#Full-Service Architecture

[concept73construction1]

Architect and Planning Consultant Surrey | Concept73 Construction

At Concept73 Construction, we specialise in providing innovative architect design and planning consultancy in Surrey. With a passion for creating functional, stylish spaces, our team works closely with homeowners, developers and commercial clients to bring dreams to life from conception to completion. Whether you are planning a home extension, new build or commercial development, we provide customised solutions tailored to your goals, budget and local planning regulations. Trust Concept73 for visionary design, seamless planning applications and exceptional results. Contact Us now- https://concept73construction.co.uk/contact-us/

[techcronus]

Node.js Development: Everything You Need to Know in 2025

In 2025, Node.js development continues to be a powerful tool for building efficient, scalable, and real-time applications. This backend JavaScript framework has become a go-to technology for backend development, favoured by developers for its speed, flexibility, and vast ecosystem. Here’s everything you need to know about Node.js development trends, advantages, and key considerations in 2025.

Why Node.js Remains Popular in 2025

Node.js has gained a strong foothold in web and app development due to its high performance and ability to handle large volumes of simultaneous requests, making it ideal for data-intensive applications. Its non-blocking, event-driven architecture allows developers to build scalable web applications that can easily support thousands of concurrent users.

Key Node.js Trends to Watch in 2025

Serverless Architecture: Serverless is growing in popularity, and Node.js serverless applications fit perfectly with this trend. In a serverless environment, developers don’t need to manage server infrastructure; they focus instead on writing code. This approach can reduce development costs and improve scalability, making Node.js a key player in the serverless computing market.

Edge Computing: As demand for faster data processing rises, Node.js for edge computing is becoming crucial. By enabling data processing closer to the data source, Node.js helps reduce latency and improve application performance, particularly in real-time applications.

Microservices Architecture: Microservices are essential for large-scale, modular applications. Node.js, with its lightweight nature, is perfect for Node.js microservices architecture, allowing developers to build small, independent services that can be deployed and scaled individually.

Artificial Intelligence (AI) and Machine Learning (ML) Integration: In 2025, integrating AI and ML models into applications is a significant trend. Node.js with AI and ML is compatible with powerful machine-learning libraries, making it an attractive choice for developers looking to create intelligent applications.

Benefits of Using Node.js in 2025

High Performance: Node.js uses the V8 engine, offering impressive speed and efficient execution of JavaScript. This makes it suitable for applications requiring fast response times, such as real-time applications, chat applications, and IoT devices.

Rich Ecosystem: The Node.js ecosystem, including npm (Node Package Manager), gives developers access to a wide range of reusable modules and libraries. This Node.js ecosystem reduces development time and helps accelerate project timelines.

Cross-Platform Compatibility: Node.js Development cross-platform applications work well across different platforms, making it easier for developers to build applications that run seamlessly on various operating systems.

Scalability: The non-blocking, asynchronous architecture of Node.js for scalable applications makes it easy to scale horizontally, supporting increased workloads as businesses grow.

Best Practices for Node.js Development in 2025

Leverage TypeScript: Using TypeScript with Node.js enhances code quality and reduces bugs, making it a valuable addition to any development project.

Prioritize Security: Security is a primary concern for developers, particularly in 2025, as cyber threats grow more sophisticated. Implementing Node.js security best practices, like input validation and rate limiting, is essential for protecting applications.

Adopt CI/CD Pipelines: Continuous integration and continuous deployment (CI/CD) pipelines streamline development and ensure faster, more reliable Node.js deployments.

Conclusion

Node.js continues to be a versatile and high-performance choice for backend development in 2025. Its adaptability to trends like serverless architecture, microservices, and AI integration makes it a prime technology for building future-ready applications. By leveraging the power of Node.js developers, businesses can develop scalable, efficient, and intelligent solutions to stay ahead in the digital landscape.

[harrispaving]

Smooth Rides Ahead: Unveiling Philadelphia Paving Secrets

In the dynamic landscape of Philadelphia, where history meets modernity, the importance of well-constructed and aesthetically pleasing paving cannot be overstated. Harris Paving Industries, LLC emerges as a frontrunner in the realm of Philadelphia paving, setting new standards for quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction.

Unveiling Harris Paving Industries, LLC:

At the heart of Philadelphia's paving scene, Harris Paving Industries, LLC stands as a beacon of excellence. With a legacy built on decades of experience and a commitment to superior craftsmanship, the company has become synonymous with top-tier paving solutions in the city.

Services Beyond Compare:

Asphalt Paving: Harris Paving Industries, LLC specializes in asphalt paving, creating durable and visually appealing surfaces for various applications. From driveways to commercial parking lots, their expertise spans a wide spectrum.

Concrete Paving: Precision meets strength in Harris Paving's concrete paving services. Whether for sidewalks, pathways, or foundational elements, their skilled team ensures a flawless finish that withstands the test of time.

Repairs and Maintenance: Beyond initial installations, Harris Paving Industries, LLC excels in paving repairs and maintenance. Timely interventions and comprehensive upkeep services contribute to the longevity of their paving projects.

The Harris Paving Advantage:

Quality Materials: Harris Paving prioritizes the use of high-quality materials, ensuring that each project meets and exceeds industry standards. This commitment to quality is evident in the longevity and resilience of their paved surfaces.

Experienced Team: Backed by a team of experienced professionals, Harris Paving Industries, LLC combines technical expertise with a keen understanding of Philadelphia's unique paving requirements. Their team's dedication ensures that every project is executed with precision and finesse.

Customer-Centric Approach: Harris Paving places customer satisfaction at the core of its operations. From project inception to completion, their customer-centric approach involves transparent communication, attention to detail, and a focus on delivering outcomes that align with client expectations.

A Legacy of Success:

Harris Paving Industries, LLC has left an indelible mark on Philadelphia's urban fabric. Their portfolio boasts a diverse range of successful projects, from revitalizing historic streetscapes to enhancing the functionality of modern commercial spaces.

Conclusion: Elevating Philadelphia Through Paving Excellence

In a city known for its rich history and forward-thinking spirit, Harris Paving Industries, LLC emerges as a pivotal player in shaping the urban experience through superior paving solutions. As Philadelphia continues to evolve, so does the legacy of Harris Paving, leaving a lasting imprint on the city's infrastructure and aesthetics.

For those seeking unparalleled paving craftsmanship, Harris Paving Industries, LLC stands as the trusted name in Philadelphia Paving.

[important-videoshow]

Transitional Exterior - Exterior An illustration of a sizable transitional white three-story stucco house exterior design with a gray and mixed material roof.

[sen-jou]

Mudroom Mudroom

Image of a small country entryway with a gray floor and concrete floors and white walls

[ivedone-itagain]

Boston Outdoor Kitchen Outdoor Kitchen Patio kitchen: a sizable rustic stone patio kitchen idea for the backyard with a pergola

[drowninginthewhispers]

Poolhouse Poolhouse Pool house - large rustic backyard rectangular and concrete paver natural pool house idea

[versaiconcepts]

Space Belongs to a Famous Director Who Requested We Keep The Location Private

We are delighted to collaborate and serve our clients across various industries and scales. Regardless of the sector, businesses depend on well-maintained facilities to support their operations, productivity, and growth. Over the last few years, we have proudly grown from assisting individual private clients to working with billion-dollar companies such as Verizon and the Moinian Group. Irrespective of the occupants and owners of the structures, the challenges and approach to addressing them is very similar. For this reason, we treat each project with the same care, dedication and attention to detail. 

[a-hermit-pining]

Househusband Caleb

AN: Everyone who bargained their first child and soul, pay up 🫴🏻 jk please enjoy! Thank you for being online strangers who make me happy.

Genre: Househusband au

Pairing: Caleb x gn reader

(I do not own these characters)

He just sort of takes a break from the fleet… and that break turns into a full-on career change. Sure, he enjoyed being a fighter pilot, but those years had been grueling, demanding both his life and his morals. He doesn’t regret it, but he doesn’t miss it, either.

The two of you never really had time to sit together, to talk, or to steal even a few peaceful moments without work pulling one of you away.

But now, he’s come to love the mornings, where he can chase you down with breakfast. Afternoons, where he surprises you at work with lunch. And evenings, when your smile blooms as you come home to him.

After a lifetime of running in all directions, he’s found joy in the quiet life. It takes him a while to figure himself out, to rediscover who he is beyond the fleet, beyond revenge. And your home gives him just that.

He integrates into the neighborhood effortlessly, the type to charm all the neighbors with homemade desserts, join kids in games of hide-and-seek, and somehow turn into the guy everyone waves at when they pass by.

And the moms love him too, he is the newest addition to their gossip session because the food he brings to the potlucks makes him an elite member. So neighborhood intel is all in his hands.

He’s not exactly your manic pixie dream boy because he was once a sad beige mom (ref his Skyheaven penthouse). Therefore, he is your pragmatic pixie dream boy.

He probably gets into something super niche, like wood carving or running a pop-up bakery stand, which eventually grows into his own small business. It gives him something to focus on, something that’s just his.

That said, he’s big on DIY. One day, you leave for work and come home to find detailed plans for a sunroom in the backyard. “I had some time,” he says, as if he didn’t just design an entire architectural expansion in a single afternoon.

Your dogs love him. He’s a big dog guy. The type who bonds with huskies, retrievers, or labs. He loved taking them on walks, so a whining huskies seems like just the challenge he needs in his cottage core life.

Weekends are a treat in your shared household. After countless failed attempts to wake up early and cook him breakfast before he’s up, you finally manage to pull it off once. And the way his eyes light up when you and the dogs walk in with the breakfast tray? Worth it.

If you’re a corporate weapon, then by all means, spoil him. Sure, he has his own money from years of service, and he’d never ask for anything. But have you seen how attached he is to that dog tag necklace? There’s no way he wouldn’t absolutely treasure everything you give him. It’s not about the price, it’s about the fact that it’s from you.

But it is the days, when you randomly bring him flowers that make him the happiest. Just a simple gesture of appreciation is deeply felt, quietly cherished, as he arranges him into the vase on your dining table.

At this point, your coworkers are used to stashing away the gifts you get delivered to the office for him, just in case he shows up for lunch.

He always makes a point to bring snacks for your colleagues, partly because he enjoys baking, and partly because it never hurts to have allies in the office. After all, someone has to keep him updated if anyone dares to hit on you.

He also makes sure to prep all your favorite snacks over the weekend because hangry you is beyond even him. He swears by an ingredient household, better believe he’s your personal Nara Smith, whipping up cookies-and-cream ice cream from scratch just because you had a craving.

Would be absolutely hilarious if you both dressed up as Nara and Lucky for Halloween. He’s Nara. Obviously.

[wip]

A very very minor thing I have been curious about for a while, and I'm finally asking: why do you calculate queue posting times the way you do? For example, if I set my queue to post 3x a day, naively I would expect it to post every 8 hours. But in reality it posts every 6 hours with a 12 hour gap between days. Why complicate the math like that?

Answer: Hello @circumference-pie!

Buckle up y’all, it’s story time again!

First: nobody who works at Tumblr right now was a part of the work of planning the default queue implementation, which was more than ten years ago. So the full story behind “Why does it work that way?” has unfortunately been lost to the sands of time. All we can do is tell you how it works today and surmise some reasons why. The queue is actually a very clever system and part of how it works explains some of why it works the way it does. Also, there have been attempts to do what you ask—we still have “Queue 2.0” available in your Tumblr Labs settings, which tries to get closer to how you expect things to work.

Anyway! How the queue works today is not actually a queue in the traditional sense. There is no single list of posts that are in “your queue”. Instead, when you “Add to queue” after creating a post, we’re actually scheduling it to post at a future time, as if you had used the “Schedule post” option instead. We’re just calculating that time on your behalf when you use “Add to queue”, based on your settings, and how many other scheduled posts you have already. We use a secondary “index” model, called “ScheduledPost”, to keep track of posts you have scheduled on your blog. We do mark the ones that are a part of “your queue”, but the data model doesn’t keep one list of your “queue” per se.

You can see this in action on your blog, hiding in plain sight. If you add a bunch of posts to your queue, and then schedule a post for a specific future date, you’ll see both in your blog’s “queue” list, side by side. Because technically to us, they’re the same thing: queued posts are really just another kind of scheduled post, relying on the same always-running service to publish scheduled posts across all of Tumblr. Here’s a fun fact: we typically have about ~14.5 million future posts to publish from this list at any given time and are publishing hundreds of these scheduled posts every second.

So when you’re adding a new post to your queue, what we’re doing behind the scenes is starting at the beginning of your “day”, and creating time slots based on your queue settings. If a time slot is already filled, we move on to the next one. That’s why the default queue scheduler works how you describe—we’re trying to fill those “slots” based on the start of the day, rather than trying to divide the calendar day evenly. This just makes it much simpler for us to understand, scale, and predict when our “peaks” will be. At peak times, the publish-scheduled-posts service is publishing tens of thousands of posts in a manner of seconds. We did rewrite that post-publishing part of this architecture a few years ago to improve its efficiency and solve a lot of “lost post” bugs, but we didn’t change how “Add to queue” works.

However, the Queue 2.0 project available in Labs was an attempt to change the queue system to work as you expect—instead of starting at [beginning of day] and creating enough slots to fit [number of slots] every [number of hours], it tries to divide the calendar day into [number of slots] and fit the result back to the original algorithm’s mapping of the day. We never productionized this alternative approach, because it has a few bugs that some blogs hit in extreme cases, and we’ve never had time to fully fix them. It also can cause a bit of weirdness when time zones diverge, like with daylight savings time. Also, a lot of people prefer the default algorithm, and we haven’t thought of a nice way to transition everyone from one to the other. So for now, both options exist, and you can choose which algorithm for queue-slot-generating you want to use. We hope that makes sense! 

While complicated, it is a great example of a system built by engineers to make sense and be scalable and predictable. But sometimes these kinds of systems, while clever, aren’t very intuitive to understand without digging into how they work.

Thanks for your question, and keep ’em coming. 

[mapofsouthdakota]

If you were to run a kitchen with the LADS guys…

I’m rewatching The Bear (yes the series) and my brain just exploded—like a proper “wait… wait… WAIT” moment. AU, who? Just… bear with me, heeeh. Omg, sorry.

Details: 1500ish words of my creativity just going completely bonkers. This became a pilot! Yaaay

🔪 Xavier – Kitchen Assistant / “The Quiet Backbone”

🩷 “Tell me what you need. I’ll handle the rest.” Said barely above a whisper, while slipping fresh gloves into your hand mid-rush. He didn’t wait for thanks—he was already gone.

Station: Not technically a cook—floats between prep, cleaning, organizing, managing back-of-house chaos. Exceptionally bad at cooking.

Description: Xavier is… not a chef. Everyone learned that quickly, after The Incident With The Eggs. But what he is, is the person who keeps the place from crumbling. He keeps stock rotated, ingredients labeled, knives sharpened, and people from losing their minds.

He doesn’t say much. Always calm, always focused. He moves through the kitchen like part of the architecture—quietly fixing things, cleaning messes before they spread, handing you what you need before you ask. He’ll offer you a rag when you’re bleeding and a chocolate when you’re about to scream.

He’s incredibly bad with flavor—puts sugar in sauces, burns toast—but he’s strangely brilliant at tasks that require repetition and quiet focus: peeling, organizing, cleaning fish (if someone else cooks them). He’ll never be on the line, and he’s fine with that.

He’s a calming presence for you. A quiet safe space. And he always offers you the best bite of whatever he is eating, like a quiet little ritual.

Vibe: Steady. Awkward. Gentle. The heartbeat of the kitchen no one sees—but everyone needs.

Xavier calls

Caleb: “Boss.” No frills. No question. Caleb runs the kitchen, and Xavier follows. Simple as that. Occasionally: “Captain.” When Caleb’s in full command mode.

Rafayel: “Loud one.” Observational. Said like he’s describing the weather. Sometimes: “Glitter.” When Rafayel’s mood and outfit both shine.

Zayne: “Sharp one.” Respectful. Quiet. Rare praise. Occasionally: “Edge.” For when Zayne’s intensity gets a little too pointed.

Sylus: “Other Boss.” Always with a neutral tone. Not sarcastic—just factual. Sylus hates it. Once: “Red tie.” The one time Sylus broke his all-black look. Xavier logged it like a system update.

Xavier calls you:

“Chef.” Neutral, respectful. Used in front of others, especially during service. Occasionally: “Second set.” His personal nickname for you. Quiet, private. It means you’re his other half in the kitchen—his extra pair of hands, eyes, instinct. It’s not about rank. It’s about sync.

🔪Caleb – Head Chef / “The Machine”

🧡 “I’ve got the kitchen. You just breathe.” Said like an order—but only to you. Said during chaos, when the printer won’t stop and the pans are burning. He didn’t touch you, didn’t need to. His steadiness was enough.

Station: Runs the whole kitchen. Controls the pass. Oversees every dish, every second.

Description: Once a rising star in fine dining, Caleb burned out in the brutal world of elite gastronomy—and rebuilt himself into something sharper, more contained. He doesn’t yell—he commands. Every dish goes through him. Every mistake is his to erase. He’s fire, held tight under pressure, and his perfectionism is legendary. If something’s off, he’ll fix it before you even realize.

He walks the line like it’s a battlefield. Sees everything. Misses nothing. Speaks only when it matters.

Except to you.

With you, the rules shift. His attention lingers. The corners of his mouth soften. The warmth he keeps locked down for everyone else flickers through—because you throw him off. You disarm him. You make the pressure feel like something else.

And that scares him more than failure.

Vibe: Smug. Controlled. Scalding beneath the surface. Always watching.

Caleb calls

Rafayel: “Art Project.” Sharp and short when he’s annoyed. Once, in exasperation: “President of the Drama Club.”

Zayne: “Precision.” Said with grudging respect or flat annoyance, depending on the day. Sometimes: “Blade.” Used quietly, when Zayne pulls off something flawlessly under pressure.

Xavier: “Ghost.” With low-key fondness. Xavier’s the only one Caleb doesn’t try to control. Occasionally: “Inventory,” when things go missing and he blames Xavier anyway.

Sylus: Doesn’t nickname him. Just clenches his jaw and mutters “Boss.” Always flat, always loaded

Caleb calls you:

“Chef.” His constant. Used when he’s focused, when he’s tense, when he’s trying not to look at you too long. Occasionally: “Hotshot.” Said with a raised brow and the faintest ghost of a smile. Used when you challenge him—and win. Rarely: Your actual name. Only during quiet moments. And only when he means it.

🔪Rafayel – Pastry Chef / “The Art Freak”

💜 “If it doesn’t make someone feel something—rage, lust, joy, hunger—then what’s the point?” Muttered while throwing out an entire tray of flawless soufflés. Said it like a dare. Like a creed.

Station: Pastry and dessert. Shows up when he wants. Plates like a gallery opening.

Description: A dramatic menace with sea salt in his veins and sugar under his nails. Rafayel treats food like an art installation—and you like a canvas he wants to ruin just to repaint. He’s barefoot half the time, covered in edible pigment, purring “puh-lease” while plating sugar sculptures that make grown chefs cry.

He skips shifts to “meditate by the ocean” or “chase inspiration,” but no one dares cut him loose—because his creations sell out every night.

Charismatic, chaotic, and probably in love with you in twelve different metaphysical ways.

Vibe: Effortlessly beautiful. Loud, flirty, deeply unsettling when he wants to be.

Rafayel calls

Caleb: “Maestro.” Dripping with sarcasm. Occasionally: “Chef Supreme,” “Dictator de Cuisine,” or when he’s feeling truly bold: “Daddy Discipline.”

Zayne: “Icebox.” Consistent. Flamboyantly sung whenever Zayne says something dry. Sometimes: “Slicer.” Used when Zayne’s knife skills make him feel dramatic.

Xavier: “White Rabbit.” Because Xavier vanishes and reappears like a magic trick. Occasionally: “Whisperer.” Usually while narrating Xavier’s movements like he’s on a nature documentary.

Sylus: “Daddy Deep Pockets.” Bold. Loud. Said within earshot on purpose. On quiet nights? “Mystery Merlot.”

Rafayel calls you:

“Flame.” Always. Teasing, flirty, reverent in his own chaotic way. Occasionally: “Little flame” – used when you’re either adorable or frustrating. Never uses your name unless things get very serious.

🔪Zayne – Sous Chef / “The Scalpel”

🩵 “If you flinch at the truth, you shouldn’t be in the kitchen.” Said without raising his voice. Cut sharper than any knife in the drawer.

Station: Second-in-command. Oversees prep, quality control, plating precision.

Description: Everything about Zayne is sharp—his eyes, his knives, his expectations. He doesn’t tolerate sloppiness. Doesn’t indulge drama. But he will step in if you’re falling apart… and do it so quietly, it feels like dignity instead of rescue.

The staff respects him. Fears him a little. But you? He lets his guard down around you. Barely. Sometimes. A sideways smirk. A hand over yours when you’re shaking. A quiet “You’re better than this.”

His loyalty is absolute. So is his judgment.

Vibe: Clean lines, cold eyes, warm core. Gets shit done. Holds secrets close.

Zayne calls

Caleb: “Pressure.” Said only when Caleb’s pushing too hard or when something about him makes the kitchen feel just a little too tight. Not mocking. Just true.

Rafayel: “Theatrics.” Dry, unbothered. In emergencies? “Get out of my station.”

Xavier: “Inventory.” Half joke, half truth. Stuck after Xavier labeled everything one night. Sometimes: “Quiet.” With a rare note of appreciation.

Sylus: “Owner.” Always formal. Laced with cool disdain.

Zayne calls you:

“Chef.” Direct, even-toned, deeply respectful. In private: “Ace.” A personal nickname. Quiet praise. Never explained.

🔪 Sylus – Owner / “The Boss”

❤️ “Perfection is never loud. It just waits for the room to catch up.” Said over wine, once, to you. Calm. Sure. Like the truth was something he’d invented himself.

Station: Doesn’t touch the line—but he owns the building, funds the staff, and secretly curates the entire wine list under everyone’s nose.

Description: Sylus is the kind of boss who never needs to raise his voice. He walks into a room and the temperature drops—not because he’s cruel, but because he never enters without a reason. He doesn’t cook anymore, but when he does pick up a knife, the precision is terrifying. Not because he wants to impress anyone. Because he can.

While the kitchen burns itself out nightly, Sylus hovers just outside the chaos—glass of wine in hand, watching with faint amusement. Everyone assumes the wine pairings are the work of a nameless sommelier. No one knows the handwritten notebook of perfect, sometimes suspiciously intimate flavor pairings is his.

He doesn’t tell them. Why would he? Let them struggle. He’s always five steps ahead.

He calls you “chef” like it’s a compliment and a threat. And when he does offer advice, it’s always helpful… and always laced with something you’ll be turning over in your head long after the shift ends.

Vibe: High-functioning menace in a three-piece suit. Refined, unreadable, devastatingly well-paired. Owns the place, owns the game, and might just be playing you.

Sylus calls

Caleb: “Chef.” Always calm. Always strategic. Once: “Starboy.” No one’s recovered.

Rafayel: “Pixie Dust.” Used once during a wine-fueled jab. Rafayel loved it. Caleb did not.

Zayne: Doesn’t bother. Just meets his eyes and lets the silence work. Occasionally: “Sharp.”

Xavier: “Efficient.” Said like a metric. One-time only. It stuck.

Sylus calls you:

“Chef.” His go-to. He says it like it’s yours to live up to. Occasionally: “Darling.” Only when he’s being particularly smug—or trying to get a reaction from you or Caleb.

——————————————————————————

Writer’s note: Sooo… I was rewatching The Bear while doodling Chapter One of the Coffee Shop, and suddenly this whole thing just unfolded on my keyboard. For some reason, I thought, “Huh… Bear’s kinda like Caleb in some ways.” I might’ve written a whole chapter about it… or maybe not. Heeeeh. Edit: Forgot to mention that I’m a wine and dine nerd, so there’s definitely a personal touch to this AU too. Bless my poor brain. Okey then, thank you for reading! 🫶🏻

[thehighpriestess1]

Make a wish: New beginnings

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Gojo x y/n, Nanami x y/n

Warnings: Angst, Mentions gun, Su!c!de mention

Ask Box | Previous Chapter | FIC Masterlist | Other works

A wide smile was plastered on your face as you pedaled through the streets, the wind playfully tousling your hair. The sun shone brilliantly overhead, casting golden hues on the pavement. You had always loved mornings like these—crisp air, a clear sky, and an exhilarating sense of new beginnings. Today was different, though. Today wasn’t just any morning; it was the start of a new chapter. The excitement coursing through your veins was undeniable, and nothing could have dampened your energy.

As you maneuvered through the familiar streets, you made sure to greet everyone you crossed paths with—a nod to the elderly woman tending to her potted plants, a cheerful wave to the café owner who was arranging fresh pastries in the window, and even a quick “Good morning!” to the jogger you always saw on your morning rides. It felt surreal to be here, to be moving forward after all those years stuck at Domain. That lingering “what if” that had haunted your thoughts was finally being answered. The uncertainty that had once held you back no longer had any power over you. Today, you were stepping into something new, something filled with potential.

You soon arrived at your destination, your heart beating with anticipation and excitement. As you parked your bike and took off your helmet, your eyes locked onto the building in front of you. It was breathtaking—modern yet distinctly Japanese-inspired, exuding both elegance and tranquility. The Golden Ratio logo was carved in gold, standing out against the dark wood facade, almost as if it were welcoming you into its world. Wooden slats were arranged in a structured yet artistic pattern, allowing glimpses of the warm, ambient lighting from within. The entrance walkway was lined with ginkgo trees and occasional black pine, their lush greenery blending harmoniously with the refined architecture. It felt like a place that had been designed not just for work, but for inspiration.

As you stood there, admiring the building and absorbing the reality of your new job, a movement caught your attention. A young man, dressed in a crisp white shirt and loose black-lined pants, approached you with a polite smile. His black lanyard bore the company’s logo, and dangling from it was his ID card. You quickly read his name—Hitoshi.

“Y/n?” he asked, his voice warm and respectful.

“Yes…” you replied, adjusting your bag strap.

“I am Hitoshi! I am here to escort you to the office. Nice to meet you!” He bowed slightly and extended his hand forward.

You returned the bow before shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too. This is a… lovely place.”

Hitoshi chuckled nervously. “Yes. Nanami-san loves nature, and he was very adamant about maintaining this walkway.”

“I see,” you murmured, clasping your hands in front of you as you followed him through the large screen doors.

“I’m really happy you joined our firm,” Hitoshi continued as he walked beside you.

You giggled. “Me too.”

His enthusiasm seemed to grow as he spoke. “When I saw your portfolio, I knew I wanted to work with you! Your projects are so creative and witty. They make people think and create an emotional connection between the product and the customer. It’s so clever!”

“Oh… I’m glad you think I’m clever.” You chuckled, feeling both flattered and slightly amused at his excitement.

Hitoshi’s eyes practically sparkled as he went on, like a child who had just met their favorite superhero. “I asked Nanami-san to place me in your department. I will be your junior, and I have so much to learn from you! I’m just an undergraduate student, but this is my third summer internship with Golden Ratio. I’m determined to work here full-time one day. Please feel free to make me run around as much as you want—I am at your service!”

His sincerity made you smile. It was rare to see such enthusiasm so openly displayed, and it reminded you of when you first started out—brimming with ideas, eager to prove yourself, and ready to soak up every bit of knowledge you could find. It was endearing to see that kind of passion reflected in someone else.

“Well, Hitoshi,” you said, looking at him with amusement, “I hope you don’t regret saying that.”

He laughed. “Never! I mean it. I want to be useful, so please don’t hesitate to give me tasks.”

You nodded, appreciating his enthusiasm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you walked deeper into the building, the serene atmosphere embraced you. The scent of cedarwood lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly brewed tea. The walls were adorned with minimalist art—subtle brush strokes that depicted landscapes and abstract designs. Everything about this place felt carefully curated, balancing modernity with tradition.

Hitoshi led you down a sleek hallway, stopping in front of a door with your nameplate already mounted on it. Seeing your name there, officially part of Golden Ratio, sent a thrill through you. This was real. This was happening.

“Here we are,” Hitoshi announced, opening the door for you.

You stepped inside, taking in the cozy yet professional space—large windows letting in natural light, a tidy desk waiting for you, and a small bookshelf already stocked with materials. A new beginning.

Turning to Hitoshi, you grinned. “Well then, let’s get to work.”

He beamed. “Yes! Let’s!”

And with that, your journey at Golden Ratio truly began.

His excitement made your laugh. It was pure innocent excitement to do something creative and it resonated with you. Hitoshi tapped his card and opened another screen door for you. 

Compared to the facade, the interiors had modern design. However the decor was traditional Japanese and the common areas looked like a traditional tea house engulfed by a modern cafe. 

“Where do I get my ID card from?”. You asked Hitoshi as the two of you entered the elevator.

“Oh yes! I have it ready for you in your cabin. I was so excited to meet you. I didn't want to waste time at the HR”. Hitoshi admitted and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Nanami-san is at a client meeting but he will meet you after lunch. He always makes time to meet each new employee. He is my idol! My final year design project is based on his design principle. Oh by the way, I am a product designer. Well a product design intern for now”.

You nodded and smiled. His childlike enthusiasm reminded you of your brother. “I am sure you are very talented!”.

The elevator doors opened to a courtyard surrounded by glass walls. The stone walkway was lined with tiny bonsai trees and koi ponds on either side. 

Hitoshi pointed upwards,”The roofs of this open area are retractable. When it is too sunny or raining we bring them back up! And we can even adjust them to allow as much light as we want. Today is a pleasant day so even the fishes get to enjoy it”

“This is one the most beautiful offices I have ever seen!”. You admitted. The atmosphere throughout the office felt tranquil. 

As you followed Hitoshi through different corridors you noticed the walls lined with framed awards and recognition. However you didn’t see a single photo with Nanami alone. It was always with a team and he was standing on the side. 

“This is your office!”. Hitoshi opened a glass door and smiled widely at you.

You stepped inside and took a deep breath. This was a new start to your life. 

The office itself was smaller than your older office, if you can even call it your previous office, But it was well lit and felt welcoming. The office cabin exuded a sense of tranquility and refined simplicity, blending traditional Japanese aesthetics with modern functionality. Bathed in warm, golden sunlight filtering through expansive shoji-style windows, the room felt open yet intimate. The wooden ceiling, adorned with exposed beams, added a rustic charm, while the polished wooden floor enhances the space’s elegance. At the heart of the room stood a sleek yet minimalist wooden desk, accompanied by a modern ergonomic chair. Above the desk, a delicate hanging lamp casted a soft glow, complementing the natural light. 

To the left, a sliding wooden lattice door led to another section of the office, maintaining privacy while preserving the openness of the space. Against the far wall, a scroll featuring traditional Japanese ink painting hung gracefully, adding a touch of cultural depth. A carefully placed bonsai tree in the corner breathed life into the room, reinforcing the connection to nature. 

As you made your way around the desk and ran your fingers along the edge of the chair you noticed that you could see the main lobby clearly from your chair. Hitoshi noticed your observation and walked over to the side of the desk, “If you want privacy then you can press this button and the glass door will become opaque”. He pressed a small button under the desk and the glass door became opaque in an instant.

“I see. This is beautiful”.

Hitosi pulled out a drawer and took out a docket. “This is your ID card”. He handed you the ID card with the same Lanyard as his. “You can wear it however you want but you will need it to access all the rooms in the office”. 

You took the ID card and saw your smiling face with your employee ID, birth date, and a barcode on it. “Thank you”.

Hitoshi removed a sleek folder from the main docket and placed it on the desk. “This is a brief for the new Project. Nanami-san wanted to hear your thoughts on it later in the day. He said it is not a rush and you should take your time settling in”. 

You nodded and picked up the brown file. “No worries. This would give me something to do today”. You smiled.

Hitoshi nodded happily. “This is your induction document. It has some forms that you need to fill for your emergency contact and insurance. It also has a brief overview of the firm and our past projects so feel free to go through that. I think you will find it interesting”.

“I see”.

Hitoshi placed the thicker document on the table and clapped his hands, “Well I will leave you to it. Oh and if you need anything then please call me”. Hitoshi extended his work card with both hands and you took it with a bow. “It has my mobile and office number so…call me on any. I am here to help you”.

“Okay”.

“Oh and this is your laptop, The login id and password are in your induction file. We all have lunch together in the cafeteria together at 12:30 PM sp please join us. You can meet the rest of the team!”.

“Sure I would love to!”. 

“Great, then enjoy your day and explore!”. Hitoshi gave you a courteous bow and left your office. 

You took a deep breath and plopped down the chair. As happy as you were you had an unsettling feeling that something was about to happen. You had erased the path that led you to Gojo but does this mean that you will never see him again? You tried hard to recollect what the man had told you, “Redo your fate…”. Did that mean that you could completely erase Gojo or did it mean something else. 

By the time lunch time rolled around you had finished going through the project brief and finished your formalities. The firm was quite smaller compared to the domain with only 120 people working here. You even took a video of your new office and sent it to your mom who was in awe of how beautiful it was. 

“y/n!!”. Hitoshi called out to you and waved his hand when he saw you walking through the doors of the cafeteria. 

You made your way to the long wood table where everyone was sitting. “Hello everyone, I am y/n. Nice to meet you all”. You bowed as you introduced yourself. 

Everyone bowed in return and welcomed you to sit with them. “This is maya”. Hitoshi pointed to a blue haired girl. “She handles our digital marketing so you will work closely with her”.

“Nice to meet you y/n-san! Hitoshi has said such good things about you. I look forward to working with you”.

“Nice to meet you Maya. Please call me y/n”. 

“This is Juno,” Hitoshi pointed to a brown haired, spectacled guy in a crisp blue shirt. “He works in accounting”.

“Nice to meet you Juno”. 

Juno smiled politely and bowed in return. 

“He doesn’t talk much but he is really good with numbers!”. Hitoshi continued. “And he is dating Maya”.

Both Juno and Maya turned pink. “Congratulations!”. You smiled at the couple. 

“This is Suzume,”Hitoshi pointed to the girl with a ponytail and rimless glasses. She handles appointments and office administrators. If you need anything, she will help you”.

“Nice to meet you Suzume”.

“Nice to meet you too y/n. I hope you didn’t have trouble settling in”.

“No. None at all. Hitoshi was very kind and gave me a tour of the office”.

She smiled, “If you ever need anything please reach out to me. I will be happy to help you”.

“Thank you”.

"Welcome to the gang!”. Hitohsi exclaimed with jazz hands.

The lunch was filled with chatter about office gossip and latest projects. But you didn’t feel left out at all. Everyone happily shared context to every gossip, sometimes even talking over one another. Juno was the quietest of the lot but everytime he spoke he sent everyone laughing till their stomachs hurt. You could tell that the group was very close but not exclusive. Their unique personalities blended well together and Hitoshi felt like the glue that held everyone together. 

After lunch everyone went for coffee and a small stroll around the garden and it gave you an opportunity to get to know everyone individually. You exchanged numbers and social media id with everyone even Juno who had only two posts and both were with Maya, which was endearing. Suzume, though she looked stoic, loved to chat about anything and everything. Maya and Hitoshi were like siblings who were always bickering. Juno was a man of few words but he was not cold. He spoke about the office and how he met Maya, you could tell he was really warm and loving man.

As you made your way back to your office your phone buzzed in your pocket. It was an unknown number but it seemed familiar. Maybe it was someone from the group. 

“Hello?”. 

…..

“Hello? This is y/n..”

….

You frowned and stared at the number. 

“Nanami-san?”

The person on the other side cut the call. You shrugged and put your phone back in your pocket. 

You stood outside Nanami’s cabin staring at the plaque on the door. You were nervous about meeting him despite Hitoshi assuring you that he is a kind and generous person. You raised your fist and gently tapped on the wooden door.

“Come in”.  A stern voice replied from the other end. 

You turned the knob gently and walked in. “Hi, I am..”

“y/n. Yes. I am Kento Nanami. Nice to meet you finally”. Nanami got up and bowed at you.

“Hi. Nice to meet you too”. You smiled and relaxed. 

He motioned towards the seat and you sat across from him. 

“How was your first day?”.

“It was good. Hitoshi introduced me to some people and also gave me a tour”.

“Oh he is very excited about working with you. He is talented but talks a lot”. Nanami chuckled and his eyes glinted like a proud father teasing his child.

“Yes he did”. You felt a bit nervous now that you had gotten a good look at Nanami. He was exceptionally good looking. His crisp blue shirt clung to his well built torso. His blond hair shimmered in the light and was set very neatly on top of his head. He had a calming and respectful presence. Even his office was neatly organized and well kept. 

“Are you settled in? There were some formalities for the HR”.

“Yes I submitted the forms right before coming here actually”.

“That’s great. How has your day been so far?”.

“Quite good. I went through the project brief that you had sent”. “Oh yes. But before we discuss that I would like to get to know you. What are your ambitions and dreams? And above all, what can my firm do to support you?”.

You were taken aback by his question. No one had ever asked you what you wanted let alone wanted to support you. “I..I just want to do meaningful and creative work. I want to ..help businesses grow through strategic creativity. I am not overly ambitious with respect to position and pay. As long as I can create value and support my family I am happy”.

Nanami pondered over your words for a while and the silence made you question your answer. But your anxiousness was soon washed away by his warm smile. “That is a refreshing answer. I have asked this question to many people and very few have ever given me a genuine answer. I look forward to working with you”.

You smiled widely. “Thank You”.

“So are you from Kyoto?”. Nanami asked.

“Yes and No. I was born and raised in Tokyo but moved to Kyoto 5 years ago for my family. But I love it here”.

“Oh I see. I am also not a native but moved here around the same time as you did”. He added.

“What brought you to Kyoto?”

Nanami leaned back in his chair and he thought about it for a while. He had spent so much time here that he had almost forgotten why he moved here. “For some peace and quiet. The firm I was working with in Tokyo was good and quite well paying but money isn’t everything. Once I had earned enough to move here I packed my bags and left the city”.

You nodded.”But why..Kyoto? If you don’t mind me asking”.

Nanami chuckled. “My Grandmother was from here and I remember visiting her as a child and falling in love with the culture and architecture. In some ways it inspired me to do what I am doing”.

“I can understand. Beauty of the architecture here is unmatched in my opinion. It compels me to take a step back and observe and be present but at the same time brings the creativity out of me”.

Nanami looked at you and gave a satisfying smile. “I couldn’t agree more”.

A light tap on the door broke the comfortable silence in the room.

“Come in”. Nanami said and sat up straight in his seat.

A petite girl with a bob cut peaked her head in through the gap, “Sorry to disturb you, but..Kasumi-san is on the phone”.

“I will take my leave”. You got up and bowed. “I hope to speak to you again”.

“Yes. Thank you for stopping by. If you need anything please reach out to me”. Nanami replied with a professional smile. 

“Yes”.

You rode back home with a smile on your face. You felt content..mostly. These were good people. Honest people. You knew that not all days would be good but you would rather go through the bad days with good people than good days with the bad ones.  But something was tugging at your heart and you couldn’t understand what. Maybe you were scared that all of this was a dream and when you woke up you would be back in the alley drunk and miserable. But this was real. The air on your face was real. The grip on your bike handle was real. The sight pain in your left shoulder was real. Nanami was real. Histoshi was real.

As you parked your bike near the garage, you could hear the chatter form the television inside and the light chatter between your mom and brother seeping through the walls. This was real.

“I am home!”. You announced as you took your shoes off and slipped into your house slipper.

“Welcome home! Dinner is almost ready! How was your first day?”. Your mother called from the kitchen. 

You walked in the living room and saw your brother sitting in front of the television with his eyes glued. He looked up at you briefly and then back to the television. Were you the same as a teenager? So brooding. 

“It was good”. You kept your bag on the couch and plopped down next to your brother.

“Did you make any new friends?”. Your mom asked as she made her way in the living room with a tray and gently put the glass of water on the table.

You chuckled. “Mom, I am not in school anymore. But, yes I did make new friends”.

Ren looked at you through the corner of his eyes, “Are they all nerdy like you?”.

You threw a cushion at him, “At least I have friends”.

“Enough you two! I washed these cushions today! y/n go wash up and come for dinner”.

As you sat down to eat dinner you felt grateful for the choice you had made. Seeing your mom and brother happy made it all worth it. “Mom, there are tomatoes in the curry!”. You whined.

“Oh god y/n. You should eat tomatoes. They are in season and good for you”.

“She is such a child”. Ren chuckled.

“Do you want that new game or not?”. 

“You are the best sister in the world”. Ren bowed sarcastically, making you giggle.

You mom put her spoon down and looked at you trying to recollect something.

“What?”. You asked.

“Oh yes! Someone called for you today”.

“For me? Who?”.

“I don’t know. They asked whether you were home and I told them you were at work”.

“Did you ask for their name?”. You asked, eating a spoonful of rice.

“I did.. But they cut the call”.

You shrugged. “Must be the HR confirming my home number”.

“Yeah..but-”.

“Mom”. You tilted your head and looked at her reassuringly. Your mom had an affinity for fussing over these things. “It’s all good”.

“Are you sure?”.

“Yes. I am sure”. You turned to Ren, “How was school?”.

“Good”. 

You stared at him prompting him to expand on his reply.

“What?”.

“You were supposed to get your test result today?”.

“Oh Yeah I did. I did alright”.

“Alright?”. You mom scoffed. “He scored the highest y/n! I am so happy!”.

“Oh wow. So there is a brain inside that skull!”. You and your mom giggled. “How about all of us go for a picnic to celebrate this weekend?”.

Ren shook his head. “I have a soccer match”.

“After the match?”. Your mom asked, raising her brows excitedly.

“Maybe..”.

You and your mom exchanged knowing looks as you mimicked his signature brooding expression, causing her to burst into laughter. The sound was warm and familiar, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. It filled your heart with joy, yet beneath the surface, a dull ache lingered. The memory of a conversation from what felt like a past life weighed on your mind. She was a kind woman—selfless, devoted. Was it truly wrong for her to have been ambitious? To have wanted more, after spending her entire life working tirelessly for her children? She was simple at heart, never asking for much. A flawed human, yes, but still the mother you loved with every fiber of your being.

Without a second thought, you crawled closer and wrapped your arms around her, burying your face into her shoulder. The warmth of her embrace was immediate as she instinctively draped an arm over you, her laughter fading into quiet concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle yet firm.

A lump formed in your throat, making it impossible to speak. You simply nodded, gripping the fabric of her sleeve a little tighter.

“Can you stop being so emo?” Ren deadpanned from across the table, breaking the silence.

A surprised giggle escaped your lips.

“Dick!” You shot back, sniffling as you leaned back onto your cushion.

“Language, Y/N!” your mom scolded, though there was no real bite to her words.

“Sorry… Dick-san,” you corrected yourself, purposefully avoiding her gaze.

Ren couldn’t hold it in anymore—his giggles burst forth, and soon, you joined him. Laughter rippled through the dining room, filling the space with warmth, momentarily washing away the heaviness in your chest.

You walked into your room with a smile on your face, a rare kind of lightness in your steps. The day had been kind to you, filling your chest with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time. You placed your bag on your study chair, its usual spot, and let your eyes drift to the blue paper lying on your desk. It was as if it had been waiting for you. You picked it up, running your fingers over the slightly crumpled edges before reading the three words printed on it—Make a wish. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you held it a little longer, as if hoping the words would whisper their magic into your heart.

Without another thought, you slipped the paper under your pillow and crawled into bed. The ceiling above blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, sliding down silently, tracing cold lines on your cheeks. It was only now, in the quiet solitude of your room, that you finally understood—why your heart felt both light and unbearably heavy at the same time. You were happy, yes, but not over him. The realization settled over you like a weight you didn’t know you were still carrying. A part of you despised him, resented the way he had left you tangled in memories you couldn’t escape. And yet, another part—one you wished you could silence—still longed for him. Still wondered why life had given you this moment of happiness but had refused to let you have him too.

A soft chuckle bubbled up through your throat, shaky and bitter, as more tears seeped into your pillow. How greedy of you to want it all. The fatal flaw of human nature—greed. Was that what this was? Wanting happiness and love at the same time, as if the universe hadn’t already decided what you could and couldn’t have? You took a deep, trembling breath, wiping your face as you reached for your phone.

His number. You still remembered it, every digit burned into your mind. Almost unconsciously, your fingers tapped it in, and you stared at the screen, at the sequence of numbers that once connected you to him. The thought crossed your mind like a whisper—If I call now, just to hear his voice… would he pick up? Would he hesitate? Would he sigh before answering? Would he want to talk to you, even now?

Doubt gnawed at you. Should I call? And if he answered… what would I even say?

Your thumb hovered over the call icon, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. It would take just a second, just one small movement to bridge the silence between you.

But before you could tap the screen, your phone vibrated in your hand. A notification flashed across the display.

It was from Nanami.

Nanami: Hello y/n. Sorry for messaging you so late. I apologize for cutting out conversation short today. I would like to continue it. Would you be available to discuss it over lunch sometime?

y/n: Hello. I look forward to continuing our conversation. Will you be out of office tomorrow?

Nanami: Yes. I am flying out tomorrow to meet with a client. I will be back in 2 weeks.

y/n: Good luck for your meeting :) Looking forward to our conversation :)

Nanami: That’s good to hear. I will see you tomorrow. Good Night.

Y/n: Good night.

You stretched your arms above your head as you woke up five minutes before your alarm rang. The soft glow of early morning light filtered through your curtains, casting gentle shadows across your room. Turning off the soon-to-ring alarm, you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. A cool breeze drifted in as you opened the window, carrying the crisp scent of the morning air. You took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs, a simple but refreshing start to the day.

Over the past few days, you had come to a realization—you needed balance. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Life had been moving at a relentless pace, and you often found yourself dwelling on things that had already passed, replaying scenarios in your head that you had no control over anymore. But that had to stop. You had to accept that whatever had to happen, happened. It was in the past, and no amount of overthinking was going to change it. Moving forward, you wanted to be more intentional about your time, about how you took care of yourself.

With Maya’s help, you had finally found some skincare that suited your skin. It had been trial and error for a while, and you had never really paid much attention to it before. But now, cleansing your face and applying a light moisturizer every morning had become a part of your routine—something small, but something that makes you feel good. You also started attending yoga classes three days a week, incorporating morning meditation into your daily schedule. At first, sitting still and focusing on your breath felt unnatural, but as the days went by, you began to enjoy the sense of calm it brought you. It was a slow, grounding practice, a stark contrast to the chaos of daily life.

To be honest, you felt good about it. You had always been skeptical of the so-called "self-care" routines promoted all over social media. It all seemed like a marketing gimmick—just another way to sell overpriced products and push people towards overconsumption. But as you settled into your own routine, you realized that self-care wasn’t about buying things you didn’t need; it was about creating habits that made you feel like a better version of yourself. The clarity that came with a consistent routine was something you hadn’t expected, but you welcomed it.

On top of that, you had started taking a pottery class with Hitoshi. He was exceptionally good at it, his hands shaping the clay with ease, as if it were second nature to him. You, on the other hand, were still figuring things out. You had done some ceramics back in college, but nothing that compared to his skill level. Still, you were determined to keep going. There was something incredibly satisfying about working with your hands, molding something from nothing, watching it take shape. The imperfections didn’t bother you as much as they used to. It was a process, just like everything else in life.

Hobbies, routine, balance—they were all good for you. You were finally starting to understand that.

On the work front, things were looking good as well. Nanami was coming back to the office today, and you were excited to share your project progress with him and get his thoughts on items you were unsure about. His insight always brought a fresh perspective, and you were hoping for some clarity on the lingering issues in your report. So, you packed your bags and got dressed in a navy blue pleated skirt and a light blue sweater to beat the slight chill in the air. Your ever-trusted white sneakers were all ready and waiting at the door as you said your goodbye to your mom and hurriedly stepped out.

The streets looked especially busy today. Lots of black cars with tinted windows lined the roads, idling at the curbs, their drivers standing around, speaking into earpieces or quietly observing passersby. It was a little unusual, but you chalked it up to the trade summit happening in Kyoto this week. You had seen news reports about the influx of foreign delegations and the heightened security measures around the city, so it made sense that the streets were bustling with official-looking vehicles.

As you parked your bike in the usual spot, you noticed that a lot of similar cars were lined outside the office as well. That was strange. Usually, the client visits were low-key, nothing that warranted this level of presence.

“Morning, Y/N!” Maya chirped as she walked up to you, her coffee cup in hand. She was in her usual sleek business-casual attire, her blazer casually draped over her arm.

“Maya! Morning!” You smiled as you locked your bike. Maya and Juno shared an apartment close to the office and often walked in together, so you were surprised to see only Maya today.

“Where’s Juno?” You asked as the two of you began walking towards the office entrance, weaving between the neatly trimmed trees that lined the pathway.

Maya took a sip of her coffee before responding, “He had to come in early today to prepare for the meeting with the big client from Tokyo.”

“New client? I didn’t know about the new cliente.” Your brows furrowed as you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your emails in case you had missed an important announcement.

“Chill.” Maya laughed. “They’re just visiting today. Probably to start a new project in Kyoto, and apparently, they want to collaborate with us to get some street cred.” She giggled, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “You know Juno, he likes to triple-check everything, and the finance team has been lean for a while, so he has to do some extra work.”

“Aaah… I see.” You breathed a sigh of relief. “Looks like an important client, though. I saw a lot of those black cars on my way here. I thought they were here for the summit.”

“Me too!” Maya nodded. “But then Juno told me about this big-shot client. Between the two of us, it’s a multi-million-dollar project. Nanami-san has been trying to get this project for quite some time.”

“Really? What changed?” You asked, curiosity piqued.

Maya shrugged as she tapped her ID card to check in at the entrance. “No one knows. They’ve been rejecting our proposal for two years, and now they’re suddenly ready to move forward.”

You nodded thoughtfully. Even inside, the office was bustling. Employees were gathered in small groups, speaking in hushed tones, some looking over documents, others straightening their suits as if bracing for an important encounter. The energy was different—there was an air of anticipation.

As you walked in, you overheard snippets of conversation. Words like ‘contract finalization,’ ‘strict timeline,’ and ‘biggest deal of the year’ floated through the air. The excitement was palpable.

Juno rushed over, adjusting his tie and holding a tablet. “Y/N! You made it just in time.”

“For what?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“They want to see our project proposal,” Juno said, looking slightly out of breath. “Nanami-san asked if you could present some of your findings on the community project. Apparently, the client is particularly interested in that section.”

Your stomach did a little flip. Present? Today? To a client you didn’t even know was coming until this morning? “Wait, I thought this was just an initial visit,” you said cautiously.

Juno shook his head. “Things are moving fast. They might be signing today if all goes well.”

You exchanged a glance with Maya, who simply grinned and patted your shoulder. “Looks like you’re in the spotlight, Y/N.”

Taking a deep breath, you straightened up. “Alright. Let’s do this.” You were confident that you had done some really good work and hoped that you could make Nanami proud.

Whatever had changed the client’s mind, this was a major opportunity—and you were about to play a part in it.

“Oh I need to check some things with the IT so I will go ahead. Catch you at lunch?”. Maya raised an eyebrow.

“I might be having lunch with Nanami today”. You smiled.

Maya gave you a teasing look. The gang had been teasing you with Nanami ever since the two of you started talking on the phone and texting. You felt giddy but you knew it would take you some time to completely get over him. “It’s a work lunch!”. You added.

“Sure. I believe you!”. Maya rolled her eyes and waved you bye. 

Walking up to the elevator you were excited to meet Nanami today. All the talking and texting on the phone over the past two weeks had made you feel a bit closer to him.Even if some conversations were about the analysis you were working on you felt closer to him .You were lost in your thoughts about Nanami when the elevator doors opened. 

You looked up, and time stopped.

Standing in front of you, bathed in the soft morning light, was Gojo Satoru. His white hair caught the sun just right, making it glow like a halo, but the smirk tugging at his lips was anything but angelic. He wore his signature blue Zegna sweater and fitted trousers, effortlessly elegant yet impossibly relaxed. His gaze, hidden behind dark-tinted lenses, was trained on you—steady, unreadable, predatory in a way that made your breath hitch.

The elevator doors were about to close when he reached out, pressing a button without breaking eye contact. “Gettin’ in?” His voice was smooth, teasing, dripping with something that made your stomach tighten.

“I… yes.” You swallowed hard and stepped in, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

The doors slid shut, enclosing the two of you in a space suddenly too small, too warm. The silence crackled. You could feel his presence beside you—broad shoulders, lean frame, the faint scent of something expensive and clean, laced with an undertone of danger. His gaze was heavy, deliberate, traveling over you in a way that made your skin burn. You refused to look at him, but your body betrayed you, every nerve ending acutely aware of his proximity.

Your head was spinning so fast that when the elevator gave a tiny jolt, your balance wavered. Your breath hitched as you stumbled slightly only to be caught by firm hands.

One large palm splayed against your waist, the other curling gently around your wrist, steadying you with ease. His grip was firm, warm, the heat of his touch searing through the layers of your clothes. You sucked in a sharp breath, finally daring to look up.

Gojo was watching you, the usual playful smirk nowhere to be seen. Instead, something darker flickered across his face, something unreadable yet entirely consuming. His fingers flexed slightly before he let go, his touch lingering just a second too long.

"Careful," he murmured, voice softer now, but no less dangerous.

When the elevator chimed and the doors slid open to the top floor, you bolted, clutching your bag as if it were a lifeline. You barely registered where you were going, only stopping once you reached your office chair. Exhaling shakily, you forced yourself to focus—until you glanced up and saw him through the transparent door.

Gojo Satoru, still smirking, was walking towards Nanami’s office. But just before disappearing inside, he turned his head—locking eyes with you through the glass.

And this time, you couldn’t look away.

Only when he disappeared behind the door did you finally let out the breath you had been holding. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, heart pounding like a war drum. Beads of sweat rolled down your forehead, sliding down your neck, and your throat felt parched, as if you had swallowed dust. You could still feel the ghost of his touch burning on your waist, a brand that refused to fade. You knew what he was capable of. You knew the kind of power he wielded, the lines he had already crossed. And yet—the butterflies were back. A treacherous warmth spread through your body, leaving you weak at the knees.

Your vision blurred as you stumbled down the dimly lit L-shaped corridor toward the bathroom. A few people greeted you, their voices distant, but you barely managed a nod. Some gave you questioning looks, sensing something was wrong. You didn’t care. You just needed to get away.

The moment you locked the bathroom door behind you, you rushed to the sink. Cold water. That was all you could think about. You splashed it over your face again and again, until your cheeks stung, until strands of your hair were soaked, clinging to your skin. But you didn’t care. You needed to wake up. This had to be some kind of nightmare. Why was he here? What did he want? A thousand thoughts clashed in your mind, each one more terrifying than the last. You wiped the patch of skin he had touched so harshly that you almost gave yourself a rash. 

You looked up, meeting your own reflection. The blood had drained from your face, leaving you ghostly pale. You looked like you had aged overnight.

Straightening up, you took a slow, deliberate breath. What were you so afraid of? He didn’t know you. He didn’t know anything about you. He did not exist in your reality.

All you had to do was stay out of his way. Yes, stay out of his way.

Not too hard.

You could do it.

Grabbing a paper towel, you wiped your face, inhaled deeply, and stepped out.

“y/n! Are you seeing this?” Hitoshi exclaimed as you walked into your office, his voice laced with urgency. Maya and Suzume sat on the love seat, looking nervous, their hands clasped together in silent tension.

“What happened?” You asked, your brows knitting together as you looked between them. You sniffled slightly, the remnants of a cold making your throat feel scratchy, before making your way to your chair. The air in the room felt thick, charged with unease.

“The chaos!” Suzume blurted out, her eyes darting towards the large glass windows. “They are everywhere.”

You exhaled, leaning back in your chair. “So what? It’s just a matter of a few days, and once the project is finalized, they will be out of here,” you said, trying to sound convincing, but your own words felt hollow even to you.

“Y/n,” Suzume called out, her voice unsteady. “This is not a project. Nobody brings this many people for a project.”

She was right. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably as you processed her words. It was unusual—no, it was more than that. It was downright alarming. And then there was him. His presence alone made this situation far more complicated.

“What are you implying?” you asked, your voice quieter this time, as if afraid to hear the answer.

Heavy silence hung over the room. No one wanted to voice what you all knew deep down. The truth was there, glaring and undeniable. Maya bit her nails nervously, her eyes refusing to meet yours. Finally, she whispered, “It’s an acquisition.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. You exchanged glances with your team, all of them reflecting the same fear. Change was coming, and not the kind you could easily maneuver around.

But you had to keep the morale up. “So what if it is?” You straighten your posture, forcing a confident tone. “We are the core team. Our jobs are secure. You guys don’t need to worry. And as far as all this chaos goes, an acquisition doesn’t necessarily mean that they will move here. That wouldn’t make sense. They can acquire and let us be as well.”

You saw their shoulders drop slightly, the tension easing just a fraction. “It’s going to be fine. We just need to make sure that we nail the presentation, and we’ll see where to go from there.”

“Can you please talk to Nanami-san?” Maya asked, her voice hopeful.

“Yes! Please, y/n!” Suzume added. “I… please, y/n.”

“Now?” you asked, your nerves kicking in.

“If possible,” Hitoshi said, his tone almost pleading. “You are the only one he will listen to! I know this! Please!”.

You bit your lip nervously, pulled out your phone, and began typing.

y/n: Hi, I know you must be busy, but can we please talk? It’s urgent.

You set your phone down, uncertain of when or if Nanami would reply. To your surprise, your phone buzzed almost immediately.

Nanami: Sure. You can come to my office.

“Okay. I will go and talk to him. Stay here!” You grabbed your phone and hurried to his office, hoping—praying—not to run into Gojo on the way.

You tapped on the door gently, your voice steady despite the nerves bubbling under your skin. “It’s me.”

“Come in,” Nanami replied, his calm voice providing the smallest sense of reassurance.

Stepping inside, a smile unconsciously formed on your face at the sight of him. But your smile faltered the moment another figure swiveled in his chair.

Gojo Satoru.

You felt the air shift as he turned, his signature grin in place, eyes sharp and knowing.

“Y/n, meet Gojo Satoru,” Nanami said, first looking at you, then at Gojo.

You swallowed, plastering on a polite smile. “Hi. Nice to meet you.” You gave a courteous bow, mentally chanting Fake it till you make it, y/n.

Gojo smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Nice to meet you… y/n,” he drawled, drawing out your name with an unsettling familiarity.

“Please, have a seat,” Nanami offered, gesturing to the chair next to Gojo.

Your pulse quickened. “Oh, it’s alright. I can come in later,” you said quickly, trying to keep your voice steady.

Nanami, ever perceptive, caught the nervousness in your expression. He exhaled softly before speaking. “Mr. Gojo, if you could excuse me, I have something to discuss with y/n, please excuse me” He stood, moving around his desk, and gently took your hand, guiding you towards the door.

The moment was brief but not unnoticed. You could feel Gojo’s eyes on you, his gaze lingering with keen interest as you stepped out with Nanami, the weight of the encounter pressing heavily on your shoulders.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”, Nanami asked with genuine curiosity as the two of you stood outside his office.

“Yes. Yes I am but..all this..what is going on?”. You fiddled with your phone in your hand.

“I know this is too sudden. I wish I could explain in detail but..”. Nanami looked at you like he was searching for the right word, “The truth is that we are being acquired”.

“What about-”.

“All jobs are safe y/n. I assure you. It was a key condition”.

“Will we have to move?”. 

“No. We are not going anywhere”. Nanami smiled.

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much! Everyone was so nervous. I was so nervous.”.

Nanami smiled. “Don’t be. Nothing changes for us”. Nanami felt compelled to hold you but he couldn’t. Not now. Not here. Not yet. Instead he squeezed your hand gently to reassure you.

You nodded happily. “I will leave you to attend to..him”. You nudge your head towards the door.

Nanami smiled and went back in.

“Good news everyone!”. You announced as you walked into your office confidently. “Nothing changes for us. Our jobs are safe. We are not going anywhere”.

“Seriously?!”. Maya jumped from the couch and hugged you.

Suzume joined in, “Thank you, y/n! I was so scared”.

“Can I join in as well?”Hitoshi asked.

You all nodded and were soon in a group hug.

“But wait..”, Hitoshi was the first to pull away. “...If we are not going anywhere does it mean they are moving here?”.

You hadn’t thought about that possibility yet. 

“Who cares if they move here? They are too uptight to survive here. As long as we have each other we should be fine right?”. Maya added happily.

“Yes”. Suzume spoke. “This is my office and this is my gang. No one messes with us!”.

You smiled painfully. Would he actually move here? No. He loves his Tokyo office too much. Everyone he loves and cares for is there. He will never move here.

The conference room was silent as you set up your presentation. The projector flickered to life, displaying your carefully prepared slides. Nanami sat at the head of the table, his arms crossed, his eyes sharp and attentive. Hitoshi tapped his pen against the table, looking eager yet tense. And then there was Gojo.

He lounged back in his chair, long legs stretched out, one arm lazily resting on the table as he watched you. His gaze was heavy, teasing, knowing. It made the air feel thick, your skin prickling under his attention.

You cleared your throat. "Good afternoon, everyone. I'll be walking you through our marketing strategy for the new community center." You clicked the remote, and the first slide appeared.

"Mmm, community engagement," Gojo murmured, "I do love getting involved."

Your fingers momentarily slipped on the remote. You shot him a sharp glance, but he merely grinned, tilting his head as if daring you to react.

Nanami cleared his throat. "Y/n, continue."

You steadied yourself. "Right. As I was saying, our goal is to position the community center as a cornerstone of social support and development. We've outlined a multi-tiered marketing approach to ensure maximum reach and engagement."

You advanced to the next slide, outlining key engagement strategies. "First, we plan to leverage digital marketing—social media campaigns, email outreach, and targeted ads. This will help us attract younger demographics while maintaining communication with existing community members."

Gojo hummed softly. "You think social media alone is enough? A few posts and hashtags, and suddenly people show up?"

You met his gaze, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened. "No, which is why we’re also implementing offline strategies, including community events, partnerships with local businesses, and promotional materials distributed across key locations."

Nanami nodded approvingly. "That’s a well-rounded approach. Have you considered potential barriers to engagement, such as accessibility or public perception?"

You smiled slightly, grateful for the constructive question. "Yes, accessibility is a key concern, so we're prioritizing inclusive events and transportation support. As for public perception, we’ve designed a community outreach program to build trust through transparency. Open house events and Q&A sessions will allow residents to voice their concerns and feel involved."

Nanami’s lips curled slightly upward. "Impressive. That level of detail will go a long way in securing support."

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and you looked down briefly before moving to the next slide.

A soft scoff came from Gojo. "Huh. Didn’t realize Nanami gave out compliments now. Must be a special occasion."

You glanced at him, but he was already looking away, his jaw tight. His fingers drummed against the table a little too firmly, his usual smirk nowhere to be seen.

You swallowed and continued. "Next, we have our timeline—broken down into three phases: awareness, engagement, and retention. In the awareness phase, we’ll generate buzz through teaser campaigns and influencer collaborations. Engagement will focus on community-driven events, and retention will involve long-term initiatives like membership programs and recurring events."

Gojo leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "And how do you plan to measure success?"

You hesitated for only a second before answering. "Through key performance indicators: attendance rates, social media analytics, membership sign-ups, and community feedback. By tracking these, we can adapt our strategy as needed."

Gojo smirked. "Smart. Adaptability is attractive."

Your breath hitched, and you fought to keep your expression neutral. Nanami, seemingly unfazed, ignored him. "What’s your budget allocation for these strategies?"

You exhaled, focusing back on the presentation. "We’ve broken the budget into three main categories: promotional materials, digital marketing, and event organization. The majority is allocated to events since direct community interaction is our primary goal."

Nanami nodded again, thoughtful. "That’s a sound distribution. Have you anticipated any risks?"

You moved to the next slide. "Yes. Low initial engagement, budget constraints, and potential resistance from the community. We’ve developed contingency plans, including alternative funding options and additional outreach efforts."

Gojo leaned in slightly, his voice softer. "And if something unexpected happens? What’s your personal approach when things don’t go as planned?"

You hesitated, feeling the intensity in his stare. "I adapt," you said finally. "Find solutions on the spot. Panic doesn’t solve problems."

Gojo’s smirk deepened. "Good answer."

Nanami shifted in his chair. "I think that covers everything. Well done, y/n. Your strategy is comprehensive and well-thought-out."

Your chest warmed at the praise, and you gave a small nod. "Thank you."

Gojo let out a breathy chuckle, tapping his fingers against the table. "Guess we’re lucky to have someone so capable."

Nanami stood. "We’ll move forward with the plan. I’ll arrange for a follow-up next week."

As the meeting ended, you began gathering your notes. Nanami reached over to hand you a stray document, his fingers grazing yours. "You really did a great job. This will set a solid foundation for our project."

You smiled, nodding. "I appreciate that, Nanami. I really do."

From the corner of your eye, you saw Gojo shift in his seat. His usual smug expression darkened slightly, his lips pressing together in a thin line.

Then, just as you turned, Gojo suddenly stood, stepping closer than necessary. His fingers brushed the small of your back, a light but unmistakable touch. "Careful, y/n," he murmured near your ear. 

Your breath caught, and you turned your head slightly, only to find his gaze locked onto yours, a knowing glint in his eyes. The room felt too small, too charged. Was he seriously flirting with you? Here? Now? When he didn’t even know you? Dick!

Nanami cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Let’s wrap up. We all have work to do."

Gojo exhaled dramatically. "Right, right. Work first."

As you gathered your things, Gojo lingered for just a second longer watching you attentively like a predator sizing up a prey.

The restaurant hums with quiet conversation, the soft clinking of silverware filling the space between you. It’s been two weeks since you last saw him—two weeks since you’ve felt this strange sense of steadiness that only seems to settle when Nanami is near.

You shouldn’t have missed him. You tell yourself it’s just the adjustment period—just the way work has been hectic. But sitting across from him now, watching as he carefully rolls up his sleeves, you realize how much you had noticed his absence.

Nanami sets his phone down, screen facing the table. His gestures are always deliberate, his presence as composed as ever, but there’s something almost hesitant about the way his gaze lingers on you before he speaks.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

You shake your head. “Not at all. I just got here.”

He nods, glancing at your glass. “Not drinking?”

You glance at the untouched wine. “Didn’t feel like it.”

His eyes sharpen slightly, just for a second. “You seem tense.”

You exhale, leaning back slightly. “It’s just work.”

Nanami studies you for a moment, quiet and unreadable. Then, as if making a decision, he leans forward slightly, voice softer now.

“As long as I am here, you don’t need to worry about anything.”

The words settle deep in your chest, warm and certain.

You blink, caught off guard. “That’s… a bold statement.”

Nanami doesn’t look away. “It’s the truth.”

Something about the way he says it makes you believe him.

You look down at your plate, focusing on the way your fingers toy with the edge of your napkin. “You don’t have to look out for me.”

“I know,” he says simply. “But I will.”

A quiet moment stretches between you.

Nanami tells himself he shouldn’t have said that. That this is a work lunch, just a routine check-in, nothing more. But the way your shoulders relax ever so slightly, the way you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding—he knows he can’t take it back.

And worse, he doesn’t want to.

So he clears his throat, shifting the conversation back to safer territory. Work, deadlines, next week’s meetings. He keeps his voice even, his demeanor steady, but beneath the surface, he feels it—the way his restraint is beginning to fray at the edges.

Somewhere between discussing a client proposal and finishing your meal, he finds himself speaking before he can stop himself.

“You can call me Kento.”

You blink, looking up. “What?”

Nanami’s jaw tightens, like he’s already regretting it, but his voice remains steady. “Outside of work. In the office, we keep things professional. I’d rather not have people getting the wrong idea.”

 “And what idea would that be?”, You asked hesitantly.

He holds your gaze, fingers tightening slightly around his glass. “That I favor you.”

The words come out firmer than he intends, laced with something he refuses to name.

You could tease him, lighten the moment with a joke. But instead, you let the words settle, something unreadable flickering in your own eyes before you nod.

“Alright,” you say softly. “Kento.”

Nanami exhales slowly, but he doesn’t allow himself to react. Not to the way his name sounds coming from you. Not to the way his pulse betrays him.

The plates have been cleared, the check untouched between you, but neither of you move to leave just yet.

And for now, that’s enough.

Gojo woke up sweating and panting, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. His heart pounded violently against his ribs as he frantically scanned his surroundings. The dim morning light filtered through the curtains of his penthouse bedroom, casting long shadows across the room. His sheets were tangled around his legs, damp with sweat. His fingers trembled as he reached for his phone on the nightstand, the bright screen forcing him to blink rapidly.

1st January 2021, 10:00 AM.

A sharp, throbbing pain coursed through his skull as he fell back onto his pillow, pressing his fingers against his temples in an attempt to dull the headache. His head felt like it was being split open, every pulse sending fresh waves of nausea through him. He gritted his teeth and let out a low groan, his body tense as he forced himself to take slow, deliberate breaths.

What the hell was going on? His mind raced, searching for an explanation. Was it just a nightmare? A lingering hallucination from the relentless drinking? The hazy remnants of some twisted memory? His throat was dry, and his body felt heavier than usual, like he was sinking into the mattress. Something was off—terribly off.

As he sat across from the new recruit, Gojo felt a bitterness seep into his heart, curling around his ribs like a vice. The poor girl was not at fault here—he knew that. But that didn’t stop him from despising her nonetheless.

He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders back before half-heartedly picking up her resume. The paper crinkled slightly between his fingers, his grip unintentionally tight.

“Can I just say, sir, that I am so excited to work with you! I have dreamt of working for you—I mean, for Domain Dynamics—for such a long time, and now that I’m sitting here, I—”

“Did I ask?” Gojo interrupted, raising a brow as he leaned back in his chair, his tone flat, his expression unreadable.

“I… I’m sorry,” she stammered, her enthusiasm instantly deflating.

“Do you even know where your office is?”

“Uh… no,” she admitted, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Gojo let out an exasperated sigh before pressing a button on his desk. “Miwa. In. Now.”

Within seconds, Miwa rushed in, her ever-efficient presence a stark contrast to the girl’s nervous energy. “Yes, sir.”

Gojo gestured vaguely in Sakura’s direction. “Can you show…” He paused, tilting his head slightly as if only now realizing he didn’t know her name. “What’s your name?”

“Sakura,” she replied, her voice quieter now.

“Yeah. Can you show Sakura her new… office and make sure she’s settled in?” His words were dismissive, as though she were an afterthought.

“Yes, sir!” Miwa chirped, already gesturing for the girl to follow.

“Oh, and Miwa,” Gojo added casually, just as they were about to leave. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. “Don’t move her into the office across from mine. Keep that one empty.”

Miwa hesitated. “But sir… that’s where—”

“I have a feeling it’ll be filled soon.” His smile widened, sharp and almost cruel.

Miwa nodded, understanding her cue. “Sure, sir. Sakura, please come with me.”

Sakura cast one last, uncertain glance at Gojo before trailing after Miwa, her earlier excitement all but gone.

With a sigh, he shifted in his seat, his foot bouncing against the floor in a restless rhythm. His fingers skimmed through the stack of resumes on his desk until they landed on one buried beneath Sakura’s. He pulled it free, lifting it to eye level.

The photo attached to the top corner caught his attention first. A smiling face, bright yet oddly familiar. His chest tightened—not with unease, but with something warmer, something steadier. It was rare for a simple photograph to evoke such a feeling.

But his moment of quiet curiosity was interrupted when his gaze dropped to the bottom of the page. A small, neatly printed note stood out against the crisp paper: Candidate withdrew.

His brows furrowed. Withdraw? Who in their right mind would turn down an offer at Domain Dynamics?

His fingers curled around the edges of the resume as he reached for his phone, his expression unreadable. He pressed a button, and the line connected almost instantly.

“I’m sending you a resume,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Find out everything about this person. Everything.”

A pause, then a sharp, efficient reply. “Yes, sir.”

Gojo exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around the paper as he glanced at the photo once more. This wasn’t over. Not yet.

It had been days, and he knew everything he needed to know about the mystery candidate. Every detail, every piece of information had been meticulously gathered, analyzed, and stored away in his mind. And yet, something was missing—pieces of the puzzle that refused to fit, gaps in the picture that made no sense. It gnawed at him, an itch he couldn’t scratch, a frustration that wouldn’t let go.

For the past week, sleep had eluded him. Every night, the same dream. Over and over. He was driving—no, running—through hazy, dimly lit streets, his pulse pounding, his breath ragged. Searching. Desperately looking for someone. But who? The answer was always just out of reach, slipping through his fingers like smoke. He woke up every morning with the same frustration, his mind clouded, his nerves frayed. It was affecting him more than he cared to admit. He could barely focus on anything else.

As he stepped into his penthouse, he loosened his tie roughly, exhaling sharply. The tension in his shoulders never seemed to leave these days. He had dismissed the security team for the night—he needed silence, space to think. His sanctuary, untouched and undisturbed. But the moment he walked through the heavy wooden doors, he knew something was off. A sound, faint but distinct, came from the kitchen.

He froze, muscles tensing.

“Hello?” His voice was sharp, edged with suspicion. “Who is there?”

Silence. No reply.

His jaw clenched as he moved towards the couch, reaching under it with practiced ease. His fingers wrapped around the cold steel of his hidden revolver. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled it out, steadying his grip before making his way toward the kitchen.

“Who is there?” he repeated, voice lower this time. Controlled. Dangerous.

He turned the corner, gun raised, finger steady on the trigger—only to be met with a sight that made him pause.

A man sat at the kitchen island, completely at ease, dressed in an expensive blue velvet coat. He was eating a bowl of cereal.

The man looked up, spoon mid-air, and grinned. “Hello!” he said cheerfully, as if this were a casual breakfast meet-up. “No need to get aggressive.”

Gojo didn’t lower the gun. His cerulean eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck are you, and what the hell are you doing here?”

The man sighed dramatically, putting his spoon down with deliberate slowness. Then, reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a silk handkerchief and dabbed his mouth. Every movement was calm. Unbothered.

“Come on, Satoru,” he said, tilting his head. “Forgot me already?”

Gojo’s grip on the gun tightened. His patience was wearing thin. “You have two minutes to explain yourself before I—”

“Before you what?” The man raised an eyebrow, amused. “Shoot me?” He leaned forward slightly. “Go ahead. But I should warn you… no bullet in the world can harm me.” His voice dropped, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “So, if you actually want some answers, I’d suggest you take a seat.” The man pointed at the seat opposite to him.

Gojo didn’t lower the gun, but after a long moment, he moved to the stool across from the man, his expression cold. “Continue.”

The man smirked. “Wow, straight to the point, huh?” He leaned back, stretching lazily. “Alright then… where should we start?”

“Who are you?” Gojo asked sternly, his grip tightening around the gun.

The man waved a hand dismissively, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. “Irrelevant. Ask a better question.”

Gojo’s jaw clenched. His usual confidence wavered against the man’s unshaken composure. “How do you know me?”

The man chuckled, a deep, knowing laugh that sent a chill down Gojo’s spine. “I know everyone in this world,” he said simply, as if stating an undeniable fact. Then, with an exaggerated motion, he scooped another spoonful of food into his mouth.

The silence between them was thick, weighed down by unspoken tension. Only the sound of loud, deliberate crunching filled the space.

Gojo inhaled sharply. “Are you here to kill me?”

The man stopped chewing mid-bite. Slowly, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then, he leaned back against his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “Kill you?” he repeated, almost amused. “I saved your life, Satoru. From the same gun you’re holding right now.”

Gojo frowned, glancing down at the weapon in his hands.

“The bullet in the barrel,” the man continued, voice unwavering, “has your name written on it. Not mine.”

Gojo’s fingers flexed over the grip. “When?” he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper.

The man tilted his head, studying him carefully. “The dreams…” he mused, stroking his chin. “Satoru, are they really dreams? Or are they flashes of memories?”

Gojo stiffened. A sharp inhale.

“How do—”

“What do you want the most right now?” The man cut him off, his voice softer this time, almost hypnotic.

Gojo stared at him blankly. The question caught him off guard.

“Hmm?” The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What do you want the most right now? At this moment. Money? Power? Answers?” His dark eyes glinted under the dim light. “I can grant you one wish. But first, you need to tell me… What do you want the most right now?”

“What do you mean?”. Gojo scoffed. “Who are you a magician?”.

“Funny huh?”. The man quipped. “How about I tell you about the dreams you have been having?”.

Gojo remained silent.

“So the dreams about wanting to save someone? Running through the dingy lanes? A bridge? A gun? Feeling lost and helpless?”.

Gojo stared at him silently. He had nothing to say. There was no way this guy knew about all of it. He hadn’t even shared it with Geto.

“Oh, only because Geto doesn’t know, I can’t know?”. He teased, leaving Gojo startled. “Look, I know everything. So what is it going to be? I can leave right now. I can make a meteor crash and destroy this earth. What do you want?”.

“Okay, even if you do know about…my dreams..how do I know that you can give me what I want?”. Gojo asked, still unsure.

“Hmmm, Interesting. Go ahead and ask for something instant. Try”.

“An apple”. He said.

With a poof an apple appeared in Gojo’s hand. “Go ahead and have a bite. It’s real”.

Gojo sniffed the apple and then took a bite and indeed it was real.

“A cat”. Gojo said.

The man rolled his eyes, “You are allergic to cats”. 

Gojo didn’t respond immediately. His mind raced, trying to find footing in the spiraling confusion. He had fought countless enemies, faced death a thousand times over, but this—this was different.

The man waited patiently, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The air between them felt electric, charged with something unseen yet tangible.

Gojo parted his lips, but no words came out.

Because for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure what to say. Words had always come easily to him—sharp, clever, effortless. But now, standing in the vast emptiness, facing the man before him, he found himself lost. His lips parted slightly, but nothing coherent escaped. Only hesitation, only uncertainty.

“I…” Gojo’s voice barely made a sound. His eyes flickered between the man and the empty space between them, as if searching for an answer that wasn’t there. He felt the weight of something heavy, something that had been pressing on his chest for far too long. His throat tightened. He swallowed hard, but it did little to stop the burn behind his eyes.

And then, a single word. One word raced through his mind, over and over, beating in his skull like a relentless drum. A word that had haunted him since the start of the year, threading itself through every thought, every moment of solitude. A word so powerful it had rooted itself deep inside him, becoming a part of his very existence. A word that embodied his wants, his needs, his deepest desires.

“Y/n…”

The man before him smiled, pleased, as if he had been expecting this answer all along.

“That’s your wish?” he asked, voice calm, measured, almost teasing.

“Yes.” Gojo breathed. The moment the word left his lips, he felt it settle within him, as though confirming what he already knew in his bones. It wasn’t just a wish—it was a truth more certain than his own existence. That’s what he wanted. That’s what he needed. Whether this was all a trick or not, he had to take a chance and know who y/n is.

“Y/n.”

The man tilted his head, amused. “Do you even know who that is?”

Gojo’s fingers trembled as he slowly lowered the gun he had been holding, the weight of it suddenly insignificant. He knew everything about her and yet nothing at all.

“...no,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t know why he was drawn to her. Why her name clung to his mind like a stubborn ghost. Why, out of all the possibilities, she was the only one he could think of. But he knew—without reason, without explanation—that he needed to be drawn to her. That whoever she was, she was the answer, the missing piece, the key to something far greater than himself.

His happiness. His life.

The man leaned back, arms crossed, studying him with an expression that was unreadable.

“So let me get this straight,” he said. “You don’t know who she is, but you’re certain she’s what you want?”

“Yes.” Gojo didn’t waver this time. His voice was steady. Sure.

The man chuckled, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “I can give you everything, you know. Power beyond imagination. Wealth that no mortal could ever dream of. I could carve a place for you in history so grand, no man or god could ever erase it! I could make you untouchable!” His eyes gleamed with something dangerous. “And you’re telling me, out of all that, you still choose ….y/n? Someone you don’t even know”

Gojo met his gaze without hesitation. A slow, knowing smile spread across his lips, the kind of smile that carried the weight of certainty.

“Yes.”

The man let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as if entertained by the sheer absurdity of it all. “Good job, Satoru,” he murmured, his amusement clear.

But then, something shifted. The lightness in his tone faded, replaced by something far heavier, something more ominous.

His expression darkened.

“But tell me,” he said, voice dropping just slightly. “Are you sure you can handle what I’m about to show you?”

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken meaning.

Gojo nodded.

No hesitation. No second-guessing. Just certainty.

The man exhaled through his nose, eyes narrowing slightly before he finally smirked. “Alright, then.”

And with that, the world around them began to change.

After what felt like an eternity, Gojo opened his eyes and found himself sitting on his couch, his body trembling as if he had been drowning in the depths of his own mind. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating, pressing down on his chest like an unbearable weight. Across from him, the man stood in eerie silence, watching him with an expression that held no sympathy ,only truth.

Tears streamed down Gojo’s cheeks, unchecked, raw, his breaths coming in uneven gasps. His fingers dug into his knees as he whispered, voice hoarse and broken, “I… I did that to her.”

The man gave him a slow, measured nod. “All of that.”

Gojo let out a shuddering exhale, his head hanging low as his vision blurred. His mind replayed every moment, every agonizing second he had been forced to relive. Every cruel word he had thrown at you, every time he had turned his back when all you needed was for him to stay. He saw the way your eyes had dimmed, the way your laughter had died in your throat. The moment you stopped reaching for him. And worst of all, the way you looked at him at the very end—broken, betrayed, as if he had torn out your very soul and crushed it beneath his heel.

His gut twisted violently. He thought he had been protecting you. He convinced himself that every decision he made had been for your own good. But no—it had never been about you, had it? It was his selfishness, his arrogance, his fear of losing you in ways he couldn’t control. He had let his love consume him, twist into something unrecognizable. And now, all of it—the pain, the regret, the love he had tried to push away—came rushing back with a force so intense it made him want to tear himself apart.

His nails dug into his palms. He had been ready to die. When he found out you were gone, that you had left this world with nothing but sorrow in your heart, he had walked to the edge of that bridge with every intention of following you. He hadn’t even seen you, hadn’t held your lifeless body, hadn’t been there to say goodbye. Just a hollow message, a whisper of finality.

Gone.

It didn’t seem real. He thought if he ended it right there, he could find you. Maybe in another life, maybe somewhere beyond this hell he created.

He had stood on that bridge, gun in hand, the barrel pressing against his temple as the wind howled around him. His heart was hollow, his mind filled with nothing but you—your scent, your voice, your smile, all the things he had taken for granted.

He couldn't exist in a world where you didn't. It was that simple.

But then, as his finger began to tighten around the trigger, a voice cut through the storm inside his head.

“That won’t bring her back.”

Gojo's breath hitched, his grip on the gun faltering as he turned his head slightly. The man stood there, calm, composed, unaffected by the sheer devastation radiating from him.

“What the hell do you know?” Gojo growled, his voice rough, unhinged.

The man stepped closer, gaze unwavering. “I know you don’t want to die. You want her back. And I can give you that chance.”

Gojo’s hands shook. He wanted to laugh, to scream, to tell this stranger to go to hell. But the weight of those words settled deep within him, a flicker of impossible hope threading through his grief-stricken mind.

He remembered the way he had hesitated, the way his hands had trembled as he lowered the gun. The wind had howled around him, a bitter, unforgiving force, but for the first time since hearing of your death, he had felt something else. A pull. A whisper of something he couldn’t ignore.

Now, sitting here on his couch, he exhaled sharply. He had been given a second chance. A miracle he didn’t deserve. But he wouldn’t waste it. He would find you. He would make things right. He would earn back the love he had shattered, no matter what it took. Even if he had to crawl through hell itself, he would not lose you again.

This time, he wouldn’t let you go.

You belonged to him. And he would make sure that this time, you knew it. 

He looked up at the man, his eyes still red and had a look of determination. “I will redo my fate..for her”.

“Are you sure you can?”. The man smirked, “It won’t be easy”.

“I will do everything in my power to make her mine. This time I will …not mess it up!”.

"Do you love her or do you want her?". The man teased a little more.

Gojo scoffed, shaking his head, a twisted grin pulling at his lips—but there was no amusement in it. It was something darker, something raw, something that pulsed beneath his skin like a second heartbeat. His fingers flexed, nails biting into his palm as his breath came out unsteady, ragged.

“I love her,” he murmured, voice low, almost reverent. Then he laughed, but it was hollow, almost broken. “I love her.”

His chest ached with the weight of it, with the sheer force of what he felt, with the need that had rooted itself so deep inside him it had become part of his very being.

“I love her with every fiber of my existence,” he said again, more forcefully this time, like he was daring the universe to challenge him. “She is the air I need—the only thing that keeps me breathing, the only thing that makes sense. Without her, everything is suffocating. Everything is wrong!”

His voice wavered, but his eyes burned, fever-bright, manic.

“You dare ask me if I love her?", He threw his head back and laughed, "She is the blood in my veins,” he continued, his fingers twitching like he didn’t know what to do with his hands, like he wanted to tear them through his own skin just to prove it. “She’s inside me, running through me, keeping me alive even when I don’t want to be.”

His breath hitched, his expression twisting into something wrecked.

“She’s my bones,” he whispered, pressing his palm against his chest, as if he could feel her there, carved into his ribs, woven into his very structure. “My conscience. My clarity. My fucking ruin.”

His heart was hammering against his ribs now, erratic, frantic, desperate.

“She is my heart, my soul, mine.” His voice cracked, something on the verge of a plea, a demand, an obsession that had long since consumed him. His pupils were blown wide, his pulse wild beneath his skin.

“She is everything to me. Everything!”

His breathing was uneven now, his hands shaking. He squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands like he was trying to ground himself, like he was trying to stop the storm inside him.

But he couldn’t. He never could. Because she was the storm.

And he was drowning in her.

The two men exchanged deranged smiles. One knowing what was about to happen and the other determined to right his wrongs.

Tag list: @commandertorindhepard @inlove-maze @starlightanyaaa @missybrat @lem-hhn @valleydoli @definetlythinkimanalien @luckyangelballoon @sheep-infog @gojoprincesss @kanaojacksonofc @bubera974 @ginginha @mari-ho14 @mashtura

[arc-hus]

Southampton House, Hamptons, USA - Timothy Gobold

[lenoide]

Chemtrails Over the Yacht Club Collection 18+ | Toto Wolff x reader, age gap, smut operator, clear daddy issues (this fic is inspired by Lana del Rey, duh), and yacht culture.

Summary: Toto Wolff is a name often mentioned at the Yacht Club, where you work after classes. For some reason, you have always pictured him as an old crank like the usual members, not this foxy man who arrives at the reception making your knees quiver.  The entire staff goes frenetic as he, one of the Club's most important clients, chooses to spend his spring break there without previous notice. You pray to the Gods that you don't cross lines with him since your entire livehood depends on this job, and you really want to graduate college. Author's note: This was supposed to be a one-shot but was way too long, so I split it into two chapters. I hope you enjoy them. By the way, this version of Toto has questionable morals.

< Masterlist | Next chapter >

1 - Dark but just a game

As the sun rises over the Mediterranean Sea, you find yourself running across the streets of Monaco at full speed, like a mad girl, your ponytail swaying behind you like a pendulum, sprinting as fast as you are able all the way from the bus stop to the iconic doorway stairs to Monaco's most prestigious, exclusive, and expensive Yacht Club. 

To your fucking luck, you are running late because you didn't hear the many alarms set on your phone. 

Not because you are acting lazy; these past weeks have been brutal, and your body is exhausted from work, college, and tests.

As you quickly climb the marble steps, you pray you don't slip and break your nose against them. Cleaning it will be a nightmare, and you already have many chores to do that day.

The staff access is all the way down the next street, but you only have about 2 minutes left to check in on time. Either you use this shortcut or get another notice, so you risk it!

For obvious reasons, the staff isn't supposed to use the member's and guests' main entrance; the one that leads to the glamorous and iconic lobby with the front desk and stunning bar that is featured in many Architectural Digest issues due to his architectural heritage and art deco layout, but fuck it.

You would rather get a reprimand from your boss, the Members Services & Events Department director, than a salary fine. You are already biting your nails to meet this month's end.

As soon as you reach the large double gold-framed doors, you feel the fresh air of the AC hitting your pores with a sweet scent of jasmine. 

You want to make the most discreet and casual way in, trying to blend and go unnoticed between the people there and their soft hums of conversations, but Lord! Fate hates you.

As soon as you push the doors open, you feel your keys flying out of your blue short's tiny pocket. 

You don't know who to blame the most: the designers who insist on putting those stupid, almost fake pockets on women's clothes, the massive ball of keys your manager insists you carry around at work due to the old-timey tradition of the place, or you for running relentlessly.

The sound the keys make when they hit the pristine and immaculate stone floor makes you want to die; it sounds like a torpedo hitting the ground.

All the people inside there, the ones chatting on the trendy and expensive lounge pearl white sofas, the ones getting down the swirl stairs from the terrace under that beautiful chandelier and massive skylight, the people enjoying their morning by the gold leaf bar drinking their welcoming Italian soda and the expertly crafted canapés along with the hot man standing at the front desk next to your boss turn their heads following the sound, all looking straight at you now as you stand still there in the middle of the room.

The hot man has short brown hair, dark eyes, and a well-built, athletic body that could easily be spotted from a mile away. He exudes power and sexiness, and you can't help but take him in. 

"Good morning" is all you come up to say, trying to keep your composure. Fuckity fuck!

The tall man bends his body and reaches down to pick up your rusted keys, which slid near his feet.

"Good morning, kid," he greets you as he enjoys the view of an embarrassed, sweaty, and out-of-breath you, with your hair loosened up from running under the sea breeze and wind in those tiny ass blue shorts and white polo that the Club makes you wear as a uniform, with a very amused smile on his face.

Toto's voice is smooth and captivating, sending shivers down your spine as you listen to him. Your heart races and your cheeks flush with a mix of excitement and nervousness. 

You can't believe the man in front of you is talking to you so charmingly. Most members and guests are out of touch or rude towards staff.

"Thank you, s-sir," you quickly reply, grabbing the keys with a slight tremble in your voice. 

Toto's eyes twinkle with amusement as he observes your reaction. It's clear to him that his presence takes you aback, and he finds it endearing.

"Who the fuck is this specimen of a man, Jesus Christ!" You think, your brain breaking down a bit.

"Right this way, Mr. Wolff," Chloé, your boss, stands right by him.

She is almost his height and a vision of elegance and authority. Her perfectly styled curly hair and soft, evony skin glimmer as she addresses Toto in the most polite voice, stealing his attention from you.

Before looking at you with an "I'm going to murder you," look in her sharp hazel eyes as a silent warning of the impending reprimand you are getting.

You immediately recognize the last name: Wolff. He most likely is Toto Wolff, the successful businessman who owns one of the villas at the Club and has a beautiful yacht by the dock. 

You have heard his name many times before. You know he is one of the most important clients and may be spending his spring break here. 

You had no idea he was coming; no one in the crew or staff notified you about it, which is the usual when a big name is to arrive. 

But most importantly, you had no idea he looked like that; you always pictured him as an old fart. 

Damn, he is hot!

-

As you fix your wild hair in the locker room, you notice Chloé enter, and you rush to finish tightening your ponytail. 

You observe her reflection coming your way in the tiny mirror on the metallic door of your blue locker. 

"Here we go." 

You can feel Chloé's disapproval while waiting for her words, and your mind races with fears and uncertainties.

"Girl, how often do I have to remind you about the importance of punctuality in this establishment?!" Chloé's voice is like ice seeping into your core, chilling you to the bone. 

You feel a mix of panic and frustration, knowing that you have once again fallen short of Chloé's expectations; she is your most supportive person in the entire place.

You bite your lip nervously, trying to devise a plausible explanation for your delay. For the first time, you are glad the staff area of the Club is not as luxurious as the rest of the sparkling oasis venue. 

It's a bit dark in there because there are only small windows below ground level, so it is impossible to notice how pale you are right now.

"Of all days, you had to choose today! Please stop being so reckless. There will be a time when I won't be able to stand up for you and help you out! You know I love you, girl, but Raphaël is going to give us so much shit if any of the guests or Abby mention the incident to him."  

You feel a wave of self-doubt washing you over. This familiar sensation crept up whenever you faced Chloe's harsh criticisms; she's the best but a challenging and demanding boss.

She is at the top of the game, and Chloé works hard to maintain the Club's reputation and the best guest service in town. 

"I-I'm sorry, Chloé," your voice stutters as you try to form an apology, your words coming out in a quiet, shaky breath.

You are still in a whirlwind of emotions. You did your best to keep a professional demeanor in front of Toto's presence and the rest of the guests. 

But the entire incident was overwhelming, plus his aura looked like he commanded respect from people.

"At least, Mr. Wolff, laugh it off." Chloé gives you a soft and reassuring rub on the arm. "I had never seen you reach that level of redness, not even when you slipped on the deck of Ms. Basset's yacht with her birthday cake while we sang her happy birthday," Chloé starts laughing at the memory.

"Here is his clown to entertain him," you get slightly embarrassed now and joke back, but you wish.

"Talking of which," Chloé switches tones back to a boss again.

"What?" you feel your heart going wild again.

You struggle to contain your emotions as she delivers you the news with a funny expression. 

You can't believe you have been assigned to Mr. Wolff's crew, YOU, to overlook and take care of his stay.

The mere thought of being in close proximity to him sends a flurry of butterflies dancing in your stomach as excitement at the prospect of working closely with Toto until you remember who you are. Then, apprehension fills you with the challenges that lay ahead.

"WHAT?!" you let out aloud.

"Yeah, I know, we know, we all wonder if Mr. Holst is pulling some survival experiment or wants to watch you do you and surprise us with one of your biggest hits, like the one you did today. Seriously, how do these things keep happening to you?! Child, I wonder." Chloé lets out with amusement.

"OH LORD,"

-

The Yacht Club's poolside bar glistens in the sun's warm embrace. A golden hue covers the luxurious setting and trendy chairs cradle members who lounge in pricey fashion wear and fancy swimsuits. 

Laughs and chats overlap the sound of the waves against the shore. The entire pool area has the most beautiful view of Monaco's sea. 

Spring is warm enough, and the freshwater of the ocean twinkles and sparks reflections, looking perfect for diving in or jet skiing.

The long pier there is closed right now as the Waterfront crew sets up all the equipment and performs safety checks before starting their water-based activities schedule for guests.

So, most members enjoy the state-of-the-art giant pool: swimming, sunbathing, drinking cocktails, or reading from their Kindles at the moment, making the bar busier.

Today, you are helping the mixologist and bartenders at the pool and terrace bar by restocking ingredients and tracking orders on the KDS. 

Jesus, these people have crazy and quirky demands for their beverages and food! 

Your feet start hurting from running from one location to another, to the kitchen and warehouse, and up and down the staff's outdoor stairs.

But all pain is gone as you watch Toto approach the bar, wearing an unbuttoned white linen t-shirt and yellow swimming short trunks. His chest and legs look damn good under the sun.

Toto's eyes linger on you as a flashback of a phone call he had with Mr. Holst, the Club Manager and owner, his long-time friend, comes to his mind.

"Miss Y/LN?" Toto says as he reads the list of staff names sent to his email for him to review before arriving at the Club.

"Oh, yes, that one you don't recognize, yeah, that's Y/N," Mr. Holst lets out a long sigh on the other end of the phone. 

He doesn't sound excited at the mention of your name. 

"She's the young college student who works for us, tirelessly, I must admit, to support her education. That's the only reason why I keep giving her chances."

"Put her on board my crew, then," Toto says while signing a cheque at his office, briefly holding his iPhone with his ear.

"Toto, I must warn you, she is inexperienced and really clumsy. I advise choosing someone else." the boss says.

"Add her, please," Toto commands what he pleases. He knows he can tip you well to help you with the bills.

"Okay, you are going to make me say I told you so," Mr. Holst jokes. "I love you here, my friend, but why the sudden rush to arrive? Shouldn't you be on cloud nine in Milano? You are giving us no time."

A small, sarcastic sigh escapes Toto's lips. "See you soon, my friend," his deep voice ends the call; there is no further explanation.

Your pulse quickens as you stand before Toto. You can smell his delicious cologne, mixed with the scent of saltwater and hints of citrus from the cocktails having served.

"It's a pleasure to see you again," he greets you; his words carry a subtle warmth. "I want a Daiquiri; take it to the in-pool chaise area. I will be there," he orders. "Oh, and I hope you don't throw some keys in it," he winks at you. 

"You dislike rusty flavors, noticed, sir," you joke back, seizing the moment; a small smile forms on his lips, and you feel like you won a prize.

-

Oh, the view that greets you minutes later as you go to deliver him his drink is just too much for your poor heart.

Toto is sprawled on one of the pool's chaises, sunlight dancing on his skin. His fit body is covered in a sheen of sweat from the heat, his muscular physique in full glory for your eyes to enjoy, looking impossibly hot. 

Under his sunglasses, he notices how your gaze goes all over him, his body getting you all distracted before he grabs his drink. "It's a good thing you didn't throw it all over me," he says, confusing you. "Watch your step." 

He points with his head to your feet. You are standing at the very edge of the pool. One millimeter more, and you could have taken a good swim with him, embarrassing yourself as usual.

"Oh God," in that moment, you want to drown in the pool. "Sorry, I'm not, I..."

"Don't mind, you can leave," he says, and that's all. 

There's no more Toto for you that day.

Is he always this cold?

-

You arrive home exhausted after today's work. The bar's closing always takes time, and it's late at night when you enter your aunt's apartment, where you two live. 

She has already left for work. 

She is a nurse and usually works the night shift, so you two see each other only occasionally, even if you share the same roof, just on weekends.

During the bus ride home, you made peace with the fact that you were going to bed with an empty stomach.

She left you a sticky yellow note on the fridge, letting you know she left food for you. God bless her heart! You felt too tired to cook. 

As you microwave your dinner, Léo texts you. 

Apparently, a kid threw up at the restaurant, and his father caused a big scene by calling the Chef and making him bring out the employee who cooked his son's meal to address him.

"You tried to poison my son! He screamed at me with a thick Australian accent. Can you believe the nerve?!"

Léo is 30 years old and works as a cook in the Yacht Club kitchen under a highly demanding Chef. He is as low-salary as you and middle class, too. 

Because of that and many more things you share in common, you two were able to bond and become great friends. 

Your aunt has always tried to play cupid with you two. She likes him and, well, you too, sort of. 

He is a good person and good-looking, and according to everyone, he is also into you.

You would let him win your heart if he wasn't determined to move countries and leave as soon as he finishes studying his cuisine master's.

There is nothing that frightens you more in this world than the fear of someone leaving you because your parents did that to you. 

Well, your dad was never present anyway. 

And your mom was an irresponsible and immature mess with you. She even called you an "oopsie baby" to your face once while being exasperated with you, but it was the truth anyway. 

She always blamed you for your father leaving and for stealing her youth, all that before she got sober and cleaned her act. 

Now, she is the world's greatest mom to her kids, your stepbrothers. You don't see her much, and she still doesn't care much about you. Still, she calls you on your birthday and sends you money every once in a while.

God, you hate people who abandon and hurt.

So that's why you fear a relationship with Léo. 

Paris is a goddamn expensive and challenging city to live and navigate, more so with a low income, so following him along is not within your reach.

But you really yearn for affection, a body to hold, for someone to touch you and make you feel special.

A boyfriend would be great.

-

As you lay in your bed, in the darkness, inside your small room, frustrated about not being able to fall asleep, you can't win the dirty thoughts running wild in your head as the night's warmth enters through the open window.

The light fabric curtains sway in the wind as the warm breeze caresses your thighs, and you succumb to the temptation you have been trying to resist for more than 20 minutes. 

You spread your legs wider, feeling the soft cotton of your pajama bottoms rub against your sensitive spot. You start to slide a hand between your legs, with a finger teasing the skin under your panties, getting aroused. 

You close your eyes and begin caressing your folds and picturing Toto's broad, sweaty, naked body approaching you at the bed.

You could almost hear his deep voice whispering, "You're so beautiful." His aftershave fills your nostrils as he leans in for a kiss. 

His big hands gently part your legs, revealing your bare, moist pussy to him before placing himself on top of you in one of the villa's bedrooms.

You fantasize about being buried under his weight, lost in the sensation of Toto's fingers teasing and exploring your insides. 

His soft, dirty whispers in your ear make you shiver, and you find yourself arching into his touch.

Back in real life, the sound of your shallow breaths fills the room as you dare to push an entire finger inside you all the way in while a soft moan escapes your lips as the scene in your head continues:

"Do you like that? Do you like me inside?" Toto asks, his voice low and husky. 

"Yes, sir," you breathe, your hips bucking against his hand, willing and trembling. 

As your finger moves faster, causing soaked sounds, your mind pictures Toto's intense gaze fixed on you; the thought of submitting to him, of being his completely, makes you quiver.

You feel the heat and wetness of your core and slide a second finger into you, eager for more. 

The soft fabric of your bedsheets rubs your skin with the movement you produce on the mattress as you go all for it, reminding you of Toto's rough yet gentle grip. 

"Tell me what you want," he says, working his hand faster between your legs, making you splash some drops of your wetness.

"I want you inside me," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper hidden below a moan. 

You are all pink in the cheeks and sweaty, and a need to pee sensation starts building in you. 

"And what do you think I should do about that?" he asks with a wicked grin.

"Please fuck me, sir; I need you inside me," you beg.

You close your eyes, lost in the dream, feeling as if he was entering you balls deep as you thrust your fingers as deep inside you as you can take them. 

Your moans hitch as you start pulling them in and out of you as you picture Toto's hip movements till you reach climax, your body shuddering with pleasure, whetting your sheets all over.

The warmth spreads through your core and leaves you content and relaxed. You bite your lip, and you are now feeling embarrassed to face Toto tomorrow morning after this.  

You clean yourself up and change your sheets, then fall asleep like a baby. Your best night of sleep in a long time.

-

OH, YEAH, SPRING BREAK IS OFFICIALLY HERE!

Which means no more classes, no more university, and no more annoying classmates. However, still lots of work to do at the Club.

-

You are all happy and peacefully cooking your breakfast with a lot of the extra time you have now on your hands.

Yesterday, Chloé authorized you to switch to the morning shift since college is on break. 

She left you many tasks for the day in the digital agenda the Club gave you, which you are now reading as you enjoy your avocado toast.

You have to look extra lovely and put together this week because you will spend three entire days alongside Toto in the middle of the ocean since he got invited to Mr. Holst's extremely exclusive getaway at his gigantic and modern yacht that could easily fit a nation in there, along with other five old farts.

-

Two days later, you are getting ready to join the crew on board to help with everything Mr. Wolff needs and what the harbor crew, the dock master, the Chef, and the sailing master ask you to do.

It also means you must wear the sailing slut-ish uniforms, keep them pristine, look on point all the time, and avoid embarrassing yourself.

After brushing your teeth and doing your hair and makeup, you check yourself in your bedroom's oversized, full-length mirror, fixing every detail on your sailing uniform.

This one attracts much attention from people on the streets as you travel on the bus to work. Guys always send you dirty looks or discreetly stare you down. 

Everyone finds it sexy, but not the Yacht's Controller, who always makes fun of it; he and his entire team nickname it "The Slut Navy Uniform."

It's a tight white long-sleeve button shirt with golden handcuffs and a v-neck cleavage, along with a French blue loosen kipper short tie and six golden buttons in the waist area to make it look smaller, with the Club's patched logo on the upper left side, and pair with a too short white knife pleated skirt that you always have to work around to avoid flashing the guests.

And to whose surprise, honestly?! Mr. Holst is quite sexist and still thinks his female staff must look pleasing to men's eyes.

You have a conflicted sentiment for him; sometimes, he is the nicest boss on earth, but he spans from that to a neurotic asshole.

He has a sweet, healthy, young-looking face for his age. Being a billionaire, having a plastic surgeon on call, and being chubby sure helps him with that, but he was definitely once good-looking.

His wife is way too hot for him, tho, and his three sons and heirs are also stunning but extremely posh, a bit deadpan, and out of touch. 

They aren't that reachable, but you have a good relationship with them all. 

You got hired to work there because your aunt was the nurse who helped him take care of his elderly mom for the last decade of her life.

-

The sun rises over the crystal-clear waters, reflecting on the luxurious yachts docked in the harbor as you walk along the pier, admiring the beautiful vessels.

"Here it comes, the Slut Navy!" the dockmaster yells at you from afar, greeting you and the other girls while joking around as there are no guests near.

He is a pretty quirky character, and you do a little dance in response, extending your arms and rocking your hips while reaching the edge of the pier, where he offers you a hand to board the yacht, along with the four other female coworkers.

You step onto the dock, feeling the cool wood beneath your feet, and take a deep breath to steady your nerves.

"Please don't break my ship," he jokes with you, double-checking on his list that you are part of today's crew. You are his favorite. That's why he is always teasing you.

"Girls, we have lots to prepare before guests arrive. I need you to split into teams. Let's go, people!" he stops fooling around and goes full business mode as he checks his Rolex Daytona.

-

On time as ever, the guests board the ship while you pour the cold iced tea into the glasses and help the Chef label which plate belongs to whom since one of the guests is allergic to cheese.

"SHIT!" you let out loud in the staff's kitchen, watching the clock on the wall. You were supposed to welcome Toto on the deck about 10 minutes ago. "Gotta go, guys." 

You rush to place the last sticky notes with names frantically before exiting and climbing the metallic stairs to ground level fast to look for him.

You find Toto standing at the railing, his eyes scanning the water. You can't help but admire his tall, muscular frame and the way the sunlight glints off his hair.

There he is, the man you've been secretly fantasizing about, just a few feet away. With a sudden burst of courage, you clear your throat. 

Toto turns towards you, his piercing eyes locking onto yours. You feel your cheeks heating up as you get closer. 

He raises an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Ah, there you are, kid. I thought you had fallen overboard already since there was no one to welcome me," he replies, his voice deep and resonant.

"That's why you were looking at the water, right?" You try to beat with humor the slight reprimand you got. "What can I offer you, sir?" you quickly ask. 

The yacht rocks gently under your feet, waves lapping against the hull as he gently brushes a strand of hair from your face. His touch sends shivers down your spine. "There, better," he says. 

Your hair got a bit messed up from working like crazy. Seconds later, Mr. Holst reaches you two, which explains Toto's move.

Mr. Holst checks you out, expecting you to look perfect, as Ava, his stunning assistant and assigned crew lass, moves to stand beside you.

She is everything you want to achieve at work and excels at her job. Although Ava acts cold and diva to you and the other girls, feeling above you all.

"Hi," you greet the breathtaking young, fit woman, low and quickly, discreetly waving your hand at her. 

She looks at you with the corner of her eyes. Her piercing blue eyes stay on you for a few seconds. Ava remains quiet and then moves her gaze back to the boss.

You wonder if the rumors of Mr. Holst and her are true; wait, that's misogynistic of you. 

Well, you will keep trying to make friends with her. She has no friends here, and you don't like that. You can't cope with abandonment.

"Good morning, my friend. It's good to see you," Mr. Holst greets Toto warmly and squeezes his arm fondly. "We have some catching up to do," he notices Toto isn't holding a glass in his hand yet and addresses you. "Go bring him his beverage."

You were standing there like an idiot, staring at Toto shyly. "Oh, yes, sir, immediately."

"That wasn't necessary," Toto bumps Holst.

"I know, but she didn't get hired to act like a lampost," They both laugh.

"Is Y/N always that nervous and shy? Not the best traits working in hospitality, I must say." Toto asks.

"Really?! No, gosh, I wish she was. I would like her to contain herself more." Holst chuckles as some of your incidents come to his mind. "You want me to have a word with her?"

"No, no," Toto says. 

Then, he is the one making you act like that?

-

The yacht's interior is even more luxurious than the outside, with plush carpets, gleaming marble surfaces, and intricate woodwork adorning every inch of space. 

You wander through the spacious halls, attending to Toto's requests and admiring the paintings and sculptures lining the walls. 

At the same time, you navigate the ship as you bring him the rye bread he requested to the long outdoor table on the bridge deck, where the brunch takes place. You face the mesmerizing view of Monaco's coastline as you step outside.

You place the plate in front of him and step back to your position behind him, at arm's reach, in case he needs something else.

You can't help but overhear the conversation and pay attention to his words.

"So, how is Irina? And your mom?" Mr. Holst addresses him, sitting at the head of the table and turning in Toto's way.

"Fine" is all Toto answers, deminors changing.

"Oh, okay, please, you don't say more," Mr. Holst jokes at Toto's lack of words; the Austrian chuckles.

The Chef then asks you by the open-ear bud headphones to bring out the sliced fruit dishes.

As all the staff heads back to the kitchen, Toto's eyes are drawn towards the action while the rest of the table doesn't bother paying attention.

When you are about to cross the massive slide door, a strong breeze comes your way. Toto gets to enjoy the view of your legs and ass on display as the wind pulls you a trick and raises your short skirt for a brief second before you rush to move your arm and hand to fix it.

He finds you so fascinating. The two of you couldn't be more opposite. 

"Those are some cute lacey panties," he thinks.

-

As the day goes by without significant incidents, you start to feel more and more confident around Toto. 

You stare at him for a while, driving the jet ski fast and wild on the waters, breaking waves and revolving, with a firm grip on the steering control and his delicious biceps flexing. 

You are glad he has the life jacket on; otherwise, you be drooling. Then, the sailing master distracts you from him as he asks the guests to return on board. 

The yacht will cruise to deeper waters so Mr. Holst can free dive.

You wait for Toto's arrival, holding the soft, high-quality towel while enjoying the view of a wet him up close as he climbs, dripping, on the swim platform. 

He playfully sprinkles you with some drops with his hand as you come close to remove his life jacket.

"Hey!" you complain, smiling at him being an ass.

"Just a small taste of the fresh waters. I saw you looking over a lot, and I supposed you wanted to join me in the fun," he explains as he dries his hair with the towel, messing it up. "How do I look?" he jokes around. His wet hair is all up and wild, going in every direction.

You laugh and smile at the sight, "Like lighting is about to strike us." 

He then combs his hair with his hand in a handsome man's move and drops the now-wet and heavy towel on your extended forearms. "I will be on the sun deck," he informs you and moves along.

-

Everything is going so well.

Toto sunbathes for a while and only asks you for one drink the entire time before he leaves to nap in his cabin. 

So you move on to your other tasks as he isn't around but still keeping an eye on his call bell.

-

All until later, when you hear commotion on the main deck. 

As you enter the living room area, you see Mr. Elrod, looking all red and swollen, sitting on one of the curved sofas as the aid crew offers him an EpiPen.

"Oh, no, no!" escapes your lips, watching the scene from afar as you feel the Chef and Mr. Holst's eyes set on you standing next to each other.

You sense Toto passing you around and standing by your side, observing the scene two steps behind you. The commotion woke him up.

Mr. Holst points you with his finger to the left, which means, "See you at my office now!"

Toto watches you release a loud sigh before moving your feet.

-

He waits for you outside the double wood doors of the office, sitting in the empty chair beside them, hearing the muffled screams from inside. 

After a while, it quietens, and you finally emerge from inside, distressed and fast, trying to hold back tears. 

You don't notice Toto.

You start heading to an empty place where you can cry in peace while avoiding being seen by guests. 

Toto follows you all the way to the flying bridge, keeping a reasonable distance from you and trying to be discreet.

It's dark already, and the air feels chilly up there as the night fully sets. 

He hears you weeping near the railing as you feel a jacket being placed on you. 

"It's cold," Toto's deep voice says, making you jump. 

You immediately wipe your tears, fix yourself, and turn to face him. 

"I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't notice you were here. I apologize." 

God! Why did he have to be there and see you like this? You wanted to avoid getting into more trouble!

He notices your overly apologizing trait and feels slightly sorry for you. "I followed you here."

Your stupid mind takes another angle. "I'm so sorry if I didn't hear you calling me; how can I help you?"

He stares at you. "I meant it as I saw the entire thing with Mr. Elrod and then with Holst and followed you here from his office. He loses patience quickly but is a good-hearted man." 

You nod, now getting it. 

"Did you poison the allergic guy?" he asks, a small smile forming on his lips at the situation's absurdity as he listens to himself.

"Yes. I messed up the plate's labels all for being in a rush." You aren't in the mood to light things up with humor as you hold back tears again. "It won't happen again." Toto notices it; you gulp and look directly at him. "You don't have to worry about it, sir. I will pay extra care with your food and beverages."

"You think I'm here because I'm worried you'll get me poisoned?" his voice is serious. 

You glance at him, confused and surprised. 

What's going on?!

"Just talk to me. What's the reason for the tears?" Toto wipes the tear running down your cheek. "Without the sir bit, please, just Toto."

"Understood, si-r-Toto," you quickly answer. "Well, I-yeah, I feel like I'm not good at anything! I always screw things up. It doesn't matter how hard I try! It keeps happening to me, and they had enough of it."

"Did Holst threaten to fire you? I can always talk to him," he offers you, concerned.

"No, I'm getting a fine, a big one. I can barely afford it, but I can't lose this job either."

"And you told Holst that? That you needed the money? I don't know, maybe he could give you additional chores, or you could stay free for extra hours?"

"Yes, I tried, but he knows that's the one punishment that would make me not dare to commit the same mistake again. It's a bit cruel, but I'm used to it, I guess," you explain to him before you literally have a breakdown in front of him, much to Toto's surprise.

He holds you in his arms, trying to calm you down while a more violent and cold current hits both of your bodies. 

You feel his thumb rubbing your back as you bury yourself in his warmness. His tender touch relaxes you so much that you start falling asleep, feeling exhausted. 

He then notices you struggling to keep your eyes open and to remain on your feet as you lean more into him. 

He lifts you from the ground with a firm grip and carries you around as you fall asleep on him. 

He takes you downstairs through the empty hallways to his cabin, not knowing where yours is or how to get there, and softly places you in his bed.

He pulls your skirt in place, respecting you, even if he likes the idea of spooning you and feeling the lace of your cheeky panties with his fingers as his eyes go down your sound-asleep figure.

Toto hasn't fucked anyone in over five weeks, and the urge to do so starts building inside him. 

But it's not proper to get involved with you.

-

The following day, he wakes up as the sun sneaks through the massive glass window of his bedroom, heating Toto's face; he then stretches and yawns before turning your way.

But you are already gone. 

It's about 8 a.m., meaning breakfast is about to occur. Toto gets on his feet, feeling hungry already due to his CEO routine, usually waking up between 4:45 and 5:00 a.m. and eating breakfast early. But he has to remind himself he is on a break.

-

He spots you as soon as he arrives at the bridge deck.

You are wearing a uniform similar to yesterday's. A white button t-shirt with a v-neck, this time no tie, but today's blue A-line plated panel mini skirt with four golden buttons seemed in it looks so tight on your ass, which is anything but good for Toto's horniness as he feels the urge to pin you against the hallway wall and rub your asscheeks against his groin.

He notices the nervous energy among the staff members, hurrying to attend to his and the other guests' every need as they start to breakfast.

Your eyes dart at him in awe and fear after last night's events as you give out the glass bottles of sparkling water to everyone at the table.

Toto chuckles to himself, aware of the power he wields on you simply by his presence. 

He looks at you with a cheeky grin and, on purpose, drops his fork.

The sound it makes when hitting the floor causes Mr. Holst to turn Toto's way and joke out loud. "It's alive! The fruit is alive!" he messes around.

"Y/N," Toto calls your name, a smirk already on his lips. "Would you mind picking it up for me?" he requests you in the sweetest tone in front of everyone.

"You little shit," you think, but you say, "Sure, sir," and struggle to get down to the floor in that fucking tight as hell mini skirt, trying to bend without your pussy greeting everyone. 

He enjoys watching you try and struggle all the way down and is pretty surprised when you achieve it without revealing yourself.

"Let me get you a new one, SIR," you emphasize the last word while looking at him with murderous eyes as he laughs under his breath.

Once you are back and have handed him his new fork so he can resume enjoying his fruit, Toto grabs a strawberry with it and gets it in his mouth. 

As soon as the fork makes contact with his lips, Toto feels them burning violently.

He turns your way, eyes wide open, and since you are just two steps behind him, you come closer to mutter near his ear, "Oopsie, I must have dropped it in the wasabi sauce."

-

After a long chat with the other guests about business, Toto excuses himself to get a shower. 

He dismisses you and gifts you some free time before they dock in Eze Village. 

He asks you to go get him in his room when they arrive.

-

Toto steps into the steaming water, letting it cascade over his muscular body. He closes his eyes, trying to clear his mind of the sudden life crisis that brought him here. 

As he soaps up his body, he can't help but reach between his legs and begin to stroke his growing erection. 

He could be fucking anyone instead of jerking himself off in the shower. After all, he is a handsome billionaire who can afford life's finest things but is stranded here with few options.

A slight smirk forms at the corner of his mouth as he thinks you would probably be more than happy to join and help him with this as he runs his hands over his well-defined abs and chest. 

He pulls all of his strength not to call you in.

Instead, he focuses on pulling himself harder, faster, and more intensely as he gets lost in the moment. 

"Ahh" he moans, arching his back as he feels the familiar tightening in his groin. His cock is as hard and curved as possible and bounces slightly with each move.

After minutes of going at it, he hears the soft and muffled knocks on the door. 

It must be you, as he instructed you, obedient girl! He would reward you for good behavior if you were in there with him.

He rushes to pleasure himself, or otherwise, if he stops and steps out, after opening that door, he is going to fuck you right against it, not being able to contain himself.

His grip tightens on his shaft. He can feel the familiar tightness building in his balls, warning him of his impending release. 

As he approaches his climax, he lets out a long, intense groan, his fingers founding the way on his throbbing cock. 

With a deep breath, he allows himself to cum, feeling the warmth spreading through his body.

As his last drops of cum splash against the glass, Toto then opens his eyes, catching his breath, feeling refreshed and invigorated.

He cleans himself before quickly stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist while he hears you knocking again.

He opens the door for you, still undressed, wet hair dripping on his bare chest. 

You can't help but look surprised and get a notorious blush, trying to stop your eyes from going all over him. 

"I'll be there in a minute, kid," he says, letting you peek at him before closing the door to your face.

Is this man sending you mixed signals, or are you going crazy?!

-

Much to his surprise, you remain on board the yacht doing other chores instead of joining him at Eze Village. 

Ava stays in charge of Toto and Mr. Holst as they tour the small village; their first stop is the cigar store.

As they exit the shop after spending a couple of hundred, Toto notices the nearby street where many men wander around, going up or down a broad stone stair to a redwood door. 

At 2:00 p.m., that place looks already buzzing, bright daylight still on the streets.

"That strip club is unbelievable," Holst whispers near his ear, noticing Toto's eyes wandering there. "It's pretty hidden and offers lots of privacy. That's why it's so popular amongst the elites, plus the girls in there, woaf." Holst throws a kiss in the air. "We should stop by after lunch, you know, as our dessert." Holst bumps him, and Toto nods, agreeing. 

He very much needs it.

-

Everyone is back in the yacht at the time set. The night starry sky looks beautiful on board, and the waters are calm, but the crew isn't.

The guests look bored and a bit pissed off of waiting for Wolff and Holst; they are nowhere to be seen.

"Should we go look for them?" you ask, concerned for his wellbeing, you mean, their wellbeing.

"No one else gets off here," the sailing master declares after sending two male crew members after establishing contact with Ava; after four tries, she finally picks up the signal.

"We are on our way back," she updates him on the radio, sounding exasperated and a bit emotional. "Also, send Hob to receive us at the platform, but make it tactful."

Everyone in the crew looks at each other with a "Did something happen?" expression as they are all gathered around the radio in the small lobby of the crew's cabins.

"Walk," Hob tells you as he passes you by. Moving fast, you follow him without questioning much. 

As you two reach the platform, you see Arvin and Hob teaming up to carry a totally hammered and passed-out Mr. Holst to get him to his suite.

And Carlo helping out a drunk but still awake Toto to walk him to his room, the Austrian hanging from his shoulder to help his balance. 

Carlo signals you with his hand to move your ass to Toto's cabin.

"Pour him a tall glass of water," he asks you as he lowers Toto on his bed. "Stay in here if he needs something else or throws up."

"Puff, I'm fine!" Toto says, making fun of the large man as he tries to remove his shoes but fails completely. 

Carlo exits the room and closes the door behind him, leaving you two alone.

"Do you need help with those?" you offer Toto, a bit amused. He looks way less intimidating when drunk.

He shakes his head way too much. Finally, he gets them out with much force, and one bounces around the carpet floor.

Then he attempts to unbutton his shirt. You watch him struggle with that until he gets exasperated, unable to coordinate his hand movements, and wants to sleep now.

"Would you mind?!" he looks pissed off at you as if it was a duty you were supposed to do.

You don't take it wrong and gladly reach out to help him get undressed. 

Toto is sitting at the end of the bed. You stand between his slightly open legs, placing yourself between his knee. As you undo his shirt, he looks up at you, looking straight at your eyes, chin up.

Jesus! That smell! Why he smells like whore? 

Which turns out to be a good thing; otherwise, you would have to resist the urge to throw yourself at him.

As you unbutton the remaining two lower ones, he says, "I picked the one who looked like you," and you have no idea what he is referring to.

He manages to take his pants off; good thing! You would have lost it! And then Toto drops himself face down on the mattress, quickly falling asleep in his trousers.

You place a pillow under his head and involuntarily comb his hair with your hand.

-

He wakes up to the vision of you sleeping all curled up in the armchair you dragged near his bed; a weird feeling washes him over before he rushes to pee.

Once back, he falls asleep again, and no human force will wake him up.

-

After tidying up the room and grabbing Toto's clothes from the floor to the laundry, you leave a hungover kit and a new glass of water on his bedside table before leaving.

Your list of things to do today is nuts.

- 

That same morning, the Chef sends you to get more flour sacks. 

When you open the big, heavy, metallic pantry door, you unexpectedly find Ava crying inside there under the bright light bulb.

"Oh, sorry," you quickly add. Ava immediately turns around and pretends she's looking for something, reading the labels on the cans before her.

You know a crying girl spot when you see it; unfortunately, you have used almost all of them.

"Are you okay?" you ask her, concerned.

"Yes, it's all good. I was looking for this!" Ava answers in her usual tone, picking up a random can.

"The anchovies got you emotional? Got it! I also got emotional in here once for a jar of mayo, and also when choosing which broom to use in the broom closet, and while folding napkins in the linen closet. I get it, girl." You confess to her all the places where you have cried in the yacht due to circumstances.

You make her smile a bit. "No, but seriously, are you okay?!" You ask and try again, sensing she opens up a bit.

Much to your surprise, she starts telling you: "I can't believe he did this to us!" in between cries. "This was supposed to be our gateway trip, not this!"

She sounds hurt. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure about what or who. Still, fuck them for hurting you!" you reassure her, trying to be empathic and supportive while also trying to figure it out.

"He and Wolff spent the entire afternoon inside that fucking strip club! Getting God knows what! I wasn't able to go inside; that stupid no women-allowed policy, you know, fuck them! And that fucking security guy even threw me out of the street, he made me leave, and I had to wait for them FOR HOURS!" now her sadness was starting to become anger. 

"God! I looked like an idiot sitting for hours in that cafe at the corner, forced to ask for food or drinks every once in a while until I saw them pass by through the windows, looking like a mess, barely able to walk and holding rolls of euros in their hands! That's when I sent the signal!"

WAIT A MINUTE! Toto went to the strip club?! You feel a sting of pain and jealousy. Oh, that was the smell! You feel pissed off, with no right howsoever. 

WAIT. Ava is referring to Mr. Holst?! Fuck!

-

Toto looks very comfy in one of the bulky sofas in the living room. This time, he is enjoying the inside of the yacht, staying away from the sun like a vampire, with his sunglasses on and a stern expression; his head must hurt.

You notice Toto's nasty hickeys on his neck in broad daylight as you approach to check on him, the ones that make your stomach revolve in jealousy as if you had the right to feel mad at him.

"I heard there are good natural remedies for hickeys. Maybe we have the ingredients on board. Would you like me to bring you one, sir?" you can't contain yourself.

He pays attention to your every expression. "Just Toto, remember? When it's just the two of us. And, yes, bring it." 

You return with a peppermint oil mini jar on your hands. Toto stays there staring at you without reaching his hand. 

What is he expecting?! For you to rub it on his neck?!" Yeah, you're mad. 

Finally, he grabs it.

"Let me know if you need something else for other regions," he detects your displeased undertones. 

"That's all. I don't need anything else for any other areas. Nothing happened in any other area," Toto hints to you.

"Understood, sir" you willinly ignore him, still giving him shit.

"Kid, are you allowed to go to Holst suite? Tell him if he will face me at the pool table or if he chickens out." Toto stands up and reaches you closer, his chest a centimeter away. Then he pats your head. "Be a nice pet, little one."

You stare, thirsting at his lips. Also, you want to strangle him! Also, he wants to strangle you, but in a different way.

-

As you are about to knock on Mr. Holst's suite's massive entrance door, you hear Ava's muffled, intense moans coming from inside while she groans to him to give her his dick harder.

Yeah... maybe later.

Damn, he must be fucking the "please, forgive me" out of her! Why is Toto not doing the same?!

You laugh at the thought.

-

"Mr. Holst isn't available right now," you inform him upon your return.

"Chicken!" Toto says, pouting.

More like "Cheater," you think. That guy has a wife and kids.

-

Toto ends up playing pool with two of the other male guests at the man cave, nicknamed "The Captain's Delight." 

The room has rich, dark wood paneling and sleek silver accents. It smells of fine leather and cigars. At the center of the place sits a gorgeous pool table crafted from the finest materials, with an emerald green top and balls made from solid, gleaming ivory.

You call the bartender in and start helping him serve the drinks for Toto, Stellan, and Bram.

Stellan's eyes gleam with confidence and arrogance as he sips his drink and makes a ball hit the pocket with a loud crash.

Toto is a bit of a show-off, always trying to prove himself as the best player. 

And Bram isn't much into the game as he can't help but steal glances at you, his eyes lingering on your curves every time he chalks up his cue, acting anything but discreet.

The bidding starts slow, but the stakes grow higher as the game heats up. The men raise their bets, and their voices grow louder and more aggressive as they argue over who made the best shot. 

Bram eyes get bloodshot from too much drinking, and his speech gets slurred as the game progresses. Their competitive spirits fueling the intensity of the round.

Bram's eyes continue to go all over you, from your legs to your ass, where he keeps staring for more than you like and at your breasts every time he addresses you.

On any occasion you pass by near him, you hear him throw a dirty innuendo whisper really low, only for you to listen to it, which makes your skin crawl.

When he misses a hit, he gets angry and throws a fit.

As he remains out of the game, he asks you for a refill of his drink. As soon as you are back, he pulls you by the waist to sit you right next to him, forcing his hand behind you, making you feel really uneasy.

Toto notices it and quickly approaches you, sitting right by your side, with no inch of space between you, causing the other man to slide away casually.

Bram returns to the game as they start a new final round; another "all-in" bid is placed. 

Stellan takes the price, being the best player of the night, much to the dislike of his peers.

Everyone calls it a night. But you stay in, tidying everything up and helping the bartender clean the bar. 

He wishes you a good night, and you turn off the lights and exit the room minutes later. It's almost 3 a.m.

As you leave the man cave into the long, empty hallway that leads to the stairs, you notice from the corners of your eyes that Bram is leaning against the wall there, waiting for you.

You quicken your pace, but Bram follows you, his eyes fixed on you. "Hey, babe," he slurs, his voice growing louder. "You're really something special."

You try to ignore him, but Bram continues, his words getting more and more aggressive. "Come on, babe. Let's get you a drink. I have Tequila Ley in my cabin and have a great idea for a game."

But you are having none of it. You keep moving. The stairs aren't that far away now, but the hallways are empty and dark, making you feel nervous, as Bram is relentless. 

As you reach the base of the stairs, he goes for your arm, feeling you are slipping away. He spins you around to face him, pushing you against the railing, which makes a loud sound. 

He places his hands on your legs and rubs them up, starting to pull your skirt up as he slides them in while you panic, not knowing how to react.

"I heard a collision sound. All good?" a deep voice booms above you.

Bram looks up to see Toto's imposing figure with an enraged face and stabbing eyes, and he immediately yanks away from you.

You take advantage of the distraction to pull free and hurry away up the stairs to Toto. He watches Bram leave, heading back in the direction you were coming.

"Are you okay?" he asks you.

You nod, looking relieved. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for intervening."

Toto nods. "I noticed him creeping on you all night long; I was waiting for you in case he tried something stupid. I should have stayed in the hallway by the door and avoided you this."

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. You had previously dealt with similar situations, but this one went too far.

"Why don't we get some fresh air? You look like you could use it." Toto suggests, and both think of the same place to go: the flying bridge.

-

"Are you really okay?" Toto asks with concern etched on his face as he notices your eyes lost in the sea. 

You are sitting at the edge of the wooden floor, shoulder to shoulder, with your legs hanging in the air and leaning on the railing as you admire the moon's glow reflecting on the waters.

Even with that beautiful landscape, you can't shake the memory of that creepy guy harassing you earlier. 

Thank goodness Toto noticed how the man leered at you, making those crude comments under his breath. 

God knows what could have happened if he hadn't stopped it before it went too far!

The incident left you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

"You know, if you want to explain to me what hap...," Toto starts saying, but his voice trails off as he looks into your eyes and sees the vulnerability. 

He knows that he should keep things professional between you, but there is something about you that he can't resist.

He places his hand on top of yours, and the warmth of Toto's hand takes you out of your trance. 

He can't help but lean in closer, your heart racing as you see him approach to rest his temple on yours. 

You lean into the touch and wrap your arms around his waist, holding him tight, making you feel safe and protected. 

Finally, you can't take it anymore and whisper: "I don't know what's happening between us, but I can't resist you anymore." you smile, your cheeks flushed, fresh tears drying. "But I want you, Toto," you confess.

He looks at you in total silence for what feels like an eternity, just looking at your eyes.

Before your lips meet in a tender, soft kiss that sends waves of electricity through your body, before you move your hands around Toto's neck, pulling yourself closer to his body as the kiss deepens. 

The kiss grows hungrily, and you keep rubbing yourself against him until he wraps you around his waist and lifts you.

He leads you to his cabin, his footsteps echoing in the quiet space. As he closes the door behind you, a wave of nervous anticipation washes over you.

He looks straight at you, his eyes searching for any sign of hesitation. You look back at him, your gaze unflinching, and he knows then that you are ready before lowering you into his bed. 

You glimpse at the bulge on his pants as he moves to place himself on top of you, parting your legs; you pull him closer once more, his lips finding yours as he undoes the buttons on your shirt, his fingertips grazing your bare skin. 

You close your eyes, savoring his gentle touch, feeling his warmth and hardness. 

He trails a line of kisses from your collarbone to your stomach, taking his time to explore every inch of you as his hands trace the curves of your body; slowly, he slides your skirt off and tosses it aside.

He leans in and places a soft kiss on your inner thighs, eliciting a gasp from you; he quickly removes his pants, not being able to contain his erection inside them anymore.

You stare at his dick shaft to the side, and it makes you get wetter with arousal.

Your breath hitches as Toto unclasps your bra, revealing your breasts and teasing your nipples with his fingertips until they harden under his touch. 

His mind is whirling with desire for the beautiful young woman you are. He returns to his position between your legs and starts rocking his hips in circles, rubbing his erection on you. 

You grab his ass and squeeze it, pulling him closer. "Toto..." you whisper, arching towards him. His tongue teases your earlobe, making you shiver. 

"Do you really want this?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Your answer comes in the form of a moan as you lean into him, your hands finding their way to his chest. "I've wanted this for days."

He then removes his trousers and, in a single move, pulls down your soaked panties before penetrating you slowly, feeling your body tense up at first but then slowly relax into him. 

Your breaths become synchronized as you both sway together. Your moans fill the cabin, echoing off the wood-paneled walls as you enjoy his length inside you. 

The feeling of being taken so roughly sends waves of ecstasy through your body. Toto runs his fingers through your hair, pulling it. 

With each thrust, you can feel yourself falling deeper in love with Toto. For him, you taste sweet and innocent, yet wild and untamed at the same time. 

He thrusts balls deep into you, taking you completely. Your bodies clasping together in a rhythm. Sweat dripping down as you desperately fuck each other. Your pussy clamps down around his cock, driving him crazy.

After a while of intense fucking, with a couple of final hits, you feel an orgasm releasing from you as you come all over his dick. He groans into your mouth, his hips bucking and his cock throbbing inside you. 

Minutes later, Toto quickly pulls out in a fast move, removes his condom, and lets his cum spill over you. 

You gasp in surprise but then moan as the warmth spreads across your sensitive skin.

He leans down and kisses you passionately, your tongues dancing together in the aftermath of intense lovemaking. You look completely satisfied. 

"That was amazing," he whispers against your lips. You nestle closer to him, your breathing still ragged. 

"No one has made me feel like this before," you murmur, tracing the head of his cock with your fingertips, caressing with your hand all over his chest, then kissing him for a while, tongues dancing, moist lips rubbing.

Then, you both get clean and return to bed, where you are about to spend the rest of the night embracing.

As you are comfortably wrapped naked in his arms while he tenderly runs his fingers on your lower back, Toto tells you: "I have been restraining myself from having you for days.

"Why?" curiosity is filling you.

"Because it seemed inappropriate, plus we couldn't be more different, starting for our ages. I could be your dad!"

"Daddy..." you sigh as you look straight into his eyes, moving your gaze away from his bare chest.

"Stop it," he lets out in a dangerously low voice.

"What? It turns you on? I wouldn't mind another round, daddy," You moan out the last word, being an ass and teasing him. "My shift starts in about 2 hours."

Suddenly, you feel his weight all over you as he, in a fast move, places on top of you, and you laugh. He starts kissing your neck and heading all the way down, biting every inch of your skin.

You release many "daddies" out as he devours your pussy and fucks you hard till the sun comes out. To be continued... < Masterlist | Next chapter >

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[masteraqua]

let's talk about radiant garden!

hello and welcome back to another installment of KH3 Retry, my chaotic thought experiment where i try to fix everything i hate about the game

i've said it before and i'll say it again: radiant garden should have been the playable hub world instead of twilight town. there are so many plot threads wrapped up in this world, so many paths that cross here, and it's a shame that kh3 never bothered to explore them in any meaningful way

instead, all of the world's depth is flattened into set dressing for tedious exposition, with all the things that made it memorable either cut entirely or moved to twilight town, a poor substitute which is itself lacking in any meaningful development

so let's talk about it! i have a veritable mountain of ideas for what radiant garden could have been like in a universe where it continued to matter after bbs

take my hand

even beyond the general lack of final fantasy in kh3, which is its own can of worms, brushing the restoration committee aside and reducing all of their hard work to an unplayable HD recreation of the bbs map is downright bleak. as much as nomura wants to, you can't just sweep legacy characters under the rug and expect me to forget about them. i'm glad they at least got to appear in re:mind, but it doesn't change the fact that their absence feels like a massive, gaping hole in reality, like the universe has written them out of existence. i'm sure sora can relate

the problem is best summed up by ienzo:

yeah. that's called regression, and it sucks.

so on that note, please disregard (almost) everything that happens in radiant garden in kh3, because we are starting from scratch babeyyyy!!!

this got really long so i broke it down into sections covering different topics

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introduction

the town, finally livable again, looks not quite like the utopia of its past, but still beautiful, with the gardens of its namesake in full bloom and the streets filled with smiling faces

the debris has been cleared away to make room for zigzagging rows of houses and apartments, all built in a mish-mash of styles, sizes, and colors—a mosaic of the lives lived outside of this world. from a distance, the vast array of colors resembles a flowerbed, vibrant and alive

baskets of multicolored flowers hang from windows and the beginnings of vines grow around corners. now that the aqueduct system has been restored, life has really begun to flourish all around

patchwork stone walls and bridges weave through the town and line the border. outside the city walls, the water levels have risen and settled, but you can still see remnants of crumbling, moss-covered architecture poking through the surface

finally: the castle, once a pristine but imposing fortress, has been repurposed as a community center. the gates and guards have been removed so that the townspeople can visit freely, and indeed the balconies and halls are usually busy. just like the rest of town, plants bloom in abundance along its facade, nurtured by the light

the library has been reopened and other public services have moved into the castle to help with day to day life. however, some areas are closed off to the public for safety reasons

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characters

we'll start with cid—a brand new helipad and gummi garage have been built into one of the castle's tallest towers, and, naturally, he's in charge! now that the restoration is complete, he can focus on his true passion: flying contraptions :) he offers special blueprints for completing gummi ship challenges (including races, maybe??). he also runs a revamped gummi shop, with assistance from chip and dale

speaking of chip and dale, they've been busy. on top of inventing the gummiphone, they've also set up an inter-world network to connect the computers in disney castle and radiant garden, among other places, so they can share data, including the data from jiminy's journals

as a result, data riku gets a cameo as the equivalent of the network's clippy

over in the castle's lab, ienzo and leon are sorting through all of ansem the wise's notes for anything that might help sora or the town. they're working together, but the alliance is...uneasy. ienzo, dilan, and aeleus were, of course, with the people who kidnapped and experimented on civilians before inviting the darkness that destroyed everything. leon only agrees to their involvement on the condition that he supervises, and he always keeps his gunblade within reach

while leon manages the lab, yuffie manages aeleus and dilan as captain of the guard—or, as she calls it, Supreme Ninja Guardian. goofy congratulates her on the promotion! the two men don't particularly enjoy reporting to a teenager, but they also don't put up a fight because yuffie is actually quite reliable despite her antics, and she knows the town like the back of her hand. mainly they deal with any stray heartless that the claymore defense sytem doesn't catch. they feel that it's the least they can do

back in town, a new and improved shopping district has opened up, which is where you'll find aerith's gardening shop! you can trade her common cooking ingredients for specialty ones that she grows herself. when she's not running the shop, she's usually tending to the flowers around town or helping with the community garden

merlin's house hasn't changed, but it has moved, as is his tendency. it's now situated in a park on the outskirts of town, away from all the hubbub. since it's no longer being used as a base of operations, all the computer junk has been excised so he can finally have some peace and quiet. he's recently come into possession of a new project, which we'll get into later

after the events of this game, when ansem the wise has returned to radiant garden, he retires to live out the remainder of his days in peace, leaving the lab in ienzo's hands. the town has moved on without him and has no need for the rulers of its past. his former apprentices, especially ienzo, visit him from time to time, and i think he'd get on well with merlin

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axel and kairi

okay so axel and kairi! remember how both of them are from radiant garden? well instead of locking the two of them in a hyperbolic time chamber while the plot stalls out, how about letting them hang out here and bond over the things they have in common?

imagine axel's history with me. lea knew kairi's grandma as the kind old lady down the road who would hand out treats to all the neighborhood kids. he and isa once played a childish prank on her and got in heaps of trouble with their parents. they had to apologize to her in front of a crowd, which convinced them to never pull a stunt like that again (instead, they pivoted toward sneakier, much more dangerous stunts)

axel is also roughly the same age as leon (based on kh1 concept art and inference) so they probably went to school together, though they hung out with different crowds. leon remembers lea as an obnoxious class clown, but axel remembers squall as a broody punk. i think they'd get along now. imagine the banter

since they're not doing any dumb keyblade training

axel takes kairi on a tour of the town and shows her where her grandmother's house was. unfortunately, the lot is now empty, having been cleared of the wreckage. as tribute, kairi picks some of the nearby flowers and lays them in the place it used to stand

her conversations with axel help to clear up some of her hazy memories, which is something she's always been a little scared to do, but now something for which she's grateful. axel's just glad that he's doing something good for once

as kairi's happy memories begin to resurface, so too do the bad ones, and eventually they lead her deep within the castle to the ark where xehanort upended her life. she finds another one of xehanort's reports here with cryptic hints about what his intentions really were—something related to what he calls "the other side" of light and darkness

this concept is vaguely familiar to ienzo as something he overheard in the castle as a child, but he doesn't know any more about it. with any luck, something will turn up in ansem's notes

and then there's subject x, the girl axel and saix befriended inside the castle as children. i'll talk more about this further down

-----

gameplay

one of the defining features of the rebuilt radiant garden is that all the new architecture allows for a variety of ways to get around. you can take the stairs and bridges, of course, but you can also glide along the aqueducts, climb over rooftops, and swing across steel beams

i have a specific vision of being able to parkour your way up and down the outside of the castle on a series of jungle gym contraptions

it should also be noted that i have nothing but disdain for kh3's wall running ability, as i feel it takes all the fun out of platforming, so go ahead and pretend that doesn't exist

in addition to the gardening shop, the new shopping district houses the item, weapon, and accessory shops (manned by, who else, donald's nephews) as well as a moogle emporium for synthesis and keyblade upgrades

i'm also moving remi and the bistro here since twilight town is getting the axe. nothing else about them or the cooking minigames is changing, because they're fun and cute and i like them as is <3 i think scrooge decided to open shop here to stimulate the town's burgeoning economy. it's his way of helping

the outdoor movie theater can come too since it's related to the classic kingdom minigames. just stick it in a corner somewhere

-----

the castle

while the castle was being renovated, leon and the others uncovered even more secret passages, because this building is a lovecraftian nightmare. this is one of the areas barred off from the general public, but leon says that sora can go check it out whenever he has time. he might even join the party? 🤔

the passages lead deep into the earth and appear to be so old that ansem the wise may not have even known they existed

i've gotta tread lightly when it comes to lore that might be overturned in the future, but basically i want this to be an optional dungeon, à la cavern of remembrance, that hints at a connection to scala ad caelum and/or daybreak town. but the specifics are undecided

maybe the dark inferno boss can be moved here?? gotta think more about that one

also related to exploring the castle, i think we should get to see the chamber of repose and the prison cells connected to it, possibly by way of the new passages. both of these things play a role in the story

the chamber represents the part of xemnas that remembers being terra, which is something i want to flesh out more in this AU, to give xemnas more of an identity than master xehanort's goon. perhaps he and anti-aqua (see here for details) have a confrontation? imagine aqua discovering her armor in xemnas's secret clubhouse, imagine how conflicted she'd feel about him being her enemy

as for the prison...

-----

subject x

the prison cells once housed a girl known only by the designation of "subject x," a girl whom team nort seems very interested in these days

when subject x vanished, apprentice xehanort's experiments were brought to an abrupt halt. now, ansem SoD, ever the scientist, is spearheading the search to find the test subject that got away so he can finally complete the research he started all those years ago

saix, meanwhile, has been waiting for this opportunity since the day he joined the organization, and so volunteers to assist. if he plays his cards right, he may be able to kill two birds with one stone: find his friend, and commit subterfuge

but while ansem SoD is convinced that his old master had something to do with the girl's disappearance, saix is more perceptive. he had never trusted xigbar to begin with, but now the man is acting even more suspicious whenever the topic arises

at some point i want saix to go pester axel and try to deliver a covert message about the organization's plans, including subject x. he's a double agent, after all

axel doesn't have much reason to trust saix, but he takes the hint and goes to check the prison cell where they talked to her. what he finds is evidence that she must have been taken by someone within the castle, i.e. a keycard or something

basically i want saix and axel to have a more active role in this plot thread, seeing as it's the reason they joined the organization in the first place

unfortunately the subject x stuff can't really be resolved in this game since we still don't know her identity for sure. but since she's definitely from the union x era, i'm thinking maybe i can leave a clue in that optional dungeon, along with all the other stuff related to the age of fairytales

-----

hundred acre woods

also when those secret passages in the castle were uncovered, they found something else of interest: another volume of the winnie the pooh books, which merlin has been studying. it's in pretty bad condition, and while he's been trying to restore it, he's hit a wall, and so asks sora to check it out from the inside

inside, sora discovers that the books contain a shared universe, but the pathway to the first book is blocked due to the damage to the book's structure

it's implied that there's a whole series of these books, which merlin has been trying to collect for millenia

i'm cutting the entire plot of kh3's hundred acre woods because it goes nowhere and i hate it. what i would like to do is find a way to shoehorn in the plot of the tigger movie, but i haven't thought it through

in any case, you can count on more minigames 💃

-----

miscellaneous thoughts that didn't fit anywhere else

i wonder how riku feels about being back in the castle where he experienced his darkest moments. i go back and forth about this

in case you're wondering, my headcanon is that cloud isn't from radiant garden. i haven't decided if he's showing up in this AU, but if he does, it'll be in a different world. maybe he keeps in touch with aerith though?

with all that said, i would be down for a rinoa cameo! kh2 got my hopes up ;__;

i have an inkling of a potential tron/rinzler cameo by virtue of the bug blox appearing in san fransokyo. haven't worked through all that though. maybe the inter-world network intercepts a rogue signal that corrupts some data in the hollow bastion OS or something, idk

speaking of which, i know i also want to loop yen sid in to the network, simply because i never want to see the inside of his tower ever again. this could have been an email etc. etc. and if i have anything to say about it, it will be

i guess i could connect twilight town as well, but the problem is that nothing happens there, which is why i wanted to remove it in the first place