairs in front of his desk.

"I hope I have not disturbed your evening" he said as he closed the book he was studying and pushed it back into its spot. "But I had some news that pertained to the both of you since you bot-"

His sentence was cut short as his eyes landed on the sketchbook in my arms. I could feel my face get a bit hot. I had never really shown an adult my drawings. Only Jo had seen the contents of these pages before.

"Oh my, it seems we have an artist on our hands. May I?"

"Oh, yes you may" I spoke through a knot in my throat as I placed the book into his outstretched hand and felt suddenly as if my stomach plummeted.

Professor Kirke smiled gently at me as he placed the book onto his desk. He flipped to the first page. He studied it for a moment, then nodded and flipped onwards. With every page his smile grew. You could feel the child-like giddy as he moved onwards. My nervousness seemed to fade and become replaced with pride. I thought they were good, but it was really nice to see it written on someone's face.

"Lacey, these drawings ar-"

Professor Kirke's voice stopped abruptly. There was a sudden shift in his demeanor. The always happy and smiling professor was replaced with a shell. His eyes filled with a mixture of fear and sadness. His mouth slightly agape, as if frozen in place from speaking to me before. My mind raced to think of what drawing could possibly cause this reaction, but they were mostly buildings and scenescapes. He turned the book towards us and pushed it to where we could see it.

"How do you know of this place?" He asked as he pointed to a scenescape of a dark, frozen castle, covered in snow with icicles dripping from every ledge and a pack of wolves surrounding the drawbridge. Sculptures of animals made of ice sat right inside the front gate.

"Jo dreamed of it. She said it was the castle of the evil, ice witch. Right?" I looked to her for an explanation as Professor Kirke's head snapped in her direction.

"Elsa the White Witch" Jo responded, bringing the page closer to her, "she created the everlasting winter. She is their self proclaimed ruler, but they're just waiting for the prophecy to happen."

"You never said she had a name" I wracked my brain for any mention of this name before, but came up with nothing.

"I didn't learn it until recently," Jo shrugged and followed very matter of factly. "Or you would've"

"Did you say you learned this recently?" The Professor asked

"Yeah. Maybe a few nights ago."

"But where?"

"I go there in my dreams. That world needs help, and I've been trying to understand what's going on so that maybe I can help." she explained as she flipped through the sketchbook. "Lacey's drawings help me remember so I'm really starting to put it together now"

"How can you help a dreamland Jo?" I asked

"Don't sell her so short" Professor Kirke responded softly as he poured over the drawing. His sadness seemed to grow as he did.

"Just because you've never seen it doesn't mean it isn't real," Jo said. "I don't just make things up you know"

"I didn't mean it that way" I announced as I closed the book and took it back in my arms. "I don't think you make things up, but you yourself have to admit that it is extremely far-fetched."

"I don't admit anything" Jo snapped, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I know what's real and what isn't Lacey. That place is real. I can feel it."

"She does explain it with great detail" the Professor chimed in motioning towards the book in my arms. "Otherwise you could not have such detailed drawings. Down to the color of the ice sculptures and the way the stars align in the sky."

I stared blankly at him. He spoke with confidence. Almost as if he understood her.

"Professor Kirke," I said, "do you believe this land exists?"

He stared back at me. His round spectacles dramatize his very determined look. I could see the spark in his eyes. As if hearing a call to action. He looked down at the sketchbook once more then shook his head slightly as if to awaken himself from whatever came over him. Jo sighed and I could feel her disappointment from the response. I sighed as well and began to rise from my seat to leave when Professor Kirke spoke again.

"There is another family coming to stay with us until everything in London calms down"

"Another family?" Jo asked, seeming to pep up a bit from her disappointment.

"Yes Jo" he replied, "Four children. Two older siblings more Lacey's age, and two younger children more your age. They should be here within the next few days. Perhaps, you both could make a friend or two."

I nodded to him, and then left for Jo and I's room. It wasn't much. Two twin beds, decorated with the same bland sheets. Jo's books sat on her bedside table, and a desk under the window overlooking the front of the mansion held many different colors of paint along with a couple of pencils and a clock. How else was I to make the color of the sky if I couldn't look at it? I slammed down into the chair and flipped through the sketchbook. Hoping anything would seem to line up. To tell a story. To help me understand what was going on. But I could find nothing in these scenescapes to give me answers. If only I could draw people, I thought to myself, maybe it'd be easier to understand. Maybe I could see what they see. After minutes of examining every page, every rock, every stream, every flake of snow I closed the book defeated. I looked out to the sky made navy blue in the light of the moon. Almost, like the sky above that little mouse.

-Lacey

You can find the rest of this story on my Wattpad @ stfumendes it’s titled Disnia. There will be three books and love interest for both boys. 💕

#golden age narnia #narnia edit #narnia #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #golden age edmund pevensie #susan pevensie #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader

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traningdummy · 2 years ago

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Detective and Professor

Javier Peña X professor! Male Reader

(power bottom Javier is amazing is write, omg)

Javier sighed as he walked through his room, as today a class was coming through the department today. His chief had apparently approved the local college’s criminal justice class to come through. He wanted to stay out of the department, but his boss needed him to show them around.

After he got his clothes on he got his badge and left, loving the wind on his hair. When he made it to the department the class wasn’t there yet, so he decided to go inside to make sure his desk was clear. Yet when he walked inside, the class was already there.

Students left and right, each talking to cops, detectives, and new recruits. Javier sighed and tried to get through unnoticed till he bumped into someone. He almost fell before he caught himself.

“I am so sorry!” The person said, Javier sighed before looking at the person. The man was surprisingly very handsome, wearing a nice suit, with a possibly new hat. “Again, so sorry sir I’m looking for Javier Peña have you seen him?” The man asked and he sighed before nodding.

“That’s me, let me guess I’m supposed to show you around?” Javier said and the man sheepishly nodded.

“Students gather up!” The man yelled to his class, to Javier’s surprise they all listened. The man counted all of the students before nodding, and gave out some papers. “Remember, take notes as we will have a small worksheet about this tomorrow.” He informed the class, most nodded and a few others sighed.

“Let’s get the tour started.” Javier spoke and led them through the department, the evidence room, while also noticing the professor’s stare. Javier would catch him staring, he found it funny that the man was blatantly staring.

•••

The students all split up again, leaving Y/n with Javier. Both drinking coffee, Y/n’s face red as he was caught multiple times staring at Javier’s body. Javier had a smirk seeing the other man all flustered.

“What were you staring at?” Javier asked the professor as he took another sip of his coffee. The other man sputtered but didn’t answer as his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Your ass, sorry if I invaded your space Javier.” Y/n mumbled, trying to be sincere but also not have his students hear him. He wouldn’t want to be tormented by them as well. “Please don’t tell my students anything.” He asked Javier who nodded.

“I don’t want to embarrass you that much, I never caught your name. What is it?” Javier asked and put down his mug.

“Oh, it’s Y/n L/n, I teach the criminal justice class at the college. Nice to meet you Javier.” He said and the two shook hands. They began to talk to one another, as the ice had broke. Y/n’s students saw their professor and knew they were going to mess with him.

•••

A few weeks after Y/n took his students to the department, he and Javier talked a lot. In his free time he would call the man to talk, or go to the department. On some rare occasions Javier would come to his classroom, sometimes when it’s empty but often when it’s full.

Javier became a class favorite during the weeks he came, always having interesting stories to provide to the class. Some good, and some not so good, he mostly had stories where he had sex to get information.

But Y/n fell hard for the man, having his heart always flutter whenever he came in unannounced. It felt like he was on cloud nine, and even his students could see the love in his eyes. They all shipped the two, always smiling whenever Javier came in to share another story.

So, with the help of a few of his students, he got the courage to ask Javier to the teacher student prom. A night where teachers can watch and even party with the students, with many restrictions imposed. But regardless every teacher got a plus one, and Y/n wanted it to be Javier.

So he went to the department after grading, thankfully he caught Javier as he was leaving. “Hey Javier!” He yelled to get the man’s attention. Javier looked over and gave a faint smile, putting away his suitcase and leaned against his car.

“Hey Y/n, let me guess you forgot another pen?” He asked, as it was Y/n’s usual excuse to hang out with Javier. The professor shook his head with a sheepish grin.

“No, I have all of mine, I double checked. I actually had a question to ask. Would you like to be my plus one to a dance?” Y/n asked, giving him a flyer for the dance. Javier looked at Y/n before skimming through, seeing it was legit.

“Hmm, I’ll see if I can make it. No promises.” He said, and Y/n nodded. He was happy the other man even considered the invitation. “See you later professor.” He said, getting into his car and drove off.

•••

The night of the dance was a stressful one for Y/n, he had to find a good suit. One that wasn’t too flashy yet enough to make him stand out a little. Yet once he was dressed and ready he headed to the campus.

When he arrived he got there early enough to help set up, saying his greetings to the other teachers. Yet sadly his suit got unwanted attention by a few of his colleagues. Feeling stares on his body as he walked around and helped, it made him feel uncomfortable but he didn’t say much.

Finally the dance was all set up, both students and teachers came flooding into the large gym. Y/n decided to stay near the drink station to make sure no one spiked the punch. Yet he also looked around for Javier.

Javier sighed as he looked into his closet, all he had were a few shirts and pants. It was a dance and he wanted to dress somewhat nice for Y/n, but he decided against it. Getting on what he thought looked good and left for the campus, following the directions on the flyer.

When he arrived there were already many people outside the gym. He parked his car and went into the gym, where he had to show his invite to a security guard. Inside there was music blaring, students dancing, teachers talking amongst themselves.

Yet as he looked he couldn’t find Y/n, so he went further in to get a better look around. Which was a terrible idea as many people crowded him, lightly shoving him around. Thankfully someone pulled him out of the chaos.

“Finally!” Y/n said as he pulled Javier to the drink stand. “You want some?” He asked and the man nodded, taking the cup from Y/n. “So you showed up, I’m glad.” He said with a smile, taking a sip from his own drink.

As the two talked to each other they enjoyed themselves. Even though the music was loud, students were yelling to talk to one another, they felt like it was only them in the room. But the mood was ruined when one of the teachers came up to them.

“Hey Y/n!” She said with a smile, she was obviously intoxicated as both men could smell the vodka on her breath. “Wanna have a dance?” She asked, and Y/n being too nice for his own good said yes.

“I’ll be back!” He yelled to Javier as he was dragged to the dance floor. Javier grumbled as he felt his throat feel constricted and it burned. He wanted to yell at the woman for taking Y/n, but he didn’t want to get in trouble.

Yet he watched Y/n and the woman like a hawk as they danced, making sure she kept her hands off of him. Yet whenever a slow song finally came on she had her hands on his shoulders. Y/n looked uncomfortable but didn’t say anything as he ghosted his hands over her waist.

Yet whenever she squeezed Y/n’s ass, that was the straw that broke Javier’s patience. He stood up and went to Y/n’s rescue, taking her hands off of his shoulders. “Sorry ma’am but we have to get home, our babysitter has to get home.” He said with malice in his voice.

Before she could complain Javier took Y/n and they left the gym. Heading outside and to his car, Y/n sighed and leaned against the man's car. Finally relaxing after getting away from the teacher, he loosened his tie before giving Javier a smile.

“Thank you Javier, if we kept going I was scared I would get drunk from her breath.” He joked and the man laughed, slowing cornering Y/n. Putting his hands on either side of the professor, pinning him to the car. “Woah, umm, is it just me or are you heating up?” Y/n asked as he chuckled nervously.

Javier didn’t say anything as he looked Y/n in the eyes. Waiting for any form of confirmation, which he found when the other man put his hands on his face. He leaned into his hands before leaning in, kissing the man softly. “Huh, tastes like punch and beer.” He mumbled, going in for another kiss, this time going for Y/n’s neck.

“Fuck, Javier I think we should do this someplace else. I don’t want to get called into the deans office for public indecency.” Y/n said, worried about losing his job. Javier nodded and the two got into his car, thankfully for Y/n he didn’t bring his car as he walked to the campus.

•••

Javier began his merciless attack on Y/n’s neck as soon as the door to his apartment closed. The professor moaned and whined, trying to take off his suit. Yet when he gave up Javier helped him, which stopped the assault on Y/n’s neck for a moment.

When it was off Javier ripped off the rest of Y/n’s clothes, wanting to see the man he dreamed of naked. They moved to his couch and Javier straddled Y/n’s lap, feeling his cock go hard against his own. Javier took off his own clothes faster then he took off Y/n’s.

“Jesus, you’re so handsome.” Y/n said between his groans and moans, Javier smiled and leaned the man down on his couch. Back against the couch while his chest was exposed, Javier then removed both his and Y/n’s boxers revealing their cocks.

“Could you sit on my face?” Y/n asked, almost taking the man above him off guard. “I just stare at your ass, and I just wanted to eat you out. Oh my god I sound like a pervert.” He said and Javier laughed, he scooted up and slowly lowered himself onto Y/n.

Soon enough the man was eating him out, Javier was moaning at the feeling. “Esto parece divino.” He moaned, never feeling any sensation like this before. It was a welcoming feeling, he could get used to this. The feeling of Y/n’s tongue in his ass, eating him out like a meal.

But he needed more, he needed to claim the man below him. So, much to Y/n’s dismay, he moved back to his hips. “Aww, I didn’t get to finish.” Y/n complained, yet he stopped his whining when he saw what Javier had planned next. The man positioned himself above Y/n’s cock before lowering himself onto it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The man below Javier mumbled, and soon he bottomed out. Both men took a few breaths before Javier began to ride, loving the man under him unraveled with pleasure. The dorky and pervy professor who he crushed on, became his.

He saw Y/n’s hands try to hold his hips, but he moved them up above his head. “No touching.” He said sternly, the man nodded and let Javier keep going. Javier could feel how much Y/n wanted to touch him as his hands shook in his hold, it made him smirk, feeling how desperate the man was.

Soon Y/n came into Javier, his hips thrusting into him as he did. But Javier hadn’t released yet, so he took the time he needed to finish. “J-Javier.” Y/n whimpered, feeling the overstimulation as the man above him kept riding.

“You can keep going, can’t you cariño?” He asked, and Y/n nodded, not wanting to disappoint the man. So he endured the overstimulation in his cock as Javier kept riding, chasing his own high. Yet he decided to let go of Y/n’s hands, thinking he was too overwhelmed to touch his hips.

He was right as Y/n’s hands only touched Javier’s chest, feeling him up and down. Keeping his hands away from Javier’s hips, wanting to be a good man for Javier. Soon Y/n felt Javier slow his pace, thinking he was soon to finish yet the man had other plans.

He moved himself to where his cock was in front of Y/n’s face. “Open.” He said and the professor obliged, opening his mouth to let the man abuse it. Javier thrusted in and out, loving the sound of Y/n slightly choking on him. Thankfully he started to feel his climax, so he gave a few more hard thrusts before releasing in Y/n’s throat.

“Oh fuck.” He mumbled as he pulled out his cock, seeing that Y/n had taken all the cum Javier had shot. He thought he was tired, but when he saw Y/n’s fucked out expression he felt ready for another round.

•••

The next day Y/n had hickey’s all over his body, neck, and legs. His students snickered amongst each other already knowing what had conspired. Y/n sighed and opened his suitcase to see a small note from Javier, as he read it he smiled before putting it away.

#x male reader #gay #pedro pascal x male reader #male reader #male reader smut #javier peña x male reader #smut

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mrsportgas · 4 months ago

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The Neightbor. Chapter 5

Summary: The story takes place in the real world. Shanks, your unbearable neighbor, makes you a proposition that you're unsure whether to reject. It could be the start of a friendship, or maybe something more?

SHANKS X YOU

WARNING: Except for the first chapter, the rest will contain scenes of sex and violence, making this fanfic strictly +18.

TAG LIST: @buggsclownie @commanderfreethatdust @nocturnalrorobin @candy1277 @bluetokie

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

I hung up the phone and, for a moment, I stood still, feeling my heart pounding. I couldn’t believe what I had just done. I had played with fire, challenging Shanks in a way I’d never imagined.

I checked the time. I had to leave immediately. I grabbed my underwear from the floor and put it back on. It was true I had said that to Shanks, but I couldn’t go to a final presentation like that. I’d figure out how to handle it later so he wouldn’t notice.

With my project folder under my arm and a deep breath to calm my nerves, I headed to the university. As I walked through the campus, I could feel the energy of the event already buzzing in the air. The decorations were nearly finished, and the organizers were moving around, making sure everything was perfect. But my mind kept wandering between Shanks' words and the pressure I felt about the presentation.

“Focus,” I whispered to myself. This is important.

I arrived at the auditorium where I was supposed to meet Beckman and tried to shake off the last remnants of distraction. As I entered, I saw him sitting at a table, reviewing some papers with his typical serious yet friendly expression. Beckman had always been a mentor, someone I could trust to give me his honest opinion, without sugarcoating.

“Y/N, right on time,” he said, glancing up and giving me a slight smile when he saw me enter.

“Hi, professor. Is everything ready for tomorrow?” I tried to sound relaxed, but my nerves betrayed me.

“Everything is in order,” he replied, gesturing to the chair in front of him. “Let’s quickly go over your presentation. I want to make sure you’re not missing anything and that you’re completely prepared.”

I sat down, pulling the documents from my folder. I was confident I had done a good job, but Beckman’s approval was key to putting me at ease. Over the next few minutes, we reviewed every slide, every key point of my presentation. Beckman nodded frequently, making small corrections here and there, but he didn’t dwell too much on the details.

Finally, he set the papers aside and looked at me with a smile of approval.

“Perfect, Y/N. You’ve done an exceptional job. I have nothing more to correct,” he said, crossing his arms. “The only thing left is to prepare for the social part—the party.”

I returned his smile, feeling more relieved than I expected.

“Thank you, professor. It really means a lot to me.”

“I know,” he replied, his tone more serious. “But remember, getting an investor isn’t just about a good presentation. The most important part happens at the party, when you have the chance to speak with them directly. That’s where you need to be smart.”

I adjusted in my seat, paying close attention to every word.

“The key is to make the investors feel comfortable with you. Don’t overwhelm them right away with too much technical information. That will come later. First, connect with them. Talk about yourself, your passions, why this project is important to you, and how it could make a difference. If you get them interested in you as a person, they’ll be more willing to listen to your idea.”

I nodded, mentally noting every piece of advice. I knew Beckman was right. Having an innovative project wasn’t enough; I needed them to see me—the person behind the project.

“And above all, don’t get discouraged if you don’t secure something tomorrow. Sometimes the seeds you plant today don’t bear fruit until much later. The important thing is to make a good impression,” Beckman concluded with an encouraging look.

“Understood. Thank you again, professor.”

Beckman stood up and gave me a light tap on the shoulder.

“Trust yourself, Y/N. You have everything you need to succeed. Just remember to enjoy it, too.”

I left the auditorium feeling more prepared, but still with that mix of nerves and anticipation.

I glanced out the hallway window, not really expecting Shanks to have shown up. I walked through the parking lot from top to bottom, and… there it was: his Range Rover parked at one end, right in the front row.

Nervousness shot through my body. Had he really come? Was it just because of the challenge, or did he actually want to see me?

At that moment, our conversation and my underwear came to mind… I had to make a decision, and honestly, walking through the university without them felt a bit bold, considering my skirt barely covered the essentials. I decided to take the risk and ran to the bathroom, slipping them off and tucking them deep into my bag, so Shanks would never find out.

I stepped into the hallway carefully, walking slowly but confidently, heading toward the parking lot with deliberate steps, trying to keep calm as my heart raced. With each step, the reality of what I was about to do washed over me. Seeing Shanks in person, after everything we had talked about, and on top of that, without the underwear I had just stashed in my bag, added a level of tension I was struggling to control.

There it was—his Range Rover, parked in the front row, just as I had seen from afar. Shanks was sitting inside, his arm resting on the window, a carefree expression on his face. As I got closer, his eyes met mine, and his smile widened in that playful way, as if he already knew the effect he had on me.

I took a deep breath, trying to maintain composure as I approached the passenger door. The moment I opened the door and got into the car, I could feel his gaze on me, like he was assessing every move I made. I couldn’t help but feel my skin tingle under his scrutiny.

Shanks was wearing a white shirt with a few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his muscular chest. The shirt was tucked into jeans that paired nicely with some sleek dress shoes. I couldn’t help but take in his whole figure—he was handsome, too handsome.

“Shall we go?” Shanks asked in that casual, flirty tone he always used, accompanying his words with a playful smile. “I had to swing by work, but now I’m all yours.”

I buckled my seatbelt, trying not to let my face betray the mix of nerves and excitement I felt. I turned to him, trying to appear more confident than I actually was.

“And where do you plan on taking me?” I replied, keeping my tone neutral but with a suggestive smile on my lips.

Shanks chuckled softly as he started the car and began to maneuver out of the parking lot.

“I have a place in mind,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

The car moved off smoothly, and as we left the university behind, my mind kept racing. The sensation of being without underwear kept me on edge, but it also gave me a rush of adrenaline I hadn’t expected. The atmosphere in the car was thick with that tension that always lingered between us, but this time it felt more intense, like every word, every look carried a different weight.

Shanks drove with the same confidence he always seemed to carry in life, one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on the window. Every now and then, he’d glance at me quickly, as if enjoying watching me try to keep my cool.

“I love it when you get all serious like that,” he said, breaking the silence. “I can almost see your mind racing a thousand miles an hour.”

I couldn’t help but smile, though I tried to hide it.

“And what makes you think I’m thinking about you?” I replied, raising an eyebrow, teasing him with the idea of a challenge.

Shanks let out a short laugh and shook his head.

“I don’t need to think it. I know it,” he replied, his tone confident, without a trace of doubt. “But don’t worry, tonight you don’t have to think about anything. In fact, I need to unwind too.”

The car turned onto a side road, taking us away from the city’s hustle. Soon, trees began to line the road, and the streetlights faded, leaving only the moon and the car’s headlights to illuminate our path. The atmosphere became more intimate, more secluded, and I could feel the anticipation building in the air.

After about ten minutes of driving, the car began to climb up a steep road. I knew we were nearing something, but I had no idea where he was taking me. Finally, after a few more minutes, Shanks parked at a small lookout, surrounded by trees and nature.

“We’re here,” he announced with a smile as he turned off the engine.

I looked around, and my breath caught for a moment. The view was breathtaking. In front of us, the city lights stretched out in the distance, glowing like stars beneath the night sky. The scene was spectacular, and the silence around us, broken only by the soft sound of the wind, made everything feel even more magical.

Shanks turned toward me, quickly unbuckling my seatbelt.

“Spread your legs,” he said in a serious, almost demanding tone.

I couldn’t help but blush, my face burning at his words, and my heart began to race.

I did as he told me and opened my legs. With confident movements, he slid his hand between my thighs as he leaned closer to my ear. His hand explored my intimate parts.

“So it was true, you went to the university without anything on,” he whispered flirtatiously in my ear. “I didn’t think you’d be capable… of letting just anyone see my precious… pussy.”

Mine? Had he really just said it was his?

I bit my lip, the tension building with each passing minute, Shanks’ hand unmoving, and my breathing growing heavier.

He licked his lips. “Get in the back,” he said, pulling his hand away and unbuckling his seatbelt.

I opened the car door, trying to pull myself together, and opened the back door, slipping inside. Shanks followed, undoing a few more buttons on his shirt and looking at me intensely.

Once he got into the car and sat down, he took my hand. “Come here,” he said with a big smile, and in one swift motion, I was sitting on his lap.

His hand ran over my body from top to bottom, finally reaching my thighs, slowly moving upward. I leaned in to kiss him as my breathing quickened, and his lips curved into a smile. “So needy already.”

I shivered at his words. The truth was, I had missed him, and the desire to be with him was betraying me. I smiled slightly and moved closer to his lips, pressing them together in a passionate kiss. His hands slowly traveled up my thighs until they reached my intimate parts, exploring again until one hand found its way to my clit.

Shanks began to make small, perfectly coordinated movements. He already knew exactly where my weak spots were, where he needed to touch. With every movement of his fingers, his name slipped from my mouth, whispered directly into his ear. Suddenly, he gently but decisively slid two fingers inside me and paused for a moment, waiting for my response.

I jumped slightly from the surprise and sensation, and Shanks let out a soft chuckle. “Good?”

I nodded, and he gave me a small kiss on the forehead as his fingers began to move.

My moans filled the space; it was clear he knew exactly where to touch, and he was putting special care and effort into it.

“You know, darling? It drives me crazy how my name comes out of your mouth. Now I’m the needy one.” Shanks pulled his fingers out of me and brought both hands to his pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly, giving space for his now prominent bulge. His eyes met mine with a challenging look. “Fuck me,” he said, trying to imitate my voice and gestures from the other night when I had said the exact same thing.

I stood up as best as I could, giving him as much space as possible, gesturing for him to lower his pants.

When I took them off, I quickly placed myself on top of him again, feeling his member on my lower parts. I pulled back a little and took his cock in my hands, massaging it up and down. While Shanks let out all kinds of grunts and clung to the seat.

After a while when he had reached his peak, I withdrew my hands to get closer to him, approaching his neck to bite him fiercely while he introduced his member inside me. While we were both breathing hard.

"Fuck.. you always so tight darling?" Shanks' breathing was getting heavier.

I gave myself some time to adjust to him, and began to move, increasing the speed and intensity more and more, while Shanks licked and massaged my breasts when the moans allowed him.

We were both enjoying it, and I decided to go a little further, doing it slower and harder, doing small thrusts and moving my body in small circles. We both began to moan, the ecstasy did not allow us to say anything at all, it seemed that Shanks for the first time had been left speechless, and I would not last much longer.

"If you keep this up, I'm going to cum…"

Hearing that, I positioned myself closer again, increasing my speed a little more and letting myself be carried away by the pleasure. As soon as he noticed my juices and convulsions, he let himself go, exploding with a loud growl.

After a few minutes of catching his breath, Shanks put his clothes back on, got out of the car, and to my surprise, I saw him pull a thick, dark-colored blanket from the trunk. He folded it over his arm and shot me a knowing look. "Come on, I want to show you something."

I quickly got dressed and stepped out of the car to find Shanks. Leaning against the car door, he waited calmly, a casual smile on his face. He jumped up onto the car hood and spread the blanket over it, offering me his hand to join him. I settled next to him, and we both lay down, gazing up at the sky. The air was crisp, and the silence of the place wrapped around us like an invisible blanket. For a few minutes, we stayed like that, simply watching the stars, until Shanks broke the silence.

"Look, there's the Big Dipper," he said, pointing to the sky. "It's one of the easiest to spot. And right there…" he leaned a little closer to me, his fingers almost touching mine as he pointed to another spot in the sky, "…that's Orion, the hunter."

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, his profile softly illuminated by the starlight. His expression was serene, but there was something in his tone, in the way he spoke to me, that made me feel like this moment was more than just a simple astronomy lesson.

"Have you always been a fan of the stars?" I asked quietly, trying to break the growing tension between us.

Shanks turned his face towards me, his smile reappearing.

"I've always liked clear skies, but…" he paused, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something deeper, "…tonight the stars have some tough competition."

Before I could fully process what he had just said, Shanks leaned in and kissed me. It was soft at first, but soon the kiss grew more intense, more assured. My hands found their way to his chest, and for a few moments, I let myself get lost in the warmth of his body, in the way his lips fit perfectly with mine.

When we finally pulled apart, Shanks looked at me with a playful yet tender smile.

"I knew you'd like the stars," he teased, his voice soft, though his eyes were serious.

The drive home was quiet. We got back quickly, the lookout wasn’t far.

Shanks got out of the car, walking over to my door and taking my hand. "Good luck tomorrow, princess. See you on Saturday," he said as he kissed my hand, then turned to walk to his own door.

I stepped inside, my mind still spinning from everything that had happened, and just as I was taking off my shoes, I saw Nami sitting on the couch, looking at me with a knowing smile.

"Well?" she asked, her tone playful. "How was the 'meeting'?"

I flopped onto the couch beside her and sighed.

"It was… unexpected."

Nami raised an eyebrow.

"Unexpected, huh? Come on, spill."

And then, unable to stop the smile that spread across my face, I told her everything. From the moment I saw Shanks at the window to the kiss under the stars.

"Y/N, you two slept together and you’re excited over a simple kiss? You’re so strange," she laughed.

“It’s in those moments that my heart tells me maybe it’s not just about sex, that I mean more to him. But I still don’t know.” I replied with a smile, glancing at Nami.

However, something about her expression made me realize she was lost in her own thoughts, uneasy. She was nervously playing with her hair, something she only did when dealing with something important.

“Are you okay?” I asked, trying to get her attention.

Nami stopped twirling her hair and sighed deeply, as if searching for the courage to say what was on her mind.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” she said, her voice softer than usual, almost hesitant.

I sat up straighter, my senses on alert. Nami wasn’t one to lose her composure easily, and when she did, it meant something serious was happening.

“Tell me, what’s going on?” I urged gently.

She bit her lower lip, clearly struggling with her thoughts. After a long silence, she finally spoke.

“It’s my supervisor,” she whispered.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. I knew she had been spending a lot of time with him, preparing for her presentation, but she hadn’t given me many details about their relationship. Something in her tone, however, told me this was much bigger.

“What about him?” I asked, sensing something unexpected was about to be revealed.

Nami took a deep breath, closing her eyes as if bracing herself for a confession she had been holding in for some time.

“He kissed me.”

My eyes widened. That wasn’t what I had expected to hear.

“What? When did that happen?” I asked, still in shock.

She let out the breath she’d been holding and looked at me, her face a mixture of excitement and confusion.

“It was yesterday, after one of our work sessions. Everything was normal, we were going over the final details of my presentation. But when we finished, he got closer than usual, and before I realized it, he kissed me.”

I sat there, processing the situation.

“And what did you do?” I asked, needing to know every detail.

Nami smiled, but it was a shy, almost embarrassed smile.

“I kissed him back. I didn’t push him away or stop him. In fact… I liked it.”

My mind paused for a second. I knew Nami to be professional, always maintaining boundaries in difficult situations, so this surprised me.

“Wait, do you like your supervisor? So what you said at the party on Saturday wasn’t a joke?” I asked, trying to piece it all together.

She nodded slowly, her cheeks flushing.

“Yeah… and I don’t know how to feel about it. He’s a bit older than us and he’s my mentor, which complicates things. But, Y/N, I really like him. I’m not sure how it happened, but the more time I spend with him, the more I realize I’m attracted to him.”

I was stunned. I’d never seen Nami so unsure about matters of the heart.

“And what about him?” I asked cautiously. “Did he say anything after the kiss?”

Nami nodded, her eyes shining with a hint of hope.

“After the kiss, he apologized, but not in a way that made me feel rejected. He said he couldn’t help it, that he’s been feeling something for me for a while, but he didn’t want it to interfere with my work or my future.”

I could see the conflict in her face. She was torn between the professional and the personal, a dilemma that wasn’t easy to solve.

“Nami, this is complicated,” I said, trying to find the right balance in my words. “I understand that you like him, and it’s clear he feels something for you too. But you need to think about how this could affect you, especially with your presentation so close.”

She nodded, her eyes focused on her hands.

“I know. That’s why I’m so nervous. Tomorrow’s the presentation, and I don’t want this to distract me. But I can’t help thinking about what all this means for afterward… What if it goes further? What if it doesn’t work out?”

“You can’t have all the answers right now,” I said gently. “What’s important is that tomorrow you focus on your presentation. Do your best, and after, once things have calmed down, talk to him. Clear the air about what you both feel, but don’t put too much pressure on it.”

Nami looked at me, her eyes filled with gratitude.

“You’re right. Right now, I need to focus on my academic future. I can’t let this distract me… but I can’t deny I want to see where things go with him.”

I smiled, relieved to see her more determined.

“You’re incredibly strong, Nami. I know you’ll do great tomorrow, and afterward, you’ll have time to figure things out with him.”

Nami smiled back, though still a bit nervous.

“Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“We’re a team,” I replied, squeezing her hand gently.

We sat in silence for a moment, both reflecting on what lay ahead. Nami had a mountain of emotions to deal with, but I knew she could handle it. Tomorrow would be a crucial day for both of us.

It was the afternoon of the big day, and nerves coursed through every inch of my body as I mentally reviewed my presentation. I was confident in what I had prepared, thanks to Beckman’s guidance, but the pressure of securing an investor was overwhelming. Everything was ready: slides double-checked, words memorized… yet the anxiety lingered.

I was in my room, organizing my papers, when I heard the sound of the door opening. I looked up to see Nami walking in, a mischievous smile on her face and a large package in her hands. The box was a creamy color, elegant, with the logo of Éclat Boutique, the most expensive shop in town.

“What’s that?” I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.

Nami approached and placed the box on the table, gesturing for me to open it.

“It’s for you. It just arrived at the door,” she said, her smile growing. “There’s a note, too.”

I stared at her, confused. “There’s been a mistake. I didn’t order anything.”

“Open it,” Nami chuckled.

With trembling hands, I opened the box, and instantly, my eyes widened in amazement. Inside was a dress… but not just any dress. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. A soft crimson red, perfectly cut to fall just above the ankles, elegant and sophisticated. The fabric seemed to flow like water, with a slight shimmer under the light. It was a dream dress, the kind you only imagined wearing on a special occasion, and it came from the most exclusive store in town.

“This can’t be real…” I whispered, stroking the delicate fabric.

Amused, Nami pointed to the small card next to the dress.

“You might want to read the note,” she said, crossing her arms and waiting for me to open it.

I took the card in my hands, still feeling a mixture of surprise and nervousness. As I opened it, my heart skipped a beat.

“As soon as I saw it, I knew it was for you. Good luck. I know you’ll shine.”

“Shanks…” I murmured, a wave of emotions rushing through me.

Nami, who had been watching my reaction with a mischievous grin, let out a small laugh.

“This is too much…” I mumbled, still processing what had just happened.

“Come on, Y/N. This dress is perfect for you. And when was the last time you treated yourself to something this nice?” Nami said, stepping closer to admire the dress.

“You’re right,” I replied, smiling. “It’s perfect.”

Nami looked at me with a mix of excitement and complicity.

“Well, don’t get too sentimental now. Go try it on and make sure you’re ready to dazzle everyone at that event.”

I stood up, still feeling the flutter of excitement in my stomach. I took the dress to the bathroom, and as I put it on, I was surprised at how well it fit. It was as if the dress had been tailored just for me. The way it fell, the color—everything made me feel different, more confident, more like myself.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Nami’s jaw dropped.

“Wow, Y/N… you look stunning.”

I laughed, but inside, the nerves of seeing him that night were still there, mixed with the pressure of the presentation.

Nami and I had spent the entire afternoon getting ready. She was just as nervous as I was, though she tried to hide it. As I looked at myself in the mirror, adjusting the final details of the red dress Shanks had sent, I still couldn’t believe it. The simple fact that he had sent me something so spectacular gave me a small boost of confidence I desperately needed.

We got in the car, and as we drove to the auditorium, my mind was focused on every word I had to say, every point I needed to emphasize. I knew I couldn’t let my nerves get the best of me. I had to stay composed, remember Beckman’s advice, and trust that I was prepared for this opportunity.

When we arrived at the auditorium, the pressure intensified, but Nami, always optimistic, gave me a quick hug and looked at me with determination.

“We’re going to nail this! Let’s go!”

We entered the auditorium, and the magnitude of the event hit me. There were more people than I expected. The other speakers seemed so confident, so focused, as they prepared for their own presentations. I was up first, so I didn’t have much time to dwell on my doubts. The minutes flew by, and soon I was called to the stage.

I took a deep breath, remembering that everything I had worked for culminated in this moment. I walked to the center of the stage, my heart racing, but with the conviction that what I had prepared was good enough. More than that, it was brilliant.

I started my presentation with a shaky voice, but little by little, I found my rhythm. The words flowed smoothly, my ideas well-structured, and I could feel that I had captured the audience’s attention. As I progressed, my confidence grew. Beckman had been right—I was ready.

But then, something unexpected happened.

Suddenly, a loud noise broke the silence in the auditorium. The main door swung open, and all eyes turned toward the entrance. I tried not to get distracted, but when I saw who it was, my heart nearly stopped.

It was Shanks.

Dressed in a sharp black suit, his hair slightly tousled but with that signature air of confidence. He walked in with a relaxed stride, as if time and space adjusted to his rhythm. He made no effort to conceal his entrance or apologize for interrupting the presentation. The door slammed shut behind him, and for a moment, the entire auditorium fell silent, waiting.

“What is he doing here?” was all I could think. My mind was in complete disarray. I was momentarily speechless, completely stunned. But what shocked me the most was where he went.

Shanks, with all the calm in the world, walked directly toward the VIP section—the area reserved for the city’s most important investors and businesspeople. He sat comfortably in one of the front-row seats, as if he belonged there. He nodded to a few of the attendees, and everyone looked at him with evident respect.

The entire auditorium was even more expectant, including me. Who was Shanks, really? Why was he sitting in the VIP section? What on earth was happening? Questions swirled in my head, and that awful ringing started in my ears, the kind that signaled everything was about to fall apart. But I couldn’t let panic take over. I had to keep going. I was in the middle of my presentation, and I couldn’t let his arrival throw me off.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. I felt the nervousness creeping in, but I closed my eyes for a second, recalling Beckman’s words and the confidence I had built up until that moment. I had to keep going. I couldn’t let his presence ruin everything

NEXT CHAPTER

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fourthwingfan · 11 months ago

Text

Madness - Chapter 5

Hello there readers. This is the new chapter, I hope you'll like it. It's a tiiny bit long though. I warned you.

Note: Violence, blood, injuries etc.

Ps: I won't be coming with a new chapter for a while because my best friend has a bachelorette party tomorrow, but I start writing the new chapter at Monday. Thanks for your patience.

Knowing I am in direct disagreement with General Melgren’s orders, I am officially objecting to the plan set forth in today’s briefing. It is not this general’s opinion that the children of the rebellion’s leaders should be forced to witness their parents’ executions. No child should watch their parent put to death.

– The Tyrrish Rebellion, an official brief for King Tauri by General Sorrengail

“Welcome to your first Battle Brief” Professor Devera says from the recessed floor of the enermous lecture hall later in the morning, a bright purple Flame Section patch on her shoulder matching her short hair perfectly. This is the only class held in the circular, tiered room that curves the entire end of the academic hall and one of only two rooms in the citadel capable of fitting every cadet. Every creaky wooden seat is full, and the senior third-years are standing against the walls behind us, but we all fit.

It’s a far cry from history last hour, where there were only three squads of first-years, but at least the first-years in our squad are all seated together. Now if I could only remember all their names.

Liam is easy to remember – he was the first who talked to me after Parapet. Somehow we became friends. But if I want to be honest, I don’t mind. He’s really kind and somehow I feel that I can trust him. It’s strange. My father always told me not to trust anyone. And despite my hatred for him, this sentence become one of the pillars which hold my life.

“In the past, riders have seldom been called into service before graduation” Professor Devera continues her mouth tensing as she paces slowly in front of a twenty-foot-high map of the Continent mounted to the back wall that’s intricately labeled with our defensive outposts along our borders. Dozens of mage lights illuminate the space, more than making up for the lack of windows and reflecting off the longsword she keeps strapped to her back.

“And if they were, they were always third-years who’d spent time shadowing forward wings, but we expect you to graduate with the full knowledge of what we’re up against. It’s not about just knowing where every wing is stationed, either.” She takes her time, making eye contact with every first-year she sees. The rank on her shoulder says captain, but I know she’ll be a major before she leaves her rotation teaching here, given the medals pinned on her chest. “You need to understand the politics of our enemies, the strategies of defending our outposts from constant attack, and have a thorough knowledge of both recent and current battles. If you cannot grasp these basic topics, then you have no business on the back of a dragon.” She arches a black brow a few shades darker than her deep-brown skin.

“No pressure” I mutter laughingly to Liam.

“The most powerful general in Navarre is your father. I think you can manage this class somehow.” He snorts.

“Hey. I’m not a genious, you know.” I whisper.

“And even humble.” He openly laughs at me. “You know all the answers in history. But I don’t think it counts if you only told me and not the teacher when he asked questions.”

“I don’t care what they think of me.” I say in a serious tone.

“This is the only class you will have every day, because it’s the only class that will matter if you’re called into service early.” Professor Devera’s gaze sweeps from left to the right and pauses on me. Her eyes flare wide for a heartbeat, but she gives an approving smile and nod before she do the same with Violet. “Because this class is taught every day and relies on the most current information, you will also answer to Professor Markham, who deserves nothing but your utmost respect.”

She waves the scribe forward, and he moves to stand next to her, the cream color of his uniform contrasting with her stark black one. He leans in when she whispers something to him, and his thick eyebrows fly high as he whips his head in my direction then he looks at Violet.

“Shit.” I mutter as I slide lower on the chair. “Why can’t I be invisible?

“You’re stand out a little bit to that.” Liam answer helpfully. “Maybe if you didn’t dye your hair, you didn’t stand out as much. I mean those silver stripes are a little bit flashy.”

“I didn’t dye my hair. It’s been like this since I was born” I answer while staring straight ahead of me. I don’t like to talk about my mother. I didn’t know her but it’s still painful beacuse of the many what ifs. What if I knew her? Would she loved me? If she were alive would I have a normal family? It’s painful.

“Oh, I see.” And he didn’t push the subject any further as if he sensed that I’m not comfortable with it.

“It is the duty of the scribes not only to study and master the past but to relay and record the present” Professor Markham says, rubbing the bridge of his bulbous nose. “Without accurate depictions of our front lines, reliable information with which to make strategic decisions, and - most importantly - veracious details to document our history for the good of future generations, we’re doomed, not only as a kingdom but as a society.”

“First topic of the day,” Professor Devera moves toward the map and flicks her hand, bringing a mage light directly over the eastern border with the Poromiel province of Braevick. “The Eastern Wing experienced an attack last night near the village of Chakir by a drift of Braevi gryphons and riders.”

Oh shit. A murmur rips through the hall.

“Naturally, some information is redacted for security purposes, but what we can tell you is that the wards faltered along the top of the Esben Mountains.” Professor Devera pulls her hands apart and the light expands, illuminating the mountains that form our border with Braevick. “Allowing the drift not only to enter Navarrian territory but for their riders to channel and wield sometime around midnight.”

My stomach sinks as a murmur rises from the cadets, especially the first-years. Dragons aren’t the only animals capable of channeling powers to their riders. Gryphons from Poromiel also share that ability, but dragons are the only ones capable of powering the wards that make all other magic but their own impossible within our borders. They’re the reason Navarre’s borders are somewhat circular - their power radiates from the Vale and can only extend so far, even with squads stationed at every outpost. Without those wards, we’re fucked. It would be open season on Navarrian villages when the raiding parties from Poromiel inevitably descend. Those greedy assholes are never content with the resources they have. They always want ours, too, and until they learn to be content with our trade agreements, we have no chance of ending conscription in Navarre. No chance of experiencing peace.

But if we’re not on high alert, then they must have gotten the wards rewoven, or at least stabilized.

“Thirty-seven civilians were killed in the attack in the hour before the squad from the Eastern Wing could arrive, but the riders and dragons managed to repel the drift.” Professor Devera finishes, folding her arms over her chest. “Based on that information, what questions would you ask?” She holds up a finger. “ I only want answers from first-years to start.”

My initial question would be why the hell the wards faltered, but it’s not like they’re going to answer a question like that in a room full of cadets with zero security clearance.

I study the map. The Esben Mountain Range is the highest along our eastern border with Braevick, making it the least likely place for an attack, especially since gryphons don’t tolerate altitude nearly as well as dragons, probably due to the fact they’re half-lion, half-eagle and can’t handle the thinner air at higher altitudes.

There’s a reason we’ve been able to fend off every major assault on our territory for the last six hundred years, and we’ve successfully defended our land in this never-ending four-hundred-year-long war. Our abilities, both lesser and signet, are superior because our dragons can channel more power than gryphons. So why attack in the mountain range?

“The only logical explanation is that they were looking for something.” I mutter to Liam.

“Are you not going to speak up in this class either?” He asks.

“Nope.”

“Come on, first-years, show me you have more than just good balance. Show me you have the critical-thinking skills to be here.” Professor Devera demands. “It’s more important than ever that you’re ready for what’s beyond our borders.”

“Is this the first time the wards have faltered?” a first-year a couple of rows ahead asks.

Professors Devera and Markham share a look before she turns toward the cadet. “No.”

The room falls pin-drop quiet.

It’s not the first time.

Which means they were looking for something for a while? Interesting.

The girl clears her throat. “And how… often are they faltering?”

Professor Markham’s shrewd eyes narrow on her. “That’s above your pay grade, cadet.” He turns his attention to our section. “Next relevant question to the attack we’re discussing?”

“How many casualties did the wing suffer?” A first-year down the row to my right asks.

“One injured dragon. One dead rider.”

Another murmur rises from the hall. Surviving graduation doesn’t mean we’ll survive service. Most riders die before retirement age, especially at the rate riders have been falling over the last two years.

“Why would you ask that particular question?” Professor Devera asks the cadet.

“To know how many reinforcements they’ll need” he answers.

Professor Devera nods, turning toward the meekest first-year in Violet’s squad, who has his hand up, but he lowers it quickly, scrunching his dark eyebrows. “Did you want to ask a question?”

“Yes.” He nods, sending a few locks of black hair into his eyes, then shakes his head. “No. Never mind.”

“So decisive” another first-year in that squad mocks from next to him, tilting her head as cadets laugh around them. A corner of her mouth tilts up into a smirk, and she flips her long brown hair over her shoulder in a move that’s anything but casual.

“He’s in our squad. Show some loyalty.” A third woman chastises.

“What a friendly squad. They like a big family.” I whisper to Liam.

“You’re not friendlier then them, you know.” He smirks at me.

“Maybe.” I cross my arms and turn my attention back to the class.

“If Fourth Wing is done picking at one another?” Professor Devera asks, lifting a brow.

“What altitude is the village at?” Rhiannon asks. I’m sure it was Violet’s question. She doesn’t like the attention.

Professor Devera’s eyebrows rise as she turns to Rhiannon. “Markham?”

“A little less than ten thousand feet.” he answers. “Why?”

Rhiannon darts a dose of side-eye at Violet and clears her throat. “Just seems a little high for a planned attack with gryphons.”

“It is a little high for a planned attack” Devera says. “Why don’t you tell me why that’s bothersome, Cadet Sorrengail? And maybe you’d like to ask your own questions from here on out.” She levels a stare on her

Every head in the room turns to her direction. If anyone had an inkling of doubt about who is she, it’s long gone now.

Poor Violet.

“Gryphons aren’t as strong at that altitude, and neither is their ability to channel” She says. “ It’s an illogical place for them to attack unless they knew the wards would fail, especially since the village looks to be about what…an hour’s flight from the nearest outpost?” She glances at the map. “That is Chakir right there isn’t it?”

Scribe’s training for the win.

“It is.” A corner of Professor Devera’s mouth lifts into a smirk. “Keep going with that line of thought.”

“Didn’t you say it took an hour for the squad of riders to arrive?” Her gaze narrows.

“I did.”

“Then they were already on their way,” she blurts, immediately recognizing how silly that sounds. Her cheeks heat as a mumble of laughter sounds around her.

“Yeah, because that makes sense.” Jack turns around in his seat from the front row and openly laught at her. “General Melgren knows the outcome of a battle before it happens, but even he doesn’t now when it will happen, dumbass.”

I feel the chuckling of our classmates reverberate in my bones. I can feel my rage rising.

“Fuck off, Barlowe,” Rhiannon snaps.

“I’m not the one who thinks precognition is a thing,” he retorts with a sneer. “Gods help us if that one ever gets on the back of a dragon.” Another round of laughter has her face flaming more.

Enough!

“You’re so familiar with General Melgren that you know exactly what he’s able to do with his signet Barlowe?” I glare at him. “With you’re level of brain, be thankful if a dragon will choose you at Threshing, if you can make it there. It’s way above your skills to get to know the General.”

“Pff, the same goes for you girl.” Someone shouts behind me.

I glance behind me to look at that stupid man who said that. I found him. He wears a first-year emblem on his jacket, and looks like he’s in Violet’s squad.

“He’s my father, you jackass.” I glare at him.

“He doesn’t have a daughter, you liar.” He retorts.

That’s it. He’s even dumber than I thought. It’s a shame to argue with him.

“And they try to become riders. Without the knowledge what’s going around them. I pray that at least a handful of cadets be smarter than them or Navarre is lost.” I sigh in mock sympathy while I turn back. “Maybe General Melgren’s signet isn’t able to identify the when, but if you can’t understand what Cadet Sorrengail implies, then you won’t make it Threshing. I gurantee that.” I smile at Jack while my implied threat still in the air.

“That’s enough. You should know that listening to other cadet’s questions is just as important as asking.” Professor Devera says to Jack. “And Cadet Melgren you should work out that temper in the gym.”

“Oh I can’t wait the challenges Professor.” I answer while glaring daggers at Jack.

“Why do you think that way, Violet -“ Professor Markham winces. “Cadet Sorrengail?”

Nice distraction.

“Because there’s no logical way they get there within an hour of the attack unless they were already on their way” Go, Violet tell them. “It would take at least half that long to light the beacons in the range and call for help, and no full squad is sitting around just waiting to be needed. More than half those riders would have been asleep, which means they were already on their way.”

“And why would they already be on their way?” Professor Devera prods, and the light in her eyes tells me she’s right.

“Because they somehow knew the wards were breaking.” She lifts her chin

“That’s the most-“ Jack starts.

“She’s right” Professor Devera interrupts, and a hush falls over the room. “One of the dragons in the wing sensed the faltering ward, and the wing flew. Had they not, the casualties would have been far higher and the destruction of the village much worse.”

I snicker at Jack who looks completly baffled.

“Second- and third-years, take over” Professor Devera orders. “Let’s see if you can be a little more respectful to your fellow cadets.” She arches a brow at Jack as questions begin to fire off from the riders behind us.

How many riders were deployed to the site?

What killed the lone fatality?

How long did it take to clear the village of the gryphons?

Were any left alive for questioning?

I write down the important questions and answers, my mind memorizing the facts, organizing into logical sequences.

“How can you make notes when you don’t even look at the paper in front of you?” Liam wonders

“Years of practice.” I cut it short.

“What was the condition of the village?” A deep voice asks from the back of the lecture hall.

The hairs on my neck rise, my body recognizing the imminent threat behind me.

“Riorson?” Markham asks, shielding his eyes from the mage lights as he looks toward the top of the hall.

“The village.” Xaden restates. “Professor Devera said the damage would have been worse, but what was the actual condition? Was it burned? Destroyed? They wouldn’t demolish it if they were trying to establish a foothold, so the condition of the village matters when trying to determine a motive for the attack.”

Professor Devera smiles in approval. “The buildings they’d already gone through were burned, and the rest were being looted when the wing arrived.”

“They were looking for something,” Xaden says with complete conviction. “And it wasn’t riches. That’s not a gem mining district. Which begs the question, what do we have that they want so badly?”

„Wow. You said that they were searching for something too.” Liam stares at me with surprise.

„Yeah, so? It was obvious.” I blink at him.

„No. It was not. You really have a sense for it, haven’t you?” he whispers.

I just shrug, then turn back my attention to the class.

“Exactly. That’s the question.” Professor Devera glances around the room. “And that right there is why Riorson is a wingleader. You need more than strength and courage to be a good rider.”

“So what’s the answer?” a first-year to the left asks.

“We don’t know,” Professor Devera answers with a shrug. “It’s just another piece in the puzzle of why our constant bids for peace are rejected by the kingdom of Poromiel. What were they looking for? Why that village? Were they responsible for the collapse of the ward, or was it already faltering? Tomorrow, next week, next month, there will be another attack, and maybe we’ll get another clue. Go to history if you’re looking for answers. Those wars have already been dissected and examined. Battle Brief is for fluid situations. In this class, we want you to learn which questions to ask so all of you have a chance at coming home alive.” Something in her tone tells me it’s not just third-years who might be called into service this year.

After class the cadets started to flow out from the lecture hall. I packed up my things and when I turned to Liam, Professor Devera said my name.

„Cadet Melgren. For a word.”

„I think you’re in trouble.” Whispres Liam. „I’ll wait for you outside.”

I nod then turn toward the Professor.

„Yes?” I ask.

„General Melgren sent a message that he wants to speak to you after today’s classes are over.” She answers

„Understood. Where?” I ask tensly.

„In his office.”

„Then if there is nothing else, I would like to go. I have gym.”

„Yes, go ahead.” She dismisses me.

Outside of the hall I see Liam talking with Xaden at the corner of the courtyard.

That’s my luck. I have one somewhat of a friend and he’s just coincidentally a big buddy of Xaden it seems.

They must realised that I finished talking with Professor Devera beacuse they make their way to where I stand.

„Is everything all right?” Liam asks worriedly when they aprroached me.

„Yeah, she just wanted to pass on a message.” I shrug.

„A message? From who?” Xaden asks suspiciously.

„It’s not your business Riorson, but is seems that General Melgren wants to see me after classes are over.” I say with a forced smile.

„General Melgren?” He raise an eyebrow.

„You’ve got a problem with that?” I narrow my eyes at him.

„No, it’s just interesting.” He says. „But I think you don’t have time to chat with me. If I remember correctly you have gym class soon, and Professor Emetterio doesn’t like latecomers.”

„Shit. Then we should go Liam. I really don’t want to be late because of Riorson.” I fake a horrified expresson.

„Ah, and I thought we could converse once without your insults.” He smirks.

„In your dream Riorson. If you don’t like my style then you would be doing a favor for the both of us if you would avoid me in the future.” I say while grabbing Liam’s arm and start pulling him in the direction where the gym class will be.

„Then we will definitely see each other later.” He stares at me with an unreadable expression. „I almost forget. Have fun in the gym, Sunshine.” I hear him laughing.

When I try to turn around, this time Liam grabs my arm and pulles away faster.

„We need to hurry if we don’t want to end up late.” He drags me with him.

---

„You seriosuly knew every answer in histroy and apparently every right question to ask in Battle Brief.” I hear Rhiannon says it to Violet. Coincidentally their squad are standing behind our sparring mat. „You’re not even going to have to study for tests, are you?”

There are already two first-years on the mat from our squad. They’re evenly matched in size. One of them is Ethan whom I have seen talking to Liam. He has a rebellion relic too. I don’t remember his opponent’s name but I’m sure he’s a little less irritating than the others in our squad.

„You seem pretty calm. Are you not worried about who your opponent will be?” Liam watches me with interest shining in his eyes.

„No. I’m sure that I can beat most first-years. Quite a few have developed muscles if you look them closely. You’re one of them so I’m curious how well you can fight.” I look over him.

„Maybe we will be paired up.” He winks at me.

„Yeah. Who knows?” I shrug, and the vest Mira made us shimmers slightly with the movement. Other than the times the scales catch the light under the camouflaging mesh, it fits right in with the tops we’d been given from central issue yesterday. All the women are dressed similarly now, though the cuts of their leathers are chosen by preference.

The guys are mostly shirtless because they think shirts give their opponent something to grab onto. Personally, I’m not arguing with their logic, just enjoying the view…respectfully, of course, which means keeping my eyes on my own squad’s mat and off the other twenty mats in the massive gym that consumes the first floor of the academic wing. One wall is made entirely of windows and doors, all left open to let in the breeze, but it’s still stiflingly hot. Sweat trickles down my spine under my vest.

There are three squads from each wing here this afternoon, and lucky me, First Wing has sent their third squads, which include Jack Barlowe, who’s been glaring at me from two mats over since I walked in.

„Stop circling each other like you’re dance partners and attack!” Professor Emetterio orders from across the mat, where Theo watches Ethan and the other guy’s match – maybe his name is Lucas? Or Luke? Something like that – with our squad executive leader, Zanaya.

Ethan launches toward Lucas – I think I will go with this name until someone tells me his name – but he ducks, sweeping out his leg and tripping Ethan. He staggers but doesn’t go down. He pivots quickly, palming a dagger in his hand.

„No blade today!” Professor Emetterio bellows from beside the mat. He’s only the fourth professor I’ve met, but he’s definitely the most intimidating. „We’re just assessing!”

Ethan grumbles and sheaths his knife just in time to deflect a right hook from Lucas.

„What about you? You don’t seem worried either.” I ask Liam as Ethan lands a jab to Lucas’s ribs.

„Shit!” He shakes his head and backs up a step. „I don’t want to hurt you.”

Lucas holds his ribs but lifts his chin. „Who said you hurt me?”

„Pulling your punches does him a disservice” Theo says, folding his arms. „The Cygnis on the northeast border aren’t going to give him any quarter if he falls from his dragon behind enemy lines, Ethan. They’ll kill him just the same.”

„Let’s go!” Lucas shouts, beckoning Ethan by curling his fingers. It’s obvious he had a proper trainig before entering the quadrant, when he slips a jab from Ethan and twists to land a quick jab to his stomach.

Ouch.

„I’m pretty good on the mat. My foster brother whom I grew up with taught me many things.” He answers while watching the match.

„You have a brother? I didn’t know.” I look at him.

„He’s not my brother by blood, we grew up together after the apostasy and that made us close friends. That’s why I said he’s my brother.” He shrugs. „Now watch the match.”

Apostasy is the Tyrrish term for rebellion. I rarely heard it mentioned this way.

That’s when Ethan charges Lucas taking him to the mat with enough force to make me observe him more. He’s surprisingly strong for his light build.

Lucas hooks his legs around Ethan and somehow leverages him over until he’s the one on top, landing punch after punch to the side of his face. Blood spatters the mat.

A tooth goes flying. Ouch.

„Enough!” Professor Emetterio shouts.

Lucas rolls off Ethan and stands, touching his fingers to his split lip and examining the blood, then offers his hand to help Ethan up.

He takes it.

„Zanaya, take Lucas to the healers. No reason to lose a tooth during assessment” Emetterio orders.

A couple of mats over, someone shrieks, and we all turn to look. Jack Barlowe has another first-year in a headlock. The other guy is smaller, thinner than Jack, but still has a good fifty pounds on me.

Jack yanks his arms, his hands still secure around the other man’s head.

„That guy is such an ass-„ Rhiannon starts behind us.

The sickening crack of bones breaking sounds across the gym, and the first-year goes limp in Jack’s hold.

“Sweet Malek,” I whisper as Jack drops the man to the ground. I’m starting to wonder if the god of death lives here for how often his name must be invoked.

“What did I say?” their instructor shouts as he charges onto the mat. “You broke his damned neck!”

“How was I supposed to know his neck was that weak?” Jack argues.

“Eyes forward,” Emetterio orders, but his tone is kinder than it has been as we all look away from the dead first-year. “You don’t have to get used to it,” he tells us. “But you do have to function through it. You and you.” He points to Liam and another first-year in our squad, a man with a stocky build, black hair, and angular features. Shit, I can’t remember his name. Trevor? Thomas, maybe? There are too many new people to remember who is who at this point.

Liam makes quick work of the first-year, stunning me every time he dodges a punch and lands one of his own. He’s fast, and his hits are powerful, the kind of lethal combination that will set him apart.

„Do you yield?” he asks the first-year guy when he takes him to his back, his hand stopped mid-hit just above his throat.

“No!” he shouts, hooking his legs around Liam’s and slamming him to his back. But he rolls and quickly gains his feet before putting the first-year in the same position again, this time with his boot to his neck.

“I don’t know, Thomas, you might want to yield,” Theo says with a grin. “He’s handing you your ass.”

Ah, that’s right. Thomas.

“Fuck off!” Thomas snaps, but Liam presses his boot into his throat, garbling the last word. He turns a mottled shade of red.

Yeah, Thomas has more ego than common sense.

“He yields,” Emetterio calls out, and Liam steps back, offering his hand.

Thomas takes it.

„You-” Emetterio points to one of the second-years with a rebellion relic. „And you.” His fingers swings to me.

He’s at least a head taller than me, and if the rest of his body is as toned as his arms, then I can’t let him to touch me. I need to be faster.

I nod and step onto the mat.

„You’ve got this.” Liam says, tapping my shoulder as he passes me.

„Melgren.” The man looks me over like I’m something he’s scraped off the side of his boot, narrowing his pale green eyes. „You really should dye your hair if you don’t want to stand out like this. Soon, everybody will know who is your father.”

„Never said I cared if everyone knows who my father is.” I circle the second-year on he mat.

I say while trying to distract him. General Melgren often says the minutes you let emotion enter a fight, you’ve already lost.

„You bitch” he sheethes. „Your father murdered my family.”

He lunges forward and swings wildly, and I quickly sidestep, spinning then landing a hard punch where his kidneys are located.

He grunts then turns around and we start it again. We do this for a few more rounds, and I land a few punches here and there. Always moving faster than him.

After another punch he stumbles and I kick his leg out from under him and I pin his legs down so he can’t move. That’s it when he manages to land a punch.

I can feel my head snapping to the side, my ears ringing, but I don’t move. I’ve endured worse. If I move now then he can use his legs and I will be in trouble.

I punch him in the face. When he raises his hands to protect it, he leaves defensless his neck. I hit the side of his neck causing him to be momentarily unable to breathe and he puts his hand to his neck, then I punch him in his face, and I can feel the bones breaking. I broke his nose. I hit again.

He starts coughing while his blood is dripping from his nose. He can’t do anything in this condition.

„He yields.” Emetterio calls out, and I back off from him. „Hey you” he points to another second-year „Escort him to the healers. We don’t need him bleeding all over the mat.”

I step next to Liam and a new match starts.

„Gods, Aelin. You were really scary on the mat.” Liam says looking at me. „And your face, are you all right? Want me to accompany you to the healers?”

„I won’t go the healers, Liam. I’m fine.” I look at him confused.

„What? No way. You’re bruse is already turning black. That must have hurt.” He looks at my face with concern.

„A little bit. It’s not that bad, really. I have much worse bruises when I started to train.” I try to calm him.

His eyes widen and opens his mouth to further question me when…

„Yield, Violet!” I hear Dain yells.

What? Violet? I turn around quickly and I see Violet and a pink-haired second-year on the mat. With a rebellion relic. Shit.

„She yields.” their instructor says. „That’s enough.” I hear it again – the macabre sound of snapping bone – but this time it’s hers.

#fanfiction #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #oc #the empyrean #xaden x oc #xaden riorson x oc

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