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myherowritings · 4 years

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PART 4. HOW THE RICH SUCK THEIR OWN DICKS

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.9k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. enji makes an appearance bleh, enji being classist, enji...ew, okay i swear most of the chapter is shouto and y/n being cute though

A/N. ngl i have genshin brainrot real bad at the moment but i still have motivation for ceo!shouto and ceo!shouto only u.u there are only 7 parts to this series so we’re at the halfway mark already AHHH i hope u enjoy reading and lmk what u think!! :3 xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

Shouto’s day went from good to bad faster than it took to pull an espresso.

It started off with a good morning text from you and having a brief, but pleasant, interaction at your work. Actually, the past few weeks have been going along a similar routine that he found himself settling into all too comfortably. You even upheld your promise of stealing him away one weekend to walk around the park, get food, and just have time to relax and be happy for once.

Getting to be in your presence almost daily became so normalized in his life that even some of his employees heard about the cute barista with the best pastries. Yet, although he saw you often, he found himself wanting to talk to you more and more.

But for now, Shouto told himself to settle with starting the mornings off with you. They were the best mornings he’s had in a while and he didn’t want to sound ungrateful.

Today, however, went sour fast after he heard his father was coming up to the top floor for a meeting with him. He didn’t find the idea of Enji visiting to be the most abhorrent thing, but the moment his father opened his mouth, Shouto quickly took that back.

As expected, his father reminded him about the annual charity gala Todoroki Enterprises was expected to attend. Handfuls of galas ran through the year, but the once hosted by Naruhata Industries under the guise of raising money and awareness for the charities of choice.

In theory, a charity gala ball sounded humanitarian and a way for the upper class to give back, but in reality, most of the funds collected didn’t go to the actual charities, instead they went to paying for the venue, live bands, entertainment, the most expensive catering, decorations, and more. What presented itself as a charitable event in the eyes of the public was really a way rich people could flaunt their wealth and feel good about themselves for doing absolutely nothing to benefit society. A way for the rich to suck their own dicks, if you would.

Shouto absolutely hated it.

It was also a press opportunity and, in his father’s eyes, a way to gain public favor for the Todoroki business. Today, Enji attempted to tell him that bringing a date that fit the mold of high society was the best way for him to establish rapport through media coverage. Apparently, the image news outlets have placed on Shouto were either a heartbreaker and playboy with no care for other’s emotions, or a monotonous stoic who seemed like a robot with no care for other’s emotions.

In either cases, there seemed to be a theme of Shouto not caring for others.

He sighed.

“You can’t keep that image, Shouto,” said Enji with his arms folded across his chest. “If the media sees you with someone—a nice girl with a good upbringing—then your likeability will increase tenfold. If there’s no one you like, I’ll have to set up a date for you.”

For a while, he was torn between telling his dad to fuck off and trying to do as he said to keep peace within the family. But then, an image of you popped into his head.

“Actually, there is someone I like.”

Enji narrowed his eyes. “Oh? An educated girl with wealthy parents?”

“There’s someone I like,” he simply repeated, the tone in his voice growing cold.

He didn’t know anything about your upbringing or family nor did he exactly care. Shouto didn’t want to bring a date to the dumb gala, but if he had to, he would want it to be you. Only if you agreed, of course. But if you weren’t willing, then he had to face the facts that his father would most likely force a date of his own choosing upon Shouto.

“That’s good you like someone, son,” Enji said through his teeth, “but we have to make sure it’s not some sort of...loose woman. That’d be even worse publicity—”

“I like someone and if you really cared about my happiness like you said you did, that’d be enough.”

There was a tense silence in the air. Shouto didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times Enji had told him and his siblings that he would try to be a better dad. A caring dad who only wanted what was best for his children. A better husband for Rei. A better example for the public. The first few times, Shouto believed it. But Enji said the same things over and over again with no lasting change and Shouto was just fed up.

After hearing the same lie told to him over and over again, it seemed to lose its weight. He seemed to lose his hope in his father ever changing.

Still, Shouto had to deal with him for as long as he lived. That much he knew as a son living in this society.

But he hoped Enji at least had enough guilt to let him have this.

“Fine.”

Shouto blinked in surprise.

Enji stated, “If you think your date can help your public image and not be a complete embarrassment to the business, you can bring them.”

That was the closest thing to approval Shouto would get today. He nodded and listened along to whatever else his father had to say, the only thing actually on his mind was thinking about how he would ask you out on a date to some stuffy gala. And hope that you’d say yes.

— ✩ —

“Wait, so, let me get this straight— You’re the CEO of Todoroki Enterprises and even after almost two months of knowing you, I had no clue?”

He inclined his head, looking solemn. “Yes, I’m sorry. Are you upset with me for not telling you sooner?”

Initial shock aside, you couldn’t say that you were too surprised at the revelation. You knew Shouto was wealthy and probably in some high-up position in the business industry, but you never knew to what extent. A CEO? That had to be the highest rank in a company! And a company as well known as Todoroki Enterprises?

The thought made you a little nervous. The guy you slowly befriended over the course of short cafe visits and silly texts was Mr. Todoroki? Or worse— The guy you stole away from doing work for a whole weekend was someone as busy as a CEO? You internally groaned. That had to be against laws of the universe or something.

“I’m not upset, no,” you said with a shake of your head. “I just...can’t believe it I guess.” Eyes widening, you were quick to amend your words. “Well, I can believe it. You seem very intelligent and well-put together and, uh, rich! But I guess I just didn’t think a CEO would be so funny and kind.” You winced. “Oh no, is that mean to say?”

“I don’t think it’s mean.” He shrugged. “You’re right to say most people in this field aren’t known for their delightful temperaments.”

You absentmindedly drummed your finger against your thigh, trying to process this new information. “So you’re Todoroki Shouto...and you want me to be your date to the Naruhata Charity Ball?”

“Yeah. I know it’s a huge favor to ask, and I promise you can say no if you choose,” said Shouto in earnest. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to agree.”

With a hum, you stretched your legs out under the table before crossing one over the other again. It was a Saturday afternoon where you had no work and Shouto managed to escape from his for a few hours of the day. You took him to your favorite ice cream place nearby and the two of you ate at a dining area outside the establishment.

Just a mundane day as two friends hanging out with each other where you found out one of those friends was the chief executive officer of a billion dollar business headquartered in Japan.

Totally normal, everyday occurrences, obviously.

“And you need a date for this event?” you asked. In all honesty, you would be more than happy if Shouto asked you out on a date. He was fun and you enjoyed getting to know him. But these particular circumstances made you a tad bit more nervous.

“I normally wouldn’t need to bring one, but my father insists it’d help my public image and in turn the image of the company.” With a pinched look on his face, he took a bite of his ice cream. “In other words I bring a date or he picks one for me.”

You weren’t the most caught up on super rich people drama, but it was almost infamous how estranged the Todoroki family was. Again, you didn’t know much but you did know enough to say that Todoroki Enji seemed like a Class A asshole. If you could help Shouto out with his weird dilemma, you saw no reason not to.

“So this charita gala is like where they have those live auctions and silent auctions and get tipsy on fancy wine and champagne for hours right?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Yeah. Have you attended one?”

“Not quite,” you said with a sheepish smile. “I’ve volunteered at one in school though. As one of those runners? It was fun. I got a bunch of those tiny complimentary candies!” Your mouth watered at the memory. “What kind of drug were in those candies? I’ve never had candy so good before!”

“The tiny, circular candies with the excessively big wrapper? The fruity ones?”

You shot up in your seat, excited he knew what you were talking about. “Yes! That’s the one!”

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. “I always see those at these types of events.”

“So… The candy will be there at the gala you want me to accompany you to?”

“Most likely.”

“Can I take a bunch of those from candies there…?” you asked with an optimistic grin.

“I’ll be your accomplice in sneaking them out.”

“It’s a date!” you said before Shouto could get another word out.

You’d be reunited with those yummy, fancy candies you’ve been separated from for far too long. What other reason did you need to agree?

With a determined look on your face, you held your hand out for Shouto to shake to seal the deal.

He blinked. “Wait. Did you want to discuss it some more? Maybe have a few days to think it through? I’m grateful, of course, but I don’t want you regretting anything.”

“No. I won’t regret it. I’d do anything to taste those candies again.”

Shouto looked unsure what to say. “Isn’t there some parable warning people not to be bribed by candy?”

“Not to take candy from a baby?”

“No. Not that one.”

“That’s the only one I know.”

“Never mind then.”

The two of you exchanged confused looks before letting out fits of laughter. You weren’t sure if either of you knew exactly what the other was laughing at, but the moment was an enjoyable one nonetheless.

“Yet another reason to bring me to that fancy event— I’ll make sure you’re entertained all the way through,” you playfully bragged, smoothing down the front of your shirt.

“The event will definitely be more bearable with you there.” He licked a small bit of his ice cream from his pink spoon, making a sound of approval. “But you can change your mind about coming at any time, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” you said, holding a pinky out. “Pinky promise.”

With what seemed like a bashful expression on his face, Shouto extended his own pinky to interlock yours. You sealed it with a kiss and a heart, like you were a kid again.

“Now, am I supposed to be in love with you at the gala?” you asked nonchalantly, finishing off your last bite of ice cream. He offered you a spoonful of his and you tried not to grow too flustered at Shouto feeding you his dessert. You murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

He gave you a small smile. “You’re welcome. As for being in love… I don’t think that’s necessary. Just pretend you like being around me, I think.”

Under the table, you nudged his shoe with yours, pulling a face. “I don’t have to pretend about that, silly.”

“Ah, well,” he paused, offering you another spoonful of ice cream, “I don’t either.”

“I’m glad.” Then, “Is this strawberry? I was never a big strawberry ice cream fan but for some reason this tastes so good.”

You ignored the nagging voice in your head that said maybe it wasn’t so much the ice cream flavor but who you were enjoying it with.

The two of you finished his dessert in peace and after cleaning up the area with a napkin, Shouto turned to you with an intent look on his face.

“Before the gala, would you mind if I talk you shopping so you could pick out what to wear?” he asked. “I would pay of course— It’s the least I could do to say thank you.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me! You’re my friend and I want to help.” You thought about it for a moment. “And get the candy.”

“Anything for the candy.”

“Exactly,” you said in complete seriousness. “But I wouldn’t mind going shopping with you. You could help me decide what to wear! I’m not exactly sure how to dress for an event as fancy as this.”

“You could wear anything to the event and still look amazing.” His words were ones of flattery but his tone sounded completely genuine.

Heat rose to your cheeks at the compliment. “Look who’s talking— You’re practically runway ready no matter what time of day.”

“I’ve never walked a runway before.”

You stifled a laugh at his literal interpretation of your words. Cute. “Me neither.”

He looked confused at why you were grinning, but it still brought a smile to his own lips.

By now the sun had begun to set and Shouto was walking you to the train to see you off before you went home.

“Can I pick you up next weekend in the morning?” he said. “So we can get your outfit for the gala?”

“Sure! I’ll text you my address.”

He nodded in contentment. “And again, you don’t have to worry about any costs.”

“Is this why my friends have called you a sugar daddy?” you teased, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked down the street, side-by-side. “But thank you. Shopping will be fun— We can even match colors!”

“Mn.” He looked between the both of you, as if trying to picture what colors would complement each other.

You crossed the sidewalk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the scenery by Shouto’s side. A few times, you even felt his knuckles brush against yours and you had the undeniable urge to hold his hand. Would that be weird? you asked yourself before deciding against it.

Just because he asked you to be his date for the Naruhata Charity Ball didn’t mean he actually liked you, right? It was just a favor from a friend to a friend.

Something about that though made your stomach unsettled. Maybe part of you wanted it to be a real date— Wanted this to be a real date.

“So I won’t be seeing you tomorrow,” you said after a moment’s silence, trying not to look too dejected.

You knew he’d still text good morning and good night and ask you random things throughout the day (all of which you found really endearing, by the way), but it was still different from seeing him in person. Even though your time together in the morning was small, they still were enough to make your day. The thought of your waking hours being so entwined made you nervous, but for some reason it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. In fact, it was sort of...nice.

“I’ll see you Monday morning, right?” you asked hopefully, though you were already fairly certain of the answer.

Shouto nodded. “Of course. It’s already marked on my calendar.”

“Ever the flatterer, hmm?”

“Not flattery, just the truth.” He pulled his phone out and showed you his (rather packed) calendar app. To your surprise, a little reminder that said ‘See Y/N :)’ was marked on his Monday schedule.

Unable to stop the beam from spreading across your lips, you hid your face in your hands. Gosh— Did he have to be so cute? He was making it harder and harder to only like him as a friend. And even now, you weren’t sure if you liked him only as a friend.

But you pushed those thoughts away.

That was something to deal with at a later time.

When you reached the train station you normally took home, you turned to Shouto, giving him a big hug. He was tall and warm. You could feel his lean muscles through his button-down shirt as you rested your head against his chest and arms around his waist.

“Thanks for today,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you again soon.”

After a pause, he gave you a hug back, hands rubbing hesitant circles on your back in a way that made you smile. “Text me when you get home safe,” he said as you both reluctantly released each other from an embrace.

“I will,” you promised. “You do the same! Later, Shouto!”

And with that, you waved goodbye and boarded the train, unable to shake the unwavering grin on your face all the way home.

a/n: when shouto started feeding y/n spoonfuls of his ice cream i cried (Ｔ▽Ｔ) that’s so cUTE OF HIM LIKE PLS SIR STOP BEFORE I FALL MORE IN LOVE WITH U !! >:O he’s such a sweetheart ahhhh,, i hope all the fluff made up for the brief appearance of endeavor ಠ╭╮ಠ FHDJKF

what to expect in the next part:

shopping for the gala time !!

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~ part 2

oh my, y/n has to try on dresses? oh my, it’d be a shame if they needed help putting it on :o *fake gasp*

yeah things get just a lil steamy but shh

2K notes · View notes

alluringjae · 3 years

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until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome (dm me if you want to be added)

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down. Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 9) - Inner Demons

Summary: The reader meets Gen for the first time while the boys are having a day together. But when they come home early and Jensen overhears the reader, a very big discussion about what they both expect out of their relationship has to happen...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Skinny Dipping

Word Count: 5,100ish

Warnings: mature (language, skinny dipping, implied future smut, angst, self-doubt)

A/N: Please enjoy! Also written for @spnkinkbingo

________

“No,” whined Zeppelin as Jensen carried him out of the bedroom for the third time that night. “Daddy, I want to sleep with you.”

“Zeppelin. You gotta be a big boy and go to sleep. It’s midnight and way, way past bedtime,” said Jensen. He started to cry loudly and Jensen set him down. “Do you want a time out? I’ll give you one first thing in the morning if you don’t behave.”

He ran over to you and grabbed your leg, burying his face in it. Jensen sighed, tired after a long day and you knew he needed some sleep. You squatted down and Zeppelin grabbed at you, shaking a bit. You frowned, Jensen catching it as you picked up the little boy.

“He can stay,” you said. Jensen made a face but you carried him into the room, Jensen grumbling to himself. You let Zeppelin crawl into the middle and immediately grab his father when Jensen got under the covers. He was asleep quickly, Jensen kissing the top of his head. “He’s scared.”

“He had a tantrum. He’s four,” whispered Jensen. “He needs to sleep on his own or he gets dependent.”

“You’re his father. He’s already dependent,” you whispered. “He’s a little you.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means he missed his daddy and he has been the one telling his sisters for three weeks daddy’s coming home soon. I don’t care if he sleeps in our bed, Jensen. Sometimes he has to be a big boy but not tonight.”

“He was very...he’s very much me,” he said quietly, fixing the blankets over his son. “He’s in tune with other’s emotions.”

“I know,” you said. “He’s a sweet boy.”

“When I was a kid, around seven or so, my dad went out to LA for about two months for work. We didn’t have the money for him to fly back and forth so he drove out there. He would call every night but it was long distance and it was expensive back then so all I got to do was say hi to him really. Somewhere in the middle of the two months he drove back to visit for a weekend. I was so excited. So, so excited. I was gonna tell him all about school and my baseball games and the jumping contest my brother and I had on the swings. I was so pumped. He said he was gonna be there Saturday morning for breakfast. Well, I wake up, run downstairs, he’s not there. Lunch rolls around, he’s not there. Afternoon snack time rolls around…”

“He’s not there?” you asked, Jensen nodding. “What happened?”

“Never left LA. Got in a car accident. He was fine but this was the eighties and my mom didn’t get a phone call until the afternoon saying he wouldn’t be coming home. I thought a hundred million things in my head of why he wasn’t there. That achy pit in your stomach. When he finally came home a month later, I slept in their room, in their bed. That little achy feeling went away after that night. I know how much he’s like me,” he said, lightly running his fingers over Zeppelin’s head. “But I gave him that part of me too and I wish I hadn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s too little to worry about me.”

“He’s okay and he’s not gonna worry after tonight. But Jensen, there’s nothing wrong with him having that part of you. It’s a really good part, the part that loves the people he cares about. Right now he doesn’t understand it but someday he will and that’s going to make him a person people will be fortunate to have in their lives. That’s a great part of you he got.”

“Just have to go and make me feel better, don’t you,” he said softly. He closed his eyes and smiled. “Think I’m doing an okay job at this?”

“Yup,” you said. Zeppelin turned over in his sleep, smashing his face into your arm.

“You care for them,” said Jensen. You nodded and he burrowed down into the sheets. “Because of me or your job?”

“It always helps the job,” you said. “When you nanny, you want the kids to feel comfortable with you and caring about them always makes that easier. But I don’t...I don’t like them because I decided I liked their dad, you know?”

“Why did you then?”

“People with money sometimes let their children get raised by that money and you can tell when it happens. But it’s so obvious that doesn’t happen with them. They have nice toys and clothes and things but they’re good and funny and smart and they could very easily be brats if you went the easy route but you didn’t and it just shows. Sure they’re kids and they can drive anyone to the brink of insanity at times, but they got big hearts, especially for dad. I just like them and seeing them grow into those people more every day.”

“Me too,” he said, Zeppelin rolling back, fisting his hands into Jensen’s shirt this time. He smiled and you leaned over, kissing him goodnight, pecking one on Zeppelin’s head. “Night.”

“Night Jensen.”

The next afternoon when you arrived at Jared’s house you weren’t sure what you were expecting. Jared and Jensen were off doing who knew what and you felt like you’d been set up on a playdate yourself. You’d dropped off the kids there more than once already and knew their kids but for some reason or other you’d yet to meet Gen. You swallowed as you followed the kids around the side of the house, the three of them taking off to go play with their friends on a swing set. You looked around and bit your bottom lip, fixing your bag over your shoulder.

“Y/N?” called a voice. You turned and saw a woman behind you, a bit sweaty in some workout clothes. “Hey. I’m Gen. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Thanks. You too,” you said.

“Come on,” she said, waving you to follow her up some steps to a patio. “Tom! JJ!”

“We know!” they shouted back from the swings. She shook her head and sighed.

“Not that any of the little ones can get over to the pool anyways but I want to remind them to keep an eye on the younger ones when I’m inside,” she said, showing you to a patio door. You followed her inside, Gen walking into a kitchen and going straight to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of cold water.

“They have hair like their dad,” you said.

“Yes, yes they do. Getting them to get a haircut is like herding cats,” she said. She gulped down her water and let out a deep breath. “Do you mind if I shower quick? Time got away from me.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you said.

“There’s a bathroom right around the corner there. Feel free to take whatever from the kitchen if you want. I’ll be back in ten,” she said.

“No problem,” you said. When she was upstairs you went back outside, leaving your bag in a patio chair. You went down the steps and watched the kids running around for a moment before exploring their backyard. “Here I thought your backyard was nice Ackles.”

“Y/N, will you play tag with us?” asked Arrow from over in the grass.

“How could I say no to a face like that?”

Fifteen minutes later you were warm and taking a break under the patio again out of the sun, the kids playing on the slide and swings now.

“Remember when we had endless energy like that?” asked Gen as the back door opened.

“Barely,” you said, a margarita glass set down in front of you. “I see we’re going to be very good friends.”

“It’s so hot out today,” she said, setting a pitcher and another glass down on the table. She poured you a glass and then herself one before taking a seat beside you. “I bet the boys are out jet skiing.”

“They really are like a pair of children when you get them together,” you said.

“Yeah but it’s cute. Most people don’t ever get to have a best friend like that,” she said. “Sometimes they need their space from each other but Jared’s literally been counting down the days until Jensen gets back.”

“I don’t think Jensen will ever stay away that long again. He missed his family and friends. Home,” you said.

“We’re glad to have him back. He’s been gone for a while. Even before you went to Canada,” she said.

“Were you good friends with...” you asked, Gen nodding. “I’m sorry.”

“It sucked. Still does,” she said. “When the boys were off, we could hang out. We got very close. After the accident I was the one taking care of the kids, helping his parents and family with their day to day. Jared focused more on Jensen, helping him physically get back to normal and then mentally. But you know how he was when you met him.”

“I know a lot of work went into helping him get there. I’m very grateful he had you guys,” you said.

“Listen...I’m hoping we can be good friends too. It was different for me and Dee. We both were dating the boys around the same time, got married around the same time. I know we don’t have that and...I just hope we can have that relationship still.”

“Me too. I know we’re probably gonna be seeing you guys a lot now that neither of them are working,” you said.

“Probably most everyday,” she said. “They’re like twins separated at birth or something I swear.”

“Has Jensen always been a bit quiet?” you asked.

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen that boy drunk off his ass and being a troublemaker but he’s always been that way. Maybe it’s why he and Jared fit. They’re protective of each other in different ways. Jared’s the loud one out of the two of them, always has been and Jensen, even if he is your best fucking friend, sometimes he’s a little bit quiet.”

“I figured as much. He’s just…”

“Gentle,” she said, a smile coming to your face. “You two are pretty serious, huh.”

“Maybe.”

“It’s been five months. I’d say it’s serious. You move in yet?”

“Technically I’ve always been moved in,” you said. She laughed and took a sip of her drink. “Yeah. We’ve gotten to the sharing a room stage very recently.”

“You must be very special then,” she said. “He was never gonna fall in love ever again. Told Jared and me himself. Now he’s as lovestruck as the first time around.”

“I’m not expecting…” you said, sipping on your drink. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Like I said, we can be friends without the boys,” she said. “What aren’t you expecting?”

“This,” you said with a shrug. “Marriage. Kids of my own. I don’t know where it goes with Jensen.”

“You should start having those talks with him,” she said, your head shaking. “You have to, just so you’re on the same page.”

“I don’t even know if we’re reading the same book,” you said. She nodded and you slumped back into your seat. “I know I love him and that he loves me. But I don’t know if that’s enough.”

“A friend once told me that’s all you need,” said Jensen behind you. You turned around and Jensen was standing there, a sad smile on his face. “We wanted to come hang out with you guys. Y/N?”

You got a smile from Gen as you followed Jensen inside, Jared slipping past and out back. You crossed your arms and looked down, Jensen stepping close to you, large hands resting on your arms.

“Why don’t you think it’s enough?” he asked quietly.

“It is. Gen and I were just shooting the shit,” you said, forcing your gaze up. He slid his hand down and took one of yours, pulling you over to a quiet sitting room. He sat down on a day bed, you going with him.

“Honey. Tell me the truth.” He ran his thumb over the back of your hand as you crossed your legs. “Did I do something?”

“No. You’re perfect,” you said, glancing down to your lap. “All I was saying was...I don’t know where you stand on some things.”

“Like what?” he asked, still smiling softly, hiding all of the nerves underneath it.

“Kids. Marriage. The fact your family has never once met me or knows I exist. Am I just gonna be the nanny girlfriend or is there something more? I love you. I fucking love and I don’t need or want...I just want to know if you’re open to those things.”

“I don’t know,” he said. You nodded and moved your hand back into your lap, Jensen letting go of it. “Is that a deal breaker?”

“No,” you said with a shake of your head. “Like I said, we were shooting the shit.”

You were both quiet before you stood, Jensen grabbing your hand. He pulled you back to sit, plopping you straight down in his lap before kissing you.

“Okay I do know but the answers fucking scare me,” he said. “I said I was gonna stop being scared when it came to you.”

“Jensen, you don’t have to-”

“Yes, I would have more kids if it were with the right person. Preferably sooner than later but yes. Yes, I would marry again. Yes, I would introduce her to my family and yes they do know about her. Not as much as I’d like but they do know her. And lastly yes, I am open to more than just the nanny girlfriend, so much fucking more. All of it more. But that scares me that almost a year later here I am, open to all of those things, wanting those things with you when losing Dee hurt so much. It’s not fair to you that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be, simple and normal and just the fun parts. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking you to stop loving her. God if you ever did, I don’t think you’d be the man I love. I just wanted to know if there’s room for a future in there maybe,” you said.

“You kinda got in there all on your own and I don’t want you to ever come out,” he said.

“Ever?” you breathed out. “Cause that implies-”

“If someone’s gonna be that second person for me, I think…” he said, looking down. You rested your forehead against his, Jensen taking a deep breath. “I know you won’t wait for me forever to get my shit together.”

“Well, forever’s a long time. I can offer a few years at least?” you asked, Jensen laughing dryly. “What?”

“I don’t deserve a few years. Your emotions aren’t a toy to play with.”

“Yours aren’t something to drag along when they’re not ready.”

“See? You do that shit. You always do that fucking shit,” he said, his voice a few octaves higher. You wrapped him up in a hug, feeling a few drops of wetness hit your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“For crying? Jesus Jens, it’s okay,” you said. “I promise it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I keep tossing you around like you don’t have feelings too, like this isn’t hard for you too. It’s always me and my fucking problems with just…”

“Just what honey,” you said, Jensen holding onto you tightly, chin resting on your shoulder.

“I can’t,” he said.

“Why not?” you said, carding your fingers through his hair.

“I don’t want this to go away,” he mumbled out. “This is it and I feel like I’m gonna explode and-”

“Shush,” you said, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing his whole body as much as you could. He stilled briefly and calmed down some, sniffling to himself before you released to a gentler hold on him. “Just the anxiety talking.”

“I love you,” he said, lifting his head up, looking you straight on. “I want to marry you. I want to have kids with you and do everything with you. I’ve known those things for a very long time. Longer than you have and before you even thought of them as questions. I want all that and you’re gonna get stuck with me, with this, with the never ending baggage, with the baggage you haven’t even seen yet. All your life is gonna be is taking care of my ass and you getting hurt because of it. Is that what you want? Is it? Because I want so much fucking more for you than me.”

“Was that your proposal speech?” you asked calmly. He blinked a few times and narrowed his eyes.

“What? Y/N I-”

“Well you said you want to marry me and yeah, I fucking want to do that with you too so was that your speech?”

“What?” he asked so innocently you smiled. “I don’t…”

“I happen to like taking care of your ass. So. You want me gone, I’m gone. You want me to stay, I’m staying forever. What’s it gonna be?” you asked.

“Stay,” he said quietly with a nod. “Please don’t go away from us.”

“Okay,” you said. He leaned forward and kissed you, sniffling some more when he broke off. “Are you…”

“I can’t believe I just asked that while I’m covered in tears and snot,” he said. A box of tissues suddenly flung itself through the doorway, landing near your feet. You stared down at it and started to laugh, Jensen chuckling while you picked it up. “I’m never living that down.”

“Who gives a fuck,” you said. You took out a tissue and wiped off his face and eyes, having him blow his nose a few times. “That’s really gross.”

“I know.”

“Must be how you know it’s meant to be,” you said, wiping your hand off.

“Stay forever?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Yeah that sounds good.”

“Me too,” he said. He pulled you into a hug and you held him tight, the door sneakily shutting on the two of you when it started to pour outside and you heard the backdoor. “I bet that’s how you imagined that going.”

“I never thought it would happen,” you said. “Not when I first came here. Love’s for other people. Normal people with normal families.”

“Fuck normal,” he said and you laughed. You picked up a clean tissue and licked it, wiping off a dried tear streak on his cheek. “I feel good.”

“We’re gonna work on that bottling shit up stuff, okay?” you said.

“Maybe you’ll have more success than Dee did,” he chuckled.

“I’ll just have to build off what she started,” you said. He nodded and cupped your cheek as you finished cleaning him off. “There, all better.”

“Guess you’re out of a nanny job,” he said.

“Oh such a shame,” you said. “I’ve been putting my paychecks for the last while to a separate account.”

“I did notice that,” he said. “Saving for something?”

“Wanted to give it back to you.”

“Honeymoon fund instead?”

“Okay, now we’re talking,” you said with a laugh.

“You never did tell me how much your book deal got you.”

“I signed a multi-year deal. They think there’s great potential for it to be one of those series every kid reads. One million for around twenty books?”

“Fuck. You should be my agent if you can negotiate like that,” he said.

“I’m still gonna take care of them like I have been,” you said.

“I know. It’s probably going to be a million times harder now actually,” he said. You nodded and he smiled. “You love them.”

“Yes but I don’t know how to be a parent.”

“Just do what you’ve been doing and it’ll be fine,” he said. “It’ll change but it’ll be good.”

“Not really how I was expecting today to go,” you said.

“Me either. I had hoped for that to be a tad more romantic,” he said. You gave him a kiss and hug, Jensen returning it. “You don’t care.”

“Nah,” you said. “Just care about you. Everything else, I’m good.”

“Want to go share the news with our eavesdropper?” he asked. You helped him up to his feet and took his hand, walking out of the room, Jared and Gen suspiciously wiping down their kitchen counter. “Or should I say eavesdroppers.”

“We were concerned and I swear we left after Jared tossed the tissues in,” said Gen. Jared shook his head and pointed at her. “I swear he did it.”

“Guess you guys heard then,” said Jensen, giving you a smile. “We’re gonna give it a shot.”

“You okay?” asked Jared. Jensen nodded and squeezed your hand. “You sure?”

“I know what I want,” said Jensen. “I’ve known for a long time. Finally got over being scared is all.”

“She wasn’t gonna hurt you,” said Jared with a smile.

“I know. It was a different fear,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said. “Promise.”

“You better not, sweetheart.”

It was dark by the time the storms had passed, all three kids going down easy after spending most of the day running around the Padalecki house. You sat on the balcony off of Jensen’s bedroom in the oversized lounge chair, Jensen sat on the other side of the small side table your drink rested on.

“I’ve never been on a boat before,” you said, staring up at the dark night sky, the only light coming from a few string ones Jensen had turned on.

“Never?” asked Jensen. “Better wear your life jacket tomorrow then.”

“You better wear your life jacket,” you said. “We both know I’m a better swimmer than you.”

“You’re a better swimmer than me? Me?” he chuckled. “No way.”

“Put your money where your mouth is. Five bucks says I’m a better swimmer,” you said. He waved the way towards the door and you stood up, walking downstairs and outside.

“Uh, you missing something?” he chuckled. You smirked and pulled off your shirt and undid your jeans, shimming out of them and leaving them by the patio. “You really think…”

“I really think what?” you said, tossing your bra at him, leaving your underwear behind. You jumped in and swam out to the deep end. “You’re already losing Jensen.”

“Losing my ass,” he said, taking off his shirt and jeans, nearly tripping as he hopped out of his boxer briefs. He jumped in nearby and swam over to you, dunking his head under briefly. “I could get used to this look.”

“Nothing you’ve not seen before.”

“Never seen my fiance naked before,” he grinned. You rolled your eyes but swam over and gave him a kiss. “I knew you had a thing for dorks you know.”

“Did you now?”

“Told me yourself. Not a fan of cocky guys I recall.”

“Well...a little cock is okay. Highly recommended in fact,” you said.

“You are such a loser,” he laughed.

“I must have learned it from you.” You giggled and swam back to the shallow end, Jensen lazily chasing after. “I’ve never skinny dipped until just now actually.”

“Got anything on your bucket list you want to try out?” he asked. You shrugged and took a seat on a step, Jensen settling in next to you. “Naked trounce on the trampoline?”

“Maybe another time,” you said. You leaned back and looked up at the dark sky once more. He reached over and held your hand in the water, playing with it quietly. “Skydiving would be cool. Space would be cool.”

“One of those is a lot more feasible than the other. I noticed up in Canada where we had more stars at night you really like looking at them.”

“Did it a lot as a kid. Kinda always have,” you said. “I like space as much as the next gal but it’s just pretty, you know? You’re one little speck out in all of those stars. It’s all so freaking complex but you can kinda look up at them and it’s just so simple too.”

“Yeah,” he said, toying with a strand of hair floating in the water. “I get that.”

You turned and found him staring at you, a smile on his lips.

“We could go camping sometime, see all the stars there are up there if you’d like,” he said.

“We don’t have to do that,” you said.

“Why?” he asked quietly. “I’m curious is all. It seems like something you’d really enjoy seeing.”

“What purpose does it serve though? It’s not something fun for the kids to experience,” you said. “It’s a waste of money.”

“It doesn’t have to have a purpose. It’s for you, for us. A night away where you get to see something most people don’t ever get a chance. That’s the only purpose,” he said. “Camping’s about the cheapest thing you can do. Don’t worry about the money. You don’t have to worry about that ever again.”

“I just don’t want to go camping,” you said. You looked down and swallowed. “I used to go camping with my dad a lot.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do that to me,” you said. “I just...I don’t think I ever want to go again.”

“Okay. Would you go camping with me sometime?” he asked.

“Jensen-”

“Just me. No body else. I won’t even touch you except to cuddle,” he said. You nodded and he smiled. “Thank you. It won’t be scary this time. I promise.”

“Is your dad nice?” you asked. He leaned back against his elbows and nodded. “Does he know about me?”

“My parents know I have a girlfriend. My mom knows I was getting pretty serious about you,” he said.

“Do they know I was the nanny? Or how old I am?”

“No. My siblings do but not my parents,” he said. You sat up and wrapped your arms around yourself in the warm night air. “I’m not embarrassed of you Y/N. I think that’s a conversation better had in person is all.”

“You haven’t told them because you think they’ll have a problem with it,” you said.

“Not as much problem as when I say I’m not having a prenup,” he said. You turned your head and saw him smiling back. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t trust you completely.”

“Jensen I don’t want to cause a problem,” you said. He shook his head and you sighed. “I know how close you are with them and you haven’t gotten to see them since Christmas. I know exactly what they’re gonna think of me when they hear about the former nanny.”

“You don’t seem to understand yet that you? Nobody is more important than you and those three in there. If they can’t accept you then screw ‘em.”

“Jensen.”

“I’m not worried and you know why? I love you and you love me. I know they love me a whole lot too so you’re on the same side.”

“You’re a bad liar,” you said. He sat up and sighed. “Jens-”

“I don’t know how they’ll act. But you deserve a chance and that’s what I expect out of them. I want them to love you too but at a minimum you’ll have their respect.”

You nodded and sunk down in the warm water, Jensen sliding over and taking a seat on your lap, tossing his arms around your shoulders.

“You still talk to Dee’s parents right?” you asked. He nodded and wrapped his legs loosely around your waist. “Do they…”

“No,” he said quietly. “They deserve for that to be an in person conversation too. They’re coming up soon for JJ’s birthday soon. I figured I’d tell them then.”

“I’m glad you still talk to them,” you said. “They still see you guys.”

“Christmas was hard last year. I’m not sure which one of us got it worse,” he said.

“I’d like to meet them if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “I’m not sure how they’ll react honestly.”

“I’d still like to,” you said, stepping out into the water with him, Jensen hanging off of you. “If only you were this light normally I’d carry you around all day.”

“Didn’t we agree a long time ago you were the badass princess after all,” he said, bumping his nose against yours.

“Here I thought you’d be taller,” you teased, quickly kissing him.

“Little shit,” he grinned. He nuzzled your cheek and you let out a deep breath. “Don’t worry about them.”

“At least we don’t have to go through this on my side,” you said.

“Can I ask one thing of you?”

“What?”

“Ray, your mom’s boyfriend, did things end badly between the two of you or you just drift apart? You said you left when you finished high school.”

“I stopped talking to him awhile ago. I moved out at 18 when I got my first nanny job. He was dating his wife Sarah by then. I’d come over for dinner every few months for a few years. By the time I was twenty one they were married with two kids. I didn’t go one time and kept putting it off and Ray told me it was okay if I didn’t want to see him anymore. I could call him if I ever needed him, that sort of thing. I haven’t spoken to him in nine years. But that’s not asking something of me, is it.”

“Can we consider inviting him to the wedding?”

“Been engaged eight hours and already planning?” you asked.

“I don’t know him but he had a part in raising you. Just consider it is all I ask. And wedding? Those things take fucking forever to plan, trust me.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, spinning him around in the water. “Are they really that complicated to put together?”

“Nah. Don’t go bridezilla on me is all,” he said.

“Total diva over here,” you said, feeling the edge of the shallow end start to drop off with your foot. You spun around one more time before you had to set him down, Jensen taking the chance to pick you up and toss you out of of the water. “Jensen! I’m naked!”

“I know. It’s awesome,” he said, swimming out and kissing your cheek. “Wanna race?”

“Winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser when we head upstairs?” you grinned.

“Oh, you’re so on.”

______

A/N: Read Part 10 here!

#spnkinkbingo #supernatural #spn #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years

Text

Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: underage drinking, angst, hoseok’s bare abs

Word Count: 10,705

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

“Okay, even you have to admit this is too soon.” Finn stared, appalled at the chalkboard. “It’s not even Halloween!”

Laughing a little, you looped your arm around his to drag him towards the back. Plopping down in a chair, you placed your order number in the center of the table. Seating himself across the table from you, Finn began to undo his coat.

“Come on.” He grinned, brown hair flopping when he leaned forward. “Admit it – this is too early for holiday drinks.”

“Okay, maybe it’s a little early,” you acquiesced. “But Halloween is tomorrow! They probably just put up the holiday drinks so they don’t have to do it on Sunday.”

“Laziness!” he cried, jabbing a finger in the air.

Shaking your head, you smiled when Namjoon, the barista, placed a pumpkin soy latte before you.

“Thanks!” you said, pulling this towards you.

“No problem,” he said, flashing his dimples before he turned to leave.

Taking a long, slow sip of your drink, you groaned. “Oh my god. This is it. This is heaven.”

Finn laughed. “Is that seriously your first pumpkin drink of the season?” Sadly, he shook his head. “I remember our senior year, you dragged me out of bed at 7:00 AM on a Saturday just to get the first pumpkin drink of the year.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ve needed the extra caffeine jolt each morning. Sweet drinks just don’t cut it anymore.”

“Ah, the first step in addiction.” Finn nodded sagely.

Smiling, you settled back in your seat as he took the first sip of his black coffee. It had been two weeks since your fight at the club and since then, Finn had been on his best behavior. For about a week, things between you had been awkward but slowly, your relationship was returning to normal.

Seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop, you drank from your cup and glanced around the room. This was what you’d pictured when you imagined you and Finn living in the city together. Coffee dates, going on new adventures and continuing your relationship where it had left off.

Of course, this morning was only possible because Miss Britt’s ballet class had been cancelled. A contemporary master class had been scheduled for the afternoon, but your day before then was free – something you’d immediately taken advantage of by calling Finn. It was becoming easier to fit each other into your schedules, more like second nature, but things were still tense whenever things didn’t line up.

None of this was eased by the burgeoning whatever-it-was you’d shoved to the back of your mind regarding Jimin. Since the day of Mr. Vlad’s ballet class, you’d managed to keep your emotions in check, but were constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. You and Jimin were professionals, obviously, but you were also only human. It was reasonable to have subconscious wants and desires, but these weren’t important unless you chose to act upon them.

You didn’t tell Finn about it because honestly, there was nothing to tell. Okay, so you’d felt an errant spark one day during a lift. Big deal. Finn had been your boyfriend for over two years – it would take more than that to threaten your relationship. A relationship which, frankly, had been getting stronger as of late. Telling him something as inconsequential as a spark you had with Jimin would only take you further down the wrong path.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing separate things tomorrow?” Finn interrupted your thoughts. His brow furrowed. “It is Halloween, after all.”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded. “Halloween, the internationally known couple’s holiday.”

He laughed. “Okay, point made – but still.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. This was something you’d already been over. “It just makes sense like this! Your friends are going to that off-campus party and I promised Noelle I’d go to this club thing with her.”

“Right, of course.” Finn grinned. “I’m bummed I’ll miss seeing you as the Powerpuff girls, though. Who’s going to be the third one, again?”

“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Miss Responsibility.”

A twinge of annoyance went through you, but you pushed it aside. You didn’t think you were always the responsible one but admittedly, you’d been more on edge than usual lately.

“Anyways,” you continued with a roll of your eyes. “I’m Blossom, Noelle is Buttercup and Irene is going as Bubbles. It’ll be fun! Aside from the whole club part, of course.”

“It does sound fun,” Finn admitted, a tad mournful. “Meanwhile, I’ve been roped into the classic college bro costume of Ghostbusters.”

“Oh, come on! That is classic! You’ll be super cute in your… suit? Cargo pants? What do Ghostbusters wear again?”

“Knowing Ben, something tragic from Party City. Pray for me.”

“I’ll light candles.”

Finn grinned, sipping his coffee again and your conversation slipped naturally to other topics.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant every college campus was gearing up for some epic parties. Noelle had managed to snag tickets to a club fancy enough to require an RSVP. Apparently, said brother she missed was a DJ and could get tickets to a lot of things if Noelle bothered to ask.

A bunch of people from Russet were going, which made you excited. There hadn’t been many parties with your classmates so far this semester. Despite technically being in college, your classmates were all under the same intense pressure, only made worse by constant early morning ballet.

This week though, even your teachers seemed to have decided you needed a break. Aside from the master class you had this afternoon, there were zero Russet classes until Monday morning. The break in schedule meant you could actually go out – and drink – if you so decided. You and Noelle were planning on attending a ballet class tomorrow, but your entire day after would be free.

You’d originally planned on seeing Finn during the day, but then he’d been invited to a Halloween darty (day party) starting at noon. Despite not seeing Finn on Halloween, you weren’t feeling stressed. It was only one holiday and not even a couple’s one, as you’d said.

After coffee, you kissed Finn goodbye and headed to class at Danley Hall. The atmosphere was different as soon as you entered the classroom – all of the students were buzzing, excited by the prospect of the weekend ahead. The excitement only grew when coupled with the fact that today’s class was contemporary.

For nearly two months, your training had been mostly ballet. This was the foundation of all western dance, and where most dance students were expected to start. Finally though, you were being given a chance to show off. Today’s teacher, Luna Jordan, was a well-known contemporary choreographer across the globe.

You’d done a master class with her once back in high school and honestly couldn’t wait to learn from her again. She wasn’t alone, though, you noticed as you walked in – an unfamiliar, dark-haired guy stood beside her, stretching lithely before the room’s mirror.

“Holy shit,” Noelle whispered as she came to a stop. “That’s Jeon Jungkook.”

Startled, you looked twice and saw she was right. You hadn’t recognized him without his bevy of followers, but Jeon Jungkook was known in the dance world. A child prodigy, he’d been on America’s Got Talent at age eleven and finished in second place. Following this, his family had moved to LA and he’d been in high demand for movies, music videos and performances ever since.

You remembered hearing he worked with Luna Jordan, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before now that he might be here.

Noelle cocked her head to one side. “He’s hot.”

“Noelle,” you hissed, trying to shush her.

“What!” A devious grin spread across her face. “Am I supposed to be blind, as well as mute?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Alright, everyone!” Miss Luna clapped her hands together. “I know everyone is excited for the weekend, but we unfortunately have an hour and a half together before then. Everyone spread out for warm-ups!”

A few people laughed, spreading out on the floor as class began. Noelle wriggled her eyebrows, pulling you towards the front in order to get the best spot. Hiding a smile, you ducked your head and settled beside her into a stretch.

Noelle was nearly as excited as you were for the opportunity to dance contemporary. Most of your classmates knew this to be your forte – you caught glances from the corner of your eye while you warmed up, trying not to let their attention get to your head.

Jimin was also near the front, although on the opposite side. You suspected your class was equally excited to see him perform – as talented as Jimin was at ballet, there was a reason you hadn’t thought he’d be at Russet this fall. Jimin’s strength in jazz and contemporary was unparalleled. You would’ve thought he’d gone to LA to become a dancer like Jungkook.

Speaking of whom – Jungkook really was attractive; that much couldn’t be denied. He had dark, wavy hair pulled into a bun and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. When he glanced up from his stretch, his gaze somehow found yours and he smiled.

Eyes widening, you stared until you caught sight of Jimin behind him. Glancing between the two of you, Jimin’s expression soured before he looked away. Lips parting, you felt the sudden urge to say something, but there was too much distance between you.

“You ready?” Miss Luna called, an upbeat pop song blasting from the stereo. “Let’s go!”

She launched into isolations, leaving the rest of the class to follow. Warm-ups passed quickly and before you knew it, you were gathered at center to learn the combination. Miss Luna’s style was right up your alley. The steps came easily and, once you’d learned the whole chorus, she left you alone to practice.

You were helping Ari with a difficult move when you caught sight of Sabrina as you turned. She’d positioned herself near the back, which had to be a first. Usually, Sabrina was front and center to allow for maximum receipt of teacher praise.

The decision to stand near the back could’ve been strategy – sometimes, dancers did that at conventions. Conventions were giant weekends of competition with teachers from all over the globe who taught master classes to hundreds of dancers in hotel ballrooms and convention centers. Space at the front tended to be limited, so some stayed at the back, where there was more room to dance and be seen. You had a greater likelihood to capture the teacher’s attention when you had the room to do incredible leaps.

Sabrina’s decision didn’t seem strategic, though. While you watched, Sabrina stumbled transitioning from one move to the next. A brief twinge of pity went through you.

It was easy enough to spot ballerinas dancing anything but ballet. Although ballet was the root of modern westernized dance, it could be hard to translate into other styles. Ballet was more rigid than contemporary, jazz or hip-hop. In ballet, each position was defined, individual style was limited, and dancers were expected to all look the same. Standing out in the corps de ballet was equally frowned upon as missing an entrance.

Not that ballet wasn’t important to all dance styles, mind you. Even hip-hop dancers took ballet to improve their balance, core strength and general understanding of the body. There was an element of individuality in other dance styles, though, which lacked in ballet. Contemporary and hip-hop dancers were expected to have relentless technique all while creating their own, unique flair.

Just looking at Sabrina you could clearly see the holes. She was trying so hard to emulate the moves of Miss Luna, she was kind of missing the point. When Miss Luna did a certain flick of the wrist, it wasn’t a defined part of the choreography, but rather an individual choice.

Without thinking, you took a step forward – only to stop. Sabrina wouldn’t want your help; she’d already made that abundantly clear. Besides, you knew her friend Katie to be a contemporary dancer. She could help Sabrina and yet, when you looked, you saw Katie practicing near the front with Jungkook.

Jungkook obviously knew the steps, since this was probably the tenth time he’d learned the combination. Dance teachers often did that – selected a dancer to attend classes with them, traveling to different cities to demonstrate the combination and help when they weren’t free.

Before you could decide whether to help Sabrina, Miss Luna clapped her hands again.

“Let’s do groups!” she declared. “I’ll count you off into groups of four, and each group will showcase. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question so much as an announcement. The rest of the class nodded, waiting while Miss Luna counted you off. You ended up in the same group as Irene, Paulo and a few others. Jimin and Noelle were in the group two, while Sabrina was in the group after theirs.

Jogging off to the side, you waited while the first group took center. You were part of group four, which meant you’d be amongst the last to dance on the floor. When the music began, you closed your eyes and began to mark the combination. You tried not to focus on what anyone else was doing, but this became difficult once Noelle’s group stepped up.

Noelle had trained in jazz and contemporary, although she’d stopped in high school to focus mainly on ballet. Still, her artistry shone in her movement. She could definitely stand to loosen up a bit but was still one of the best in the bunch. You found yourself smiling when she landed a turn, silently cheering her on from the side.

While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.

Dropping to the ground, he rolled and arched as his forehead brushed wood. His quality of movement was breathtaking and for a moment, you felt like you were back in high school.

Suddenly returned to those dimmed auditoriums, you watched Jimin take the stage like an otherworldly being. His body seemed to move before your mind could comprehend. Barely did he finish one move before he was starting another, the steps flowing endlessly together like unhindered water. Although you knew the combination and knew how you would dance it, watching Jimin perform was a different experience entirely.

Ballet required dancers to stay on the beat but in contemporary, they were expected to lag. Extensions were all the more breathtaking when they clung to the last second, seeming as though the dancer might not make it before they caught up. Jimin was an expert in this, knowing exactly when to hang precariously over the edge and when to pull back.

Watching him dance, that pesky, strange something bloomed in your chest again.

Squashing this quickly, you looked away and resumed marking the combo. The end of the song was improvisation though and, unable to stop yourself, you found your attention drifting to Jimin again. He was ridiculously beautiful – you nearly didn’t hear when Miss Luna called for them to stop. As she turned off the music, she applauded the group while they walked from the floor.

Breathing heavily, Noelle came to a stop alongside you and – somewhat guiltily, since you hadn’t been watching – you gave her a high-five.

“That was awesome!” you said with a grin. “You definitely stood out in the group.”

Noelle snort-laughed. “Not with Jimin up there, but that’s okay. This is his specialty – and yours,” she added with a wink. “I’m psyched for group four.”

“Ah,” you groaned, rubbing your neck. “Too much pressure.”

Noelle laughed, shaking her head as group three took the floor. Both of you fell silent to watch, your curious gaze finding Sabrina in the back. Sabrina looked almost nervous; an emotion which seemed out of place on her features. It made her look almost human.

As soon as the music began, you stifled a wince. Sabrina stood out from the group, and not in a good way. She had the combination down but moved with a woodenness you would’ve expected from someone half her age. It was enough for you to glance at Miss Luna, wondering if she had noticed.

“Wow,” Noelle whispered, looking almost gleeful. “Sabrina is terrible.”

“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.

“What? After everything she’s done? After everything she’s said?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Sabrina deserves this.”

Despite privately agreeing, you couldn’t help but feel bad as Sabrina continued. Not wanting to watch any longer, you turned towards the front and resumed marking the combo. As soon as Miss Luna cut the music and polite clapping ensued, you turned back around.

It was time for group four. A shaky, sick feeling entered your stomach as you walked to center. So many eyes were on you, but it had been so long since you danced contemporary. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were as good as people seemed to imagine. Surrounded by so many dancers at Russet, surely your own talent would pale in comparison.

As soon as the music began though, everything faded. Insecurities slipping away, a lightness entered your chest as, eyes falling shut, you slowly inhaled.

Taking a step forward, you opened your eyes and began.

To you, dance had several phases. The first was learning, where you memorized each step and put them in order. The second was understanding, where your muscle memory began to take over and the combination felt smoother. The final phase, performance, was when you thought not of the steps, and were free to just dance.

This was your favorite phrase. In this phase, your mind separated from your body, leaving you only with sweat and emotion. Dance was the only art form composed solely of the body. An odd combination of physical strength and artistic beauty, it was both a testament to human capability and human emotion.

Losing yourself in the music, you ebbed and flowed through the combination until the choreography ended and improvisation began. Finally, you let go and held nothing back. Raw, unbridled passion poured out as you lost sight of yourself, so consumed by the movement.

When the song finally finished and you came to a stop, you were panting for breath. Glancing up, the first person you saw was Jimin.

He stood off to one side, leaning casually against the rungs of the barre, but his expression was anything but. Focused on you, his gaze had turned dark in a way which made you catch your breath.

Miss Luna clapped both hands once again, returning your attention to her. Blinking, Jimin shook his head and in your peripheral, you saw him straighten.

“Very good!” Miss Luna scanned the group. “I know our time is nearly at and end, but why don’t we have a few students come out and demonstrate?”

Again, this was fairly common in master classes. After learning the combination, teachers would often single out students to perform as examples. It wasn’t always the students with the best technique who got chosen. Oftentimes, it was as much for passion and performance quality.

Taking a step forward, Miss Luna began to call out names. You were one of the first – setting your water down, you jogged back to center. Jimin was the next person called, then Noelle, much to your excitement. Jungkook was also instructed to join on the floor.

Turning the lights halfway down, Miss Luna pressed play and let you improvise until the combination began. Jungkook started dancing and honestly, he was beautiful, but you couldn’t linger on him for long.

Catching sight of Jimin again, you were once more transported to earlier times. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called out together. Oftentimes, this had happened at conventions but back then, your mind had been too clouded to see him for who he was.

You’d always wanted to beat him in high school, but now, you were consumed by the oddest desire to see him do well.

Glancing up, Jimin caught your gaze and he smiled – but then, the combination began.

By the time you were finished, you could hardly catch your breath but somehow, you felt the most alive you’d been in ages. Back in your own element, surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world – this was what you’d imagined when you came to Russet.

People around the room clapped, some of them begrudgingly. You got the impression many of your classmates weren’t used to not being chosen. As you walked from the floor, you saw surprisingly, Sabrina wasn’t amongst them.

Instead, Sabrina simply looked tired – as though she’d tried her best and it hadn’t been enough. You knew that look. You sympathized with that look.

The look lingered in the back of your mind while you packed up your things and listened to Noelle discuss Halloween tomorrow. When she mentioned Ari had decided to visit her family this weekend, an idea began to form in your mind.

“Wait,” you interrupted, looking up. “Ari can’t come tomorrow?”

Noelle shook her head. “Her brother just turned eighteen, so her whole family is having a party or something.”

“So… her ticket is free, then?”

“Yes…” Noelle paused. “Why? Y/N, what are you planning?”

“Okay. Hear me out,” you said as you shrugged on your coat. It was cold enough now for the coat to be necessary.

Noelle sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, I’m listening.”

Glancing away, you saw Sabrina packing her things on the other side of the room. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you returned to Noelle.

“What if we invited Sabrina?”

Noelle snorted. “Pass.”

“Noelle,” you laughed, reaching out for her arm. “Come on! Do you really think she’s doing anything for Halloween?”

“Probably not. And that’s her own fault.”

“Maybe,” you said, glancing at Sabrina once more. “But how could it hurt? We have an extra ticket, there’ll be tons of people tomorrow night. She’ll probably say no – at least this way, you can claim a write-off on your way into heaven!”

Noelle upper lip twitched. “Oh, is that how write-offs work?”

“Well, I can only assume.”

Finally, she laughed. “Ugh, fine. You can invite her – but only because it’s Halloween, and Halloween is a time for peace. And slutty costumes.”

“Thanks, babe,” you said, squeezing her waist in a one-armed hug.

Sighing exaggeratedly, Noelle waved aside your thanks. Hiking your bag higher, you began to make your way across the room. As you closed in on Sabrina, you began to rethink your choice. It had been nearly a month since anything bad had happened between you but still, you found yourself feeling wary. As tough as you pretended to be, rejection hurt you just as much as the next person.

Still, dancing with Jimin had been a reminder of just how bitter your relationship used to be. If that relationship could change, you had to imagine things with Sabrina could, too.

Coming to a stop at her bag, you waited for her to look up. When she finally did, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“What?” Sabrina asked, sounding defensive. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You couldn’t really blame her for her suspicion. Had your situations been reversed, you would’ve been equally distrustful. It was likely Sabrina thought you were coming over to gloat, or say something to do with class today. Another twinge of pity went through you as Sabrina zipped her bag shut to stand.

“I just wanted to know what you were doing tomorrow,” you said, trying to smile. “Noelle has an extra ticket to a Halloween party, and we thought you might like to come.”

Sabrina stared. “What?”

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” you said, a bit slower. “You know – when we were kids, it was all about costumes and candy. Now, it’s about costumes and booze?”

Sabrina failed to crack a smile. “And you want… me to come to this party?”

Something about the way she said this made you sad, as though she genuinely thought this might be a joke. As though at any moment, someone might jump out and yell SIKE.

“Yeah,” you said, softening a little. “Look – it’s not a big deal if you can’t make it. A bunch of our class is going though, so we thought of you.”

Sabrina hesitated, then glanced at the door. “Okay,” she said, looking back. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come.”

Stifling your surprise, you nodded. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow before the club. Wear a costume,” you added before walking away. “Noelle said it’s required.”

“Alright,” Sabrina said, so quiet you almost missed it.

Walking away, you were nearly at the door when Jungkook popped up before you. Flashing a smile, he fixed a loose strand of hair away from his face. Feet fumbling to a stop, you could only stare.

“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.

Unable to find the words, you blinked in response. The way Jungkook danced had been so confident, you’d only assumed this to be his off-floor persona, as well. Hearing him sound shy was unexpected.

Also – you hadn’t expected him to know your name.

“I… yeah, that’s me.” Shaking your head, you smiled. “Jungkook, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m such a big fan of your dancing. It was great to take class with you today.”

Without meaning to, a laugh escaped your lips. Jungkook stared at you, baffled until you quickly waved him off.

“Oh, no – no! Sorry,” you said. “I’m not laughing at you! I’m just laughing at the ridiculousness of you saying you’re a fan of me.”

Some of Jungkook’s wariness disappeared, and a small smile played across his lips.

“Well, I am.” His grin widened. “I used to assist on the convention circuit, too and I remember you being called out all the time. You and Jimin,” he added, glancing across the room.

You looked, too and saw Jimin still packing his things. His back was stiff, pointedly not looking in your direction. Lingering on him a moment, you returned to Jungkook.

“Still,” you said with a laugh. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say we took class together when you’re the teacher’s assistant.”

“True.” Jungkook paused. “Well, next time you’re in LA, let’s fix that. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we can take a class together.”

Despite yourself, your brows raised. It was harmless, but Jungkook was definitely flirting with you. He was attractive, sure and seemed nice, but he lived in LA and you had a boyfriend. You should probably leave before things had the chance to go any further. The last thing you needed was another complication. Adjusting your bag, you gave Jungkook a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said before turning away.

Jungkook chuckled from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

As you joined Noelle at the door, she stared over your shoulder.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop.

Noelle’s gaze moved to yours in disbelief. “How?” she demanded as you exited class. “How do you have all these men just… tripping over themselves for you?”

Heat rising to your face, you shook your head. “That’s – I,” you sputtered. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Am I?” Noelle grinned. “First Jimin, now Jungkook… and all this while having a boyfriend.”

“I… you... Jimin is not tripping over himself for me!”

Both her brows shot way, way up. “Is that the only part of the sentence you took objection to?”

“Shut up,” you groaned and shoved her in the side.

Noelle laughed but nodded. “Alright, fine! I’ll stop. Did Sabrina say she’ll come?”

“She did.”

“Great. I still don’t like her,” Noelle said, pushing open the door. “But I guess you’re right, I have an extra ticket. It’s nice to be nice.”

You laughed, pulling your coat tighter as you walked outside. “You’re a saint.”

While you walked, your phone dinged and pulling this from your pocket, you saw a notification on Instagram. Jeon_Jungkook97 has followed you.

Shaking your head, you returned this to your jacket as you continued. While it was nice of Jungkook to compliment your dancing, his approval didn’t mean as much as certain other peoples had. This realization stuck in your mind, making you wonder about Noelle’s teasing jibe.

She had said Jimin flirted with you, but that wasn’t true – was it? You would have known if Jimin were flirting. It was hard to pick out though, since Jimin was friendly with everyone. That was just who he was; as he’d said earlier, he liked to be liked. A note of uncertainty entered your thoughts though, recalling the ballet class with your chest pressed to his. Shoving this away, you forced yourself to focus on the upcoming weekend.

Halloween was a night for fun, for letting loose and enjoying yourself with your friends. You refused to let the night be spoiled by any lingering feelings – either from you, or towards you.

The next night was perfect Halloween weather.

Chilly, but not cold enough to risk snow falling. There were several Halloweens from childhood you could recall trick-or-treating with a winter coat flung over your costume because the temperature had dropped below freezing.

You, Noelle and Irene showed up to Paulo’s house around 8:00 PM, shivering a little while you stood on his doorstep. Paulo was one of the few freshmen who lived off-campus, having known several upperclassmen before he came to Russet. The brownstone he lived in was cute, with window boxes you imagined hosted flowers in the summer.

Tugging your pink and black minidress down, you adjusted your bow as Paulo opened the door.

Blinking, he took in your costumes. “The Powerpuff girls!” He cheered, raising an arm overhead. “Try not to take down any of the villains upstairs, yeah?”

“No promises,” said Irene, flicking hair over her shoulder.

Entering the house, you heard thumping bass from an apartment upstairs. Paulo lived on the third floor and as you climbed the steps, the music grew louder. It took Paulo two tries to shove open the door – “warped wood,” he explained – but once you were inside, you saw familiar faces.

“The Powerpuff girls!” Jasmine cried, jumping up from the couch. “Finally! Thank god – can you take down Eamon? He came here dressed as a potato, or something.”

“It’s an avocado!” Eamon shouted from the kitchen. He was dressed in a round, green costume with a halo overhead. “I’m ‘holy guacamole’ – get it?” he said, pointing at the halo.

Jasmine stared at him a moment. “That’s terrible. Worse than mine,” she said with a wave down her body. “I’ve been Princess Jasmine for the past five Halloweens. It’s easy to remember and I already have the outfit.”

Laughing, you shrugged off your coat and added this to a pile on the couch. “It’s a classic,” you agreed as you turned.

Noelle had managed to procure at least twenty tickets to the party tonight, so a lot of your freshman Russet class was in attendance. Including Sabrina, who stood in the corner, talking to Louis over cups of red punch. She looked up when you entered, pausing before she gave a small wave. Surprised by the gesture, you did the same.

“No.” Noelle groaned, coming to a stop alongside you. When you looked, you saw she’d already removed her coat. “Tell me Sabrina didn’t come to this party dressed as a ballerina.”

“We did invite her at the last minute,” you laughed. “Hard to find a good Halloween costume in a day.”

“Hey,” Noelle argued. “There’s no we here. You were the one who invited her, and you’ll be the one to accept the consequences should your social experiment fail.”

“Done,” you agreed. “Speaking of social experiments though, I’m ready to get drunk tonight. Where’s the alcohol?”

“Kitchen!” Irene called, brushing past. “Or – that’s where Brian disappeared to when we entered, so I can only assume.”

Telling Noelle you’d be back with drinks, you wound through the room towards where Irene had pointed. The kitchen was tiny, on par with most city apartments. There was only room enough for one or two people, so you were lucky it was deserted when you entered.

Surveying the counter, you found the usual party staples. A bowl of red punch, a bunch of beer and various liquor bottles with chasers. Skipping over the communal punch bowl, you reached for a bottle of diet coke and coconut rum.

“Oh,” a voice said as they entered the kitchen. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were in here.”

Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.

He’d dyed his hair black – that was the first thing you noticed. Jimin’s hair was no longer blonde, but completely dark. His outfit confused you at first – a frilly, white blouse with slicked-back hair and dark trousers – until you saw his bright red contacts and the dribble of blood at his mouth.

“A vampire,” you said, finally recovering your voice. Scanning his body, you frowned. “Where are the teeth, though?”

Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.

“Huh?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.

Cheeks heating a little – your dress was pretty short – you repeated yourself. “The teeth,” you said, pointing at your own lips. “Don’t vampires have fangs?”

“Oh, right.” Jimin dug around in his pocket – fuck, were his trousers tight – to produce twin fangs. “I took them off when I got here. They’re really hard to talk in.”

“Go on then, Park,” you said with a grin. “Put them in.”

“One second.” Twisting to face the wall, Jimin popped them in his mouth. Turning around, he bared his teeth. “Sexy?”

With the teeth in though, the word came out more like shex-shie and you burst into laughter. “So sexy,” you agreed, reaching past him for a cup.

Jimin stiffened when your arm brushed his front. Unbidden, you thought about what Noelle had said – Jimin had been flirting with you. Pulling away, you resumed making your drinks and tried not to look in his direction.

Even so, you remained aware of his presence. Jimin inched his way behind you, reaching for the whiskey on the other side. His arm brushed your elbow as he went, right knee nudging yours in an intimate gesture.

Glancing up from the counter, you accidentally caught his gaze. Despite your earlier joking, he did look sexy. Devastatingly so. Even the blood-red contacts weren’t enough to deter the shiver which ran down your spine.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, you grabbed both cups and pulled back.

“So, what’re you drinking?” you asked.

You decided it was best to steer the conversation away from how sexy Park Jimin was or was not.

Seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil, Jimin poured whiskey into his cup. “Whiskey and coke. Can you pass me that bottle?”

“Sure,” you said, leaping at the chance to prevent him from walking past you again. “Here you go.”

Pushing this forward, you watched Jimin pour both drinks all the way to the brim. He paused near the end, staring into the depths before he looked up. He seemed to be warring with something, debating whether or not to speak whatever was on his mind.

“So…” He paused. “Do you know Jungkook, or something?”

You blinked. “Jungkook…?”

“You know, Miss Luna’s assistant. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh! Jungkook. No, I don’t really know him.”

“You were talking to him at the end of class, though?”

Hearing the curiosity in his voice, both your brows raised. “And?”

“And nothing,” Jimin said, sounding uncomfortable. “I just… I didn’t know you knew him, that’s all.”

“I mean, I don’t.” You paused. “But even if I did, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” His cheeks began to redden. “It’s just – ah, never mind. We don’t have that great a history, that’s all. He’s kind of the reason I’m at Russet this year.”

You stared at Jimin a moment. “Wow, what a tragedy,” you said, stifling a laugh. “To have been forced to attend one of the most prestigious dance institutions in the world.”

His upper lip twitched. “It’s not that. I was deciding between attending Russet and accepting a job offer out west. I was asked to join this pop star on tour… anyways, Jungkook’s never liked me much. It’s a long story.” Jimin’s brow furrowed. “My offer was rescinded at the last minute. The artist never said why, but I always got the feeling he had something to do with it.”

You stared at Jimin a moment, unsure how to respond. Jungkook hadn’t seemed like that kind of person, but you supposed you’d only talked to him for a few minutes. If that was true, what happened to Jimin sucked and yet, the next words from your mouth nearly had you face-palming.

“And here I thought I was your biggest rival, Park,” you said.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you… jealous, Y/N?”

He sounded almost pleased by the notion, which sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.

“Not at all,” you said quickly, turning back to your drinks.

Jimin made a soft tsk-ing sound, as though he didn’t believe you.

“That sucks,” you continued, determined to change the subject. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all for the best, though. Things happen for a reason, right?”

Looking up, you caught Jimin’s stare. He didn’t look immediately away and you got the oddest sensation he meant more than what he said. Hastily, you pushed this feeling aside, clutching your drinks as you entered the main room. Jimin followed close behind, two cups in his hands.

“When did you get here?” you asked. “Been here long?”

Jimin shook his head. “Nah. Hoseok and I got here like, ten minutes ago. He should be around here somewhere, he –”

“Y/N!”

You looked up just in time to see Hoseok, Jimin’s roommate, barreling towards you.

“It’s been so long!” Crushing you to his chest, Hoseok wrapped you in a hug. “Hope Jimin isn’t boring you to death,” he stage-whispered before he pulled away.

“Just for that.” Jimin arched a brow. “Both these drinks are for me.”

“No – wait, wait. I’m sorry!” Hoseok pouted. “Hand over the drink, Park. It’s been the longest fucking week.”

Jimin grinned and relented, handing Hoseok his cup as you laughed. Hoseok was a newer friend, but he was close to Jimin, so he’d gradually bled into your latest gatherings. Despite not being on the ballet track, most of the dancers at Russet knew of him. Hoseok had that way about him.

Glancing down at your outfit, Hoseok held up a finger. “Let me guess – Blossom,” he said, turning to scan the room. “Which means… aha! Irene is Bubbles and Noelle is Buttercup. Makes sense.”

“And you are…” Pausing, you squinted at his outfit. “Someone at the spa?”

“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “Honestly, I just wanted to wear a bathrobe.”

Said bathrobe was paired with only boxers, the front of the robe open to display his toned abs. The costume didn’t surprise you, based on past interactions with Hoseok.

Casually, he twirled the robe tie in a circle. “Impressive, no?” Hoseok glanced away. “Whoa, wait – they have beer pong? See you all later!”

Hurrying off, he left you alone with Jimin. Shaking your head, you glanced in his direction and saw Jimin down his whole drink. Arching a brow, you were about to ask why when Irene called your names from across the room.

“Y/N!” She waved her hands. “Jimin! Get over here, you two – we need more for flip cup!”

You found yourself pulled in this direction despite your insistence you didn’t do well under pressure. Jimin ended up at the other end of the table and you lost sight of him when you started to play, paired with Jasmine for a partner.

By the end of the first round, you discovered you weren’t as horrible a player as you’d imagined. Then someone suggested mixed drinks for the second round, and things became fuzzier. There were more people present than just current students of Russet. One of Paulo’s roommates knew Seokjin, so you saw him in the room, along with Sana.

You chatted with both over the course of the evening, in addition to a guy who’d recently debuted on Broadway, Kim Taehyung. Apparently, there was already buzz around him for a Tony. Taehyung was nice, but it was sometime during this conversation you realized how tipsy you were. Apparently, not drinking for several months and then going ham made for very low tolerance.

Collapsing onto the couch, you joined Irene and Brian’s conversation. In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Noelle – a terrible flip cup player, she’d roped Hoseok into giving her private lessons, but these seemed to be going terribly. Or perhaps very well, given how much the two of them were laughing.

You completely forgot about Jimin until you spotted him across the room talking to Sabrina. Seeing them together, you straightened. Both seemed fairly comfortable, which struck you as odd. Since that morning in Jimin’s dorm, you hadn’t really seen them hang out together.

Despite this, Jimin was laughing at something Sabrina had said. Tearing your gaze away, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. It didn’t matter who Jimin spoke to, or even who he decided to go home with tonight. He was your dance partner and friend, nothing more and besides – you had a boyfriend.

Blinking, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone. To your disappointment, you’d gotten no texts from Finn since this morning. You assumed he was still at his party but didn’t know for sure. Shooting him a text, hey, you waited for a response and when you got none, returned your phone to your purse.

Across the room, you heard Noelle yell your name. “Y/N!” She cupped her mouth with both hands. “We need another person for flip cup!”

Laughing, you pushed yourself from the couch and were immediately roped into your fourth game of the night. The night blurred again after that, turning into a pleasant hum of conversation and booze. At some point, Ubers were called to bring you to the club. As you rushed downstairs, you realized you forgot your coat as soon as you stepped outside.

Shivering violently, you rubbed your arms and cursed yourself for poor foresight.

“Y/N?” Jimin came to a stop alongside you. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said through chattering teeth. “I-it’s fine, though. I’m fine!”

Jimin gave you a look. “Where’s Paulo?” he said, glancing around. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

“The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued, grabbing his sleeve to drag him towards the curb. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

Jimin sighed but gave in, following when you rushed to the grey SUV. Irene had claimed the front seat, so you and Jimin pulled open the middle door – Noelle and Hoseok were crowding behind you, so you and Jimin ended up together in the backseat.

Collapsed in a heap, you giggled as Jimin tried to squish himself in a corner. “Sorry,” he said, trying – and failing – to keep his knees separate.

“Jimin.” You snorted. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

Jimin’s lips parted, shocked, but you were already hoisting yourself over the middle seat. Draping your arms next to Noelle, you begged her to play your favorite song on the radio. Had you been more sober, you might’ve recognized your position to be precarious – perched on the edge of your seat, your ass hovered inches away from Jimin’s face.

Plopping back down, you glanced sideways at Jimin and found him frozen. Suddenly, you realized the visual he’d had.

“Um, so what happened to the teeth?” you blurted, determined to change the subject.

Jimin blinked and managed to meet your gaze. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

“That’s true.” Jimin arched a brow. “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you,” you retorted. “My blood is about half alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of a silly vampire made you laugh – even more so when you pictured said vampire as Jimin. He seemed much too coherent for your liking right now.

“A silly vampire, huh?” Jimin looked on, amused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

“We’re here!” squealed Noelle, throwing open the door.

A blast of cold air hit you and you shivered, wishing you’d worn your coat. Jimin’s gaze remained steady on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said lowly. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said dryly, lifting a brow as you brushed past. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Jimin chuckled before he followed suit, although you cursed as soon as you left the car. He was correct. It was freezing, even with your alcohol-induced blanket.

“Come on!” you yelped, following Noelle towards the entrance.

Bypassing the line, Noelle walked straight towards the bouncer and showed him her phone. He nodded and waved her past, counting your friend group who followed. Not everyone from Paulo’s place had gone to the club, but enough for you to make quite the entrance.

“Y/N!” Noelle doubled back to link arms with you. “Come on – this way! That guy’s going to show us to our table.”

“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.

Tables in a club on Halloween night were ridiculously expensive, but it seemed Noelle had downplayed her brother’s connections. Your group was led right to the front of the upper balcony, getting a coveted spot overlooking the dance floor below.

This was undeniably the coolest club you’d been in. Not that you’d been in many, mind you, but this one had to take the cake. A half-circle of tables took up the top floor, with twin staircases descending to the main room below. Most of the lower floor was for dancing, although you saw additional tables pushed to the sides. Fluorescent bars and dance platforms were dotted throughout and above all was the DJ booth, blasting the latest songs.

“Whoa,” you breathed.

Noelle grinned, squeezing your arm to pull you into the booth. As soon as you settled in, Jasmine leapt up and clapped her hands.

“I want to be in one of those!” she said, pointing to a glowing cage at the center of the dance floor.

“Oo, me too!” Irene leapt up to join her.

“Me, three!” said Paulo, clambering out of the booth.

“Awesome.” Irene beamed and glanced your way. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

The idea was tempting for a moment, but then Finn flashed through your mind. You highly doubted he’d be on board with you gyrating for a room full of strangers without him. Somewhat dejectedly, you plopped back on the bench.

“That’s okay,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned but nodded, following the rest when they left for the stairs. About half the group went, clearing out the table while you stared at the dance floor.

Jimin slid into the bench alongside you. “You don’t want to dance?”

Startled, you glanced in his direction. While you watched, Jimin began to undo his cuffs, casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His hair, which had been slicked back at the start of the night, was starting to fall. Several dark strands hung over his forehead, although this only seemed to make the look more appealing.

“No,” you said, crossing your legs. “I just… don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You laughed. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

“It is when you’re at the club with all dancers,” Jimin pointed out, nodding towards the floor.

Following his gaze, you saw Jasmine dancing full-out in a lit-up cage. She wasn’t so much gyrating as she was creating choreography on the fly. The mere mortals around her looked on in awe. Fighting a smile, you returned to Jimin.

“Okay, that does look like fun,” you admitted. “The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”

“In the cab,” you said, leaning closer in order to be heard. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um, the night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin stared at you a moment, as though contemplating something important. Abruptly, he stood and held out a hand. You blinked at this like he’d offered a football.

“What are you doing?” you said, glancing up.

“Taking you down to the dance floor.” Jimin retracted said hand. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

“Hey!” In disbelief, your mouth fell open. “You said you’d forget all about that!”

His smile turned impish. “Seriously, we can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

“The sprinkler?” Starting to laugh, you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah. My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

Snorting, you shoved him in the arm before following Jimin to the dance floor. It didn’t take you long to spot your other friends, clustered near the front and around the DJ booth.

“Y/N!” Noelle cheered, breaking off from the pack. “You made it!”

She nearly spilled her drink while she danced, catching herself just in time as she spun around. You grinned, entering the circle with Jimin by your side. He did, in fact, pull out the criss-cross – Hoseok joined in and soon, there was a Fortnite dance battle between them. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve seen a TikTok dance-off between two semi-professional dancers.

This ended with both declaring mutual defeat, and Hoseok disappearing to buy the next round. Noelle shimmied her way over to Jasmine, accepting the hand given to stand on the platform.

You laughed at their ridiculous dance moves, choosing instead to stay on the ground. The crowd around you had thinned since you’d joined. Eamon disappeared a few minutes later, saying something about needing a drink upstairs. Before long, Irene had joined Jasmine and Noelle on the platform, leaving you alone with Jimin on the floor.

Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable, but Jimin was so good at putting you at ease. Determined to keep you in the present, he came up with more and more complicated dance moves which had you snorting with laughter.

On a particularly flamboyant spin, Jimin accidentally smacked the drink from someone’s grasp. Blue vodka splattered everywhere, drenching its owner – a burly man in leather who snarled in frustration.

Looking up, he met your gaze and his eyes narrowed.

“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.

Grabbing Jimin by the arm, you dragged him into the crowd.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin tried to twist around. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

Once there was suitable distance between you and the guy, you came to a stop. Laughing so hard you nearly fell over, you turned sideways to face him.

Bodies pressed against you from every side but rather than feel claustrophobic, all you could think about was Jimin before you. His hair had become thoroughly mussed during the night and you fought the sudden desire to smooth it down.

Although your breath came hard, the club around you seemed to slow. The music somehow had narrowed to pinpricks, a heady thump of bass while everything dulled.

What you should’ve done was taken a step back – but you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze drifted across his face. Jimin stared back, something intense to his gaze you couldn’t quite name. Breath caught in your throat, his eyes dropped to your lips.

Before you could react, someone bumped into you from behind, sending you careening forward. Jimin caught you easily, one arm around your waist and your chest pressed to his. You could feel every hard line of his body, his thigh wedged between your legs while you grasped at his arms. Heart thudding traitorously against your ribcage, you tried to ignore the emotions which followed.

It was impossible.

The song playing was slower, sexier than the one which had inspired the dance-off. Without meaning to, your weight subtly shifted. This caused your hips to move against his as Jimin quietly sucked in a breath. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. His grip on you tightened, gaze heady with desire and something more. Before you could second-guess what you were doing, you moved your hips again – this time, on purpose.

Jimin’s eyes darkened. Without looking away, his grip on you tightened as he slowly dragged you up his thigh. Suddenly breathless, your hands gripped him tighter while your eyes fluttered shut. The heat of his body on yours, the faint smell of cologne and sweat, the tension in his limbs and the knowledge of what he could do to you – it all left your head spinning.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, low in your ear.

You weren’t used to him saying your name like that.

You were used to him saying your name in every other way, but not that. Sharp with dancer’s critique, brusque with instruction, light with teasing – but not like something heavy was lodged in his throat. Maybe his heart.

Panicked, your eyes flew open.

What were you doing? This wasn’t some random stranger and this sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend. This was Jimin. Stumbling backwards, you broke from his hold. Jimin seemed equally stunned, staring at you on the dance floor.

“I have to go,” you blurted and whirled around.

Shoving into the crowd, you heard Jimin emit a soft groan. Despite this, he didn’t immediately pursue, for which you were grateful. Stumbling through strangers, strobe lights flashed brightly overhead. You squeezed between someone dressed as a go-go and another person dressed as a werewolf. Skidding to a stop on the edge of the floor, you scanned the room and saw no one from Russet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jimin now followed. Panicking again, you began to move. Beside one of the bars, you spotted a hallway labeled restrooms. Heading in this direction, you quickly disappeared inside the door marked women.

Once inside, you locked yourself in a stall, lowered the lid and sat down. Head in hands, you slowly exhaled. You were a coward; that much was clear. Jimin was probably out there looking for you right now, but you’d rather hide in a bathroom than face him.

The fluorescent lighting overhead was too bright – it made you feel overexposed. After a long moment, you fished around in your purse and pulled out your phone. Flipping to your thread with Finn, you saw he’d sent no response since your text. Complete and utter silence.

Heart cracking a little, you slid this in your bag and stared at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. When you imagined you and Finn at college, you’d always pictured you together, attending the same parties and sharing the same adventures. Tonight though, had proven to be anything but that. Finn hadn’t once glanced at his phone judging by the unread mark next to your text.

Dimly, you wondered why you weren’t more upset about this. It should bother you that Finn hadn’t called or even texted throughout the day. Sure, he was out with friends, but so were you and you’d reached out – as soon as you thought this, your heart sank.

You weren’t sure you could call Jimin a friend after what had just happened.

Sure, you’d only danced, and it had only been for a second but still, guilt bloomed behind your ribcage. The idea of Finn doing the same thing with anyone else made your heart twist. You wouldn’t feel that way if what you’d done wasn’t wrong.

Groaning out loud, you lowered your head to your hands. After several minutes, you felt calm enough to stand and pretend-flush the toilet. As you exited the stall, you walked to the sink and began washing your hands. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a million things ran through your mind.

Clearly, the situation with Jimin was worse than you’d thought. The spark you’d felt kept returning, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Maybe the only solution was to find a new partner. The very idea made your heart sink, but you couldn’t deny things had gotten out of hand.

Before you could seriously consider the option, the door to the bathroom flung open and banged against the wall. Sabrina stormed in, wiping both eyes with the heel of her hand. You froze, staring at her in the mirror but she didn’t seem to notice your presence.

When she finally lowered her hands and took a deep breath, she saw you and froze.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other and then – you coughed. Awkwardly, you began to dry your hands.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.

Sabrina stiffened. “I’m fine,” she muttered, walking to the sink.

You watched her wash her hands, struggling and failing to control her expression. Sabrina’s hair was a mess and you stared, wondering where she’d been. You hadn’t seen her since you’d entered the club, but had assumed she’d stayed on the second floor.

“Are you sure?” you pressed, remembering your night at the other club. “You know, you can –”

“Will you… just stop.” Sabrina closed her eyes. “Will you … stop pretending like we’re friends, or something?”

Struck with disbelief, you could only stare. “I… are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” You shook your head. “Just wow.”

Her lips tightened and finally, she whirled around. “What?” Sabrina demanded. “What is it?”

The look in her eyes was familiar. Her frustrated, angry look was mirrored in your expression, but you found you didn’t care. Sabrina was clearly going through something, but her rudeness to you was the final straw. Tired from Finn, Jimin and the constant pressure you were both under, something about Sabrina’s words made you break.

“Why are you always such a… such a bitch,” you blurted, hurling the word like a knife. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you always act like you hate me so much?”

Sabrina’s upper lip curled. “Why do you always think this is about you, Y/N? Maybe I just wanted one second of peace and instead, here you are. Like always.”

“Here I am, in the public restroom of a club we’re all at?”

“No. Here you are in my life,” she snapped, pushing herself from the sink. “People won’t talk to me? It’s because you’ve run your mouth about things you think I’ve done. I’m falling in the class ranks? It’s because you’re after my spot. Jimin doesn’t want to be my partner? It’s because of his feelings for you. I’m sick of turning around and always seeing you there!”

“Okay, but none of those things – I, Jimin doesn’t have feelings for me,” you sputtered.

Sabrina gave you a look. “Oh, please, Y/N.” Her laughter was harsh. “Why else would he turn me down?”

“Um, maybe because he’s a decent human being? Unlike yourself.”

“Great, yeah.” Sabrina glared. “Make me the bad guy again.”

“I’m not the one doing that,” you huffed. “You are. You want to blame me because no one wants to be your friend? Maybe try reaching out first. Maybe don’t talk shit about people behind their backs. And I’m improving because I’m taking extra lessons. No thanks to you, of course.”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad because I didn’t have time to give you lessons.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to explain why I’m improving and you’re not.”

Sabrina bristled. “Are you saying I don’t work hard, too?”

“No.” Mirthless, you laughed. “I know you work hard – maybe even as hard as I do. But you know what the big difference is between you and me?” you said, drawing yourself to your full height.

Sabrina’s eyes glimmered while she stared you down. Still, she retained her aloofness when she said, “What? What’s the big secret?”

“You think everyone’s out to get you,” you said, stepping closer. “You think not asking for help makes you stronger, but it’s the exact opposite. At least I’ve improved since the start of the year. What have you done?”

Not waiting for an answer, you pushed past Sabrina and walked out the door.

Shoving it wide, you entered the hallway. Dance music flooded your senses and you winced, remembering where you were and what you’d been doing. Luckily, Jimin was nowhere in sight. He must not have seen where you’d disappeared to.

Shoulders slumping, you pulled out your phone and dialed a number. Walking to the front, you concentrated on breathing while you waited for them to pick up. Coming to a stop beside coat check, you didn’t leave the club – a lesson you’d learned the hard way.

Noelle answered on the third ring. “Babe?” she yelled, barely audible over the din. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Are you…” Closing your eyes, you paused. “Can we leave?”

Noelle paused, then muffled her phone with one hand. “Irene!” you heard her yell. “You good to get a ride home for these people? Okay, cool. Bye!” Her phone became un-muffled. “Where are you, babe?”

After explaining your location, you hung up and hugged yourself with both arms. Noelle burst into view a few moments later, scanning the crowd like a mom on a mission. When she saw you, she rushed over – and you promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, no!” Pulling you into a hug, Noelle began to rub your back. “No, no, babe! Don’t cry! What’s going on? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Hearing Jimin’s words said by Noelle only made you cry harder. Wisely sensing this to be a problem not easily solved, Noelle continued rubbing your back while walking towards the exit.

The two of you went outside and, as luck would have it, saw a group of people arriving at the club. Noelle snagged their taxi, helping you in the backseat and giving the driver your address. As you settled against her, your head on her shoulder, Noelle kept rubbing your arm and waited for the tears to stop.

You weren’t really sure why you were crying.

Of course, Sabrina was terrible, as was the situation with Jimin, but it was more than that. Dancing with Jimin hadn’t caused problems in your relationship with Finn. There had been problems in your relationship Finn and so, feelings had crept in which led you to dance with Jimin.

More than that though, you couldn’t help but notice Noelle had come to your aid much faster than Finn ever had. Even Jimin had dropped everything when you asked, and he was someone you’d once called your enemy. Noelle had been having fun, but she’d cut her night short because you were upset. This knowledge crushed you and for the very first time, you realized your relationship with Finn might be unfixable.

Curled up on the backseat, you let yourself cry a bit more. You could be calm and rational in the morning, you decided but for now, you just felt defeated.

When you finally climbed into bed at your dorm at night, you looked at your phone and saw Finn still hadn’t texted.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin au #bts au #jimin writing #bts writing #jimin series #jimin e2l #bts series #bts e2l #jimin dance au #bts dance au

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retrievablememories · 3 years

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matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app.

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :)

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take.

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

��I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...”

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human.

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards.

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it��s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway.

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust.

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button.

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

302 notes · View notes

opossumanonymous · 3 years

Text

How did things get so messed up?

Warnings: Talk of murder, a single swear, Inko just sometimes thinks about murder, uh vigilante Izuku

Black Widow Inko! Part 2 featuring Dad Might vs Dad for One! This is honestly just Crack with a plot...

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It seemed like yesterday he was in that hospital room meeting his son for the first time. Inko holding their sons tiny body, tears welling in her eyes as she beckoned him closer.

He walked over with no hesitation fully ready to meet Izuku (The name chosen by Inko who got to pick after winning a bet).

Sitting down next to his tired wife he stared down at the infant in wonder. The tiny human they'd waited 9 months for was finally here. Hizashi almost didn't know how to act for a second, so caught up in looking at the tufts of green hair and freckles covering small cheeks.

Reaching out Hizashi gently caressed Izuku's little face with a single finger causing the baby to let out a coo. He grabbed his father's finger in his little fist nearly bringing the 200 year old man to tears.

If asked that's how that day went to Hizashi of course Inko remembers him nearly flooding the hospital room but Hizashi would never admit that.

Tears or not that day Hizashi knew he would protect them with his life so how....how did things get so messed up?!

How did he end up sitting across from his arch nemesis?!

How did Izuku out of everyone in Japan end up with one for all?!

And most importantly how did All Might end up seducing his goddess Inko?!?!

Seriously Hizashi just couldn't understand how she could be with such a lowlife, she must not know who he is.

Never before had Hizashi felt such a deep burning hatred for anyone.

Currently he was sitting on the couch in his and Inko's apartment while she and All Might sat on the adjacent couch. No one spoke until Inko finally cleared her throat.

"Toshi this is my ex hus-"

"Current Husband."

She looked at him with eyes full of fire and a voice full of venom as she spoke. "You forfeited that title the second you thought not calling for 12 years was a good idea."

"...."

She always knew what to say to shut him up especially when she was angry. One of the things that interested him in Inko at first was how unlike most she got incredibly smart when angry.

She also got more sadistic, he could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she calculated all the ways she could kill him.

In this house he was not the devil no, the cute green haired woman sitting across from him was. In fact the murderous aura around her was very concerning, not that he feared for his life with witnesses around. He knew she'd be angry but he'd hoped him getting on his knees and begging for forgiveness would work like last time.

Meanwhile Toshinori was on the verge of having a mental breakdown. At first when he walked into the apartment after a date night he was shocked to find none other than All for One standing in his living room. He quickly pushed Inko behind him ready to defend her against Japan's greatest villain.

While he no longer held one for all that wouldn't stop him from protecting his wife with all he had. How did All for One break out of tartarus anyway?

And just how did he look like this?

All for one looked the way he did before their battle where he smashed his upper face in. All for one, who last they spoke had no eyes, hair and barely a nose now had all of that back and even looked a few years younger.

Each and every person in this room was plotting how to kill someone. Thankfully this day they'd all walk away unscathed.

Mainly because they all had a secret to hide from eachother.

Inko didn't want Toshinori to know about her past, Toshinori didn't want Inko to know who her ex was, and Hizashi didn't want to anger his wife further by revealing any of her secrets. (He may have been criminally insane but he wasn't stupid)

After all one does not rat out their ex-assassin wife's past to her new husband who is also the ex-symbol of peace. Lest they both team up, beat your ass and throw you back in prison or just straight up murder you.

"Anyway Toshi this is my ex husband Hizashi, Izukus father, he left about 12 years ago with no contact or information."

"Oh come now darling those divorce papers weren't serious. I understand you're mad but I'm back and I promise nothing will keep me away this time."

The utter nerve of this guy he really wants to die today! He's lucky he stopped wearing ties years ago or else Inko would've been choked him to death!

"Tea. I'm going to go make some tea I'll be back soon." She said with a strained smile resisting the urge to rip out Hizashi's teeth.

After she left to the kitchen the atmosphere got even darker the two mortal enemies now left alone.

"So it wasn't enough that you destroyed my face and took my son as your successor, you just had to go and seduce my wife too!"

"Your wife! Did you not just hear her she divorced you?!"

"Yeah all because of you and your meddling if you hadn't destroyed my face putting me in comatose I would've been there for her and Izuku!"

All Might paused for a second realization hitting him like cold bucket of water. Before he got his composer back not wanting the enemy to get the upper hand.

"If you hadn't have been quirk smuggling and stealing classified documents I wouldn't have had to!"

"Oh so it's all entirely my fault?!" Hizashi scoffed "I bet she doesn't even know what you did to me does she?"

Toshinori stayed silent it was true she may have known who he was but she didn't know about his hand in her ex husband's absence.

He had no idea how lucky he was she didn't know or there would be two dead men walking instead of one.

"I take your silence as a yes then?" Hizashi was a little smug now.

"Not like you've told her who you really are." Hizashi frowned at this causing Toshinori to smile "I see I'm right as well."

Well he was only half right he never out right told Inko she figured it out on her own. But All Might didn't need to know that, after all no use making Inko even more upset then she already was.

Meanwhile in the kitchen Inko was trying to figure out how to shoot her ex from the kitchen without Toshinori noticing.

While she knew it was impossible without blowing her secret a woman could dream.

As the tea finally came to a boil she noted the distinct sound of her sons bedroom window opening and closing. Knowing her son was back from his nightly vigilantism only done on weekend nights per their agreement. She briefly considered pouring rat poison in Hizashi's serving but decided against it.

Not that the good for nothing scumbag didn't deserve it. But just scaring him would do for now unless Izuku didn't want him in his life. After all he was Izuku's father and Izuku deserved to choose whether he wanted him in his life or not.

Bringing back a tray with the tea she sat the cups down with an eerie look on her face. "Here you go Hizashi I made yours just how you like it!~" She said sweetly.

Yeah Hizashi isn't drinking that, no way she definitely must have done something to it. He hasn't survived the past 200 years to die like that, thankfully his lovely queen isn't good at holding her emotions in.

"Thankyou darling you're too kind." He said taking a cup but not drinking from it.

Toshinori on the other hand called her buff he knew she wouldn't do anything. As he drunk his own cup he remarked on how good it was, well atleast he didn't have to worry about no real or imaginary poison.

Toshinori really didn't know what to do he was having a mental crisis. Should he tell Inko and young Midoriya the truth about All for one or not say anything? The boy would be devastated and would he really want to fight his own father when the time came? He would never forgive himself if it caused Izuku mental pain.

But if he turned Hizashi in to the hero commission they wouldn't know it was him. But he'd still have to deal with them being distraught and possibly hating him for not telling them sooner. Plus everything might become public and there's no telling how many enemies All for one has made that would be out for blood.

This was bad, both his morals and heart clashed at the thought of hurting Izuku and Inko they both quickly became the family he never got to have.

Izuku even started calling him dad for crying out loud! What would he call him if he found out his idol and mentor was the one who separated him from his biological father?!

"We need to settle this once and for all." Inko finally said still annoyed and just wanting Hizashi out.

"Yes you're right we should Inko darling. I won't make this hard, I promise I only want to see my son. Perhaps he can sleepover at my place on the weekends?"

Toshinori paled at that, if he got young Midoriya alone there's no telling what that monster would do to the boy. He could kidnap him, take one for all, and lock him away forever. Toshinori couldn't let that happen deciding he'd rather tell both Inko and Izuku who 'Hizashi' really was.

"Yeah no I don't think so you can have supervised visits and you can take him somewhere if I'm available to go with."

Yeah Inko wasn't buying what her ex was selling she knew he'd have Izuku quirkless and vaulted if she left them alone.

Not to mention that would force her to try rescuing him leading to her being vaulted as well.

But together they could defeat him after all he couldn't fight them both at once.

Hizashi was about to open his mouth when all of a sudden a voice called from the hall.

"Dad?"

"Yes son?" Both men said in unison before looking at eachother with a glare.

Izuku just stood there frozen in shock as his step dad and biological father glared at eachother. He couldn't believe his eyes, even though he heard his father's voice he just thought his mom finally got him on the phone. But this is unreal he never thought in his wildest dreams his father would be in front of him again.

He gripped his plan shirt that had "shirt" written on it in big white letters. His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest at any moment, a million questions going through his mind.

He was so deep in thought he didn't hear his mom get up from the couch and approach him till he felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Sweetie are you okay?" His mom asked him worried.

The two men stopped glaring at eachother now focused on Izuku concerned for him.

Tears came to the greenettes eyes as his voice shook with joy. "Dad!"

Hizashi was then tackled by the boy, slight bits of green lighting appearing on him showing his small use of one for all. Despite Izukus small stature compared to his father's hulking one, Hizashi nearly doubled over feeling like he was punched.

His son was a strong boy, he lamented the years lost since his little green bean was no longer little.

Wrapping his arms around his son Japan's evilest villain patted Izukus head. Causing the ex-symbol of peace to go into a coughing fit, a waterfall of blood pouring from his mouth.

"Dad are you okay?!"

Pushing away from Hizashi Izuku went to check on Toshinori as Inko offered up a handkerchief. Taking it in gratitude Toshinori thanked his wife before reassuring Izuku he was okay. "Thankyou son I'm alright no need to worry." Giving his signature grin he ignored his enemies death glare.

All for One the demon emperor would never admit he's jealous of anyone especially his arch-nemesis. But seeing his son coddle that blonde theif made his blood boil.

"Well this will be a new experience I never thought you'd call someone else dad..." Hizashi said with a strained smile his mouth lighting up with fire for a second.

He could always burn the blonde homewreaker with his fire breath good thing that was the quirk he with.

"Oh I guess it will get really confusing calling you both dad. But what other alternative names for you both? Or I could just call one dad and the other something else...maybe papa could work?" Izuku muttered suddenly, scratching the back of his head.

Both men looked at eachother realizing this could be the deciding factor. They knew that whoever got papa would win, after all it was the cuter of the two choices.

"Alright it's decided then!" Izuku claped his hands together a wide grin growing on his face. Both men sitting in anticipation at the boys verdict. The two looking like they were on a high stakes game show as sweat trickled down their foreheads.

"I'll call you dad" Izuku pointed at Hizashi "and I'll call you papa!" He then pointed to Toshinori.

Toshinori felt like he could do a cheer, his crops were watered, his stomach was back, his scares gone, everything in the universe was right.

That was until he looked over at All for One who he was sure would definitely kill him now if he wasn't going to before. His aura now darker than before as Toshinori's own aura glowed bright with happiness knowing he was the superior father figure in Izukus life.

Meanwhile Izuku ever oblivious to his father's fued just gave his mom his best smile feeling happier to have them in his life. After all they were his family and he wouldn't change that for nothing in the world.

******************************************************

Sometime later

Yoichi: Leave brother we will not leave this host!

AFO: Oh I don't want your quirk little brother, no not anymore.

Yoichi: Then why are you here what else could you possibly want?!

AFO: WHAT I WANT IS FOR YOU TO MAKE YOUR GOLDEN BOY LEAVE MY WIFE AND SON ALONE! HE'S RUINING EVERYTHING!

Yoichi: I see so that's what this is about...yeah no this is what you get. Consider this karma goodbye brother.

AFO: OH NO DON'T YOU DARE HANG UP ON ME TELL ALL MI-

Yoichi: *disconnects AFO from Izukus conscious*

AFO: *Sitting in Izukus room while his son sleeps* I can't believe it he hung up on me.

******************************************************

AFO: I'll have you know I did alot of good things I'm not a good for nothing scumbag!

Inko: Oh really name one good deed you've done since we got married.

AFO:............Well umm..... Oh! I had Izuku our son!

Inko: Hehe yeah no I had Izuku you just stood there and cried in the corner for 11 hours.

AFO: WELL YOU TRY BEING SUPPORTIVE WHEN YOUR WIFE CALLS YOU A- Wait no actually I adopted a stray child off the streets! That definitely counts as one good deed!

Inko: WHAT!?

AFO: *realizing how bad he messed up* You what happened was....

#bnha dad for one #dad for one #inko midoriya #inko midoriya is a black widow #vigilante deku #dad might #inko midoriya just being a good mom #hizashi midoriya is all for one #battle of the dads

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neonacity · 3 years

Text

HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 3: JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones. Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal.

There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. tw: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

TW: illegal activities, gunshot wound, mentions of blood

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

"Another bank was looted last night around 11PM, this time in the Geumchon district. This is the second bank that was broken into in the past week and the fourth that is rumored to be the doing of one of Seoul's organized criminal…."

I sighed and put down the pen that I have been using to scribble on a piece of napkin. A frown creased my forehead before I grabbed the offending piece of flimsy paper and crumpled it with my hand. Jeno, who was silently watching the news, looked up and shot me a curious look. He was leaning over the counter lazily, his cup of half finished hot cocoa beside him.

"You okay?"

I winced. "Yeah... Actually. Actually, no. I am not okay," I said finally as I threw the used napkin to the closest thrash. I have been scribbling all the things I have to pay for the coming month there and couldn't bear to take another look at it. Jeno grabbed his drink and silently took a sip of it, obviously waiting for me to elaborate.

After my initial 'unplanned' meeting with Jaemin's friends, it has become more or less of their routine to drop by the cafe to hangout. Jaemin was initially against it at first, always scowling whenever he would see one of them already in the shop, though it seems like he has gotten used to it lately—or rather, he didn't have any other choice but to simply accept it. They would often sometimes come in groups—Jisung and Chenle are big fans of the pastries—but other times it's just one of them who would drop by to visit like Jeno now. My favorite is when all of them drops by to visit, not only because I've started getting closer to them too, but because customers would automatically flock into the shop whenever the "handsome gang" is there. Honestly, I couldn't blame them.

"I'm a little bit short on money this month. I was supposed to get my monthly allowance from my scholarship but something happened so it will be delayed. I have lab things to buy and well—everything sucks."

Jeno nodded slowly, though I have a feeling he doesn't really understand my plight with money. Spending time with the seven of them has given me a better understanding of each boys' personalities. Jeno, for example, is definitely the calmer one of the bunch. While the others would cause chaos every now and then—Jaemin included, he would be on the side watching them usually with that adorable eye smile of his. He is different from Mark who would mostly jump in to join the fun before calming everyone once things get overboard, though both seem to share the same responsibility over the group. He also seems to be the closest to Jaemin, so by extension, I am also most comfortable around him.

"How much money do you need?"

I gave him a look as I reached out for a paper cup to make myself my own hot cocoa.

"I heard the same question from your best friend before. Are you also going to offer to be my sugar daddy?"

Jeno choked on his drink and hid his laughter behind his raised cup.

"Do you want Jaemin to kill me?"

That made me inappropriately blush.

"Sometimes I just want to bust out a bank like that group everyone is talking about."

Jeno didn't say anything and continued watching me from the brim of his drink.

"You think you can do it?"

"Do what?" I asked as I poured hot cocoa on my cup. I said that off-handedly, I almost forgot my words the moment they left my lips.

"Rob a bank. You know, do something illegal."

I leaned back against the counter and craned my head a little sideways as I thought the question over. I didn't actually think of that before so I had to listen to my moral compass a little bit before answering.

"It depends on the reason."

Jeno looked surprised by my reply. He was probably expecting a goody two shoes answer from me, which I don’t blame him for, to be honest. Even I am mildly shocked by what I said.

"The reason?"

"Yes. I mean, if the only reason I would steal is because I don't have money to support my studies, then no, I wouldn't do it. I have other options. I can work extra jobs or I can just drop out from uni. But if I didn't really have any other choice, if I had to do it for someone really close to me, for example, then I would do it."

"That is very…"

"Cliche, right? I know. But that's how it works, at least for me," I said with a laugh. "I do know what's good and bad, but I'm willing to jump the gun if I have to."

I didn't know if it was my imagination, but I thought I heard Jeno murmur something under his breath as I turned to get back to work.

"I bet Jaemin wouldn't like that."

-----

PRESENT DAY, a little over one month after the happenings in the first chapter.

They disappeared like bubbles. No, he disappeared in thin air, like smoke that was blown over by a strong gust of wind. After that night when Jaemin bust through my cafe door, hiding god knows what and asking for temporary shelter, he hasn't shown himself again, apparently leaving while I slipped into a light sleep. Even his friends stopped visiting the cafe which, for a few days, made me genuinely feel scared. Are they okay? What happened to him? Who was he running away from?

That worry slowly and gradually morphed into anger as the days lengthened. I know it was my way of coping with my emotions, but I couldn't help myself. I tried calling him, but the line was cut. It even came to the point that I had to call each of his friends, but it seems like the numbers they gave me were all temporary ones, too. I felt frustrated. I felt...abandoned.

Was it really easy for him to just cut off all contact with me?

Was it foolish of me to think that there is...something deeper here than just friendship?

It was the start of winter when the loud ringing of my phone woke me up from my nap. Eyes still heavy with sleep, my first instinct was to look at the clock by my table which registered 1:19AM. I frowned. I was in the middle of finishing a paper before I decided to take a nap but who could be calling me at such an ungodly hour?

I blearily reached out for my phone and barely looked at the unregistered number before hitting the answer button.

"Hello?"

"Noona?"

I froze. Just like that, I felt the sleepiness slowly melt away from my consciousness. I know that voice.

"Jisung?"

"Noona, we need your help."

I sat up on my seat after registering the panic in his voice. I heard another tone suddenly hiss at him from the background before a rustling sound overtook the speakers. It sounded like someone grabbed the phone from his grasp before he could even react.

"Jisung. What's happening—"

"Hello?" The new voice that spoke on the other line made my heart stop. I stared at my wall, wide-eyed.

"Jaemin."

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to—"

"Jaemin, we don’t really have any other choice but her, give me the phone," another one jumped in. It was Mark.

"No. Hyung—"

"We're losing him," my lips parted in shock at what I heard. His voice sounded clearer now and I could very much pick up the iciness on it. Mark has always been so friendly and warm that it threw me off guard.

"Give me the phone."

The authority he held made me assume that Jaemin did as he was told. Next thing I know, he was calling out my name from the speaker.

"Mark, yes, I'm listening."

"Hey. I'm really sorry about this, but we need your help. We really have no other choice, Haechan is in such a bad state—"

That made me stand up and push away from my desk.

"What the hell is going on? What do you mean about Haechan?"

"I'll explain later. We're on our way to you now."

"Wait, what? You don't know my address."

"We'll be there in seven minutes."

That was all he said before he cut off the call, leaving me standing shell-shocked in the middle of my room.

---

They banged on my door not even five minutes after. I had barely pulled on a cardigan when loud knocks rang through my small one bedroom unit causing me to quickly run and grab my knob open.

I stood frozen at the sight of the seven boys crowding my doorway. Everyone was covered in some sort of soot, leaving them almost unrecognizable in their black outfits. Mark and Jeno were in the middle of the group, carrying a half-conscious Haechan between them. Jisung, Chenle, and Renjun brought the rear, their eyes moving wildly as if checking for eavesdroppers. Jaemin stood closest to me, his jaw tense and his eyes apologetic. My gaze snapped back to the center of the group when Mark called out my name.

That's when I saw it for the first time. I didn't notice it at first because of its dark color, but Jeno was holding a towel against Haechan's stomach. Except it isn't black, it was a deep dark red.

Blood.

"Oh my god."

"Please help us."

Maybe it was the shock, but I quickly stepped aside to let everyone in. I had barely slammed the door shut when I heard a crashing sound from my small dining area. Jeno pushed everything on top of my table to the ground as Mark and Jaemin gently guided Haechan on it.

"What—what is going on—"

"He's been shot. Thrice. We're not sure but I think two of the bullets are still there," Renjun answered me as he grabbed the soaked towel from Mark's hand and replaced it with a new one. Jisung and Chenle worked on closing all the shutters of my windows while Jaemin tore off a lamp from my living room to move it close to Haechan. He closed all other lights other than the ones on the dining area and the small lamp.

It was then when my training finally kicked in. I ran towards the table to peer at the wound, my shaking hands gently moving the new towel that is quickly getting soaked by blood again. Haechan gave a soft grunt of pain before slipping to unconsciousness again.

"I think there are still foreign objects there. It's what causing the severe bleeding."

"Can you take it out?"

My eyes shot to Jeno. The harsh lights from the lamp threw strong shadows on his stressed features.

"I'm not a licensed doctor."

"We don't need a licensed doctor right now, we need someone who can patch the hole in his stomach. Please."

I gritted my teeth. I have a ton of questions running through my head right now, but he's right. We need to act fast or else we will lose him. I rolled up my sleeves then and called out to whoever can act fast to my orders.

"Somebody get the black box under my bed. I have all my surgery practice tools there. I need hot water and lots of towels. Everyone move. Now."

As soon as I said my orders, each of the boys were moving in a flurry to get everything that I asked for. I was adjusting the small lamp directly over the wound to peer at it better when I felt a gentle hand circle around my arm. I looked up to see Jaemin staring at me.

"Thank you."

I didn't say anything at first. I don't know if it was the shadows playing over his features, but he looked different from the Jaemin I knew in that brief moment.

"Don't thank me yet. Say that once we're sure he survives."

---

I was stirred from my sleep by the light snoring of someone to my right. Turning my head, I was greeted by the sight of Jisung who was currently sprawled on my sofa, his legs so long that they were dangling on one end. Chenle was on the floor below him, his face covered by one of the pillows he probably fished from one of my love seats cradling Renjun's curled up form. Mark and Jeno were both sitting upright, the former close to Haechan and the other by the door like a sentinel. They seemed to be in deep sleep too, they're heads hanging low. Jaemin was on the floor next to my seat, his breathing slow and relaxed.

I blinked slowly as my gaze moved from boy to boy. It took me a painful two hours to do the impromptu surgery, first working on taking the bullets out before sewing everything back together. Haechan was lucky enough that the bullets didn't hit any vital organs or important vessels, and that the extreme bleeding was only caused by the wrong muscle being hit by the impact. He slipped from being conscious to unconscious throughout, and everyone had to work together to help me while I did my thing.

I couldn’t really blame any of them from crashing the moment we made sure that Haechan’s safe—for now.

After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I tried to silently move from where I was curled on, careful not to stir anyone. I still have a ton of questions, but those can be taken care of later. I padded as carefully as I could towards the table where Haechan was still resting and peered at the IV that I had hooked on his arm to make sure everything was moving well.

They even have spare blood bags with them for emergency transfusions.

...As if this kind of thing normally happens.

"He's going to be okay, right?"

I hastily turned to see Jaemin staring at me. His voice was low and was only loud enough for me to hear.

I stared at him for a bit before looking away.

"Yes. He'll survive."

"Thank you so much."

I didn't answer. He also didn't say anything else, though I could still feel his gaze heavily on me. I braced myself before speaking again.

"We need to talk."

I didn't wait for him to reply. I simply walked towards my room, leaving my door open for him to follow. I only turned back to look at him when I finally heard it close softly behind him.

"Who are you?" I asked, before he could even say anything else. I watched as his jaw tightened and released, his eyes full of indecisiveness. I didn't waver. Not this time.

"You said…"

"That I will never ask questions? I did. But I can't do it anymore, Jaemin. You disappeared for a month without even saying goodbye then showed up on my door with your friends, one of them with a hole in their stomach. You have blood bags—freaking blood bags. What the hell is going on?"

I tried my hardest to control my voice, not wanting any part of this conversation to be heard outside. My legs felt weak at the moment but I tried my best to continue standing so I could hold his gaze.

The look in Jaemin's eyes, however, almost made me want to give up. I knew from the pain and hesitation there that I wouldn't like whatever it is he is about to say.

"I'm a criminal."

My stomach dropped.

I was expecting it, but hearing it straight from him didn't soften the impact and the shock.

"A…"

"We steal. We do illegal things. There is absolutely no good way for me to describe this, but yes, I am a runaway who was stupid enough to bring you into this mess," Jaemin said through gritted teeth as he tore his eyes away from me. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to take a deep breath to steady himself.

"I was stupid and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone back and tried to befriend you after that order of coffee. I'm sorry I ran to you that night a month ago. I seriously thought I was going to die and I wanted you to be the one that I see for the last time. I'm sorry for today, or that I couldn't answer any of your questions back then. It was selfish of me to keep you in my life without giving you anything back," he stopped and forced himself to look at me again. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest when our gazes met.

"I'm sorry."

I didn't… couldn't say anything. One part of me had already expected this because it is the only reason that makes sense. Those vague answers, his detachment from normal society, the money, every clue seems to point to one direction, but that didn't spare me from my moral dilemma now. Because while I knew, I didn't exactly consider how it relates to me.

I was afraid to.

Because the truth is, I like Na Jaemin to the extent that I'm afraid of what I can do for him.

"Do you kill…" I asked in a whisper, my voice shaky. A frown passed his already stressed features before he answered.

"No. None of us do," he answered, and I knew then that he was telling the truth. Regardless of what he is or what he didn't tell me, I trust him to not lie to me.

"Am I—am I in danger?" I asked next. He firmly shook his head.

"No. I made sure of that. No one would dare—" he stopped, as if gauging what words he can use to not scare me even more. "You have always been under protection."

That’s when it clicked. The cafe visits from his friends. The random strangers who seem to spring out from nowhere every time I was out and about and needed sudden help.

My legs finally gave way and I collapsed on my bed behind me. My mind was trying its best to wrap around the situation, leaving my thoughts in a jumble. There are a million things I wanted to say, but I couldn’t get a single one out at the moment.

Jaemin seemed to know what I was feeling at the very least because he simply stood there, silently watching me. I'm not sure how long the two of us stayed in that bubble of silence, but it was also him who brought me back to reality when I felt warmth cover my hands.

I looked up to see him kneeling in front of me, both his hands gently enveloping my clasped ones. The look in his eyes made my heart lurch, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything still.

"I'm sorry if I was selfish… I promise, after this, you won't have to worry about anything else."

No.

"When I met you, I saw something that's so different from the life that I have. Believe me, I tried my best to leave you alone, but I wanted more of it—more of —you, so I kept coming back."

Are you going to leave me again?

"But you'll be safe now. I promise. You can go back to how it used to be before I… almost ruined it."

Please don't leave me.

Jaemin gave my hands one last squeeze and I felt him move to straighten himself. Before he let them go, however, another gentle warmth pressed against my forehead as he grazed it with his lips.

"Thank you."

My tears dropped the same time the doors closed behind him.

---

Chapter 4

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