Sungho gets mistaken for a girl at a party and somehow ends up in a love triangle with himself. It’s all Jaehyun’s fault.
MAINS. Sungho & female reader
TROPES. college au, romcom, strangers to lovers
WARNINGS. bisexual mc, accidental feminization (sungho is referred to as she for half of mc’s pov, he’s also jokingly called unnie at one point), drunken antics, bit suggestive?, swear words, overdramatic thoughts about dying
WORDS. 7.1k
NOTES. this came to me after seeing clips from the 260428 hyung-line live, so imagine this hair on sungho in the first scene
There are exactly thirteen steps between the camping table set up for the submarine game and the bathroom. You know because you counted. You might have hesitated a bit between six and seven, giggling to yourself, but you did count thirteen by the time you reached the entrance hall through the corridor lit by fairy lights.
Okay, maybe give or take a few. You were a bit distracted by the music, the lights and trying not to stumble. There’s still a sway in your step when the bathroom door opens suddenly in front of you and you backtrack, the house slipper Jaehyun made everybody wear catching on the edge of a rug. Then the Earth turns on its axis and you feel your balance give out. But before you could spread out like a starfish on the ground and stare at the ceiling (which doesn’t sound half bad right now), a hand catches your elbow and pulls you back.
You blink slowly as the dizziness settles and look up at your savior only to come face-to-face with an angel.
“Are you okay?” She asks with a worried yelp while you’re busy staring. Even the shitty dim lighting of the bathroom that Haewon complained about earlier looks like a halo around her, framing her shoulder-length wavy blonde hair like it was her personal ring lamp. God really has some favourites, huh?
“Wow, you are really pretty!” You blurt out, your brain-to-mouth filter lost sometime after the second somaek you had to drink because you were hopelessly losing against Intak and Junghwan. Really, it’s just your luck that you managed to sink the soju glass twice in a row.
“Thanks?” Blondie shyly giggles and oh gosh, it’s so cute. That’s it, you will die in Jaehyun’s flat, right in the middle of the hall, staining it like a crime scene, all because of a pretty girl. “Uhm… were you about to…”
She trails off, pointing over her shoulders towards the bathroom and momentarily you’re distracted by the collarbone peeking out from under the wide neck tee. Yeah, maybe you did actually fall and hit your head because it feels a bit like heaven.
“Yeah, right,” you shake your head trying to recall why you came to the bathroom in the first place. Then you remember the amount of beer and soju you drank and the dryness of your lips. So you both do a little wiggle wiggle while sharing semi-awkward chuckles with the gorgeous blonde girl to switch places in the narrow space between the bathroom door and the coat hanger spilling over with jackets.
After a total 180 degrees turn, you’re still staring at the white flowers the fairy lights paint on the girl’s face until you realize it might be creepy and mutter thanks before turning towards the mirror. Squinting at the blinking silver glow that comes from the LED rod above the sink, you realize that Haewon was right about the shitty lighting. You try to switch on the ceiling lamp instead but then remember Jaehyun said that the bulb died like a week ago and he was so busy making sure there’s enough food and booze for the party that he forgot to change it. Typical guy behaviour.
“Actually…” You spin around, ignoring the dizziness that comes with it, in favour of catching your savior before she could actually leave. When she looks back in a mix of confusion and curiosity, you also notice that her top is cropped above her jeans. And that her shoulder-to-waist ratio is insane. You need to hold onto the sink behind you. Seriously, where was this hot girl hiding all this time?
“Can you help me?” You wave your purse between you as an indicator but she still looks a bit baffled when she eventually steps back into the bathroom. The door closes behind her with a soft click, leaving the two of you in semi-darkness. A hint of her perfume hits you then, a subtle woody scent, and suddenly you find it harder to breathe. It’s ironic that you have a bunch of guy friends who are popular on campus because of their looks but the only time you malfunction is near pretty girls.
After some struggle fishing it out, somehow you manage to give Blondie your phone with the torch function on and she directs the light towards the mirror wordlessly while you’re busy pulling out your lip products. It’s her who breaks the silence of the small space.
“So how do you know Jaehyun?” She asks, soft-spoken but there’s a lower huskiness in her voice that you find really attractive.
“He is in one of my classes, English Lit. You?” You answer after fixing up the edges with your lip liner.
“We used to live together,” the girl behind you replies matter-of-factly but it piques your interest more than it probably should. You glance at her figure half in the shadows through the mirror.
“Oh. Did you date?” You inquire as you switch to the balm. You hope it sounds like a casual follow-up question despite how sour it tastes in your mouth. Ridiculous. Who cares if they used to date?
“What? No! I… I like girls,” Blondie exclaims, her voice higher now, almost like she can’t believe you even came to that assumption. On the other hand, you’re quite pleased with the new bit of information. Especially because being openly queer is still not easy and her boldness encourages you to do the same.
“That’s cool! Me too! But I like guys too,” you tell her casually because it’s not even the wildest fact you have ever (over)shared in a bathroom. You tend to do that even without the influence of alcohol.
“What do you think?” You ask once you add the finishing touch with the lip gloss and smack your lips together, turning back around.
“It’s pretty,” Blondie says slowly, her cat-like eyes trained on your mouth and satisfaction pools in your stomach.
“Wanna try?” You offer boldly even though you can see the faint traces of something sparkling on her lips too already.
She blinks rapidly and makes a confused noise in the back of her throat but before she could actually articulate an answer, you stand on your tiptoes to match her height and briefly press your lips against her. It’s barely a peck but your lips tingle afterwards, begging for more.
“There,” you smile widely and tilt your head towards the door. “Dance with me?”
The girl seems speechless for a moment but then giggles again and follows you to a corner of the living room where most of the people mingle and do a very poor imitation of dancing to some 2010s throwback Jaehyun’s speakers play, so it’s a win. Faintly you hear Hanbin scolding somebody for smoking on the balcony and some cheers over a wild round of the APT game but none of that matters, not when you have the prettiest girl with you.
Under the flashing crimson and blue lights Blondie’s eyes shine. Or it might just be from her glittery eyeshadow. Either way you are mesmerized. When you sway closer, you could blame it on the alcohol but it wouldn’t be completely true nor would be claiming that resting a hand on her side is only for balance.
There’s a content smile on your lips when she shudders under your touch as your thumb caresses the sliver of bare skin not covered by her tee. When she calls your name, almost revered, as her own hands slide to the small of your back to hold you, you’re too tipsy and too affected to question when you told her what’s your name. You just hook your free hand’s index finger into the long necklace she’s wearing and give it a little tug to pull her closer. Your breath hitches when your lips graze after she stumbles and you bump into the couch behind you.
“Are you sure you’re sober enough?” She asks, her warm breath fanning over your mouth and her voice dropping lower. So sexy.
“Yes. Please,” you whisper, no hesitation, and sigh when your lips finally mold together. She tastes like cherries and you press closer like you’re trying to figure out whether it’s from her gloss or flavoured soju.
You get lost in it. Her earthy scent, the sweet taste of her lips, the way she kisses you like she means it. You have a hand on her nape, playing with the strands of her short blonde hair while she holds you like you are something precious. Time slows down and everything else dulls: the music, the lights, the alcohol in your veins.
“Get a room,” somebody yells at some point, breaking the spell as Blondie pulls back too much for your liking. You need a few long seconds to ground yourself, blinking up at the gorgeous girl in front of you. The gloss is smeared on her reddened lips and you’re sure you’re no better. You feel hot all over.
“Do you… do you wanna come over to mine?” You mutter, breathless, your fingers skimming down on her flat stomach from her ribcage all the way to the hem of her high waist jeans, implications clear and it has her suck in a breath.
Then suddenly, with the worst timing ever, nausea hits. All those soju shots are finally catching up to you.
“Wait… Fuck, I think I will throw up,” you barely get the words out before running back to the bathroom.
The rest of the night is a blur. You remember the cold of the bathroom floor tiles, somebody patting your back, glimpses of a taxi ride but the faces and events are smudged like ink under water. Somehow you manage to wake you up in your own bed, in changed clothes, alone.
“Had fun?” Kazuha teases when you crawl out of the room after noon to do something about your growling stomach. The curry she’s eating smells so good you would otherwise steal from that but right now you can’t even fathom swallowing something proper like that.
“Don’t even start. I made out with the hottest girl, then threw up in front of her and I don’t even know her name,” you whine with a pout, spreading cream cheese over your bread only to remember halfway through a glide that you forgot to toast it. It makes you ridiculously sad.
“That’s a pity. Though the guy who brought you back and asked me to make sure you’re good was cute too,” your flatmate says between two bites and it has you furrowing your brows.
“Who was it?”
“How would I know? I don’t know Myung Jaehyun’s friends. Only Sanghyuk and it wasn’t him,” Zuha shrugs and goes back to her lunch.
Her answer doesn’t really narrow down the list. Jaehyun is friends with like half the campus, so ruling out dance majors doesn’t get you anywhere. Maybe it was Hanbin or Euijoo, they are usually the most sober at these parties.
You take a bite from your soft bread as you sit down and open your unread notifications. You text back everybody who wonders whether you’re alive and like a few photos on social media. You totally don’t do it in hopes of catching sight of a certain blonde girl, so you’re totally not disappointed when you don’t see anyone like that tagged. You only have one new follow request from some guy with a pumpkin username. He’s wearing a football jersey in his profile picture, so you delete it without thinking. Jocks are not your type.
Alas life goes on and on Monday, you’re facing your next challenge: trying to not get rained on while carrying books that didn’t fit into your totebag next to your lunchbox and laptop. Or the even bigger challenge: opening one of those heavy glass doors while your hands are full to get into the Humanities building without getting rained on.
“Hey, Y/N! Let me…” Comes a voice from behind you and the umbrella that has been precariously balancing on your shoulder is now secured properly over your head. It gives you a free hand to push at the handle.
“Wow, you're a lifesaver, thanks!” You let out a relieved sigh as the door swings open.
“No worries,” says the guy who follows you inside and hands you your umbrella back. He has a grey hoodie over his head, drenched a little at the sleeves where his own umbrella didn’t cover him. A few strands of dyed hair peeks out from under the hood and his thin framed glasses are a bit fogged up now from the warmer temperature indoors. “How is your head?”
The question leaves you dumbfounded a bit but then you remember he even called your name, so now you’re racking your brain from where he could know you. He does seem vaguely familiar but you’re pretty sure there’s no guy like him in your classes but one can never be 100% certain. You’re not the most observant person anyways, you get distracted way too easily.
“Could be worse. Uhm you are…”
“Sungho. From the party?” The guy pushes the glasses back on his nose bridge, Thankfully he doesn’t look offended that you didn’t recognize him, rather just… shy?
“Sorry, things about the party are a bit… blurry. I shouldn’t have drunk so much,” you admit with an audible wince because that’s the issue, isn’t it? At the end of the day, it’s your fault that his name doesn’t ring a bell.
“No worries,” Sungho waves off your apology with a slightly awkward smile and points at the stack of books under your arm. “Need help with those?”
“I’ll manage. Thanks though,” you smile and wish him a nice day before sprinting off towards the elevator. You really can’t wrap your head around why he seems familiar when you don’t remember anything about him.
It’s been five days and no signs of Blondie. You start to think that she was just the creation of your drunk mind. So it leaves you no choice: you have to go to the single source of truth, the only person you know who knows her.
“Jaehyun, hey!” You catch up to the boy before he could leave after your class together on Friday morning. “I need your help.”
“Sure, go on,” he turns to you, slipping his phone back into the pocket of his baggy jeans. He probably thinks you need help with the material or at least something academic-related, so you spare both of you the time by not keeping him guessing.
“At your housewarming party I kissed someone,” you tell him straightforwardly and you can see his neutral expression morph into a grin. The social butterfly he is, you're pretty sure matchmaking his friends is one of his favourite pastime activities.
“Not just anyone. The prettiest blonde girl ever,” you clarify because you need him to understand the gravity of the situation.
“Ah… huh?” Jaehyun blinks in confusion, probably because he doesn't understand what you need his help with. Or maybe he didn’t know you swing both ways? Anyways…
“Yeah. She said she used to live together with you. Could you maybe get me her contact?” You plead, even put your hands together to mimic praying and try your best puppy eyes.
“She?” The guy questions like he’s trying to make sure he heard that part right.
“Yes, she! She’s like this tall, has short blonde hair with bangs and she has really cute cat-like eyes,” you describe the girl of your dreams to him. But why are you over-explaning it? He couldn’t have had that many roommates to begin with. “How many girls have you lived with?”
“Not many,” Jaehyun laughs. “I will ask Yeppi first, okay?”
“Yeppi?”
“It’s a nickname,” he explains and you can't help but smile. It fits because she is pretty. Should you maybe call her that too instead of Blondie?
“Okay, yeah, of course, you should ask her first,” you nod, eagerly, giddy already because you’re one step closer to finding her.
Sungho’s day has been just peachy. He almost burned himself with the milk foam machine and has been yelled at for not using oat milk for a customer who did not even ask for it. Let’s not even talk about the fact that it’s day five of his crush ignoring him. Then Jaehyun waltzes through the café’s door like the world’s happiest labrador running up to its owner.
“Dude, you won’t believe it!” He yells over the chill lofi music and Sungho bows in apology towards the exactly three university students studying or at least pretending in front of their open laptops.
“Keep your voice down,” he hisses at his friend. It comes out a bit harsher than intended but he has been a bit moodier lately.
Lately as in ever since that run-in he had with you on campus when it became clear that you didn’t even remember kissing him. But it’s all good, he gets it, you were drunk but still…
“So you don’t want to hear what I talked about with Y/N?” Jaehyun leans onto his elbows over the counter and Sungho can’t help but feel a little jab in the ribs at the mention of your name. Then he remembers how you touched him right there, lightly and playfully from one rib to another and he needs to suppress a shiver while he starts the espresso machine as nonchalantly as he can. It doesn’t deter Jaehyun from continuing in the kind of voice he uses when he excitedly describes movie plots he liked. “She just asked for my help to contact the prettiest blonde girl she has met. The one she made out with at my party.”
It’s like one ear in, one ear out. Sungho needs two business days to process what he heard because he understands the words and yet, they don’t make any sense. Were you kissing somebody else at the party? A girl no less? Not that he has any problem with that, you told him you like girls too and he’s a firm believer of love is love but… Did it mean that he wasn’t special at all? Were you just going around calling everybody pretty and kissing them?
“What?” He eventually gapes at Jaehyun who’s still grinning at him widely like it’s the best news ever. Argh, he really should have told Euijoo about his troubles instead, the older guy wouldn’t have made fun of him at least.
“She thinks you’re a girl, Sungho,” Jaehyun pokes him in the chest with a cheshire smile. “The girl you have a crush on has a crush on the girl version of you. Oh my god. This is golden.”
“Oh,” Sungho blinks, slowly, because if it’s true, if Jaehyun is right to be so sure that the girl in question is actually him, maybe the situation is not that dire. Sure, he is not a girl but you have also told him that you like guys too, so that shouldn’t be a problem… right? “Then I should just tell her it was me.”
It’s that simple, isn’t it? Sure, it might be a bit awkward, it might require him to dig out pictures Jaehyun took of him in makeup but if it makes you kiss him like that again, it would be worth it.
“I have a better idea,” his friend interjects, way too excited compared to the problem at hand.
“I don’t like your ideas,” Sungho frowns but still slides an iced americano in front of Jaehyun as a peace offering.
“My idea to put you in make up got Y/N kissing you,” Jaehyun raises a brow in challenge then takes a long slurping sip from the coffee before making the dramatic announcement. “Let’s make an instagram account for Sunghee.”
Now Sungho is utterly confused.
“Who?”
“Your girl version, come on, Sungho, keep up!” Jaehyun is snapping his fingers impatiently, then leans closer to lay out his plan. “You said she didn’t accept your follow request and kind of avoided you at uni, so if you suddenly approached her claiming you kissed her at the party she barely has any recollections of because of how drunk she was, she would think you’re a creep. I think you should start talking online and see if there’s anything beyond the initial sparks.”
“You want me to pretend to be a girl just to talk with my crush,” Sungho deadpans.
He can’t believe he’s actually considering this. Not after the last time he listened to Jaehyun, he lost a bet and ended up being styled against his own will. He really should have stopped doing that. Both listening to Jaehyun and making bets with him.
“Okay, maybe we can keep the gender thing ambiguous,” his best friend sighs almost like he’s the one giving in. “I have been telling you for years that you’re pretty like a girl. I wonder though, how she didn’t notice you’re as flat as a board."
Sungho feels himself flush but he isn’t sure it’s from embarrassment or exasperation.
“Of course I’m flat-chested, I’m a guy!”
“Maybe she likes her girls like that too,” Jaehyun has the audacity to grin while saying that. It only makes Sungho want to throw him out.
“Can we not talk about Y/N with other girls?” He groans and puts on his customer service smile when a mildly scared-looking girl approaches the counter.
Sungho remembers the first time he saw you clear as day. It happened in the coffee shop where he works part-time. Rain was pouring then too, relentlessly. (It’s a bit ironic that you only seem to go there when the weather’s shitty and you can’t be bothered to go to your favourite off campus café.) You probably don’t remember because he’s just one barista of the many you’ve encountered. You should have been just one customer of the many too. He usually has a hard time remembering even regulars, but something shifted inside of him that day.
And funnily enough, if anything, it was irritation at first sight.
You entered the coffee shop, your umbrella dripping rainwater all over the polished floors he had just mopped, and he had to close his eyes to stop himself from quitting right there. There was clearly an umbrella holder by the door outside, but he couldn’t even kindly point that out to you because instead of making your way to the counter, you walked up straight to a couple sitting by the window and slapped the guy right across the face. Sungho was too shocked to react. He just stood there with mouth agapé as you lectured that guy about cheating on your friend. It was like something out of a weekday soap opera, the unrealistic kind people get hooked on without meaning to and he was no better. He only remembered to act like a professional when you eventually did walk up to the counter to order a coffee for takeaway like nothing happened. He totally forgot about scolding you over the umbrella thing.
He has built some sort of quiet admiration after his co-worker Gaeul told him that the guy you slapped was an infamous player on campus, so it was well-deserved. Still, he thought you were a bit scary. (Which according to Jaehyun translated to him finding you hot.) Then the next time you visited the café during his shift you gave your umbrella to a stranger just because the girl had to go to a job interview while it was pouring outside. Right after, you complimented his latte art.
Needless to say, he has been falling steadily.
And then came the party and its aftermath.
He really can’t even make himself to blame you for not recognizing him. Every barista wears brand colored masks, aprons and baseball caps according to company policy and because Sungho hates it when his hair is in his eyes while working, he always neatly tucks them under the hat. Then there are the glasses he wears when the chances that somebody drunkenly knocks them off are low. So he gets it, the confusion, but… a girl? Really?
It's raining again when you walk in. He straightens his back when he notices and smoothes the wrinkles out on the front of his apron. He can immediately tell something is off though. There’s something sluggish in your movements and your eyes lack their usual spark and fire. You order a latte, hot like always on rainy days, and he rings your order up with all the usual textbook questions but he can’t help sneaking glances at you.
“Rough day?” He prompts gently as he hands you the buzzer. When you lift your gaze to him and your fingers touch, he swears his heart skips a beat.
“You could say that,” you sigh and start rambling about your pain in the ass of a landlord and your thesis consultant’s not too helpful comments on your drafted proposal while he’s starting on your coffee. It’s a slow day, so he doesn’t mind listening to you. He never does, but your company now feels especially good. When you add to your list of problems that you’re starting to think you’re unlucky when it comes to your crushes, he almost messes up the latte art. “Sorry, that was a long rant.”
“It’s okay. Just remember to take care of yourself,” he tells you and draws a little smiley onto your paper cup before handing it over. This time, when you take it, your fingers linger longer.
“Thanks… Sungho, right?” you smile at him sweetly, eyes crinkling and he feels his heart stutter in his chest.
You put the not even used buzzer down on the counter between you but don’t leave right away. You look at him intently, like you’re trying to figure out something and he can do nothing but stare back, his breath caught in his throat.
“Sorry, it might sound weird but…” You tilt your head and squint at him. “Your eyes are really familiar. Do you perhaps have a sister?”
Sungho exhales with a chuckle because you’re so close to getting it, to recognize him and yet, here you are face-to-face, searching for logical-sounding excuses for the familiarity. Now is his chance. He should just rip off the bandaid and spare you both the time and this awkward dance you’re doing because of a simple misunderstanding. He just didn’t imagine it happening at his workplace but better there than never.
“Uhm, no, no sister. Actually–”
The sound of your phone ringing echoes in the quiet space of the café. You fish it out and Sungho bites into his lip.
“Shit, sorry, I have to go,” you look back up with apologetic eyes and then you’re already running off with your coffee in your hand, leaving him standing there like a fool. Again.
So here it comes: desperate times, desperate measures.
Still, Sungho refuses to create fake accounts and such just to talk to you. Instead he changes his default KakaoTalk name to his initials and sets his profile picture to a photo of his family’s cat.
Then he takes a deep breath and looks up the ID Jaehyun has sent him earlier, preceded by a bunch of smirking emojis. He types out a message, keeping it simple and straightforward. His fingers shake a bit when he presses Send.
psh: hi! jaehyun told me you’re looking for me
The answer is almost immediate. As if you have been waiting. He tries to not feel too hopeful and fails.
ynie: omg yeppi?
psh: please don’t call me that
ynie: why? you’re pretty
And that’s it, he’s already blushing.
ynie: but you can always tell me your name
psh: nice try but you know my name actually
ynie: i do?
ynie: i’m sorry i don’t remember TT
ynie: i hope i didn’t scare you off at the party! and that i didn’t come off as too strong! i usually don’t invite people over so fast
psh: don’t worry about it. it’s probably better we didn’t go further though
He only means it because of how drunk you were and because of the gender confusion thing but only when there’s a pause between messages does he realize that it came out wrong.
psh: not that i didn’t want to! it’s just that i would prefer to go slow. if that’s okay?
How do you tell someone you have been crushing on for a while that you would like them at least to know you’re a guy before you go anywhere near a bed, a crash course by Park Sungho. Argh, he would like to scream into his pillow like those dramatic characters in dramas but he has more dignity than that. At least he would like to think he does. That’s why he thinks it’s important to clarify he didn’t text to hook up. His heart wasn’t built for one night stands.
ynie: of course. i would like to get to know you anyways
So that’s how it starts, the texting, the twenty and more questions, and somehow his name or gender are forgotten. Like they are not even important. At least not as important as the cat in his profile picture or your thesis topic, his favourite movies and songs, your guilty pleasure dessert and how you’ve been wanting to dye your hair for a while but never got around to do it.
Some days it’s like this:
ynie: wait did you just get on a metro near campus?
psh: yeah why?
ynie: i think i saw you! from across the platform before the metro pulled up
ynie: omg i can’t believe it. we were so close
ynie: big fan of your androgynous style btw
Well, that’s one way to put it. It’s just a white tank top with an overshirt paired with jeans.
psh: i can’t believe you recognized me from afar
That’s what he types and what he means is: I can’t believe you don’t recognize me when I’m in front of you.
ynie: well your hair stands out and your shoulder-waist ratio has driven me crazy that night, so…
Now, Sungho is the one going insane.
Another day he gets two notifications at the same time. One from you with a bunch of exclamation marks and an ominous one from Jaehyun.
menace: don’t kill me
psh: what did you do now?
menace: i might have sent a picture of you to y/n
menace: the one with the braided pigtails wig
Sungho takes three deep breaths, blocks his best friend and throws his phone onto the bed. By the time he picks it up again (barely 5 minutes later because he lacks self-control when it comes to you), your chat is filled with reaction pictures and uppercase messages.
ynie: you look pretty with long dark hair too!!
He kind of wants to dig himself a hole.
These days you come to his workplace even on sunny days. You make small talk by the counter while you wait for your drink. One day, you slide a flyer about a book club onto the counter and invite him. Most days, you study by the window and he gets away with staring more than he should. Gaeul clicks her tongue disapprovingly whenever she notices but doesn’t say anything. When you send him pictures of the art on your coffee via KakaoTalk not knowing it was his own work, his heart somersaults in his chest.
Then it happens. It doesn’t necessarily come as a surprise. There has been a build up. You have been talking for a while, things are good, Sungho’s crush is bigger than ever and it has been slow enough. It’s no surprise that you have had enough of waiting around.
ynie: want to study together this weekend? we can meet at the campus library
psh: i would love to
psh: but i need you to know that i don’t usually look the way i do at the party
ynie: duh i didn’t expect you to wear glitters to the library
psh: not just that
psh: just promise me you won’t freak out?
ynie: pinky swear. it’s a date then!
You’re spinning a pen around your fingers and occasionally tap it against the open but empty notebook you have in front of you. Your laptop has long gone to sleep mode since you sat down in a quiet section of the library. Every few seconds you glance down at the row of bookshelves, then check the time only to realize again that you’re being way too early. Who is to blame you though?
Somehow you still manage to miss when somebody walks up to your desk and stops by its corner. You drop the pen when you look up, smiling at the familiar face with a little wave.
“Hi, Sungho!”
He’s wearing the same hoodie he did when you met the week after the party and there’s some unease in his soft eyes behind his glasses as he puts his bag down next to the chair across from you. He glances as you like he’s expecting you to tell him he can’t.
“Hi. So uhm…” He clears his throat, now clearly anxious, then he just starts undressing in the middle of the library.
Okay, maybe undressing is not the right word but he hooks the black mask off his ears, so it doesn’t cover his features. Then takes off his glasses too, putting them down on the table carefully before grabbing the hem of his hoodie and pulls it over his head. The movement messes up his blonde hair and he reaches up to brush his usually parted fringe into proper bangs. Some strands fall into his eyes that seem darker now without the reflection of the glasses on them. He nibbles on his lower lip absentmindedly and only then do you notice the shiny gloss covering them. He’s also wearing the same white crop top from the party.
It has you gasping audibly.
“It’s you. Really,” you whisper, trying to take it all in. His broad shoulders filling out the tee. The bright white overhead lighting highlighting his biceps you have failed to notice before despite how securely he held you. The way his Adam’s apple moves with a nervous gulp.
“You promised not to freak out,” he reminds you almost pleadingly and there’s something tense in his voice that has you look straight into his eyes, dark and almost feline, filled with something warm, something like hope.
“I’m not. It’s just…” You trail off, glancing once again at the bare skin peeking out from under the top and the way a pout sits on his pink lips, blonde strands of hair framing his face gracefully despite being ruffled up. It’s almost unfair. “Gender envy is real.”
You don’t even try to keep awe out of your voice and Sungho looks so, so confused.
“Are you not… angry?”
“Why would I be?” You tilt your head, matching his confusion with furrowed brows.
“I’m not a girl,” he says very seriously and very quietly like it’s some grave confession and the corner of your mouth twitches.
“Yes, I can see that. You’re still very pretty though,” you say with a smile that’s both amused and coy and if his widened eyes are anything to go by, that’s when he realizes.
“You knew!” He raises his voice like it’s an accusation and it has you giggle.
“Yeah, for a while. But it’s sweet that you put on gloss and a crop top for me today,” you smile wider.
In all honesty, it was a pretty embarrassing realization to come to in the middle of a busy metro station but better late than never. You don’t really care if he’s a girl or a guy, so you guess the whole ordeal stressed out Sungho more than you.
“So… is the date still on?” He asks tentatively as he lowers himself onto the chair.
“Yes, of course,” you beam at him even though you aren’t sure you will be able to focus on the study material when there’s something much more interesting in front of you.
You can’t be blamed for not at least trying but eventually you give up after an hour and suggest getting coffee. Sungho agrees easily and while you walk, you talk a bit about how the entire misunderstanding unfolded. He tells you how he wouldn’t have known you thought he was a girl if it wasn’t for Jaehyun’s big mouth and shares his friend’s crazy idea about ‘Sunghee’. You tell him how invested Jaehyun was whenever he has asked for updates and in the middle of semi-embarrassed laughter the topic turns into something lighter. When you stop to let a group of freshmen through, you slide your hand against Sungho’s palm. At first, he seems surprised, looking down at your fingers pressing against his like he can’t quite believe it but then he’s the one intertwining them. This time, you don’t even try to hide your smile.
Coffee turns into a much longer affair because both of you are pretty reluctant to leave. But midterm exams are coming up, you actually need to study, so it’s the sensible thing to do to call it a day when the sky starts darkening outside. When Sungho offers to walk you home, it makes you giddy but you spend the entire metro ride and 5-minute walk turning the same question over in your head. It slips out the moment you reach your apartment door.
“So… just to be on the same page, you’re my boyfriend now, right?”
It’s not the most romantic way to address the matter but you don’t care much about being romanced. Sungho seems a bit taken aback by the sudden question though and you wonder how long it will take for him to figure you out so well to not get startled by your directness. You hope it will be a very long time. Especially because he doesn’t seem to mind it.
“I’m whatever you want me to be,” he says eventually and you would call him out on being so cheesy if it wasn’t such a swoonworthy line.
“Good,” you smile and peck him on his lips, smearing the remnants of gloss on his mouth. It’s a bit like deja vu, repeating the past. Sungho blinks slowly under the corridor’s dim lighting. Your heart rate picks up when he leans back in, almost dazed, but you stop him with a hand over his chest.
“How slow do you want to go?” You ask, partly to be a tease about his earlier request and partly to be considerate. Sungho is not having it though, not this time.
He’s caressing your cheek with one hand and puts the other onto yours as he diminishes the remaining distance between you. You feel the door’s keypad dig into your back but still smile against his lips as he kisses you properly. It’s more coordinated now that you aren’t drunk but there’s something endearingly awkward in it as your nose bumps into his glasses. It’s just perfect.
Until the door opens behind your back.
You’re a bit too preoccupied and fail to recognize the familiar buzzing of the electric door lock in time. The only reason why you don’t fall is Sungho’s hand on the small of your back keeping you in place.
“Oh my god, can you not do that in public places?” Kazuha sighs and you scramble to stand properly beside your newly acquired pretty boyfriend, ready to introduce them. Your roommate however waves in his direction like it’s not their first time meeting.
You furrow your brows and glance from one of them to the other. “You two know each other?”
“He’s the guy who brought you back that night, after the party,” your flatmate explains.
“He’s the hot girl I made out with,” you counter, which leaves her wide-eyed and dumbfounded.
“What?”
“Long story.”
You’re in the middle of class assignment discussion after your English Literature class when you phone pings with a new message. You stand up right away when you see the contact name.
“Sorry, I’ve gotta go, my girlfriend’s waiting.”
“Wait, what?!” Jaehyun lets out a way too loud shriek in pure shock. “Are you and Sungho in an open relationship or something?”
You snort.
“God, no,” you shake your head. You honestly don't think you could share Sungho with anybody and no matter how corny it sounds, he really is all you need. “It’s just… when I asked him to be my boyfriend, he said he would be my anything, so once in a while I like to change things up."
It's good that Sungho is secure enough in his identity that such things don’t bother him. He knows you know (now) that he’s a guy and you love him regardless of gender. But that past misunderstanding is like an inner joke between you, like a funny anecdote you like to revisit. You once jokingly called him unnie just to see how he reacts. He tripped over his own feet and laughed in that part shy, part shocked way he usually reacts to being called yeppi too.
Dating Sungho is really the best thing that happened to you. He’s sweet and silly, he doesn’t care that you can be brash sometimes. He joins the book club and takes you out on coffee dates, movie dates, gallery dates. You do skincare together when you stay over, he helps you maintain your hair when you bleach it and he lets you put gloss on him when you go out to parties. But at the end of the day, he’s such a guy.
He leaves the toilet seat up, plays video games and forgets to eat while at it, manhandles you during play fighting just because he can and once a week he plays football with his friends which leaves him all sweaty and tired. You’re still not a big fan of the sport because it bores you but if it’s him playing you turn into the best cheerleader the world has ever seen. You practically run up to him when you see him waiting for you at your usual place near his workplace.
“Hi, baby. Good session?” You press a kiss over his shoulder that’s bared by the black tank top he has on and snuggle to his side. Now that you’re allowed, you can’t seem to keep your hands off him.
“Yeah, I’m starving though,” he says with a little whine in his voice which always makes you a little feral with cuteness aggression.
You start listing off options as you start walking hand in hand, the spring breeze sweetening the air around you. You’re just like any other campus couple but when people ask about your love story, you have a favourite version to tell:
His was sooo fun to read!!! I loved the little “she’s the man” moment here and YES we can all single-handedly agree that Sungho is gorgeous, pretty and handsome at the same time🥹❤️
Warnings: mentions of natural disaster, trauma, panic/fear responses, injury, emotional distress, blood (minor), abandonment, I think that’s all, but let me know if I’ve missed anything.
It’s finally (or unfortunately) here, the final part, the final wolf to find his mate. However, we still have a bunch of extras, so this isn’t goodbye just yet. And after reading this one, I think you guys will have a pretty good idea of what one of those extras will be!
Taglist: @voucearse, @nadiakittyy, @evemeri, @petunia05, @yumnyangiexx, @somswib, @mrcarrots, @seodami, @reiofsuns2001, @charlie-sk, @lacedwithmsg, @cherry012309, @mactuna, @mauschim, @dheimyoung-im23, @stayluneatinyengenezen, @nichobby, I hope I haven't missed anyone to the taglist, if I have, I'm so sorry, let me know and I'll fix it!
Network: @k-records
Please reblog, comment, and like if you enjoyed this!
Yudai/Kei 2. Yuma 3. EJ EJ extra 4. Jo 5. Nicholas 6. Special fic 7. Fuma 8. Harua 9. Maki
Aya = Kei’s mate Miyu = Yuma’s mate Sora = EJ’s mate Sana = Jo’s mate Rocky = Nicholas’ mate, Tara = Fuma's mate Willow = Harua's mate Luna = Maki's mate
Weeks had passed since the snow melted, and spring had fully claimed the forest around the village. Flowers dotted the grass in soft colors, and the trees were bursting with new buds. The sun grew warmer each day, and the wind that once cut through coats and scarves now felt like a welcome breeze. The pack was lively as ever. With the snow gone, construction had begun on a new cabin. The pack kept growing, and the village needed more space. It had started as a simple idea, but now half the pack was involved in some way.
Jungwon had officially asked if he could stay. He liked being around the pack, and especially around Jay. Since he had proven himself harmless (if a little dramatic), everyone had agreed. No one really minded having him around anyway. They were also building another cabin for Sunoo. The wizard was practically living in the village already, showing up nearly every day and only leaving late at night to return to town. Having a place here would make things easier. And, as Harua had loudly pointed out, cheaper.
Fuma stood near the foundation with a clipboard, overseeing everything like a foreman. “That beam needs to be level,” he called out calmly. Jo had drawn the original design for the cabin, sketching it out over several nights until it was exactly what they needed: simple, sturdy, and large enough for a couple of future pack members if necessary. Everyone else helped however they could.
Kei and Yuma lifted heavy beams like they weighed nothing. Nicholas and EJ argued over which screws belonged where while still somehow getting the job done. Aya and Sana painted wooden planks with careful strokes, while Miyu handed out water bottles and snacks to anyone who looked like they might collapse. Harua and Willow worked together measuring pieces before they were placed.
Sunoo stood nearby, occasionally using small bursts of magic to hold things steady while someone hammered. Jungwon mostly hovered beside Jay, pretending to help while actually just watching him. “Jungwon,” Jay sighed, “you’re holding the hammer upside down.” “Oh,” Jungwon said cheerfully, flipping it around. Near the edge of the construction area, Rocky sat cross-legged on a blanket with fabric swatches scattered everywhere, muttering about outfit concepts for the summer. Sora and Tara were looking at furniture online, seeing if they could find anything of interest. And off to the side, Taki stood on the half-built porch frame, hammer in hand. He drove another nail into the wood with a solid thunk. From the outside, he looked fine. Focused. Working hard.
While most of the pack spent their days at the village building the new cabin, Maki and Luna were in charge of keeping Koyomi open and running. With Miyu and Jay helping at the construction site, the café needed someone steady to handle things. So the two of them took over. Between customers, Maki studied behind the counter, textbooks spread out beside the register. He had missed a few classes here and there because of everything that had happened, but he had already proven he could keep up if he put the work in. Luna helped whenever she could, leaning over his notes and quizzing him between baking batches of cakes or kneading dough. And what she couldn’t help with, the rest of the pack made sure to cover.
Tara had become one of the biggest helpers. Everyone had been a little surprised when she first started tutoring him. No one thought she was stupid, of course not, but none of them had quite realized just how smart she was either. She could solve complicated math questions in seconds while the others were still staring at the first line. “Wait,” Nicholas had said once, watching her scribble down the solution almost instantly, “you just… did that in your head?” Tara had shrugged shyly. “It’s not that hard.”
Meanwhile, Maki had still been on step two. But Tara wasn’t just fast, she was patient. Instead of simply giving him answers, she guided him through the steps so he could understand how to get there himself. “Think about what the formula actually means,” she would say gently, tapping the page with her pencil. “If this number changes, what happens to the rest?” Slowly, it started to make sense. Fuma often watched those moments quietly from the side. He felt proud seeing Tara like this, a little bolder, a little more confident. She was letting more of her personality show now, speaking up when she had something to say. Yet she still found her comfort in the quiet moments with him, leaning against his side when things got too loud. And that balance suited her perfectly.
Fuma called out across the construction site, “Jungwon!” The vampire perked up immediately. “Yes, boss?” “We’re missing five planks,” Fuma said, checking the list in his hand. “Same type as before, same length. Can you run to the store?” Jungwon gave him an exaggerated salute. “Yes, sir.” Before anyone could say another word, he vanished in a blur of vampire speed. A minute later, he was back, dropping the planks onto the ground beside Fuma like it had taken no effort at all. Jay eyed him suspiciously. “Did you steal those?” Jungwon looked offended. “Wow. Good to know you think so lowly of your own brother.” Jay crossed his arms. “Did you pay for them?” “Of course I paid,” Jungwon said confidently. “With what?” Jay asked. Jungwon grinned and pulled something from his pocket, waving it in the air. Jay’s wallet. “Your card, obviously.” Jay stared at him in silence for a moment, looking like a man who had just aged twenty years despite being a vampire. Kei burst out laughing when he noticed Jay rubbing his temple. “Welcome to life with kids. Want some of ours?” Jay shook his head immediately. “No thanks. Jungwon is more than enough.” He pointed toward the village road. “And I already deal with Maki most of the time.” Kei and Fuma both laughed. “Fair enough,” Kei said.
Nearby, Taki finished screwing together the wooden frame pieces he had been working on and walked over to Fuma. “What’s next?” he asked, wiping his hands on his jeans. Fuma followed him back to the structure, crouching slightly to inspect the work. He nodded approvingly. “Good job. You lined these up perfectly.” Taki relaxed a little at the praise. “The next step,” Fuma continued, tapping the wooden frame, “is attaching it to the main structure.” He straightened up and called across the yard. “Nicholas!” Nicholas looked up from where he and EJ were arguing over a toolbox. “Yeah?” “Come help Taki lift this into place.”
Building the new cabin took time. Everyone still had their own jobs, chores, and schoolwork to keep up with, so progress happened in pieces, weekends, afternoons, long evenings where someone hammered while someone else painted. But after about a month, the structure finally stood complete. Walls, roof, windows, doors. All that remained now were the smaller details, furniture, some final coats of paint, and the little touches that would turn it into a real home. Still, finished or not, the pack decided it was time to celebrate.
That night, Koyomi was closed. Everyone was home. The village buzzed with activity as the celebration slowly came together. Inside the main house, Miyu and Maki worked side by side in the kitchen, preparing trays of food for a large buffet. Pots simmered, vegetables were chopped, and the smell of grilled meat drifted through the open windows. Nearby, Luna was busy baking, cupcakes, cookies, small pastries, anything sweet she could think of.
Outside, Kei and Fuma were gathering firewood, stacking it neatly beside the firepit they planned to light later that evening. EJ and Nicholas had already started setting up the outdoor grilling area, arguing over where everything should go while pretending they weren’t arguing. Harua, Willow, Jo, and Sana had gone into town to buy snacks, drinks, and anything else they might want for the night. Yuma and Rocky spread blankets across the grass and laid out tablecloths over long wooden tables, decorating the area so everyone would have somewhere comfortable to sit. Not far away, Tara, Aya, and Sora wandered through the fields and along the forest edge, picking wildflowers to bring back for decoration. And closer to the porch, Sunoo, Jay, Jungwon, and Taki dug through boxes looking for games they could bring outside later.
It hadn’t been that long ago that they were only the nine wolves. But now, just over two years later since the first mate was found, they had eleven new members. Twenty in total. An unusual pack, maybe. Wolves, humans, vampires, a witch, and a wizard all living together. But none of that mattered. They were family. They were pack. And nothing could change that.
When everyone returned, the celebration slowly settled around the firepit. The flames crackled warmly as night fell over the village, lighting up faces and sending sparks dancing into the dark sky. Plates were stacked high with food, sweets, and snacks scattered all around them. Blankets covered the grass, and the long tables were filled with everything Miyu, Maki, and Luna had prepared. Tara sat down beside Maki and Luna, glancing around as if waiting for someone. “Where’s Fuma?” she asked. “He’s coming,” Maki said, taking a bite of grilled vegetables. “Probably making sure Nicholas hasn’t set something on fire.” Tara laughed softly, then looked back at him. “How did your test go this morning?” Maki shrugged. “I think it went well. I felt good about most of the questions. Just three that I’m a little unsure about.”
Miyu overheard from across the fire pit and leaned over. “Soon you’ll have more time to study anyway. Once Jay and I can go back to work.” Maki smiled. “I can’t wait for my last exam. I’ll be so happy to finally be done with school.” “Don’t celebrate too early,” Jay called from the other side of the fire. “You still have to pass.” “I will,” Maki replied confidently.
A little further away, Taki lowered himself onto one of the blankets, settling down with his plate. From the outside, the scene was warm and lively, laughter, conversation, and people leaning against each other comfortably. Most of them had found their mates. Fuma and Tara. Maki and Luna. Rocky and Nicholas. Willow and Harua. Sana and Jo. Kei and Aya. Yuma and Miyu. EJ and Sora. Taki tried not to think about it too much. Still… the thought lingered. He felt a bit like an outsider. Not completely alone, though. Jungwon dropped down beside him, holding a deck of cards. “Hey,” he said cheerfully. “Want to play something?” Taki glanced at him, then smiled a little and nodded. “Sure.”
Fuma eventually came over and sat down beside Tara, Maki, and Luna. As he settled, he leaned down and kissed Tara’s temple softly. She smiled and shifted closer, settling comfortably against his side. In the background, music had started playing from someone’s speaker. Kei had already pulled Aya up to her feet, and the two of them were spinning around the grass, laughing as they danced together. Sana saw them and immediately grabbed Jo’s hand. “Come on!” Jo barely had time to protest before she dragged him up as well, and as usual, he simply went along with whatever she wanted, smiling as she twirled him around. Rocky watched them for a moment, then turned to Nicholas. “I want to dance too.” Nicholas sighed dramatically, but stood up anyway. “Of course you do.” She grinned as he took her hand and pulled her toward the others. Soon three couples were dancing together in the firelight.
Nearby, Taki and Jungwon had been joined by Sunoo, Harua, Willow, and Jay as they played a card game on one of the blankets. Jungwon kept accusing Jay of cheating, Jay insisted he wasn’t, and Sunoo kept dramatically announcing every move like it was a life-or-death battle. Not far from them, EJ and Sora sat curled up together on another blanket, watching everything unfold. Sora leaned her head against EJ’s shoulder, smiling softly. “Things are nice right now.” EJ nodded, wrapping an arm around her. “Yeah. Peaceful.” They watched their pack laugh, dance, and argue over cards around the fire. Sora hummed thoughtfully. “Which probably means something is going to happen soon.” EJ chuckled quietly. “Probably.” For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then Sora squeezed his hand. “But for now,” she said softly, “we can just enjoy it.” EJ kissed the top of her head. Together, they watched their family, happy, warm, and home.
~~~
A few days later, everything had settled back into its usual rhythm. Training had resumed for the wolves, and for the first time, they had something new to work with. Vampires. Jay and Jungwon had agreed to join the training sessions, giving the wolves a chance to practice against opponents who were faster and stronger in different ways. It was good for everyone involved, challenging, but helpful. “Too slow,” Jay said calmly as he sidestepped Yuma’s attack with ease. “I hate you,” Yuma muttered, already turning to try again. Nearby, Jungwon moved like a blur, dodging Jo and Harua while laughing the entire time. “Come on!” he called. “You guys are wolves, aren’t you supposed to be scary?” Jo lunged again. Jungwon vanished from where he stood and reappeared a few steps away, grinning. “See? This is why I don’t train with vampires,” Harua complained, slightly out of breath. At the edge of the field, Sora crossed her arms. “I could join too.” “No,” EJ said immediately. She looked at him. “Why not?” “Because you’re not getting punched by wolves.” “I can handle it.” “No.” She narrowed her eyes at him. EJ simply shook his head again.
Across the clearing, Fuma and Nicholas helped oversee the main training, keeping an eye on everyone and occasionally stepping in to correct someone’s form. But Kei had his attention focused elsewhere. “Taki,” he said, standing a few steps away from him. “Ready?” Taki nodded. They had been working for weeks on something important. His shift. For a long time, Taki had struggled to access it fully. But recently, something had begun to change. “Focus,” Kei reminded him. “Don’t force it.” Taki took a breath. His eyes flickered gold. Fur began to form along his arms as his claws extended, his body shifting halfway between human and wolf. The halfway shift. He held it. Not perfectly, but longer than before. Kei smiled slightly. “Good. That’s better.” After a moment, Taki let the shift fade, breathing out slowly. “You’re getting there,” Kei said. “At this pace, you’ll reach a full shift before summer.” Taki wiped sweat from his forehead, feeling both exhausted and hopeful.
A little further away, Rocky and Sunoo practiced magic together. Rocky stood with her hands glowing faintly violet, guiding the energy carefully through a spell circle drawn in the dirt. Her power had returned steadily over time. Not all of it. She knew it never would. Some of that strength had come from the oracle side of her magic, and that part of her was gone now. But she had made peace with that. What remained was still strong, more than enough. She didn’t need to rearrange continents or curse someone’s entire bloodline, she just needed to design and move pots and pans. That was good enough for her. Sunoo stood beside her, focusing as pale blue magic swirled around his fingers. “Careful,” Rocky warned. “Control first, power second.” Sunoo nodded. Thanks to her guidance, he had learned to manage the backlash his magic used to cause. His body no longer collapsed from exhaustion after every spell. He could push further now.
Together, they mostly used their magic for practical things around the village. Helping vegetables sprout in the garden beds. Clearing debris from paths through the forest. Lifting heavy fallen logs out of the way. Small things. Helpful things. Life had settled again. Peaceful. For now.
Meanwhile, Maki grinned as he circled Jungwon, the two of them watching each other carefully. Then Maki suddenly lunged. Jungwon moved quickly, trying to dodge the attack like he had done several times already, but this time he was just a fraction too slow. Maki’s fist connected with his ribs. A clear hit. Fuma smiled proudly from the side as Nicholas immediately called out, “Match!” The rule during training was simple: the moment someone landed a clean hit, the round ended. They didn’t want anyone getting carried away and accidentally hurting each other. “Maki wins!” Nicholas announced. Jungwon pouted dramatically, shoulders slumping. Jay walked over and patted his back. “It was just a training match.” “I know,” Jungwon sighed. “But I still wanted to win.” Maki jogged over to them, still smiling. “You almost had me. It was a hard match.” Jungwon glanced up at him. “Next time,” Maki added, “maybe you’ll win.” That seemed to cheer the vampire up a little.
Nearby, Kei looked over at Jay. “Think Taki can try a round with you?” Jay nodded easily and stepped forward, rolling his shoulders before turning toward the younger wolf. “Come at me.” Taki took a slow breath. Then his eyes flashed gold as he slipped into his halfway shift, claws extending, fur appearing along his arms, his body tensing with the shift in strength. The two of them began circling each other. Everyone else quieted slightly, watching. Then Taki lunged. Jay moved fast, even while holding back his full vampire speed, but Taki kept up as best he could, using every technique Kei had drilled into him. Dodge. Feint. Strike. He tried everything. For a moment it even looked close. But Jay’s experience showed in the end. He slipped past Taki’s last attempt and tapped him cleanly on the shoulder. Nicholas raised his hand. “Jay wins!”
Still, the clearing erupted with cheers. “Nice one, Taki!” “You’re getting faster!” “That was way better than last week!” Taki let his shift fade as he caught his breath, a small smile appearing despite the loss. He still felt frustrated sometimes, because he was slower than the others, a failure. But looking around at everyone cheering for him… He knew one thing for sure. He had the best family he could ever ask for.
~~~
Another few days later (SpongeBob voice 3 days later or something), the morning at the pack house started quietly. Jay sat at the table with a cup of coffee, scrolling through his phone. After a moment, he groaned loudly and slowly lifted his head, turning a sharp glare toward Jungwon across the table. EJ looked between them. “What’s going on?” Jungwon smiled sheepishly, already pushing his chair back. “You know… I actually just remembered something I need to,” “Sit down,” Jay said firmly. Jungwon froze, then slowly lowered himself back into the chair. Sora watched the scene with amusement. “Let me guess,” she said, leaning her chin on her hand. “We’re expecting another visitor?” Jay sighed deeply and nodded. EJ frowned. “What does that mean?” Jay rubbed his temple. “It means Jungwon apparently invited another vampire to visit.”
Jungwon gave a small wave. “Hi.” Jay continued, “His name is Niki. And Jungwon invited him without asking anyone.” EJ slowly turned his head toward Jungwon, his glare very clear. Before he could say anything, Sora lightly smacked his shoulder. “Relax,” she said. “Niki is about as harmless as Jungwon.” EJ looked unconvinced. “That’s not very reassuring.” Jungwon gasped dramatically. “I am extremely harmless!” EJ sighed heavily. “I still don’t like it.” Then he pointed at Jungwon. “You’re the one explaining this to everyone else.” Jungwon slumped in his chair.
At that moment, footsteps sounded from the stairs. Taki appeared, yawning as he walked into the kitchen. His hair was messy from sleep, and he looked only half awake. He didn’t say anything, simply grabbed the bag of food Miyu had prepared for the day from the counter. Then he headed for the door. “See you,” he mumbled, giving a small wave before stepping outside. The door closed behind him. Jay blinked and looked at the others. “Is he always that quiet in the morning?” EJ shrugged. “Sometimes.” Sora smiled slightly. “Other times he’s the loudest person in the house.”
Taki walked down the road toward school, the morning air cool and quiet around him. But his mind was anything but quiet. Even though the bullying had eased a lot over time, the school was still a difficult place for him. Just being there sometimes brought back memories he didn’t want to think about. If he let his thoughts wander too far, if he remembered the way people used to treat him, the whispers, the pushing, the cruel laughs, his wolf reacted. His eyes would start bleeding into gold. His nails would sharpen into claws. His fangs would grow longer. And now that he had finally learned to reach the halfway shift, holding it back had become even harder. The wolf inside him was stronger now. Closer to the surface. Sometimes it felt like it only took one bad moment to pull it free.
Taki shoved his hands into his pockets, exhaling slowly as he walked. He wondered what it would be like to have a mate. Would it really change things the way the others said it did? Would it act like an anchor? His thoughts drifted back to something his mother had told him when he was little. He had barely understood it back then, but the memory was still clear, or as clear as something from when he was four, or maybe just five years old, could be. She had once told him that when she was a young wolf, she struggled with control, too. Her temper, her shifts, her instincts, they were messy and unpredictable. But the moment she met his father… Everything changed. “It just clicked,” she had said softly. “Like something inside me finally settled.” Just thinking about his father made it easier for her to stay calm. Control became simple. Natural. Taki wished it could be like that for him. He wished he could believe that somewhere out there was someone who would make everything feel steady. But he didn’t dare let himself hope too much. Because if there was one thing he had learned growing up… It was that he wasn’t the luckiest wolf in the world.
Lunch used to be the worst part of Taki’s day. The noise, the crowds, the stares, it had once been something he dreaded every single day. But now… it wasn’t so bad. At first, he had been a little uncomfortable about Sana being there. When she first started joining him for lunch, he had worried it meant the pack didn’t trust him to handle things alone. Like he needed someone babysitting him. But over time, that feeling faded. Now he actually looked forward to it. Sana was easy to talk to, warm and cheerful in a way that made the tension in his chest loosen without him even realizing it. Aside from Harua, who was his brother, which was different, she was probably the closest thing Taki had to a best friend.
When he stepped into the loud cafeteria that day, the familiar wall of noise immediately made his wolf stir. Voices overlapping. Chairs scraping. Trays clattering. His wolf bristled inside him, uncomfortable with the chaos. But then he spotted Sana. She was sitting at a smaller table near the side of the room, waving enthusiastically the moment she saw him. She had saved them their usual spot, the one a little farther away from the biggest crowds. She knew he liked having some space. Taki smiled back as he walked over, feeling his wolf slowly settle again. The moment he sat down, Sana leaned forward excitedly.
“You will not believe how rude this girl in my class was today,” she started immediately. “We had to do peer review for our projects, and she just,” Taki chuckled softly as Sana launched into the story. Her hands moved animatedly while she talked, her frustration already halfway mixed with laughter. Listening to her, Taki felt some of the weight of the day lift. The school still felt like a dark place sometimes. But Sana was like a small star in that sky, bright, warm, and steady enough to guide him somewhere safe.
Sana watched him quietly for a moment, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers fidgeted with the edge of his lunch bag. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked gently. Taki shrugged, staring down at the table. “The usual stuff,” he muttered. Sana didn’t push. She just waited. Taki sighed after a moment. “It just feels like I’m… walking on eggshells around myself all the time. Like if I mess up even a little, everything could go wrong.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sometimes I feel like I’m a liability for the pack.”
Sana didn’t interrupt him once while he spoke. She just listened, letting him get the words out. Only when he finished did she respond. “The pack doesn’t see you as a liability,” she said calmly. “If anyone’s a liability, it’s the other humans and me.” Taki immediately shook his head. “That’s not true.” Sana gave a small shrug. “In a real conflict, we’re pretty helpless.” He frowned. “You’re not.” Sana tilted her head slightly but didn’t argue yet. Taki leaned forward a little, more serious now. “We wolves don’t see you humans like that. It’s the opposite,” he said. “Yeah, you might not be able to do much in a fight, but to have your mate makes you stronger.” He gestured slightly as he spoke. “Even Harua and Jo, who usually hate training, have been participating more lately. They’re stronger now, too. They said it themselves, they didn’t expect the mate bond to give them that much power.” Sana listened quietly. “They’re stronger because they want to protect you,” Taki continued. “That’s what the bond does.” He looked at her firmly. “So no. The girls aren’t liabilities.” Sana smiled softly at him. “Then neither are you.”
Lunch ended too quickly. Sana packed up her things and stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Jo and I will meet you after school,” she said. “I’m not working at the library today.” Taki nodded. “Same place?” “The usual spot.” They split up then, heading to their different classes. The rest of the school day passed faster than he expected. For once, his thoughts didn’t spiral the entire time. Sana’s words lingered in his mind, steady and grounding. Maybe she had actually gotten through to him. When the final bell rang, Taki walked outside and spotted them immediately. Sana was standing near the gate, chatting with her tall mate. Jo looked up and waved when he saw Taki approaching. “Ready?” Sana asked. Taki nodded.
The three of them started the walk back toward the pack village together. It was quiet, comfortable. Jo occasionally added a comment to Sana’s rambling stories, and Taki found himself listening more than worrying. For once, his mind felt… calmer. But the calm didn’t last long. As they approached the village clearing, something felt off immediately. There was tension in the air. And in the center of it all: Jungwon. He stood there with an awkward smile, while several members of the pack stared him down. EJ, Kei, Fuma, and Jay. All looking very unimpressed. As Taki, Sana, and Jo walked closer, it seemed everyone else was already gathered as well. Maki glanced down at his phone and groaned. “Can we get this over with already?” he said. “We’re going to be late for Koyomi. Miyu can’t run the restaurant on her own.” He rubbed his face. “It’s bad enough we already left her for two hours.” Yuma nodded in agreement, clearly unhappy with the idea. “Yeah. My mate’s not overworking because of this.”
Jay sighed and gestured toward Jungwon. “Go on. Explain.” Jungwon swallowed, taking a deep breath as everyone’s eyes settled on him. “So… I was talking with one of my friends,” he began slowly. “Another vampire. And I was telling him how nice it is living here. With the pack. How much fun we have and how everyone gets along,” He hesitated. “And?” Nicholas prompted. Jungwon winced. “And I might have… kind of invited him to visit.” Everyone who hadn’t already heard the news reacted immediately. “What?” “YOU DID WHAT?” “Jungwon!” He lifted his hands defensively. “I promise he’s harmless! Like me!” Jay muttered, “That’s debatable.” Jungwon ignored him and rushed to finish his explanation. “His name is Niki,” he said quickly. “And he’s really fun, I swear.” Then he added the final part even faster. “Oh, and he’s coming tomorrow.”
The clearing went silent for a split second. Then Jungwon immediately darted behind Jay, gripping his shoulders like a human shield. Jay slowly stepped to the side. Leaving Jungwon completely exposed to the group again. Jungwon stared at him in betrayal. “Traitor,” he whispered. EJ stepped forward, arms crossed, his expression serious. “We’ll allow the visit,” he said after a moment. A few people looked surprised. “But only,” EJ continued firmly, “because both Jay and Sora confirmed that Niki isn’t a threat.” Sora nodded calmly beside him. EJ’s gaze hardened slightly. “If he steps out of line even once, he leaves. Immediately.” Around the clearing, the others muttered their agreement. “Fine.” “Yeah.” “I guess.” But no one sounded particularly happy about it. Jungwon looked down at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. Honestly… He would have preferred if they were angry. Instead, they just sounded disappointed.
Maki, Luna, Yuma, and Jay soon headed off toward the restaurant, needing to get back to Koyomi before Miyu ended up handling the entire evening rush alone. The others slowly began to scatter as well, conversations breaking off as people returned to their usual tasks around the village. But Jungwon stayed where he was. Standing in the middle of the clearing, staring at the ground. Now that the moment had passed, it finally sank in. This… was exactly how everyone had reacted when he first arrived. Suspicion. Tension. Uncertainty. And he had just thrown another unknown vampire into the situation without even asking. He rubbed the back of his neck, realizing now how easily he could have avoided all of this. If he had just asked first. They probably would have said yes anyway.
A hand landed on his shoulder. Jungwon looked up. Taki stood beside him. “Don’t worry about it,” Taki said calmly. “They’ll forget about it before dinner.” Jungwon gave him a doubtful look. “Just… don’t pull something like this again.” Jungwon searched his face. “You’re sure?” Taki nodded. “I know that feeling,” he said quietly. “Disappointing them.” Jungwon’s expression softened slightly. “But as long as you show that you regret it,” Taki continued, “they’ll forgive you.” After a moment, he lightly squeezed Jungwon’s shoulder. “Now let’s go do something fun.” Jungwon blinked. “Like what?” Taki grinned a little. “Grab some swimwear,” he said. “Meet me by the pond.” Jungwon’s face brightened immediately. “Really?” “Yeah.” Jungwon nodded quickly, already backing away toward the house. “I’ll be there in a second!”
~~~
The next day, the atmosphere around the village was noticeably tense. Fuma and Nicholas stood near the edge of the clearing, both a little more rigid than usual. Even though Tara and Rocky had reassured them when Jungwon first arrived that everything had been fine, the wolves still had a lingering instinctive unease about unfamiliar vampires. It wasn’t personal. Just instinct. Maki felt it too. He leaned casually against the porch railing, but there was a sharp alertness in his posture. He had only recently found his mate, and the protective instinct that came with the bond was still strong. Very strong. The idea of an unknown vampire near Luna made him a bit on edge. Luna, however, was the complete opposite. She stood beside him with bright curiosity in her eyes, clearly excited to meet the newcomer. She had enjoyed spending time with the other vampires she’d met so far, and none of them had given her a reason to fear them. Maki had told her everything about what had happened with Sunghoon and Heeseung, so she understood why the others were cautious. But from her experience so far… Vampires had been pretty nice.
Jay stood nearby as well, arms crossed as he watched the road leading toward the village. He was a little uneasy, too. Not because he expected trouble, but because he hadn’t seen Niki in a long time. Sora, on the other hand, had spent far more time with the younger vampire in the past two years than Jay had in nearly five. Still, Jay trusted Jungwon. And Jungwon trusted Niki. So by extension… Jay trusted him, too. Just as Jay opened his mouth to ask Jungwon if he had heard anything about when Niki would arrive, the clock inside the house chimed. One. At that exact moment, a figure appeared at the edge of the village clearing. Everyone’s attention snapped toward him. Jay, Jungwon, Sora, EJ, Maki, and Luna were all outside waiting. The rest of the pack stayed inside the house for now. In the kitchen, Miyu was preparing lunch with the “help” of Taki and Yuma, though at the moment, they were mostly just getting in her way.
Outside, the newcomer stepped closer. Niki was tall. Taller than any of the vampires they had met before. He was about the average height of the wolves, which made his presence feel a little more imposing at first glance. But unlike when they had first met Heeseung or Sunghoon… Niki didn’t carry a threatening aura. Quite the opposite. The energy around him felt calm. Soft. Almost like the scent of chamomile, gentle, peaceful, and kind. Niki raised a hand when he noticed them watching, giving a relaxed wave. “Hi.” Jungwon immediately jogged over to him, clearly relieved to see his friend. He pulled him into a quick half-hug before stepping back.
“Hi,” Jungwon said, grinning. Then he turned and gestured toward the group waiting on the porch. “Okay, introductions.” He pointed first toward EJ. “That’s Euijoo, or EJ. He’s the alpha.” Niki gave a respectful nod in EJ’s direction. Jungwon then pointed to the woman beside him. “You already know Sora.” At that, Niki’s smile brightened a little more, and he waved at her. Sora waved back warmly. Next, Jungwon gestured toward Maki. “That’s Maki. The youngest wolf.” Maki gave a small nod. “But,” Jungwon added quickly, “don’t get on his bad side. He has a mean right hook.” Maki rolled his eyes. Jungwon continued, pointing to the girl beside him. “And that’s his mate, Luna. She’s an amazing baker.” Luna smiled shyly and waved. “And finally,” Jungwon said, stepping aside dramatically, “of course we have Jay.” Jay walked down from the porch steps toward them. “Hey,” he said simply. Niki looked genuinely excited to see him. “Jay! It’s been a long time.” Jay chuckled softly. “Last time I saw you,” he said, “you were still human. And a kid.” Niki laughed. “You barely reached my eyes back then,” Jay continued, looking him up and down. “Now look at you. Vampire and tall as a tree.” “Almost a tree,” Jungwon corrected.
EJ raised an eyebrow at that part of the story. “I thought you had been a vampire for a while,” he said, looking at Niki. Niki shook his head politely. “Oh, sorry,” he said quickly. “And hello, by the way. Sorry for the intrusion.” EJ gave a small nod for him to continue. “I actually grew up at the vampire coven,” Niki explained. “My mother was turned shortly after I was born, so I’ve always lived in the supernatural world, despite being human.” He rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly. “So I was raised with them… by them.” Everyone listened quietly. “About three years ago,” Niki continued, “I got badly injured. Really badly.” He glanced down briefly before finishing. “If I hadn’t been turned, I would have lost both an arm and a leg, maybe even my life.” There was a small pause. Niki then looked back up with a light smile. “So… they turned me.” He gestured slightly at himself. “And now here I am.”
Sora gently placed a hand on EJ’s shoulder, making him glance down at her. “Niki’s story isn’t that different from mine,” she said softly. EJ’s expression tightened slightly. Sora continued, “We both had reasons for being turned; there was more to it than just wanting to be a vampire, or being evil.” She glanced at Niki. “Actually… Niki played a big part in convincing Sunghoon to turn me. To save me, Sunghoon might not be the best vampire out there, especially in our eyes, but he was the only one who gave it a chance to turn me, to save me.” EJ stiffened the moment she mentioned how close she had come to dying. For a second, the thought clearly hit him all over again. EJ asked why Niki couldn’t have turned her; he should have been turned before her. “It doesn’t work like that, a newly turned vampire can’t turn someone else, it’s like, the venom that we use to turn others, doesn’t develop until years into being a vampire.”
EJ’s wolf was stuck on the reminder of how his mate almost died before he could meet her, but he forced himself to refocus, turning back toward Niki. “Welcome to the pack village,” EJ said firmly. “While you stay here, you’ll follow some rules.” Niki straightened slightly, listening carefully. “No feeding on humans,” EJ continued. “No fighting. And no stepping out of line.” His gaze hardened slightly. “You don’t go anywhere unsupervised. Got it?” Niki nodded immediately. “Of course.” “If those are the rules,” he added politely, “then so be it.” Sora leaned up and kissed EJ on the cheek. “Stop being so serious,” she said with a small smile. Then she gestured toward the house. “Come on. Lunch is waiting, and the rest of the pack is inside.” Niki jogged lightly to catch up beside her, though he made sure to keep a respectful distance. He knew wolves could be very territorial about their mates, and he had no intention of causing problems.
As they walked toward the house, Sora glanced at him curiously. “Did you ever find your special ability?” she asked. “You hadn’t when I left the coven.” Niki nodded. “I did actually.” Sora perked up. “Really? What is it?” Niki scratched the back of his neck. “It’s… kind of rare, apparently.” “What does it do?” “I can warp shadows,” he explained. Sora blinked. “Whoa,” she said. “That’s actually really cool.” Niki gave a small shrug. “Sure, it’s cool. But it’s not exactly useful.” He glanced at her with a half-smile. “Not compared to something like a healing ability.”
As they walked inside, Niki was immediately hit with a wave of scents. So many wolves, humans, magic, and food. His vampire senses flared for a second as he tried to process everything at once. The pack house smelled warm and lively, but it was also overwhelming compared to the quiet, controlled atmosphere of the coven. In the living room, several people were sitting on the couch. Sana, Jo, Taki, Harua, and Willow all looked up when they noticed the new arrival. They waved. “Hi!” Sana said brightly. “Hey,” Jo added with a nod. Taki lifted a hand in greeting, while Harua and Willow smiled. Sora pointed toward them as they walked past. “That’s Sana, Jo, Taki, Harua, and Willow.” Niki nodded, trying his best to remember the names. That’s… a lot of people. He had a feeling he might mix them up later.
They moved further into the house toward the dining area. There, another group sat around the table: Fuma, Tara, Nicholas, Rocky, Sunoo, Kei, and Aya. Sora repeated the introductions, pointing them out one by one. “And Rocky is a witch,” she added casually. “Sunoo’s a wizard.” Niki blinked. “Good to know,” he said. Then they finally reached the kitchen. Miyu stood by the counter, mixing something in a bowl while Yuma hovered nearby. When she noticed them, she waved enthusiastically. “Hi!” Then she looked down at her hands. “I’d shake your hand or something,” she said apologetically, “but they’re covered in egg.” She pointed at Yuma with the spoon. “Because someone made me mess up.” Yuma raised his hands in defense. “Hey, I just asked a question.” “A stupid one, of course, we have to remove the eggshells,” Niki chuckled at the sight. The house felt so… alive. People talking over each other. Laughing. Teasing. It was completely different from the coven he grew up in. Most of the elders there hated noise, especially laughter. Life in the coven had often been quiet. Ordered. Sometimes even boring. But this… This was chaotic in the best way.
Soon enough, everyone had gathered around the table, plates piled high with food. The pack filled nearly every seat, voices overlapping as dishes were passed around and people reached across the table for bread, vegetables, and whatever Miyu had prepared. Niki ended up seated near the middle. Jay sat on one side of him, while Taki sat on the other. Across the table sat Sora, with EJ on one side of her and Tara on the other. As everyone started eating, Niki glanced around the table, trying to match faces with the long list of names Sora had given him earlier. Okay… Sana… Jo… Harua… Willow… He was pretty sure he had those right. But the other wolves were harder. Two of them in particular kept giving him very intense looks. One of them he recognized as the mate of Rocky, the witch. That had been easy to remember. But the name of Rocky’s mate… That one had already slipped his mind.
The other wolf staring at him was even bigger, with broad shoulders, clearly strong. Either Fuma or Yuma. Niki was fairly certain the buff one was named one of those. He leaned slightly toward Jay, about to ask why those two seemed to hate him. But Jay was already deep in conversation with Maki. “If we add miso to the broth, it could work,” Maki was saying. Jay nodded thoughtfully. “But then we’d need to adjust the salt level.” Seeing they were occupied, Niki shifted slightly toward his other neighbor instead. He leaned closer to Taki. “Hey,” he whispered quietly. “Is there a reason those two wolves are glaring at me like that?” Taki followed his gaze and immediately chuckled. “Oh. Yeah.” Niki blinked. “That’s Nicholas and Fuma,” Taki explained. “They’ve probably had the worst experiences with vampires from your coven.” Niki winced slightly. “They acted the same way when Jungwon showed up,” Taki continued. “You just have to give them time to see you’re not a threat.” He paused before adding, “Or… well… that you’re not going to harm their mates.”
Niki tilted his head. “Wait,” he said slowly. “Were their mates the ones Heeseung and Sunghoon went after?” Taki nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.” Niki leaned back slightly, understanding dawning on his face. “Ah… yeah. That explains a lot.” The tension faded a little after that. Niki and Taki kept talking quietly between bites of food, quickly finding other things to discuss: life at the coven, vampire abilities, the village, and random stories from their lives. Before long, the conversation between them flowed easily.
Once most of the plates had been emptied and the table had settled into comfortable conversation, Sora leaned forward slightly, looking at Niki. “So,” she said, “what have you been doing these days?” Niki shrugged a little. “Not much, honestly,” he admitted. “Mostly just staying at the coven. Gaming… hanging around… stuff like that.” He poked lightly at the last bit of food on his plate. “I haven’t really had many chances to do anything else.” Tara tilted her head thoughtfully. “What would you like to do?” Fuma glanced at her, a little surprised that she had asked. His wolf stirred instinctively at the thought of a stranger staying longer than a simple visit, but when he saw that Tara seemed completely relaxed, he calmed himself again. Niki shrugged once more, a little awkward. “I’ve always liked dancing,” he said. “So maybe something with that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But I don’t really know how you’d turn that into… something real.”
Sana perked up immediately. “You could study dance at university,” she said. Niki blinked at her. “Really?” “Yeah,” she nodded. “Then you could work at dance studios. As an instructor, choreographer, background dancer, things like that.” Niki looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t know that was possible.” Sana smiled. “I’m studying writing,” she explained. “Jo is studying art. Taki is studying acting.” She gestured around slightly. “But we all still take regular classes too, math, history, stuff like that.” Then she added, “There are students at our university studying dance as well.” Niki leaned back slightly in his chair, thinking. Could he actually do something like that? The idea had never really seemed possible before.
Taki thought about Sana’s suggestion for a moment. Then he turned toward Niki. “How about you just come with me to university tomorrow?” he suggested. Niki blinked at him. “Really?” “Yeah,” Taki said with a small shrug. “People bring friends sometimes. As long as you don’t interrupt anything, the professors don’t really care.” He gestured casually. “It’s not a dance class or anything, but you’d at least get a feel for what university is like.” Niki looked interested, but he hesitated. His eyes shifted toward Jay, clearly asking for silent permission. Jay noticed immediately. Instead of answering himself, he leaned back slightly and nodded toward EJ and Fuma. “They’re the alphas,” Jay said. “Their call.” Everyone’s attention shifted to them. EJ took a moment to think it over. Technically, it wouldn’t break any of the rules. Niki wouldn’t be wandering around alone; Taki would be with him the entire time. And… another friend for Taki might actually be a good thing. After a short pause, EJ nodded. “I’ll allow it.” Taki smiled instantly. “Cool.” Niki’s face lit up as well. “I’m excited.” Maki snorted from further down the table. “I have never once been excited about school.” Tara looked at him with a small smirk. “You’ve been more excited since I started helping you study.” Maki pointed at her. “Yeah, because I’m closer than ever to finally being done with school.”
~~~
Not long after lunch, the group slowly began to break apart again. Maki, Luna, Jay, and Jungwon, the usual Koyomi crew, headed off toward the restaurant for the afternoon shift. As they left, Maki was already talking with Jay about the dish they had discussed earlier. Back at the village, the rest of the pack settled into their usual routines. Kei and Aya decided to take a walk around the territory. The weather had grown warmer, the air fresh with the scent of early spring. They walked hand in hand along one of the forest paths. Aya leaned her head lightly against Kei’s shoulder as they walked. “Can you believe we’ve been together for more than two and a half years now?” she said softly. Kei glanced down at her. “It still feels like yesterday,” she continued, smiling to herself, “the first time I met you… and you fell to your knees.” Kei groaned dramatically. “I thought we had put that behind us,” he said. Aya laughed. “No way.”
They continued down the path, the quiet forest surrounding them. As they rounded a bend, Aya suddenly slowed. “Hey,” she said, pointing ahead. Near the edge of the path, a small patch of plants had begun to sprout, green shoots pushing up through the soil. A few buds were already forming. Aya tilted her head. “I’ve never seen flowers grow here before.” Kei looked where she pointed. “Huh?” He crouched slightly to examine them. “Yeah… this spot’s usually bare.” He straightened again with a small shrug. “Rocky or Sunoo probably planted something here. They’ve been adding plants all over the territory lately.” Aya nodded, accepting the explanation.
They continued their walk. After a moment, Aya spoke again. “We should probably start planning Maki’s graduation party.” Kei raised an eyebrow. “There’s still more than two months.” “Exactly,” Aya said firmly. “Which means we should plan it properly. No last-minute chaos.” Kei chuckled softly. “Fair point.” He thought for a moment. “We can gather everyone when Maki’s at school one day,” he suggested. “Plan everything without him knowing.” Aya smiled. “Perfect.”
~~~
That night, the pack house had settled into a quieter rhythm. Most people had gone to their rooms or spread out around the house, relaxing after the long day. In the living room, however, the TV glowed brightly. Taki and Niki sat on the floor in front of it, controllers in hand. They had been playing for a while now. And Niki was absolutely destroying him. “Again?!” Taki groaned as his character was defeated for the fifth time. Niki laughed. “That’s five.” Taki leaned back against the couch, sighing dramatically. He did care about losing… a little. But honestly, he was mostly just having fun. Real fun. The kind he hadn’t had in a long time. For once, his mind was quiet. No constant thoughts about control. No worrying about shifting. No fear of disappointing the pack. All his brain focused on right now was beating Niki in the game, laughing at stupid mistakes, and enjoying the moment. It felt… nice. After a moment, Niki set the controller down. “Want to do something else?” he asked. Taki tilted his head.
“Actually, yeah. What’s your vampire ability?” Niki blinked. “My ability?” “Yeah,” Taki said. “Sora and Jay both have healing, Jungwon has that shapeshifting thing. You must have something too, right?” Niki nodded. “I do.” “What is it?” “I can warp shadows.” Taki frowned slightly. “What does that mean?” Niki glanced around the dimly lit living room. “Like this.” He lifted a hand slightly. The shadows along the wall shifted. Slowly, they gathered together, stretching and bending until they formed a new shape. A wolf. The shadow-wolf moved slightly across the wall as if it were alive. Taki’s eyes widened. “Whoa.” Niki gave a small shrug. “I can manipulate the shape of shadows… and where they appear.” The wolf-shadow stretched across the wall before dissolving back into normal darkness. “I’m also supposed to be able to turn into a shadow and move around like that,” Niki added. “But I haven’t figured out how to do that yet.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The elders said I’d eventually be able to, though.” “That’s so cool,” Taki said, still staring at the wall where the shadow wolf had been. Niki smiled a little. “Thanks.”
After a moment, he tilted his head curiously. “Can I see your wolf form?” Taki froze slightly. “I’ve never seen a wolf shift before,” Niki added quickly. Taki shook his head. Niki’s shoulders dropped a little in disappointment, but before he could say anything, Taki spoke. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he explained. “It’s just… I can’t.” Niki blinked, then nodded in understanding. “Oh. Hey, don’t worry about it.” He glanced around for a second before brightening. “Actually, earlier I saw some basketball stuff outside. Wanna play?” Taki chuckled. “Sure. But I’m terrible.” He thought for a second. “Actually, we should ask Jo and Nico to join. They’re really good.” Niki grinned. “I’d love to play with them if they’re up for it.” Taki closed his eyes briefly, sending out a mindlink to the pack. Anyone want to play basketball? The responses came almost immediately. Nicholas, Jo, Yuma, EJ, and even Fuma. Taki blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected that many people to agree. But he smiled and looked back at Niki. “We’ve got a whole team.” Niki stood up immediately. “Let’s go.” They headed outside toward the small court area near the house.
Not long after, the others joined them. Sana, Rocky, Sora, and Tara came outside too, settling down near the edge of the court to watch. Willow arrived a little later. “Harua’s asleep,” she explained as she sat down beside them. “But I’m not tired yet.” Soon enough, the group split into two teams. The game started quickly, the sound of shoes on the court and laughter filling the evening air. Nearby, the girls chatted as they watched. “So,” Sana asked Rocky, “how has work been lately?” Rocky smiled. “It’s been good.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just sent in the plans for my newest collection.” Sana’s eyes widened. “Really?” Rocky nodded. “Now I just have to wait and see if the brand approves it.” “And if they do?” Rocky smiled a little bigger. “It’ll earn us a lot of money.”
The basketball game was already in full swing. They had split into two teams. Nicholas, Fuma, Yuma, and EJ on one side. Jo, Taki, and Niki on the other. They had agreed that four against three would still be fair. Jo and Niki had both been very confident in their skills, and while Fuma, Yuma, and EJ were strong wolves, none of them were particularly great at basketball. Nicholas, however, absolutely was. So the teams balanced out well enough. The ball bounced across the court as the players ran back and forth, laughter and competitive shouts filling the evening air.
Nearby, the girls watched from the side. They cheered whenever someone made a good pass or a clean shot. But what they noticed most wasn’t the game. It was Taki. He was laughing loudly, chasing after the ball, grinning like a kid who had forgotten the rest of the world existed. He looked… lighter. Almost childlike. Willow smiled as she watched him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy,” she said. Sora, who had been part of the pack longer than most of the girls, nodded thoughtfully. “It shows sometimes,” she said. “Little moments here and there.” Her eyes followed Taki as he ran across the court. “But his mind has been clouded by a lot over the past few years.” She smiled softly. “So it’s nice when his real self gets to come out for a while.”
Rocky watched quietly for a moment before speaking. “I’m not sure why,” she said slowly, “but I have a feeling something big is coming soon.” Tara looked at her. “A premonition?” Rocky shook her head. “No.” “I don’t have visions anymore.” She leaned back on her hands, watching the game. “But… call it a witch’s intuition.” She shrugged slightly. “I just have a feeling.” Then she added quietly, “Though I don’t know anything for sure.”
~~~
The next morning, Niki was already awake. Very awake. He sat at the kitchen table, waiting. Fuma walked in a little while later, still fixing his hair back in place as he reached for the coffee maker. When he noticed Niki sitting there, he chuckled. “You know there’s still another hour before Taki even wakes up, right?” he said as he poured himself a cup. He took a sip before adding, “And another hour after that before he leaves for university.” Niki shrugged. “Sana and Jo already left.” Fuma nodded. “Yeah.” Tara walked in just then, stretching a little as she joined them in the kitchen. “They have earlier classes on Mondays,” she explained to Niki. “Taki starts later.” She smiled slightly. “And he enjoys sleeping in.” Fuma snorted. “They all do.” Tara laughed. “Especially Maki and Nico.”
Then she glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, speaking of Maki…” Her eyes widened slightly. “He’s going to be late if we don’t push him out the door in fifteen minutes.” Fuma sighed like a man who had been through this many times before. “I’ll wake him up,” he said, already setting his coffee down. He pointed at Tara. “If you make him a sandwich.” Tara nodded. “Deal.” As she began pulling ingredients out, she turned to Niki. “Could you help me reach that container on top of the fridge?” Niki smiled and stood up easily, grabbing it for her. “No problem.” Just as he handed it over, a loud voice echoed through the house. “GET UP!” Niki jumped slightly. Tara giggled. “See?” she said.
She began assembling the sandwich as she explained. “Whenever Maki has to get up early for work, it’s no problem.” She shook her head. “But school?” She laughed again. “It’s like he’s in a coma. He does not wake up peacefully.” Soon after, another voice echoed upstairs. Niki guessed immediately that it was Luna. “You shut up, and you get up!” she shouted. A loud thud followed. Niki looked over at Tara in confusion. She sighed. “Luna probably pushed Maki off the bed.” Niki nodded slowly, a small smile forming on his face. The pack house was so lively, it felt completely different from the quiet, rigid life he had known at the coven.
A moment later, heavy stomping came from upstairs. With his vampire hearing, Niki could clearly hear someone rushing around while muttering the same word over and over. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Fuma walked back into the kitchen just as Tara finished packing the sandwich into the container. “I added an extra bar too,” she said, closing the lid and handing it to him. Fuma nodded. “Thanks.” He held the container out, waiting. Niki watched curiously. A few seconds later, Maki rushed past the kitchen at full speed. He snatched the container out of Fuma’s hand without even slowing down. “Thank you, goodbye!” he blurted in one breath before disappearing out the door. The door slammed shut behind him. Niki blinked. Then he laughed.
Before the kitchen could fall quiet again, another set of footsteps came down the stairs. Taki appeared a moment later, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Fuma woke me up with all the screaming,” he mumbled. He stretched. “So I might as well eat breakfast before we leave.” Niki’s smile widened. “Good morning.” “Morning,” Taki said sleepily. The two of them began making sandwiches for themselves, grabbing bread and whatever ingredients were still on the counter. Across the kitchen, Tara and Fuma watched them for a moment, both smiling slightly. Then Fuma picked up his coffee again. “Come on,” he said softly to Tara. They headed outside together, ready for their usual morning walk around the territory.
~~~
After breakfast, Taki and Niki spent a bit more time in the living room, playing a few more games on the TV. The matches were just as chaotic as the night before, and once again, Niki won most of them. Eventually, though, the clock forced them to move. “Alright,” Taki said, standing and stretching. “Time to go.” They grabbed their bags and headed out toward the university. As they walked, they talked easily, like they had known each other for years instead of just one day. The conversation flowed from games to life at the coven to random stories about the pack. But the moment they stepped inside the campus building, Niki noticed something had changed. Taki’s shoulders stiffened. His posture became tighter, more guarded. Niki tilted his head. “What’s wrong?” Taki let out a quiet sigh. “School’s… complicated for me.” He hesitated before continuing.
“All my life, because of my wolf… and the trouble I’ve had shifting… I’ve never really been able to blend in with humans.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ve always been different.” He gave a small, humorless laugh. “And being different isn’t always a good thing.” Niki listened quietly. “I’ve been bullied a lot,” Taki admitted. “Pretty much my whole life.” His gaze drifted toward the floor for a moment. “I never really had friends at school.” He paused before adding something softer. “There was even a time when Kei had to come to my school every day just so I could eat lunch.” Niki blinked slightly. “Because if he didn’t…” Taki continued, “…I wouldn’t eat at all.” They walked a few more steps in silence. “So yeah,” Taki finished. “School’s always been a bit of a trigger for me.” He glanced around the busy hallway. “It’s better now. Since Jo and Sana started coming here, too. They kind of… keep people in check.” “But it doesn’t make the anxiety go away.”
Niki nodded slowly. “I get that.” He thought for a moment. “I wasn’t bullied,” he admitted. “I was kind of… somewhere in the middle. Not really popular, but not invisible either.” He shrugged lightly. “And I was human back then.” He glanced at Taki. “So I probably can’t fully understand what you went through.” Then he added quietly, “But I get why it makes you anxious.”
The first class of the day started easily enough. It was a history of acting class, going through the different ways people had performed throughout the ages. The professor talked about how acting styles had evolved, how older theatrical traditions focused on exaggerated gestures and projection, while modern acting often aimed for realism and subtle emotion. They also discussed what styles were currently most popular in the industry. Niki listened quietly beside Taki. It wasn’t exactly his favorite topic, but he still found parts of it interesting. Overall, it seemed like the start of a normal day. Across the room, however, Taki noticed a few familiar faces. His old bullies. They were watching the two of them. But their attention had clearly shifted toward Niki. Taki figured it was probably because of the unfamiliar person sitting beside him. Someone new. Someone tall. Someone they didn’t know how to handle yet. And for once… that attention meant they were leaving Taki alone.
~~~
Back at the pack village, the morning had settled into a quiet rhythm. Rocky was outside in the garden, carefully watering the vegetables they had planted there. The fresh green leaves swayed gently in the light breeze. Nearby, Nicholas stood beside a pile of logs, chopping them into smaller pieces for later use. The forest around them was peaceful. Especially compared to the chaos that had happened earlier when Maki was nearly late for school. Most of the pack members were scattered across town. Kei was away at a modeling job. Harua and Aya were working at Kyomei. Willow and Sunoo were at the veterinary clinic.
Inside the pack house, Tara sat comfortably on the couch, reading a book while Sora and EJ watched a movie together. Fuma was at work, running a special training session at the town’s gym. Maki was at school. Luna, Miyu, Jay, and Jungwon were at Koyomi. Yuma was at the design studio, putting together ideas for his next piece. And of course, Sana, Jo, Taki, and Niki were at the university. Everything seemed calm. Normal. Until suddenly, “NICHOLAS!” Rocky’s scream tore through the quiet village. Nicholas dropped the axe in his hands instantly and ran toward her without hesitation. Inside the house, EJ paused the movie the moment he heard the scream.
At that exact same time, across town at the veterinary clinic, Sunoo suddenly stiffened. His eyes widened. “Willow!” he called urgently. The two mages felt it at the same moment. A surge. Something powerful. And before anyone could even react, the ground began to shake. Hard. Buildings rattled violently. Dishes crashed inside houses. Cracks split through parts of the ground. An earthquake had hit. No one had expected an earthquake. At the pack house, the shaking came suddenly and violently. “Get down!” EJ shouted. He grabbed both Sora and Tara at the same time, pulling them close and shielding them with his body just as a large bookshelf behind them tipped over. It crashed down onto his back with a heavy thud. “EJ!” Sora screamed. “I’m fine,” he grunted through clenched teeth. “I can handle it. Just, stay down.” Tara clutched his arm, heart racing as the house rattled around them. “As long as you two aren’t hurt,” EJ added, trying to steady himself, “that’s what matters.” Outside, Nicholas had heard Rocky scream. He reached her in seconds, pulling her tightly against his chest as the ground beneath them shook violently. “Nico!” Rocky gasped, grabbing onto him. “I’ve got you,” he said firmly, wrapping his arms around her protectively as the garden soil cracked and shifted beneath their feet.
Across town at the veterinary clinic, Willow was already moving when the shaking started. “The animals!” she said urgently. Cages rattled. Equipment fell. A terrified chorus of barking, whining, and screeching filled the building. Sunoo raised his hands instinctively, magic flaring quietly under his skin. “I’ll handle them,” he said quickly. He focused on the animals, using what magic he could without making it obvious. The cages steadied. The frightened animals were shielded from falling debris. But a loud crash came from the front of the clinic. A window shattered. One of their coworkers cried out in pain. Sunoo flinched. “I,” He wanted to help. He could have helped. But he couldn’t let them see his magic. His hands clenched slightly as he forced himself to stay focused on the animals instead.
At Kyomei, the shaking sent racks of magazines and decorations tumbling. “Aya!” Harua shouted. He rushed to her side, grabbing her and pulling her down behind the counter. “Stay here,” he said, bracing himself between her and the rest of the store as objects fell around them. Aya grabbed his sleeve tightly. “Harua!” “I’m not letting anything happen to you,” he said quickly. Kei would never forgive him if he didn’t protect her. And more importantly, Harua himself wouldn’t forgive himself.
At Koyomi, the kitchen had become chaotic. Pots rattled violently. Glasses fell and shattered. “Out!” Jay shouted immediately. He and Jungwon rushed forward at the same time. “Miyu, Luna, move!” They grabbed both girls, quickly guiding them away from the kitchen and toward the main area where there was less risk of things falling. “Careful,” Jungwon warned as another loud crash came from behind them. Miyu clutched Luna’s hand tightly. “Please tell me the building isn’t going to collapse,” Luna said nervously. “It won’t,” Jay said firmly, though his eyes scanned the room carefully. “Just stay close.” Luckily, the restaurant had been empty when the earthquake struck.
At the university, Jo felt his heart drop. “Sana…” He wasn’t with her. They were in different buildings. He felt so close, yet impossibly far away. He immediately started moving toward the door, ignoring the panicked shouting around him.
At Maki’s school, the entire classroom shook violently. Students screamed. “Maki, don’t!” the teacher started when he moved. But Maki’s instincts had already kicked in. A large crack formed along the wall as part of it began collapsing inward. Several students were directly beneath it. Without thinking, Maki rushed forward. He shoved the crumbling section of wall the other direction with all his strength. The heavy structure shifted away from the students just enough to keep it from crushing them. Dust filled the air. No one seemed to notice what he had done. And Maki silently thanked the universe for that. But his heart was racing. Luna. He needed to know Luna was okay.
At the gym, Fuma froze when the shaking started. “Tch…” His first thought wasn’t for himself. It was for Tara. EJ and Nicholas were there. They would protect her. He knew that. But that didn’t stop the worry twisting in his chest. Yuma had felt the same, knowing Jay and Jungwon were with Miyu, they would protect her, but still, he worried. Kei did too. Wishing he could run to Kyomei and hold Aya close.
And finally, back at the university. The acting building was old. Too old. The shaking tore through the structure like it had no resistance at all. Cracks split across the walls. Chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling. Students screamed as parts of the floor began giving out. “Everyone out!” someone shouted. Niki immediately looked at Taki. And what he saw made his stomach drop. Taki’s breathing had become uneven. His wolf was reacting. Claws were slowly pushing through his fingertips. “Taki,” Niki said quietly. But Taki looked panicked. The fear. The noise. The chaos. It was all too much.
Without hesitation, Niki grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the far corner of the room, away from the crowd. “Come here,” he said quickly. He positioned himself in front of Taki, blocking him from view as much as possible. “Stay here,” Niki whispered. Taki’s claws were still half-shifted. Niki glanced around quickly, making sure no one was looking. Then he looked back at Taki. “Hey,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice calm. “Focus on me, okay?”
After ten long minutes of violent shaking and another smaller wave of rumbling about five minutes later, the ground finally settled. The worst was over. Dust hung in the air across the town. Sirens echoed in the distance. Half the town looked wrecked. Roads had cracked, windows had shattered, and several older buildings had partially collapsed. No one there had ever experienced an earthquake before, so the damage was worse than it might have been in a place prepared for them. News reporters were already everywhere, setting up cameras and broadcasting live as emergency services rushed between locations. “A powerful and unexpected earthquake has struck the region.” “A number of buildings have suffered structural damage,” “Authorities confirm several casualties.” A few lives had been lost. Thankfully, only a handful. Several others were injured, but most of the injuries weren’t life-threatening. It could have been much worse.
~~~
The first thing Kei did once the shaking stopped was reach out through the mindlink. Everyone report in. Are you okay? What about the mates? There was a moment of silence. Then Nicholas answered first. We’re okay, he said quickly. Rocky’s fine. Tara and Sora, too. EJ took a bookshelf to the back, but it’s just a bruise and a small tear. A second later, EJ’s voice appeared as well. It’s nothing. Next came Harua. Aya and I are fine. No injuries. Yuma checked in after that. I’m okay, too. Maki’s voice followed shortly after. I’m fine. Maybe a bruise on my shoulder, but it’s already healing. Jo answered next, his thoughts clearly strained. I’m okay… but I don’t know about Sana or Taki yet. Fuma spoke up. I’m fine as well. Then his tone shifted slightly. EJ… thank you for protecting Tara. EJ responded immediately. Of course. That’s what we do.
There was a brief pause. Then another voice joined the link, Sunoo. They had figured out a way for both him and Jay to connect to the mindlink despite them not being wolves. Willow and I are safe, Sunoo said. Some of our coworkers got minor injuries when a window shattered, but nothing serious. Jay’s voice came next. Everyone at Koyomi is okay. Luna, Miyu, and Jungwon, no injuries. He sighed. But the kitchen is wrecked. Honestly… most of the city looks like that. For a moment, the link was quiet. Then Kei asked the question everyone was thinking. Taki? Silence. Kei tried again. Taki, respond. Nothing. No voice. No thoughts. No response at all. A heavy worry settled over the pack. Jo’s anxiety immediately spiked. Taki? he called again, panic creeping into his voice. Still nothing. They couldn’t reach Niki either. He hadn’t been added to the mindlink yet. And right now, no one had any idea what had happened to Taki or Niki.
~~~
Inside the crumbling remains of the acting department, dust still floated through the air. Pieces of ceiling and plaster had fallen across the classroom, desks were overturned, and cracks ran along the walls like jagged veins. But in the corner, Niki had managed to keep Taki hidden from the rest of the students during the worst of it. He had positioned himself carefully, blocking anyone’s view while Taki struggled with his half-shift. Now that the rumbling had finally stopped, Taki squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his breathing to slow. Slowly… painfully… His claws retracted. The golden glow in his eyes faded. His wolf receded back beneath the surface. And just as he managed to regain control, something else caught his attention. A scent. Taki froze. It was strong. Sweet. Almost like strawberries. He had never smelled anything like it before. His senses sharpened instantly. The scent was unfamiliar… completely new. Yet something about it pulled at him in a way he couldn’t explain. His mind raced. What is that?
The only new person who had been in the room with him was Niki. But this scent, it didn’t belong to him. Taki slowly pushed himself to his feet. Pain shot through his leg, reminding him that it had been hurt during the collapse, but he barely noticed. His attention was completely elsewhere. He began looking around the damaged classroom, scanning every person, every corner. Niki frowned. “Taki?” No answer. “What are you doing?” Still nothing. Taki’s mind was racing. What is this scent? Who does it belong to? Why can I smell it so strongly? Why does it feel like it’s calling to me? His heart started beating faster. Because whatever it was, he felt drawn to it. Soon enough, Taki’s eyes landed on the source of the scent that had been driving his senses wild.
A girl. Or rather, a young woman. She was backed into a corner of the damaged classroom, her arms wrapped around herself as she tried to make herself as small as possible. She was crying. A few other students stood close to her. Too close. Taki recognized them immediately. His bullies. And it seemed they had already found a new target. Taki’s focus locked onto them. At the same moment, Niki noticed them too. He inhaled sharply. Now that he was paying attention, he could smell it clearly as well. The scent of a werewolf. And it was far too strong to belong only to Taki. That girl, she was a werewolf. And worse… She was close to shifting. Those bullies surrounding her were only making it worse.
“Taki,” Niki said sharply. Then louder, “Taki, go!” Taki didn’t hesitate. He limped across the broken floor toward them, ignoring the pain in his leg. The bullies barely had time to react before he shoved between them, forcing them back and placing himself directly in front of the girl. “Back off,” he growled. The bullies stumbled away in surprise. And then, suddenly, the entire room went dark. Not the normal kind of dark. Total darkness. Shadows poured across the room like a thick curtain, swallowing the light until no one could see anything. Except, Taki. His eyes shifted, glowing faintly as his wolf sight adjusted to the darkness. He immediately knew what had happened. Niki. He had warped the shadows, covering the entire room.
The bullies cursed and shouted in confusion. “Hey, what the hell?!” “I can’t see anything!” But Taki ignored them. He turned slightly toward the girl behind him and lowered his voice. “It’s okay,” he whispered gently. “You’re not alone.” The girl slowly looked up at him through her tears. Taki recognized her. (Y/n). They had been in the same classes for three years. Yet he had never known she was a werewolf. And he was almost certain she had never known he was one either. Being this close to her made the scent even stronger. Sweet. Overwhelming. Taki felt his wolf surge forward again, pushing for control. For a moment, his vision blurred as instinct tried to take over, but he forced it back. Barely. Because right now, the worry for (Y/n) was stronger than the fear for himself.
“I’m scared,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Taki understood that feeling better than anyone. Years ago, when he had tried to shift for the first time, he had felt the exact same things. The pain. The fear. The confusion. Wondering why it didn’t work. Why couldn’t he do what the others in his pack could do so easily? And right now, (Y/n) was experiencing all of it. Maybe she didn’t have a pack behind her. But the fear and pain were the same. Taki gently wrapped his arms around her. “Hold on,” he said softly. She immediately clung to him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Taki lifted her off the ground. His injured leg screamed in protest, and he groaned quietly, but he ignored it. If my brothers can do this… so can I. He limped toward the opening of the ruined classroom, carefully stepping over broken desks and fallen debris. Niki hurried over to them, immediately moving to Taki’s side. “I’ve got you,” he said, supporting some of Taki’s weight as they moved.
Together, they managed to get out of the damaged room and into the hallway. Once they were safely out, Niki released his focus. The warped shadows slid back into their normal places. Light flooded the hallway again. Students shouted in confusion as their vision returned. But the three of them didn’t stop. They moved across the campus grounds until they found a quiet, secluded corner away from the crowds and emergency responders. Finally, Taki carefully set (Y/n) down. The moment he did, his leg gave out slightly. “Ah!” He hissed in pain, grabbing his thigh as it throbbed sharply. (Y/n) had calmed a little by now, but fear still filled her eyes. Her breathing was uneven. And when she looked down at her hands, she froze. Claws. Sharp. Not human. Her eyes widened in horror. “I… I don’t understand,” she whispered shakily. “How… how is this possible?”
Taki and Niki exchanged a quick glance. Did she… not know? “What am I?” she asked again, her voice shaking worse than before. Tears streamed down her face, and she still hadn’t really looked at either of them closely enough to notice that they weren’t exactly normal either. Taki slowly reached forward and gently took her hand. She flinched immediately. “Don’t!” she said quickly, panic in her voice. “My claw, hand, I might hurt you.” But Taki didn’t let go. Instead, he carefully laced their fingers together, holding her trembling hand between his. He tried to give her the softest, most reassuring smile he could manage. “You’re a werewolf,” he said gently. “It’s okay. I am one too.” “But… how?” she whispered. That was when she finally looked at him properly. Her eyes widened slightly as she noticed the golden glow in his. He expected fear. Most people reacted that way. But instead, she just looked confused… overwhelmed… searching for answers.
Taki spoke softly. “You were born a werewolf,” he explained. “But you probably didn’t grow up with a pack. Maybe you were adopted by a human family or something like that.” He nodded toward her shaking hands. “So your wolf stayed dormant all these years… until now.” Her brows furrowed as she tried to process everything. “The fear… the danger from earlier,” Taki continued quietly. “That probably triggered it. It woke your wolf up.” She shook her head slightly, still struggling to believe it. “How… how is that possible?” Before Taki could answer, pain shot through his leg again. “Ah!” He groaned, grabbing his thigh tightly. The bone was trying to heal. But something was wrong. It wasn’t setting properly. Which meant it was most likely fractured and out of place. Taki looked over at Niki, breathing a little heavier now. “We need to bring her to the pack,” he said. “But I can’t move like this.”
Niki blinked. “…Taki.” “What?” “Use the mindlink.” Taki stared at him for a second. Then he laughed weakly. “…Right.” Of course, he would forget something that obvious. But before he could reach out to the pack, “Taki!” A familiar voice called out across the campus. Taki’s head snapped up. Jo. And Sana. They were running around looking for them, panic written all over their faces. Niki waved them over quickly. The second Jo reached them, he dropped to his knees and pulled Taki into a tight hug. “We thought we lost you,” Jo said, his voice thick with relief.
(Y/n) trembled when she saw the two new people rushing toward them. For a brief moment, fear spiked in her chest again. But as she watched them, really watched them, she noticed something different. The way they immediately ran to Taki. The panic in their voices. The relief when they saw he was alive. They looked like… family. Or something close to it. And suddenly a strange emptiness settled in her chest. A quiet ache she had never felt before. Is this… what a pack feels like? Is that what my wolf is reaching for? She had never had anything like that before. No pack. No one who understood her. Just confusion and a life that suddenly didn’t make sense anymore.
“Why didn’t you respond earlier?” Jo asked urgently as he pulled back from the hug, quickly looking Taki over. His eyes immediately landed on the injured leg. Taki rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I didn’t hear you guys,” he admitted. “A lot happened during the earthquake… and after it.” He shrugged slightly. “I guess the link couldn’t reach me because I wasn’t open to it.” Jo sighed in relief before hugging him again, tighter this time. “Idiot,” he muttered softly. “You scared us.” Then he stood up and looked over at Niki. “You hurt?” Niki shook his head. “I’m fine.” Jo nodded once before speaking into the mindlink. I found Taki. The response from the pack came instantly. He’s alive, Jo continued. But his leg’s injured. Niki’s fine. There was a collective wave of relief through the link. Then Jo added, But we’ve got someone else with us too. A girl. A pause. She appears to be a wolf. That definitely caught everyone’s attention. Questions immediately started flying through the link. Jo sighed. We’ll explain when we get back. It’ll take a while to get to the village.
Meanwhile, Sana had crouched down in front of (Y/n). “Hey,” she said gently. “Are you okay?” (Y/n) still felt completely overwhelmed. Her hands still had claws. Her world had just shattered. But physically… she wasn’t hurt. So she slowly nodded. Sana smiled warmly. “Good. I’m Sana, by the way.” (Y/n) hesitated before answering quietly. “(Y/n).” “Nice to meet you, (Y/n).” Behind them, Jo crouched down and, with Niki’s help, carefully lifted Taki onto his back. Taki winced slightly as his leg shifted. “Sorry,” Jo said. “It’s fine,” Taki muttered. Once he was secure, Jo stood up fully, adjusting his grip as he prepared to carry him all the way back.
Sana gently helped (Y/n) stand as well. “Come with us,” she said softly. (Y/n) looked around the damaged campus. Sirens. Broken buildings. People everywhere. Nothing felt familiar anymore. Then she looked back at the small group in front of her. They at least seemed to know what was happening. And right now… she had nowhere else to go. So after a moment, she nodded. And went with them. The walk back to the pack village took much longer than usual. The earthquake had turned familiar paths into a maze of broken ground, fallen trees, and cracked pavement. More than once, they had to detour around collapsed structures or unstable earth. Jo carried Taki the whole way, refusing to slow down despite the obstacles, while Niki stayed close in case he needed help.
Sana walked beside (Y/n), guiding her carefully over the uneven terrain. By the time they finally reached the pack village, most of the others had already made it back. The moment Kei saw Aya, he rushed straight toward her. “Aya!” He wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her against his chest. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice thick with relief. Aya hugged him just as tightly. “I’m okay, Kei. I’m okay.” All around the village, similar reunions were happening. Fuma pulled Tara into his arms the second he saw her. Yuma held Miyu close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Maki nearly tackled Luna with how fast he ran to her, hugging her like he never intended to let go. Harua wrapped Willow in a quiet but firm embrace. Nicholas still had Rocky held tightly in his arms; he hadn’t let go since the earthquake began.
Nearby, EJ and Sora stood close together as Sora carefully worked her hands over his back. “You really should let someone else handle the shielding next time,” she muttered as her healing ability worked through the bruise and tear on his back. EJ huffed softly. “And let a bookshelf fall on you instead?” Sora didn’t answer that. Just then, movement at the edge of the village caught everyone’s attention. Jo, Sana, Niki, and Taki, along with someone unfamiliar, were approaching.
“Taki!” Jay called immediately. He and Jungwon both rushed forward. “Careful,” Jo said as they reached him. Together, Jay and Jungwon helped take Taki’s weight while Jo lowered him carefully. “Let me see,” Jay said, already reaching for Taki’s leg. His hands began to glow faintly as he placed them over the injured area, his healing ability activating. Taki sighed in relief almost immediately as the pain began easing. Nicholas had released Rocky the moment he noticed them arriving. Now he walked over quickly, his expression tense as he looked at Taki. “You okay?” he asked. “Yeah,” Taki said. “I’ll live.” Around them, the rest of the pack slowly gathered. Relief spread through the group, seeing that Taki and Niki were safe.
But their attention quickly shifted to the unfamiliar girl standing behind Sana. (Y/n) instinctively shrank back. There were so many of them. Too many strangers. Too many eyes staring at her. Without thinking, she stepped behind Sana even more, gripping the back of her sleeve slightly as she hid from the group. Her claws were still out. Her fangs hadn’t receded. And her golden eyes made it painfully obvious what she was. A werewolf who hadn’t shifted back. And judging by the confusion and fear still written across her face… One who had absolutely no idea about this world she had suddenly been thrust into.
Fuma slowly walked over to the frightened girl, keeping his movements careful and non-threatening. “Hey,” he said gently. “My name’s Fuma.” (Y/n) stayed hidden behind Sana, gripping the back of her sleeve tightly, but after a moment, she answered quietly. “(Y/n).” Fuma gave a small nod. “Nice to meet you, (Y/n). Do you think you could step forward so we can talk?” She immediately shook her head. “I, I can’t.” Her voice trembled. “I’m scared.” Before Fuma could respond, Tara stepped up beside him and gently placed a hand on his arm. “Fuma, honey,” she said softly. He glanced down at her. “You should step back.” Fuma frowned slightly. “Why?” Tara gave him a small smile. “Because she’s obviously terrified,” she said. “And while we all know you’re basically a teddy bear… You don’t always look like one.” Her eyes briefly flicked toward his broad shoulders and muscles. Fuma opened his mouth to ask what they were supposed to do then, but Tara spoke again before he could. “Let me handle this, okay?” Fuma looked between Tara and the frightened girl for a second, then nodded. “Okay.” He stepped back, giving Tara and Sana space.
Tara moved a little closer, though she kept enough distance so she wouldn’t overwhelm the girl. “Hi,” she said warmly. “I’m Tara.” (Y/n) peeked out slightly from behind Sana. “I know you’re scared,” Tara continued softly. “But we’re not going to hurt you.” Sana gently squeezed (Y/n)’s arm. “Tara was scared, too, when she first came to us,” she added. “Just like you. But look at her now.” (Y/n) looked at Tara again. Compared to Fuma, Tara did look much less intimidating. Tara slowly held out her hand. She didn’t move closer, just waited. “You don’t have to do anything right away,” she said. “But if you want… You can come stand with me.” (Y/n) hesitated for a long moment. Everyone around them stayed quiet. No one pushed her. Finally, she slowly reached out. Her clawed fingers carefully wrapped around Tara’s hand. Tara smiled softly but didn’t tighten her grip, just enough to reassure her she was there.
With a small step, (Y/n) moved out from behind Sana. “There you go,” Tara said gently. Then she explained calmly, “Sana and I are human, so we can’t help you with the shifting part.” She gestured slightly toward Fuma. “But Fuma can. He’s a werewolf, too.” (Y/n)’s shoulders tensed again slightly. Tara squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I promise I won’t let go,” she said. “I’ll stay right here the whole time.” After a moment of hesitation… (Y/n) nodded. “…Okay.” And finally agreed to talk to Fuma.
As (Y/n) walked toward Fuma with Tara, her eyes drifted back to Taki. He was sitting on the ground a short distance away, his face twisted in pain. The person kneeling beside him had his hands glowing faintly as he tried to heal the injury. Even from where she stood, she could tell it wasn’t working very well. “He’ll be okay,” Fuma said gently when he noticed where her attention was. (Y/n) tightened her grip on Tara’s hand slightly. Now she was standing only a couple of steps away from Fuma. Tara gave her hand a small, reassuring squeeze. “I’m still here,” she whispered. Fuma crouched down slightly so he wouldn’t tower over her. “Alright,” he said calmly. “What’s happening to you right now is your wolf being active; neither you nor the wolf is aware of what’s going on, so we need to help both you and your wolf to understand, to calm down. You need to guide it back.”
(Y/n) swallowed nervously. “I don’t know how.” “That’s okay,” Fuma said. “I’ll show you.” He took a slow breath, then demonstrated. As the pack watched, his eyes briefly flashed golden, claws extending slightly before he calmly pulled them back again, shifting smoothly between wolf traits and human. “You focus on yourself,” he explained. “Your breathing. Your control. Think about being human again. Picture the claws going back to normal nails, your eyes becoming less sharp, your muscles relaxing around your face, your shoulders, your entire body.” (Y/n) nodded nervously. She tried. Nothing happened. Her claws remained. Her fangs still pressed against her lower lip. “Try again,” Tara encouraged softly. (Y/n) closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Slow inhale. Slow exhale. It took a few tries. But gradually, her claws retracted. Her fangs shrank back. And the golden glow in her eyes faded until they returned to their normal color. The moment the shift fully settled, the strength seemed to leave her body all at once. Her knees buckled. “Oh!”
Tara quickly crouched with her as (Y/n) collapsed to the ground, exhausted. “It’s okay,” Tara said gently, still holding her hand. “That happens sometimes.” (Y/n) was breathing heavily, completely drained. But she was okay. Across the clearing, things were a bit more tense. Jay frowned as he continued examining Taki’s leg. Something wasn’t right. Nicholas noticed the expression. “What is it?” he asked. Jay leaned back slightly. “Taki’s werewolf healing already kicked in when he got injured in the first place,” he explained. “But the bone didn’t set correctly, especially not since he was walking on the leg.” Taki groaned quietly. “That means the fracture started healing wrong,” Jay continued. “Which is why it still hurts. My healing can’t fix it unless the bone is set properly first.” Nicholas frowned. “So what do we do?” Jay met his eyes. “We have to break it again.”
Taki’s head snapped up. “You’re kidding,” “Are you sure?” Nicholas asked. Jay nodded firmly. “It’s the only way.” Nicholas sighed, turning to Taki. “Sorry, little brother.” Before Taki could even fully process what was happening, Nicholas grabbed his thigh firmly and snapped the bone. A loud crack echoed through the clearing. Taki screamed, the sound tearing out of his throat as his claws instinctively dug into the dirt beneath him. A low growl followed as pain surged through his leg. But just as quickly as it came, it eased. Jay immediately placed his glowing hands over the injury again. “Now it’ll work,” he said. The healing magic flowed through the bone properly this time, knitting it back together the way it should have from the start.
Jo slowly looked around the pack village, taking in the damage. Compared to the city, they had been lucky. The main house was still standing, and most of the smaller cabins were too. But the forest surrounding them had clearly taken the worst of the earthquake. Several trees had fallen, parts of the ground had split, and branches were scattered everywhere. He turned to EJ. “You were here when it hit,” Jo said. “How bad is the damage?” EJ shrugged slightly. “The main house took some hits,” he replied. “We probably lost most of the porcelain in the kitchen based on the sound, and the TV is probably broken since it fell down, and the bookshelf is beyond saving.” He glanced back at the house. “But that’s about all we know so far. We haven’t checked the rest yet.”
Aya exchanged a look with Kei before speaking. “We’ll take a look around the territory,” she said. Nicholas and Rocky nodded in agreement. “And we should check the pond too,” Nicholas added. Sunoo stepped forward. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “Just in case you need some extra magic.” (Y/n), who had been sitting on the ground beside Tara, looked up in confusion. “Magic?” Tara smiled softly. “Yeah… there’s a bit of everything here.” She gently pointed around the group as she explained. “Many of us girls are human,” she said. “But we also have vampires.” She gestured toward Sora, Jay, Jungwon, and Niki. “Rocky is a witch,” she added, nodding toward her. “And Sunoo is a wizard.” Then she motioned toward the rest of the group. “And the rest are werewolves.” (Y/n) blinked slowly, trying to process all of that. “…Oh.” It was a lot to take in. She nodded quietly, even though her mind was still racing.
Nearby, Miyu looked toward the main house. “If the kitchen survived,” she said, “I could make something for everyone.” After everything that had happened, they all looked like they could use something warm. “Comfort food sounds perfect right now,” she added softly. Yuma immediately followed her toward the house. “I’ll help.” Maki stood up too, stretching slightly. “Yeah, I’ll check what’s still usable.” Luna joined them as well. Together, the four of them headed inside, carefully stepping over broken porcelain and fallen objects as they started clearing space and figuring out what they could still use to cook.
~~~
As Aya, Kei, Rocky, Nicholas, and Sunoo walked through the territory, they checked the forest for fallen trees, cracks in the ground, and anything else that might have been damaged by the earthquake. Eventually, they reached the same spot Aya had pointed out earlier that morning. The place where flowers had been sprouting, where the ground was usually bare. Now the flowers had fully bloomed. But something about them felt… wrong. They were large, much larger than normal flowers, and each one was a different color. Deep red, bright yellow, pale blue, dark violet. Their petals seemed almost too perfect, standing tall despite the chaos the earthquake had caused around them. Aya tilted her head. “That’s strange,” she murmured. She began to crouch down, reaching out to touch one of the petals. “NO!” Rocky’s scream cut through the air.
Aya froze instantly, her fingers stopping just inches from the flower. Kei immediately grabbed her arm and pulled her back to her feet, moving her a few steps away from the strange plants. “What is it?” Kei asked sharply. Rocky stepped closer to the flowers, her face tense. “These flowers…” she said quietly. “They might be the reason for the earthquake.” Everyone looked at her. “What do you mean?” Kei asked. Rocky lifted one hand and murmured a quiet spell. A book appeared in her grasp. She opened it quickly, flipping through the pages with practiced familiarity. “I’m almost certain these are magical flowers,” she said as she searched. “Flowers that bring catastrophes to life.” Aya’s eyes widened slightly. Rocky suddenly stopped turning pages. “Aha.” She turned the book so she could examine the illustration and description more closely. “Just like I thought.”
She pointed to the page. “This combination of colors,” she explained, gesturing toward the blooms in front of them, “represents the rumbling of the earth.” She looked up. “In other words… an earthquake.” Kei frowned. “But how did they appear here?” Rocky slowly closed the book. “I’m not entirely sure.” She studied the flowers again. “My guess is they were planted here a very long time ago,” she said. “The magic needed to create these kinds of flowers has been lost for ages.” Sunoo stepped a little closer, examining them carefully. “So why did they activate now?” Nicholas asked. Rocky glanced at Sunoo, then at herself. “…Probably us.” Sunoo blinked. “Us?” Rocky nodded slowly. “These flowers react to magic,” she explained. “They probably sensed ours.” She gestured lightly between herself and Sunoo. “Having both a witch and a wizard nearby might have been enough to awaken them.” She hesitated slightly. “That’s just a guess, though. They could have also been planted with a time spell, only allowing them to bloom just now.”
Rocky looked back at Aya, her expression serious. “The reason I stopped you,” she said, “is because if someone without magic touches these flowers…” She paused briefly. “They turn you to stone.” Aya’s eyes widened. “…Stone?” Rocky nodded. “It’s a defense mechanism,” she explained. “A way to stop people from removing them.” Kei instinctively pulled Aya a little farther away from the flowers. “And if someone is turned to stone?” Aya asked quietly. Rocky’s voice grew even more serious. “Nothing can reverse it.” A heavy silence settled over them. “That’s terrifying,” Aya said softly. Sunoo nodded in agreement. “Yeah,” he said. “It really is.”
He stepped closer to Rocky, glancing between her and the flowers. “Are you sure we can touch them?” Rocky nodded firmly. “I’m sure.” She crouched beside the strange blooms. “I’ve done this before,” she said. “A long time ago.” Sunoo tilted his head slightly. “When I was still a child,” Rocky continued. “Back when I lived with my old coven, before I became an outcast.” Her eyes briefly darkened at the memory. “These flowers appeared near our territory, too. Everyone in the coven helped remove them.” She gently wrapped her hand around the stem of one flower. “You pull them out,” she explained. “Roots and all.” With a firm tug, she dragged the flower from the ground. The roots came free with a soft tear of soil. “And then you burn them,” she added. “That way they can’t reroot somewhere else.” Sunoo nodded. “Got it.” He stepped forward beside her. Together, the two mages began carefully pulling the strange flowers from the earth, placing them in a small pile nearby. A short distance away, Aya and Kei continued walking through the forest, checking the rest of the territory for damage. Nicholas, however, stayed behind. He leaned casually against a nearby tree, though his eyes remained fixed on Rocky as she worked. Keeping a quiet watch over his mate while the two mages removed the dangerous flowers.
Once the last of the strange flowers had been pulled from the ground, Rocky brushed some dirt from her hands and opened the book again. She flipped through a few pages before stopping, scanning the text carefully. “We’ll need to burn the soil,” she said. Sunoo looked at the ground. “Just to make sure there aren’t any roots left.” She tapped the page. “If we destroy them properly, the magic should fade.” Nicholas looked down at the flowers. “I can help carry them,” he offered, stepping closer. Rocky immediately shook her head. “No.” He paused, eyeing them cautiously. Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “Not even after they’ve been pulled out?” “Even then,” she replied. “They’ll still turn you to stone.” She nudged one lightly with the tip of her shoe. “They’re nasty like that.” Nicholas quickly pulled his hand back. “…Good to know.”
Rocky closed the book again. “We’ll burn them in the normal fire pit,” she said. “They’re quite pretty when they burn, it’s like fireworks, in a way.” Sunoo nodded. Nicholas straightened, glancing toward the forest path. “I’ll head back first,” he said. “Let the others know what’s going on.” Rocky nodded. “We’ll follow in a minute. Sunoo and I just need to use a little magic here first, burn any roots that might still be underground.” Sunoo lifted his hand slightly, already preparing a small spell. Nicholas gave them one last look before turning and jogging back toward the pack village.
When he arrived, he immediately noticed that most of the group was still outside. Taki, Jay, Jungwon, Niki, Sana, Tara, Fuma, and (Y/n) were all gathered in roughly the same spots they had been when he left. Taki was still sitting while Jay finished checking his leg. Nicholas looked around briefly. The only ones missing were EJ, Sora, and Jo. “Where are the others?” he asked. Sana glanced toward the row of cabins. “Checking the smaller houses,” she replied. Nicholas nodded slightly, looking toward the cabins where they had disappeared, inspecting the damage the earthquake might have caused.
Nicholas walked over to the fire pit where they had held their party a few days earlier. He began placing logs inside, stacking them carefully before crouching down to start the fire. A moment later, Fuma approached him. “What are you doing?” he asked, watching as Nicholas struck the flame. Nicholas glanced up at him. “Rocky and Sunoo found something out in the territory,” he said. “Magical flowers.” That immediately caught everyone’s attention. “Magical flowers?” Sana repeated. Nicholas nodded as the first flames began to catch on the dry wood. “They’re the reason for the earthquake,” he explained. “Apparently, different colors cause different catastrophes.” The group fell quiet for a moment.
Jay’s eyes widened slightly. “…Those flowers actually exist?” Nicholas looked up at him. “You’ve heard of them?” Jay nodded slowly. “I’ve read about them,” he said. “But only in very old texts, a long time ago.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve been alive for a few hundred years, and in all that time they’ve never appeared. The magic needed to create them was lost long before I was even born.” Nicholas leaned back slightly as the fire began growing stronger. “Rocky and Sunoo are removing the rest of the roots now,” he said. “Then they’ll bring the flowers here so we can burn them.” Jay nodded thoughtfully.
After a moment, Nicholas looked toward the girl standing a little behind Sana. “How are you doing?” he asked gently. (Y/n) shifted slightly, still looking somewhat unsure of where to stand. “I… feel a little better,” she admitted. “Still confused though.” Nicholas gave her a warm smile. “That’s understandable.” Then he turned toward his younger brother. “And you?” he asked. “How’s the leg?” Taki flexed it slightly. “It’s still a bit sore,” he said. “But I’m okay.” Jay nodded from where he sat beside him. “That soreness might last another hour or so,” he explained. “We had to snap the bone again to set it properly.” Taki grimaced a little at the reminder. “And the fracture lasted longer than it should have,” Jay added. “Werewolf bodies aren’t made for that kind of injury. They’re built to heal almost instantly.”
Soon, the fire in the pit had grown into steady flames. One by one, everyone moved closer, sitting down around it. Even though the spring sun was still up, it was slowly drifting toward evening, and the breeze had begun to carry a colder bite through the air. The warmth of the fire was more than welcome. (Y/n) hesitated for a moment before quietly sitting down. She ended up beside Taki. For a moment, she just stared into the flames, her hands resting in her lap. Then she leaned slightly closer to him and whispered softly, “Thank you.” Taki turned his head toward her. “For saving me,” she continued quietly. “And… for everything.” Taki’s ears turned slightly pink. He gave her a shy smile. “No worries,” he said softly. “I’m happy I could help.”
Taki could still smell it. That soft, sweet scent. Strawberries. He didn’t know why her scent reminded him so strongly of it, but now that she sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched, it surrounded him. And it made him feel… strange. Not bad. Just unfamiliar. It was warm and comforting, almost nostalgic somehow, yet completely new at the same time. It made his chest feel light, like something bright had settled there, but it also made his heart beat a little faster. Calm and anxious. Safe and nervous. He couldn’t explain it. But when he glanced at (Y/n), seeing her finally smile as she watched Harua and Willow joking around, a small laugh leaving her lips for the first time that day, something inside him settled.
For a moment, everything felt quiet. Peaceful. Complete. One by one, the rest of the pack gathered around the fire. Soon the whole group was sitting in a loose circle around the pit. Miyu came out of the house carrying a large pot. “I managed to make stew,” she announced. Yuma, Maki, and Luna followed behind her, carrying bowls and spoons. They began handing them out to everyone. The warm food was more than welcome after the long, stressful day. Just as everyone settled in, Rocky and Sunoo appeared from the forest path. Sunoo was carrying a bundle of the strange flowers carefully wrapped in cloth.
Immediately the group’s attention shifted to them. “Those are the flowers?” Tara asked. Even from a distance they were striking. Each flower was large, its petals bright and vibrant, every single one a different color. Several people leaned forward in awe. “They’re beautiful,” Sana murmured. Rocky quickly raised a hand. “Beautiful and deadly,” she reminded them. Everyone instinctively leaned back again. Nicholas stood and stepped closer to the pit. “Ready?” he asked. Rocky nodded. Sunoo carefully handed her the bundle. Then, one by one, Rocky dropped the flowers into the flames. The moment the first flower touched the fire, something incredible happened. The flames burst upward in a swirl of color.
Blues, reds, golds, and purples spiraled through the fire like living light. Gasps spread through the group. “It’s like a magic show,” Jungwon whispered. The flames twisted and danced, colors exploding through the air like soft fireworks. Even the air itself seemed to shimmer. Then, as the flowers burned away, something else happened. A low rumble passed through the ground. Everyone froze slightly. But this time, the shaking was gentle. Nothing like the violent earthquake earlier. Slowly, quietly, the earth around them began to settle. Small cracks in the ground pulled back together. Uneven patches of soil were smoothed out. The land itself seemed to relax. When the rumble finally faded, the territory looked far more stable again. There were still fallen trees and signs of damage from the earlier quake, but the ground itself was no longer broken and uneven. Rocky let out a quiet breath. “It worked.”
As the last of the strange flowers burned into nothingness, the colorful flames slowly faded back into ordinary fire. The rumbling beneath the ground stopped completely. For the first time since the earthquake, everything felt calm. Around the fire pit, everyone ate the warm stew Miyu had made, the quiet chatter of the pack filling the evening air. Taki sat beside (Y/n), slowly eating from his bowl. After a moment, he leaned a little closer to her. “Do you… want to go home tonight?” he asked gently. “Or stay here?” (Y/n) looked down at her bowl for a moment. “I’m not sure,” she admitted quietly. She shifted slightly, pulling her legs a little closer. “Home is supposed to be my safe place,” she said. “But right now… I’m kind of scared to go there. I don’t know how much damage there is to my home.” Her fingers tightened slightly around the spoon. “I don’t even know what I am anymore,” she added softly. “Finding out I’m a werewolf today… It’s just a lot.” She glanced around the circle. “But being here… with all of you… it makes me feel a little better.”
Before Taki could respond, Sora spoke from across the fire. “You’re welcome to stay,” she said with a gentle smile. Everyone looked toward her. “We have the space,” she continued. “And wolves are meant to have packs.” She gestured lightly around the group. “That’s probably why you feel safe here. Even if you’re not part of the pack yet, your wolf can still feel that you’re surrounded by other wolves.” Sora shrugged lightly. “And honestly, what’s one more person in our already huge family?” A few soft chuckles spread through the group. (Y/n) hesitated before asking, “But… what about the damage from the earthquake?” EJ answered this time. “Most of the damage was actually in the main house,” he said. He scratched the back of his neck slightly. “And that was mostly our own fault.” Everyone looked at him. “We never secured some of the shelves and cupboards properly,” he admitted. “So the bookshelf collapsed, a lot of the porcelain broke… and the TV is probably gone too.”
He shrugged. “The smaller cabins were built more carefully though. Only a couple of frames were damaged in two of them.” “That’s all?” (Y/n) asked, surprised. “Pretty much,” EJ said. (Y/n) looked around the group again. Everyone was watching her with calm, welcoming expressions. She smiled shyly. “Well… if it’s really okay…” Her voice softened slightly. “I’d like to stay tonight.” Immediately, several of them chuckled. “Of course it’s okay,” Miyu said warmly. Willow leaned forward slightly. “You can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in,” she offered. “Or some of mine,” Sana added with a smile. (Y/n)’s smile grew a little brighter as she looked at them. Their kindness felt almost overwhelming. She had only met them hours ago. And yet… Something warm settled in her chest as she watched them talk and laugh together. She found herself wondering quietly, Is this what it’s like… being part of a pack?
~~~
As the sun slowly disappeared beyond the horizon, the warm colors of evening fading into night, the pack began winding down for the day. It had been too long. Too chaotic. Between the earthquake, the damage around town, the strange flowers, and (Y/n)’s sudden arrival, everyone silently agreed that the rest of the night should be for rest. Tomorrow they would deal with whatever aftermath the earthquake had left behind. People slowly began heading toward the cabins and the main house. (Y/n) followed Willow and Sana inside, the two of them guiding her through one of the smaller cabins. “You can borrow whatever you want,” Willow said as she opened a drawer. “We’ll find you something comfortable.” “And something for tomorrow too,” Sana added, pulling a shirt from a shelf. “No one expects you to go home tonight.” (Y/n) nodded quietly, still feeling a little overwhelmed, but grateful.
Meanwhile, outside the main house, Rocky, Sora, and Aya stood together on the wooden porch. The evening air had grown cooler, but the firepit still glowed faintly in the distance. For a moment, they watched the others scatter toward their cabins. Then Sora spoke. “I’m not the only one thinking that (Y/n) could be Taki’s mate… right?” Rocky let out a soft giggle. “No,” she said. “I thought that too.” She leaned lightly against the porch railing. “It’s possible neither of them understands it yet, though,” she added. “Both of them have… complicated relationships with their wolves.” Aya nodded thoughtfully. “And the way Niki described what happened in the classroom,” she said, “that definitely sounded like how some of the boys reacted when they first met their mates.” Rocky hummed in agreement. Before they could continue the conversation, the door behind them opened. Kei stepped out onto the porch. He looked between the three of them with a teasing smile. “Are you girls out here gossiping?” Aya turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. “And what if we were?” Kei chuckled as he walked over. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her temple lightly. “Then I’d say that’s dangerous,” he joked. Aya snorted softly.
Kei glanced toward Rocky and Sora again. “Actually,” he said, “could I steal the two of you for a moment?” Rocky tilted her head. “For what?” “I need to discuss something with you,” Kei replied. Aya shrugged casually, slipping out from under his arm. “Sure,” she said. “I’ll go find someone else to gossip with.” She gave them a playful smile before heading down the porch steps, leaving Kei alone with Rocky and Sora. Sora and Rocky both looked at Kei expectantly, waiting for him to explain what he wanted to talk about. But Kei didn’t speak immediately. Instead, he looked… nervous. Unusually nervous. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing briefly toward the yard as if making sure no one else was nearby. Then he cleared his throat and leaned a little closer to them.
“I… wanted to ask for your help with something,” he said quietly. Sora tilted her head. “With what?” Before Kei could answer, Rocky suddenly straightened. Her eyes widened slightly in realization. “You want to propose to Aya, right?” Kei froze. He stared at Rocky like she had just shattered the moon above them. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, he nodded. He looked absolutely terrified. Sora and Rocky immediately squealed. “That’s so sweet!” “Oh my god!” “Shhh!” Kei hissed quickly, waving his hands at them. “You’re going to let the whole village hear you.” They both clapped their hands over their mouths, trying to contain their excitement. Kei let out a breath and leaned against the porch railing. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he admitted. “But after today… after the earthquake…” He looked down for a moment. “Being away from her while that was happening made me realize something.” He looked back at them. “I can’t wait anymore. I need to do it now.”
Rocky’s expression softened immediately. Without another word, she flicked her wrist. A small notebook and pen appeared in her hands in a brief shimmer of magic. She flipped it open like she was preparing for an official meeting. “Alright,” she said seriously. “What do you need help with?” Kei chuckled nervously. “Well… step one is figuring out Aya’s ring size,” he said. “I can’t exactly ask her directly, so I need to know before I get the ring.” Rocky nodded immediately, already scribbling something down. “Done,” she said. “Give me two days. Three tops.” Kei blinked. “Seriously?” Rocky grinned. “Please. You’re talking to a witch, and I’m a designer, the girls are used to me going to take random measurements all the time.” Sora nodded in agreement. Kei smiled in relief. “I knew you two were the right people to ask.” Then his expression turned serious again. “But no one else can know,” he added quickly. “Not yet. Not even Nico or EJ.” Sora and Rocky exchanged a look. Then both of them nodded. “Don’t worry,” Sora said. “We’ve got it covered,” Rocky added. “Your secret is safe with us.”
Meanwhile, inside the main house, Nicholas was sitting on the couch with Niki. The room was dimly lit, most of the others having already gone off to their cabins for the night. Nicholas leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “I wanted to thank you,” he said. Niki looked at him. “For what?” he asked. “For what you did for Taki today,” Nicholas replied. “In the classroom. Protecting him, helping him get out of there… all of it.” Niki gave a small smile. “I just did what anyone would have done.” Nicholas shook his head slightly. “Not everyone would have handled it the way you did.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing.
“And I also wanted to apologize,” he added. “For how I treated you when you first arrived.” Niki raised an eyebrow slightly. “I shouldn’t have been so hostile,” Nicholas admitted. “I judged you before I even knew you. That wasn’t fair.” Niki waved a hand lightly. “It’s alright,” he said. “You were protecting your family.” Nicholas smiled at that. “Well,” he said, standing up from the couch, “I’m glad you’re here with us.” Niki returned the smile. “Thank you.” Nicholas stretched slightly before heading toward the stairs. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “Sleep well.” “You too,” Niki replied, giving him a small wave. Before long, the entire village had grown quiet. The lights in the cabins and the main house slowly went out one by one, and eventually everyone settled into sleep after the long, exhausting day.
~~~
The next morning came quietly. Soft sunlight filtered through the trees surrounding the village, the air still cool from the night before. Luna was one of the first to wake up. Beside her, Maki was still sleeping heavily, sprawled across the bed without the slightest sign that he would be waking up anytime soon. Luna sighed softly, amused. “Figures,” she muttered. Carefully slipping out of bed so she wouldn’t wake him, she stepped outside, deciding to get some fresh air before the rest of the village started moving. The morning was calm. When she walked toward the fire pit, she noticed someone already sitting there. (Y/n). She was sitting on one of the logs surrounding the pit, her hands folded in her lap as she stared toward the rising sun. Luna approached slowly. “Hey,” she said gently. “Mind if I join you?” (Y/n) looked over at her. “Sure,” she said quietly. Luna sat down beside her. For a while, neither of them spoke. They simply sat there in the quiet morning, watching the sunlight slowly spread across the sky.
After a few minutes of silence, Luna glanced at (Y/n). “How are you doing?” she asked gently. (Y/n) shrugged slightly, her eyes still on the ground. “I don’t really know,” she admitted. “I’m still… in shock, I guess.” Luna let out a small chuckle. “Yeah,” she said. “I can understand that.” (Y/n) looked over at her. “You can?” Luna nodded. “I haven’t been in this world very long either,” she explained. “Only two or three months.” (Y/n)’s eyes widened slightly. “Really?” “Really,” Luna confirmed. “And when I found out Maki was a werewolf… I didn’t exactly take it well.” (Y/n) tilted her head. “What happened?” Luna sighed softly and looked down at the dirt beneath her feet. She nudged it with the tip of her shoe.
“Well,” she said slowly, “I called him a monster… and threw a glass at him before running away.” (Y/n) blinked in surprise. “What changed your mind?” Luna thought for a moment before answering. “Honestly?” she said. “I don’t think I ever truly believed he was a monster.” She looked up toward the trees surrounding the village. “I’d known Maki for a while before that. And he’d always been… sweet. Kind.” She paused. “It was my own fear that made me push him away.” (Y/n) listened quietly. “My fear of being rejected,” Luna continued. “Of being different. Of everything changing.” She gave a small smile. “He was never the monster,” she said. “My fear was.”
For a moment they sat quietly again. “But being here,” Luna added, gesturing lightly toward the cabins around them, “with the pack… it’s changed how I see the world.” (Y/n) glanced around the village. “I’ve learned a lot about myself,” Luna continued. “And I’ve learned to love myself more too.” She looked back at (Y/n). “There’s no one more welcoming or loving than this pack.” (Y/n) slowly looked down at her hands resting in her lap. “I still can’t believe it,” she murmured. “That I’ve lived for more than twenty years without knowing I was a werewolf.” She shook her head slightly. “It’s a lot to take in,” she said quietly. “Finding out you’re… a supernatural creature.”
“I can only imagine,” Luna replied softly. They fell into silence again for a little while, the quiet morning filled only with birdsong and the rustling of leaves in the trees. After a moment, (Y/n) spoke again. “What’s it like?” she asked. Luna glanced at her. “Being mated to someone?” Luna smiled a little. “Well,” she said, thinking about how to explain it, “as a human, it’s not that different from just being very, very in love.” (Y/n) listened carefully. “It’s different for the wolves,” Luna continued, “and for the vampires too. They’re the ones actually affected by the mating bond.” She nudged (Y/n) lightly with her shoulder. “If you’re curious, you could always ask the guys. Or maybe Sora,” she suggested. “They feel the bond much more strongly than any of us humans do.”
(Y/n) hummed quietly, her gaze drifting upward. A few birds were flying across the pale morning sky, their wings catching the sunlight. “I’ve always felt a little… different,” she said slowly. Luna didn’t interrupt. “Even before yesterday,” (Y/n) continued. “Compared to most people my age.” She looked down at her hands again. “I never really worked out or trained, but I was always stronger than most of my classmates.” She gave a small, uncertain laugh. “And during PE… when we had to run, I was always faster. I had more stamina than most of the guys too.” She paused. “I never understood why.” Her fingers curled slightly. “But now I do.” She exhaled slowly. “It was my genes,” she said. “My werewolf ones.” Luna’s expression softened. She gently wrapped an arm around (Y/n)’s shoulders and pulled her into a side hug. “It’s okay to be confused,” Luna said quietly. (Y/n) leaned into the warmth of the hug. “And it’s okay if you’re not fine with all of this yet,” Luna continued. “Finding out something like this changes a lot.” She squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay to want to cry,” she added. “Or scream.” Her voice softened even more. “It’s better to feel those things than to shut yourself down.”
“Thank you,” (Y/n) said quietly. Not long after, the door to the main house opened and Fuma and Tara stepped outside. When they noticed the two girls sitting by the fire pit, they walked over. Tara smiled. “It’s unusual seeing you up this early,” she said to Luna. Luna chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I just felt like it today.” Tara smiled warmly at that. Fuma looked toward (Y/n). “Good morning,” he said. “How are you doing?” (Y/n) gave the same small shrug she had earlier. “Still… kind of in shock.” Fuma nodded in understanding. “That’s fair,” he said. “It can be hard to wrap your head around all of this.” He gestured lightly toward the village. “But we’re here to help you, if you need it.” (Y/n) nodded, grateful. Then Fuma reached for Tara’s hand, their fingers lacing together naturally. The two of them began walking toward the forest path.
Luna watched them go for a moment. “EJ is the alpha of the pack,” she explained to (Y/n), “but Fuma is technically also an alpha.” (Y/n) tilted her head slightly. “He does a lot of the patrolling around the territory,” Luna continued. “Something he does every morning.” She smiled a little. “And ever since he found Tara, she goes with him.” (Y/n) watched the couple disappear between the trees. “That’s sweet,” she said softly.
A few moments later, another cabin door opened. Sana and Jo stepped outside, and not long after them Harua and Willow followed. The four of them spotted Luna and (Y/n) by the fire pit and walked over. Sana crouched slightly beside (Y/n). “How did you sleep?” she asked gently. (Y/n) hesitated before answering. “Not super well,” she admitted. “But… it was fine.” Sana nodded understandingly. Harua looked around the village briefly before speaking. “Have either of you seen Taki?” he asked. Luna shook her head. “No.” (Y/n) did the same. “I haven’t either.” Harua frowned slightly. “He spent the night in our cabin,” he said, “but he was gone when we woke up.” Luna blinked. “Already?” Harua nodded. “It’s weird,” he continued. “Taki never gets up first if he doesn’t have to.” He glanced toward the forest, confused. “And he definitely didn’t have to today.”
Luna nodded toward the forest. “Fuma and Tara just left for patrol,” she said. “If Taki’s out somewhere, they’ll probably find him.” Harua nodded slowly, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t disappear. “I know,” he said. “I’m just… a bit worried. I have a bad feeling.” Willow immediately wrapped her arms around him from the side, resting her head lightly against his shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” she said softly. “You’re overthinking.” Harua let out a small breath, leaning into her for a moment. Then (Y/n) spoke up quietly. “Do all of you have some sort of… sixth sense about things like that?” Harua tilted his head slightly. “Well,” he said, “both yes and no.”
He gestured vaguely toward the forest. “Rocky and Sunoo definitely do, since they’re mages. But the pack doesn’t have it in the same way.” (Y/n) listened carefully. “When you’re a wolf in a pack,” Harua continued, “you share a special bond with everyone else in it.” He tapped his chest lightly. “Through that bond, we can tell if someone dies. Or if they’re alive. We can’t really tell if someone is hurt unless it’s life-threatening.” Willow nodded along. “And sometimes,” Harua added, “the bond can make us feel when someone’s in trouble. But it’s not very clear. More like… a bad feeling.” (Y/n) slowly nodded.
“I’m not sure,” she said quietly, looking down at her hands. “But I think I might be feeling something like that too.” Everyone looked at her. “I woke up like I’d had a nightmare,” she explained. “My head was hurting. That’s why I came outside.” She glanced toward the trees. “But it felt like… I was supposed to meet someone.” Luna frowned slightly. “But I didn’t,” (Y/n) continued. “Not until you came out.” She hesitated. “And I still have that feeling. Like I’m supposed to find someone.” For a brief moment, silence fell over the group. Jo slowly lifted his gaze and met Harua’s eyes. Neither of them said anything. But the look they shared was enough. They needed to talk. Somewhere (Y/n) couldn’t hear them.
Just then, the door to one of the cabins creaked open again. Maki stumbled out. He looked far less like a werewolf and far more like a zombie, his hair messy and his eyes barely open as he shuffled forward. Without even looking around, he walked straight toward Luna. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind where she sat by the fire pit, burying his face against her neck. “Come back to bed,” he mumbled sleepily. “It’s too early.” Luna giggled. “It’s like ten.” “Mmm,” Maki murmured, tightening his arms around her slightly. “Too early.” (Y/n) watched the interaction quietly. Her gaze drifted from the two of them to the others nearby, Harua standing with Willow still holding onto him, and Jo beside Sana. There was something about the way they all moved around each other so naturally. The casual touches, the quiet comfort. (Y/n) felt something stir in her chest. It was a strange feeling. Maybe envy. Or maybe something closer to longing.
Before she could think about it too deeply, more doors around the village began opening as the rest of the pack slowly woke up. EJ and Sora stepped outside together, talking quietly. Kei followed shortly after with Aya at his side. Yuma and Miyu came out next, Miyu still tying her hair back while Yuma yawned beside her. Nicholas and Rocky joined them soon after, Rocky carrying a mug of something warm in her hands. Then came Jay, Jungwon, Niki, and Sunoo. Within minutes, the yard was filled with the entire pack. Well, almost the entire pack. Fuma, Tara, and Taki were the only ones missing. Fuma and Tara were easy to explain since they had already left for patrol. But Taki… Taki was still a mystery.
Nicholas crossed his arms slightly, looking around the area. “It’s strange,” he said. “Taki never wakes up this early.” Kei nodded in agreement. “Especially if he doesn’t have to.” Jay glanced toward the forest. “If you want,” he offered, “Jungwon and I could run around the territory and check. With vampire speed we’d be back in a few minutes.” Jungwon nodded in agreement. But EJ shook his head. “No,” he said calmly. Everyone looked at him. “Taki probably just has a lot on his mind after yesterday,” EJ continued. “He might not have slept well.” He glanced toward the forest line. “He’s probably just out on a mental health walk.”
(Y/n) listened quietly as the others talked, but something in her chest felt tight. EJ’s explanation didn’t sit right with her. He’s probably just out on a mental health walk. For some reason, deep inside, she felt that wasn’t true. Taki wasn’t just walking around. Something about the feeling from earlier, the strange pull in her chest, the sense that she was supposed to meet someone, was still there. But she stayed silent. Why would she know better than people who had known Taki his entire life?
A moment later, Jo cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said quietly to the other wolves. “Can we talk for a second?” Harua nodded beside him. “Just the wolves.” The request made EJ, Nicholas, Maki, Kei, and Yuma glance at each other before nodding. Without questioning it, they followed Jo and Harua a short distance away from the others. The girls stayed behind near the fire pit, talking quietly among themselves. Once they were far enough away, Jo spoke first. “It’s about (Y/n),” he said. EJ frowned slightly. “What about her?” Harua rubbed the back of his neck. “She told us something earlier,” he explained. “She woke up because she had a bad feeling.” Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “A bad feeling?” Jo nodded. “She said it felt like she was supposed to meet someone. Like she was supposed to find someone.”
The group went quiet. “But she doesn’t understand it,” Harua added. “Her wolf is still half asleep. It probably can’t communicate with her properly yet.” Kei crossed his arms, thinking. “So what are you suggesting?” Jo exchanged a look with Harua. “We think,” Jo said slowly, “that (Y/n) and Taki might be mates.” Nicholas’ eyes widened slightly. “That would explain some things.” The others looked at him. “Rocky told me yesterday,” Nicholas continued. “She suspected the same thing.”
EJ exhaled slowly. “If that’s true…” he murmured. The group waited for him to continue. “If they are mates,” EJ said, “it could explain why both of their wolves have been struggling.” Kei tilted his head slightly. “You think they’re connected?” EJ nodded. “They might be triggering each other,” he said. “Taki’s wolf has been awake for years, but he’s struggled with shifting. And (Y/n)’s wolf stayed dormant for over twenty years.” Yuma frowned thoughtfully. “If they’re mates,” he said, “maybe their wolves were waiting for each other.” For a moment, that idea hung in the air. Then Maki spoke. “But that doesn’t make sense.” Everyone looked at him. “If they were mates,” he said, “Taki should have known by now.” The others slowly nodded. “That’s true,” Nicholas said. “His wolf is awake. It’s been awake for years.” “And mates recognize each other,” Kei added. Silence fell again. Finally EJ sighed. “Then they probably aren’t mates.” Even as he said it, though, the uneasy feeling among them didn’t fully disappear.
While the boys were still talking a short distance away, Rocky glanced toward Sora. She gave her a small, subtle signal. Now. Sora caught it immediately and gave the slightest nod in return. Rocky clapped her hands lightly to get the girls’ attention. “Hey,” she said casually. “I actually need your help with something.” The girls looked over at her. “What kind of help?” Willow asked. Rocky smiled as she held up her hands. “I’m thinking about designing some jewelry for a possible new line,” she explained. “But I need some models first.” Sana tilted her head. “Models?” “Yeah,” Rocky continued smoothly. “Mostly rings and smaller pieces. But for that I’d need your ring sizes and stuff like that so I can make things that actually fit.” The girls exchanged glances. “That sounds fun,” Luna said immediately.
“Yeah, I’m in,” Willow added. Sana nodded too. “Sure.” Miyu shrugged with a smile. “Why not?” Rocky smiled brightly. Everyone agreed quickly. Everyone except (Y/n). She had stayed quiet through the whole conversation, assuming the idea was meant for the others. After all, they all clearly knew each other much better than they knew her. She didn’t think she was included. But then Rocky turned toward her specifically. “What about you, (Y/n)? Want to join too?” (Y/n) blinked in surprise. For a moment she hesitated. Part of her wanted to say no, mostly because she still felt out of place among them. But when all the girls looked at her expectantly, she didn’t quite have it in her to refuse. So she just nodded. “Okay.”
Rocky beamed. “Great!” Without wasting time, she gently grabbed Aya’s hand. “I’ll start with you,” she said. Sora watched the interaction with a small satisfied smile. Perfect, she thought. It worked. Beside her, Miyu noticed the expression immediately. She nudged Sora’s shoulder lightly. “Why are you smiling like that?” Sora quickly tried to hide it. “Oh, nothing,” she said casually. “I’m just happy.” Miyu narrowed her eyes slightly. “You’re lying.” Sora sighed quietly. Miyu crossed her arms. “So?” Sora glanced briefly toward Rocky and Aya before looking back at her. “You’ll find out soon enough,” she said. “But for now,” she added quickly, “I can’t say anything.” Miyu studied her for another moment before nodding slowly. “Well,” she said. “It better be good.” Sora grinned. “Oh,” she replied. “It is.”
While Rocky began taking Aya’s measurements, the others were still gathered outside. The boys eventually walked back over from where they had been talking, rejoining the group near the fire pit. Sana glanced toward (Y/n). “Do you want to go home?” she asked gently. “We could come with you. Help you check the damage and everything.” (Y/n) shook her head almost immediately. “No,” she said quietly. For a moment she didn’t explain further, but when Sana looked at her with quiet concern, she sighed softly. “I have two roommates,” she said. “They’re in the same class as me.” The girls listened carefully. “They saw me yesterday,” (Y/n) continued. “My eyes… the claws…” Her voice dropped a little. “I doubt they’ll let me back there.” Sana didn’t say anything. Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around (Y/n). Luna joined the hug a second later. Neither of them spoke. They just held her.
(Y/n)’s shoulders trembled slightly as a single tear slipped down her cheek. After a moment, Luna spoke softly. “It’s okay to cry,” she said. “If the boys are bothering you, we can send them away.” (Y/n) quickly shook her head. “No,” she said. “It’s not that.” She took a shaky breath. “The boys aren’t the problem.” Her eyes dropped to the ground. “I just… feel so lost.” Maki, who had finally woken up enough to properly follow the conversation, stepped forward. He stopped in front of her and slowly crouched down on his heels so he was closer to her height. “You might be lost,” he said gently. (Y/n) looked up at him through her tears. “But you found a pack.” His voice was calm but certain. “And we won’t abandon you. No matter what.” The others watched quietly as he continued. “We’ll stick by your side,” he said. “If you’ll allow us to.” He gave her a small smile. “We’ll teach you everything about our world.” He shrugged slightly. “Even if it takes thirty years.” A few of the others chuckled softly at that. “But we won’t give up on you,” Maki finished.
That was when the tears (Y/n) had been holding back since yesterday finally broke free. She leaned fully into Sana and Luna’s embrace, crying quietly as the weight of everything she had been carrying poured out. Maki gently leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the group as well. A moment later, Jo stepped in and joined the hug too. No one tried to stop her tears. They simply held her there, letting her cry, letting her release the fear and confusion she had been carrying. And slowly, through the warmth of their arms around her, (Y/n) began to understand something important. She didn’t have to pretend to be strong anymore. Not here. Not with a pack to fall back on. With them, it was okay to be weak.
The moment felt calm. Too calm. Then suddenly, a loud howl tore through the forest. Everyone froze. Heads snapped toward the trees. “Was that Fuma?” Miyu asked, startled. Yuma shook his head immediately. “No,” he said. “Too soft.” His expression grew serious. “That wasn’t an alpha’s howl.” While the others tried to identify the sound, (Y/n) stood completely still. Because she hadn’t heard a howl. She was sure of it. Instead, she had heard something else. Someone shouting her name. Her heart began to beat faster. A second howl echoed through the forest. And again, she heard it. Her name. Calling out to her. Her breath caught in her throat. Who is that? Why are they calling me? She looked around at the others, but no one else reacted the way she had. So she stayed silent. Maybe she was imagining it. Maybe she was going crazy.
Before anyone could say anything else, movement burst from the forest. Tara came running out from between the trees. Everyone jumped to their feet. She was breathing heavily, almost gasping for air. And there was a deep cut across her arm. Jay’s eyes widened immediately. “Oh no.” His gaze snapped toward Niki and Sora. Blood. As the youngest vampires, he wasn’t sure how well they could handle it. EJ reacted instantly, pulling Sora close and holding onto her tightly so she wouldn’t focus on the scent. Jay turned to Jungwon. “Hold Niki.” Jungwon nodded and grabbed Niki’s arm firmly. Meanwhile, Sunoo rushed over to Tara. “What happened?” he asked urgently. Tara was panting so hard she could barely speak. “Fuma,” she gasped. She struggled to breathe. “Wolf, needs help,” The sentence barely made sense. But Kei and Nicholas had already heard enough. Both of them were moving before she even finished. They took off toward the forest at full speed. “Maki! Yuma!” Kei called over his shoulder. The two wolves immediately ran after them.
Jo and Harua stepped forward, but Nicholas’ voice carried back through the trees. “You two stay!” If whatever had hurt Tara came closer, someone needed to protect the others. So they stayed. Jay moved to Tara and carefully took her injured arm. “Hold still.” A soft glow spread from his hands as he began healing the wound, removing the scent of blood before it could become a problem for the vampires. Everyone slowly gathered closer around the fire pit. Tension filled the air. But (Y/n) hadn’t moved at all. She was still standing exactly where she had been. Frozen. And the longer the silence stretched, the more something strange began to happen. A dull pain appeared in her side. Then her arm started to ache. A sharp sting ran through one of her legs. She frowned slightly, confused. The pain slowly spread through her body in small bursts. As if something somewhere else was hurting. But she had no idea why.
Just a minute earlier, deeper in the forest, Fuma and Tara were finishing the last stretch of their morning patrol. The forest had been unusually quiet since the earthquake. Too quiet. Fuma slowed slightly, his senses on high alert. Then a bush nearby rustled. Instantly, Fuma stepped in front of Tara. He inhaled sharply, sniffing the air. Wolf. But the scent was unfamiliar. Before he could figure out who it belonged to, a massive wolf burst out of the bushes with a vicious snarl. It lunged straight at them. Fuma barely managed to dodge the swipe aimed at him, but Tara wasn’t as lucky. A claw caught her arm as the wolf flew past, tearing a deep cut into her skin. Tara cried out in pain. Fuma’s head snapped toward her. “Tara!”
The wolf spun around, snarling again. Tara clutched her arm, already backing away. She knew what that look on Fuma’s face meant. He needed to fight. Which meant she needed to run. “Go!” Fuma shouted. And she did. Tara turned and sprinted toward the village as fast as she could. Behind her, she heard the sound she knew well. Bones shifting. Muscles expanding. Fuma’s wolf burst free as he transformed, meeting the attacking wolf head-on. The two wolves crashed together violently. Growls and snarls echoed through the forest as they fought. Fuma was bigger. Stronger. He should have been able to overpower the other wolf quickly. But something was wrong. The other wolf fought like it had lost its mind. Feral. Wild. It didn’t fight like a trained wolf from a pack. It fought like an animal that had completely lost control. That chaos made it difficult for Fuma to predict its movements. Claws scraped against fur. Teeth snapped dangerously close to flesh.
Then suddenly, movement between the trees. Kei arrived first, Nicholas right beside him, with Yuma and Maki close behind. They took in the scene in an instant. Fuma battling the wild wolf. Without hesitation, Kei and Nicholas shifted. Their transformations were fast and practiced, and seconds later two more wolves joined the fight. With three wolves against one, the balance finally tipped. They surrounded the feral wolf. Nicholas lunged first, biting down on its side. Kei attacked one of its front legs. Fuma clamped his jaws around the back leg. The wolf thrashed violently, snarling and snapping as it tried to fight them off. But the coordinated attack was too much. With Yuma and Maki ready to jump in if needed, the three wolves pressed their advantage. Another bite. Another hit. Finally the feral wolf staggered. Its legs gave out. It collapsed heavily onto the forest floor, chest heaving as its stamina finally gave out. For the moment, it was subdued.
Without warning, (Y/n) collapsed. She dropped to her knees, clutching her side as a scream tore from her throat. It was raw. Agonizing. Everyone froze in shock. “(Y/n)!” Sana cried, rushing toward her. Jay was already moving, dropping beside her as she writhed in pain. “Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” he said quickly, placing his hands near her side, trying to assess the injury. But then, he frowned. Confused. There was nothing there. No wound. No blood. No swelling. Nothing. Yet she screamed like she was being torn apart. “I don’t,” Jay started, clearly thrown off. “There’s no injury,” Another scream cut him off.
Rocky and Aya came running out from the house, startled by the noise. “What’s happening?” Aya asked urgently. EJ looked just as confused. “We don’t know,” he said. “She just fell and started screaming.” Rocky didn’t hesitate. She rushed forward and grabbed (Y/n)’s arm, her expression turning focused as she began casting a spell. Her eyes flashed white. For a brief moment, she saw it. Taki. On the ground. Screaming in pain. The vision snapped away just as quickly as it came. Rocky gasped and pulled back sharply, clutching her own hand in pain as the magic recoiled. Jay immediately reached for her, using his healing to ease the strain. “What did you see?” EJ asked. Rocky looked up at him, her expression shaken.
“I’m not completely sure,” she admitted. “But I think… (Y/n) and Taki are connected.” She swallowed. “I’m almost certain they’re mates.” A murmur spread through the group. “But not like the others,” Rocky added quickly. “This is… stronger.” EJ frowned. “What do you mean?” Rocky hesitated for only a second. “It’s possible they’re what’s called twin flames.” The words made the air feel heavier. “Their souls aren’t just bonded,” she explained quietly. “They’re one and the same.” Everyone went silent. Rocky glanced back at (Y/n), who was still trembling in pain. “So if (Y/n) isn’t actually injured…” she continued. Her voice dropped. “Then it means Taki is.” “And she’s feeling all of it too.”
A beat of silence. Then Tara’s voice broke through, shaky but urgent. “The wolf,” she said, looking toward the forest. “The one that attacked us.” EJ’s head snapped up. And suddenly, it all clicked. Taki. His wolf. He had never fully shifted before. He had no control. And his scent, would be completely unfamiliar. EJ’s eyes widened in horror. “They don’t know,” he said. “They wouldn’t recognize him.” His voice dropped. “They think he’s a rogue.” A heavy, sickening realization settled over everyone.
Out in the forest, Kei, Nicholas, Fuma, Yuma, and Maki, they weren’t fighting an enemy. They were attacking their own brother. Jungwon didn’t hesitate. The moment everything clicked, he took off. He didn’t wait for permission, didn’t say a word, he just ran. As a vampire, his speed far surpassed the wolves, and within moments, he reached them. The scene made his stomach drop. Taki, still in his wolf form, lay motionless on the ground. But even without being a wolf, Jungwon could tell, he was in pain. A lot of it. Yuma and Maki looked up as Jungwon approached, confusion written all over their faces.
“What are you doing here?” Yuma asked. The older wolves, Kei, Nicholas, and Fuma, remained in their wolf forms, watching him closely. Jungwon didn’t waste time. He pointed straight at the unfamiliar wolf. “That’s Taki.” Silence. Even in their wolf forms, he could tell they thought he’d lost his mind. But Jungwon didn’t explain. Didn’t argue. “We need to move,” he said urgently. “Now.” He stepped closer. “Bring him to Jay.” A beat. “(Y/n) is feeling all of his pain.” That made Maki and Yuma freeze. “What?” Maki asked. “How is that even,” “I’ll explain later,” Jungwon cut him off. “We don’t have time.” That was enough.
Nicholas, still in his wolf form, slowly approached the fallen wolf. Carefully, he sniffed him. At first, all he could smell was something unfamiliar. Wild. Wrong. But then, deep beneath it, there it was. Faint. But unmistakable. Taki. Nicholas froze. A wave of guilt hit him like a punch to the chest. Had I just… hurt him? My own brother? Jungwon noticed the hesitation and stepped closer. “We can fix this,” he said firmly. “But only if we move. Now.” That snapped Nicholas out of it. He nodded. Without wasting another second, Nicholas, Kei, and Fuma ran behind a cluster of trees, shifting back into their human forms. Moments later, they returned, dressed only in shorts, but ready.
Together, Fuma, Nicholas, Maki, and Jungwon, carefully lifted Taki’s wolf form. It took all of their strength. But they carried him. Fast. Back through the forest. Back to the pack. As soon as they broke through the trees, the others rushed forward. Jay and Sora didn’t hesitate. They dropped beside Taki immediately, hands already glowing as they began healing him. Energy flowed rapidly from them into his body. Slowly, very slowly, Taki’s body began to respond. And at the same time, across from them, (Y/n)’s screams faded. Her body relaxed slightly, though she still clutched her side, breathing heavily. The pain hadn’t disappeared completely. But it was easing. Which meant one thing. Taki was finally being healed.
After his injuries were healed, Taki’s body began to move again, slowly. Unnaturally. It shifted and twisted like it was trying to change back, like his body wanted to return to human form, but something was stopping it. Something was holding him back. He wasn’t fully conscious. Not in control. Across the clearing, Fuma rushed over to Tara, immediately checking her arm, his hands gentle despite everything. “Are you okay?” he asked. Tara nodded quickly, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m fine… just shaken.” Fuma held her tightly for a moment, grounding himself in the fact that she was still there. Still safe.
Not far from them, EJ knelt beside (Y/n), who was still on the ground. She looked lost. Completely lost. Her breathing had steadied, but her eyes… they were distant, unfocused, like she wasn’t fully present. “I don’t understand…” she whispered. “Why did it hurt? What happened? Why me… why now…” EJ tried to comfort her, his voice calm, steady, but it barely seemed to reach her. It was like she was trapped in her own thoughts. Her own fear.
A few steps away, Sunoo and Rocky sat surrounded by open books, pages flipping quickly as they searched for answers. Niki stood with them, scanning through another text, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Anything?” Sunoo asked. Rocky shook her head. “Nothing definitive.” Niki exhaled softly, eyes still on the page. “There’s no clear way to confirm it,” he said. “Not like this.” He glanced over at Taki… then at (Y/n). “Normally, the wolf would know.” Rocky nodded. “But her wolf just woke up yesterday,” she added. “And Taki… isn’t even conscious.” “So we’re stuck guessing,” Sunoo muttered.
Willow, who had been standing nearby, hugged her arms slightly. “How rare is it?” she asked quietly. Niki flipped a page, then paused. His eyes scanned a specific paragraph before he read aloud, “A twin flame soul connection only occurs about once every millennia.” That made everyone still. He continued. “For it to happen, two souls must be born at the exact same time… and be gifted the same blessing from the moon.” “The same… ‘tear of the moon.’” Silence settled over them. Willow blinked. “So… super rare?” Niki looked up. Then nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Super rare.”
Aya walked over and gently sat down beside (Y/n). EJ looked up at her and gave a small, grateful smile before stepping away, giving her space. So far, (Y/n) had seemed more at ease with the girls, it made sense to let them take the lead. Aya carefully placed her hand over (Y/n)’s. “Hey,” she said softly. “Can you hear me?” (Y/n) blinked, her distant gaze slowly focusing as she looked up at Aya. She nodded. “Yeah…” Aya gave her a reassuring smile. “Can I ask you a few questions?” Another slow nod. “Okay.” Aya hesitated for just a moment, choosing her words carefully. “When’s your birthday?” (Y/n) frowned slightly. “I… don’t know exactly,” she admitted. “I was adopted, I know that.” The others nearby quieted, listening. “My adoptive parents told me I was found in early May,” she continued. “Just a few days old.” Her fingers tightened slightly in her lap. “So my birthday is probably sometime at the beginning of May. But I don’t know the exact date.”
Aya nodded gently, encouraging her to continue. “I’ve always celebrated on May 11th,” (Y/n) added. “That’s the day they adopted me.” Aya gave a small smile. “Okay… and the year?” “That I know,” (Y/n) said. “2005.” Aya nodded again, then looked over at Rocky and Sunoo. “Does that help?” Rocky didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” she said. “It does.” Sunoo nodded in agreement. “It points more and more toward the same conclusion.” (Y/n) looked between them, confusion clear in her eyes. “What does that mean?”
EJ stepped back in, crouching down so he was at her level again. “You know how Sora is my mate?” he asked gently. (Y/n) nodded. “And how every wolf has a mate?” Another nod. EJ took a small breath. “We think… you and Taki are mates.” (Y/n)’s eyes widened slightly. “But more than that,” he continued, “we think you might be something called twin flames.” She stared at him. Uncomprehending. EJ softened his tone. “It means your connection is stronger than a normal mating bond,” he explained. “Much stronger.” He gestured lightly toward her. “That’s why you felt his pain earlier.” (Y/n) just looked at him. Silent. Like he had just spoken in a language she didn’t understand at all.
“But how?” (Y/n) asked, her voice small, fragile against everything she had just heard. EJ exhaled softly, shaking his head. “To be honest… we don’t know,” he admitted. “We’re trying to figure it out.” He glanced over at the wolf lying still on the ground. “But right now… I have a feeling Taki needs you.” (Y/n)’s gaze followed his. The wolf was big, far bigger than she had imagined. Powerful, even while unconscious. But instead of fear, something else stirred in her chest. A pull. Strong. Unavoidable. Like she was meant to be there. “How?” she asked again, quieter this time. EJ stood, then held out his hand toward her. “Come with me.” She hesitated. Just for a second. Then she placed her hand in his and let him pull her up.
Together, they walked over. “Someone be ready with a blanket,” EJ called. “If he shifts.” “I got it,” Jo said, already holding one. EJ nodded, then sat down beside the wolf. (Y/n) followed, her movements slower, more uncertain. “Sit,” EJ said gently. She did. “Now… put your hand on him. Carefully.” (Y/n) swallowed, then reached out. Her fingers brushed against the fur. Soft. Softer than she had expected. She let her hand rest there for a moment… before slowly dragging her fingers through it. And then, a spark. It rushed through her like a quiet surge of energy. Her whole body warmed, not burning, not overwhelming, just… right. Comfortable. Like stepping into something that had always been hers.
Her breath caught. As she continued to stroke the fur, something shifted. Her vision sharpened. Her hearing followed. Every sound became clearer, the wind through the trees, distant breaths, the subtle movement of bodies around her. The ground beneath her felt different too. Alive. Connected. Like she could feel it, not just touch it. She looked up at EJ. And froze. For a moment… it was like she saw him twice. Him, as she knew him. And behind him, a shadow. No. Not a shadow. A presence. A large, proud wolf stood where he sat, mirroring him, existing with him. It wasn’t threatening. Not at all. It felt… warm. Welcoming. Like it was looking at her and saying, You belong here.
(Y/n)’s breath trembled slightly. Everything felt different. Stronger. Clearer. Like something inside her had just… woken up. EJ didn’t say anything. He simply gestured back toward Taki. (Y/n) swallowed, her focus returning to the wolf beneath her hand. Her fingers were still buried in his fur, still tracing slow, careful movements. “I… I don’t know what to do,” she admitted softly. Her voice trembled, but she didn’t pull away. “But I know you called me before. I heard you.” A few of the others exchanged glances. “You’re not alone,” she continued, her voice a little steadier now. “I’m scared too… but we can figure this out. Together.”
The air felt different. Heavier. Charged. “Just… come back, okay?” she whispered. “I have so many questions…” A subtle shift. Barely noticeable at first. But the others felt it. “He’s stirring,” someone murmured. EJ’s eyes sharpened slightly. “Keep talking,” he said gently. Nearby, Miyu’s expression softened. She knew this. This exact moment. It mirrored her own past, sitting beside Yuma, speaking into the silence, hoping he could hear her, feel her. (Y/n) kept going. “I always saw you in class,” she said, a small, shaky smile forming. “Even when you thought no one was looking.” Her thumb brushed lightly over his fur. “You’re a great actor… I noticed you, a lot.” Another shift. Stronger this time. “Maybe… maybe that was the bond,” she said. “Even before I knew.” Her voice dropped slightly. “And yesterday… when I was scared… you came for me.” Her grip tightened just a little. “You carried me to safety.”
A sudden, sharp crack split through the air. (Y/n) gasped, instinctively pulling back, “It’s okay,” EJ reassured quickly, placing a hand gently over her eyes. “He’s shifting back.” More cracks followed. Bones realigning. The wolf’s form shifting, compressing, changing, then stillness. “Jo.” “I got it.” Fabric moved quickly as Jo stepped in, covering Taki’s human form with the blanket. After a moment, EJ slowly removed his hand. (Y/n) blinked, her vision adjusting. Taki lay there. Human again. Still. Too still. Her breath hitched. A tear slipped down her cheek as she reached for him, her fingers wrapping around his hand. “I’m here,” she whispered. “Don’t worry… I’m right here.” For a second, nothing. Then, a faint squeeze. Weak, but real. (Y/n)’s breath caught. He wasn’t awake. But he felt her.
“We should probably move him inside,” Sunoo said, glancing up at the sky. “Why?” Kei asked, following his gaze. “It’s going to start raining soon.” A few of them frowned, looking up. There were only a handful of clouds, nothing that would normally signal rain. But no one questioned it. Mages knew things. In ways the others simply couldn’t. “Great,” Rocky said brightly, clapping her hands once. “Then I can continue taking measurements for my jewelry collection.” Nicholas raised a brow, looking at her. “Since when are you doing jewelry?” “Since a few days ago,” she replied casually. He chuckled. “Then you better make me something too. Not just the girls.” Rocky walked up to him, reaching up to pat his cheek. “We’ll see, wolf boy.” Nicholas playfully snapped his teeth in the air near her hand. “Careful,” he warned lightly. She only grinned. Then they both leaned in, sharing a quick, familiar kiss. Sora watched them, shaking her head with a fond smile. “Neither of you are ever going to grow up,” she said. “You’ll always be like this.”
Rocky only shrugged, completely unbothered, before turning and grabbing Miyu’s hand. “You’re next.” Miyu laughed as she was pulled along. “Yes, ma’am.” The two disappeared inside, still chatting. Meanwhile, Fuma stepped forward, carefully lifting Taki into his arms, making sure the blanket stayed securely around him. “Let’s go,” he said quietly. EJ stayed close to (Y/n), gently helping her back to her feet. “Easy,” he murmured. She still looked overwhelmed, a little unsteady, but she nodded. “I’m okay…” EJ gave her a reassuring look before guiding her along. “To the infirmary,” he said. “He’ll be more comfortable there.” (Y/n) didn’t argue. She stayed close to him as they followed the others inside.
Behind them, the wind began to pick up slightly, and not long after, the first faint drops of rain started to fall. Inside the infirmary, everything felt quieter. Softer. EJ pulled out a chair for (Y/n), placing it gently beside the bed as Fuma carefully laid Taki down, making sure the blanket stayed in place. As soon as he was settled, (Y/n) reached for his hand again, her fingers wrapping around his without hesitation. EJ glanced at her, his expression gentle. “Do you want anything? Water, tea, food, snacks… anything?” She shook her head lightly. “No… I’m okay.” He nodded, not pushing. “Do you want someone to stay with you? Or… do you want to be alone with him?”
(Y/n) hesitated, thinking it over for a moment. “I think… I’d like it if someone was there.” “Of course,” EJ said softly. “How about Luna or Sana?” (Y/n) nodded. “That’s fine.” With that, EJ and Fuma stepped out, closing the door behind them. Outside, the rain had already begun to fall, harder. Luna and Maki were still sitting on the porch, watching it. They both looked up as EJ and Fuma approached, pausing when they heard what was asked of them. Without hesitation, they agreed, standing up and making their way to the infirmary.
Back in the infirmary, the door opened again. (Y/n) looked up, offering them a small, grateful smile as they entered. They returned it, but didn’t say anything. Not yet. Instead, Luna and Maki settled down on the floor a little distance away from the bed. Their fingers intertwined naturally, and Luna rested her head against Maki’s shoulder, the two of them sitting in comfortable silence. The room stayed quiet. Only the faint sound of rain tapping against the windows filled the space. (Y/n) found herself glancing back at them every now and then. Each time, something stirred in her chest. A small tug. A feeling she didn’t fully understand. Something warm… but aching. And when she turned back to Taki, still unconscious, still unmoving, that feeling grew stronger. Clearer. Like whatever connected them was pulling tighter, gently but insistently, reminding her, she wasn’t just sitting beside him. She belonged here.
Meanwhile, in the main house, the mood was much lighter, at least on the surface. Rocky moved from person to person with surprising efficiency, notebook in hand, jotting down measurements as she went. Rings, bracelets, even the occasional wrist measurement, she made it all seem casual, like it truly was just for a new jewelry line. And while Aya’s measurements had been the most important, Rocky didn’t stop there. If anything, she leaned into it more. Laughing, teasing, making small comments as she worked, anything to keep suspicion far, far away. And really, it wasn’t a bad idea to have everyone’s sizes. Kei might not be the only one thinking about that kind of future. Not in a pack like this.
A little further away, on the back terrace, Sora sat beside Kei, her legs tucked under her as she leaned slightly toward him. “So,” she said, lowering her voice just a bit, “details.” Kei glanced at her, already looking mildly stressed. “I told you,” “You told me the idea,” Sora cut in, smiling. “Now I want the vision.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “…I was thinking the pond.” Sora’s eyes softened immediately. “That’s actually really cute.” “It’s the most romantic place we have,” he muttered, a bit defensive. She nudged him lightly. “I’m agreeing with you, idiot.” He huffed quietly, then continued. “I thought… maybe flowers. And candles. Like, forming a heart shape.” Sora’s smile widened. “And?” “I’d stand in the middle,” he said, a little more hesitant now. “And when she walks over… I’d just, ask.”
There was a brief pause. Then Sora hummed thoughtfully. “Okay, yes, it’s a little cliché,” she admitted. Kei groaned. “But,” she added quickly, “it’s also very Aya-coded. She’s going to love it.” That seemed to ease him, just slightly. “…You think so?” “I know so.” Before she could say more, footsteps approached. Aya. Almost instantly, both Sora and Kei straightened a bit, the air between them shifting as if nothing had been said at all. Aya smiled as she reached them. “What are you two talking about?” Sora didn’t miss a beat. “(Y/n) and Taki,” she said smoothly. “We were just wondering how we can help them.” Aya’s expression softened at that. “Yeah… that’s a lot to take in.” Kei nodded along, playing his part. “Especially the twin flame thing.” Aya sat down beside him, clearly none the wiser. Sora watched her for a moment, then stood up, brushing her clothes off lightly. “I’ll leave you two,” she said casually. “I was going to find Euijoo anyway.” Aya nodded. “Okay.” And just like that, Sora slipped away, hiding a small, satisfied smile as she went. Step one was already in motion.
~~~
After a few long, quiet hours, something finally changed. Taki stirred. It was subtle at first, a small shift, a faint tightening of his fingers, but (Y/n) felt it instantly. Her grip on his hand tightened as she leaned forward, her breath catching. “Taki…?” His brows furrowed slightly before his eyes slowly opened, unfocused and heavy, like he was waking from something far deeper than sleep. For a moment, he just stared at the ceiling. Disoriented. Everything felt… wrong. Or maybe just distant. Like his body wasn’t fully his yet. “…What…” his voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. “What happened…?” (Y/n)’s eyes filled with relief so fast it almost overwhelmed her. “You’re awake…” Her voice trembled, and she had to bite back the urge to cry again. Taki turned his head slightly, his gaze landing on her. And then, something settled. He didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand why she was there, why she was holding his hand, but it felt right. Comforting. Like she should be there. Like she always had been. Even if he couldn’t remember.
Before he could say anything else, Maki’s voice suddenly cut through the room. “Oh, he’s awake.” And just like that, reality came crashing back. Taki’s eyes widened slightly as awareness hit him all at once, his body tensing under the blanket. “…Wait,” Maki, completely unbothered, added: “You’re naked, by the way.” Silence. Then immediate embarrassment. Taki froze, gripping the blanket instinctively. “…Why would you say it like that,” he muttered, voice strained. Maki just shrugged, already turning toward the door. “I’m gonna get the others.” And with that, he left, far too casually for the situation he had just dropped on Taki. The room fell quiet again.
Taki avoided eye contact for a second, clearly trying to process everything at once, his body, the situation, the fact that he apparently had no clothes on, but then his gaze drifted back to (Y/n). Still holding his hand. Still there. “…You stayed?” he asked quietly. Before she could answer, the door burst open again. Nicholas and Kei rushed in, both visibly soaked from the heavy rain outside, their clothes clinging slightly, hair dripping onto the floor. “Taki!” Nicholas didn’t hesitate for even a second. He crossed the room and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it was you, I,” Taki blinked, caught off guard, his body stiff at first before slowly relaxing into the embrace. “…It’s okay,” he said, voice softer now. “I don’t even remember it.” And that was true. The past few hours were nothing but fragments. Blurred. Broken. Like a dream he couldn’t quite piece together.
But still, he hugged Nicholas back. And for some reason, he felt… relieved. He didn’t fully understand why. But something in him had been tense before. Unsettled. And now, with his brother there. With (Y/n) beside him, that feeling eased. Everyone else arrived only minutes later. The infirmary, which had been quiet for hours, suddenly filled with people again. Sana stepped forward first, holding a folded set of clothes. “Here,” she said, handing them to Taki before glancing around the room at the others. “At least someone here has a functioning brain.” A few of them chuckled awkwardly. With a bit of help sitting up, and with everyone politely turning their backsm Taki managed to change, pulling the clothes on beneath the blanket before finally sitting upright on the bed. The movement made him wince slightly, his muscles stiff and sore.
Jay stepped closer immediately, going into healer mode. “How are you feeling?” he asked, carefully checking him over again. His hands hovered over Taki’s arms and shoulders, scanning for any remaining injuries, but there were none. Taki shifted a little, testing his body. “…Sore,” he admitted. “But otherwise… I think I’m okay.” He paused. “At least I think I am.” Jay nodded slowly, satisfied for the moment. Then EJ spoke. “Okay,” the alpha said, his voice steady but serious. “There’s a lot we need to talk about.” The room immediately quieted. Everyone’s attention shifted toward him. Taki looked at EJ too, confused but attentive, waiting for whatever explanation was coming. But nothing could have prepared him for the words that followed.
“We’re not entirely sure how it happened,” EJ began carefully, “but somehow, you shifted into your wolf form.” Taki’s brow furrowed. “We don’t know how long you were like that,” EJ continued. “But when we found you… you were completely feral.” The room felt heavier with every sentence. “You attacked Fuma and Tara,” EJ said. “And it took Fuma, Nicholas, and Kei to subdue you.” Taki stared at him. His brain trying, and failing, to process it. Before he could even respond, EJ added the next part. “And while that was happening… we discovered something else.” A brief pause.
“We believe you and (Y/n) are mates.” Taki blinked. “…What?” But EJ wasn’t finished. “Not just mates,” he said. “Twin flames.” That was the moment Taki’s brain completely short-circuited. He stared at EJ like the alpha had just grown a second head. “What?” he said again, this time louder. His gaze darted around the room, from EJ, to Nicholas, to the others, finally landing on (Y/n). Still sitting beside him. Still holding his hand. His mind reeled. “…Did all of this,” he said slowly, disbelief flooding his voice, “happen a few hours ago?”
A few of them let out small, almost disbelieving chuckles. “Yeah,” someone confirmed. Taki dragged a hand down his face, staring at nothing for a second before muttering under his breath, “…what the fuck?” EJ chose to ignore that. Instead, he stayed focused. “Do you know when you shifted?” he asked. “Or how it happened?” Taki exhaled slowly, trying to piece it together. “It’s… blurry,” he admitted. “I didn’t sleep well. I kept waking up, tossing around… then I finally fell asleep, but,”He paused, frowning. “I had a nightmare.” “What about?” Kei asked quietly. Taki shook his head. “I don’t remember,” he said. “I just know it felt… wrong. Like something bad was going to happen.” His fingers tightened slightly in the blanket. “I woke up after that. Went outside for some air and then…” He went quiet. “…nothing.” The room stilled. “I don’t remember anything after that.”
Fuma, who had been standing a bit behind the others, finally spoke. “I do.” Taki’s head snapped up. And just like that, the memory hit, not clearly, not fully, but enough. The attack. Tara. Fuma. Taki’s expression shifted immediately, guilt washing over him as he dropped his hand from his face. His eyes landed on Fuma, and then flicked to Tara, noticing how Fuma stood just slightly in front of her. Protective. Instinctive. It made sense. “I…” Taki swallowed. “I’m sorry.” The words came out quieter than expected. “I didn’t… I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t even know it was me.” Tara shook her head gently. “It’s okay,” she said. “You didn’t mean to.” Fuma didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened slightly, his instinct still lingering, still protective, still wary. But then Tara nudged him. Not gently. And when he glanced at her, she gave him a look. Firm. Unyielding. Fuma exhaled. “…It’s okay,” he said finally. It wasn’t as easy for him to say it as it had been for Tara. But he meant it. Or at least, he was trying to.
EJ crossed his arms slightly, his expression thoughtful but firm. “Right now,” he said, “we need to figure out what’s going on with your wolf… and how it connects to (Y/n).” Taki nodded faintly, though his mind was still racing. His gaze drifted back to her. (Y/n) hadn’t said much during all of this. She was quiet, her eyes fixed on their intertwined hands, her fingers lightly curled around his like she was afraid to let go, but also unsure if she should be holding on at all. She looked… overwhelmed. Sad, maybe. Shy. And he got it. Because he felt it too. This was a lot. Too much, too fast. But as he looked at her, really looked, something felt… off. Not wrong. Just… not what he expected.
His brothers had always described it so clearly. A pull. A certainty. A voice in their head, their wolf practically screaming mate the second they saw her. But Taki, felt none of that. No voice. No overwhelming instinct. No sudden sense of “this is the missing piece.” Just… quiet. Confusion. And something softer. Something he couldn’t quite name. His brows furrowed slightly. “…Why do you think that?” he asked, looking back at EJ. “That we’re mates?” EJ didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he glanced at Rocky. The witch stepped forward slightly, arms loosely crossed as she spoke.
“Even yesterday,” she began, “I had a feeling.” Taki looked at her, listening. “From what you and Niki described, what happened after the earthquake, it already sounded like the beginning of a mate bond. The calling, the pull, the instinct to find someone.” She tilted her head slightly. “And then this morning… (Y/n) woke up early too. She went outside because she felt like she was supposed to meet someone.” Taki’s eyes flickered slightly. “Probably you,” Rocky added. She continued before he could respond. “When you howled,” she said, “everyone else heard a howl.” A small pause. “She didn’t.” That made Taki’s attention sharpen. “She heard her name.” Silence settled over the room again. “And when you were unconscious,” Rocky went on, softer now, “nothing worked… not until she got close to you.” Taki’s gaze slowly shifted back to (Y/n). “It was her presence,” Rocky finished, “that brought you back. That made you shift back into your human form.” Another pause. Then, “All of that,” she said, “points to a mate bond.” The weight of her words lingered in the air. Heavy. Unavoidable. And yet, Taki still wasn’t sure. Because even with all that… He still didn’t feel what he was supposed to feel.
Before anyone could continue pulling apart theories and connections, Miyu suddenly clapped her hands together lightly. “Okay, before we do anything else,” she said, cutting through the tension, “we all need to eat.” A few heads turned toward her. “It’s been a long day,” she continued. “Taki hasn’t eaten, and neither has (Y/n).” That seemed to ground the room a little. Yuma immediately pulled her into a quick hug, smiling. “You’re always thinking of us.” Miyu huffed slightly, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “Someone has to.” Aya nodded in agreement from nearby. “She’s right,” she added. “Without us, you’d all starve and walk around naked all the time.” A few quiet laughs followed, the tension easing just a little. But not completely.
(Y/n) slowly let go of Taki’s hand. The moment their fingers separated, something in her expression shifted, subtle, but there. Her eyes trembled slightly, like she hadn’t expected the loss of contact to feel that… strong. Like something had just been pulled away from her. Taki felt it too. A strange, uncomfortable wrongness settled in his chest as her hand slipped from his. It was quick. Easy to ignore. And as Nicholas stepped in to help him up, “Careful,” he said, steadying him. “Can you walk?” Taki’s focus shifted immediately. He nodded, testing his weight as he stood, only to wince slightly at the dull pain in his leg. “Yeah… I think so.” And just like that, the feeling was pushed aside. Forgotten for now. But not unnoticed.
Luna had seen it. Both of them. The way (Y/n) reacted. The way Taki paused, even if just for a second. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t interrupt. This wasn’t the moment. But she made a quiet mental note. She’d talk to (Y/n) later. When things were calmer. Because whatever this was, it wasn’t simple. And (Y/n) was clearly feeling it more than she was letting on.
As they made their way back toward the main house, the atmosphere had shifted. Not lighter, exactly, but steadier. Niki and Jungwon had somehow managed to fall into step with Harua and Yuma, the four of them joking about something completely unrelated, their laughter breaking through the lingering tension. It was easy, natural. Jay watched them from a short distance, a small smile on his face. Seeing them get along like that, it mattered to him. These boys, his brothers in everything but blood… and this pack, this place, it had become something just as important. Because Miyu was here. And wherever she was, that was where he’d stay.
At the back of the group, Luna gently reached for Maki’s wrist, slowing him down just enough so they fell behind the others. He glanced at her, a little curious. “What?” Luna hesitated for a second, then asked quietly, “What do you think about Taki and (Y/n)?” Maki frowned slightly. “What do you mean?” Luna glanced ahead, making sure no one was close enough to overhear. “I mean… all of this,” she said. “I saw her back there. How much it’s affecting her.” Her voice softened. “I just… wanted your input. As a wolf. Are you feeling anything? Noticing anything?” Maki went quiet, actually thinking about it. After a moment, he spoke. “Well… since earlier,” he said slowly, “I can feel more of a presence from her.” Luna looked at him. “Like her wolf?” she asked. He nodded. “Yeah. It’s faint, but it’s there. Like it’s starting to wake up.”
Luna hummed softly, processing that. “But other than that…” Maki added, shaking his head a little, “I don’t know. Nothing clear.” They walked in silence for a few steps after that. Then Luna gave a small nod. “Mm.” Maki glanced at her again before speaking, a bit more certain this time. “Hey,” he said, nudging her shoulder lightly, “it’ll work out.” She looked at him. “If they’re mates,” he continued, “then fate already decided that.” A small pause. “There’s a path for them. They’ll find it.” Luna didn’t respond right away. But she laced her fingers with his, squeezing his hand gently. And together, they followed the others back home.
In the kitchen, Miyu moved like she always did, quick, efficient, completely in her element. She reached for a few things before pausing, glancing over her shoulder. “Maki?” she called. “Where’s my co-chef?” A second later, he appeared in the doorway, a grin already on his face. “Here, ma’am,” he said, giving her a dramatic mock salute. “Ready for duty.” Miyu laughed, shaking her head. “Good. Go grab some meat and vegetables from the pantry fridge.” “Yes, chef,” he replied, turning on his heel and heading out again. Once he was gone, Miyu leaned slightly out of the kitchen. “(Y/n)?” (Y/n) stepped in, hovering a little by the doorway. “Yeah?” Miyu gave her a soft smile. “Is there anything you don’t like? Or anything you’re craving?” (Y/n) hesitated, then shrugged lightly. “I’m… not really hungry right now. But I’m fine with whatever.” Miyu studied her for a second, then nodded. “Okay. That’s all I needed.” (Y/n) gave a small nod in return before stepping back out.
The moment she left the kitchen, the noise of the house settled around her. Voices. Laughter. Quiet conversations. Everyone was… with someone. Niki and Jungwon still joking with the others. Jay was talking with Luna. Sana and Jo talking softly. Nicholas and Rocky close together. Aya not far from Kei. Fuma with Tara. Willow and Harua. Taki was sitting, listening to Niki and Jungwon joking around. Ej and Sora looking at the wall where the bookshelf had fallen, discussing the need to buy a new one, and a new tv.
Her gaze drifted slightly. Everyone had their person. And she, didn’t. The realization hit harder than she expected. For the first time in years, being alone didn’t feel peaceful. It felt… Terrifying. Her arms wrapped around herself instinctively, like she could hold herself together, like she could replace the warmth she suddenly missed. The absence felt loud. Too loud. “…Hey.” (Y/n) looked up. Luna stood a few steps away, her expression gentle. “Can we talk?” (Y/n) hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Yeah… okay.” Luna gave a small smile, then gestured for her to follow. They stepped out onto the terrace, the cool air brushing against their skin. Rain poured steadily from the sky, the sound of droplets tapping against the roof above them filling the silence. They sat down on a pair of chairs, side by side. For a moment, neither of them spoke. They just listened to the rain.
Luna kept her eyes on the rain as she spoke, her voice soft, almost blending with the steady sound of droplets against the roof. “I’ve had a hard time making friends… all my life,” she began. (Y/n) didn’t interrupt. She just listened. “I was mostly on my own,” Luna continued. “For a long time, my grandma was my best friend.” A small, almost bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. “No one really wanted to be friends with the girl who only baked cookies and cakes. I was the ‘loser’… the one people didn’t want to be seen with.” Her fingers traced lightly along the armrest of her chair. “And after a while… I got good at being alone.” A pause. “Really good.”
The rain grew a little heavier. “I told myself I didn’t need anyone,” she said. “Because if you don’t let people in… they can’t walk out.” Her voice dipped slightly. “If I ran first, no one could hurt me.” (Y/n)’s arms tightened slightly around herself. Luna glanced at her for just a second, then looked back at the rain. “That’s why I was terrified when I found out I was Maki’s mate,” she admitted. “Because suddenly… I had something to lose.” Another pause. “Someone to lose.” Her voice softened even more. “And that meant I could get hurt. Really hurt.”
Silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t empty. It was full. Honest. “I’m saying all of this,” Luna went on, turning slightly toward (Y/n) now, “because I see you.” (Y/n)’s gaze flickered. “I see how much you’re hurting,” Luna said gently. “I see how you’re trying to hide it.” A small, understanding smile. “The smile… the ‘I’m fine’… pretending like everything’s okay, because it’s easier than letting people see the truth.” (Y/n)’s eyes stung slightly. “I did the exact same thing,” Luna added quietly. She shifted a little closer, not too much, just enough. “But you don’t have to do that here,” she said. Her voice was steady. Soft, but certain. “You don’t have to pretend.” Another pause. “With us… with me…” Luna’s expression softened even more. “You’re allowed to not be okay.”
Luna let her words settle before speaking again, her voice quiet but certain. “Your wolf is speaking to you… isn’t it?” (Y/n) turned to her immediately, eyes wide with shock. “How did you know?” she asked. Luna gave a small, knowing smile, her gaze drifting back to the rain. “I wasn’t completely sure,” she admitted. “But Maki said he could feel a presence around you… your wolf.” She paused for a moment. “And… I saw your face earlier. When Taki asked why everyone thought you were mates.” Her voice softened. “There was pain there. The kind you don’t fake.” (Y/n)’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. “So I figured,” Luna continued gently, “either you felt the bond… or you feel something for him.”
Silence stretched between them. Then (Y/n) bit her lip. Her hands trembled slightly in her lap, fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeves as if grounding herself. “…Earlier,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “when EJ told me to touch Taki… when he was in his wolf form…” She swallowed. “I felt something.” Luna didn’t interrupt. “I felt a spark,” (Y/n) said. “And then… warmth. It spread through my entire body.” Her brows furrowed slightly, trying to put it into words. “It wasn’t like a fever. It was… comforting. Like something was waking up inside me.” Her breathing grew a little uneven. “And then everything changed.” She looked down at her hands.
“My eyesight got sharper. My hearing too… everything felt stronger. Clearer.” A small pause. “I could see it,” she said quietly. “What Maki mentioned.” Luna tilted her head slightly. “The wolves,” (Y/n) explained. “The presence. It’s like… there’s something behind all of you.” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “Like a shadow. But not in a bad way. Just… there. Your wolves. Standing behind you.” Luna’s expression softened, listening carefully. “And then…” (Y/n)’s voice dropped even more, “I heard it.” A beat. “A voice.” She pressed her lips together. “It was low. Quiet. But clear.” Her fingers tightened. “It said… mate.”
The word hung in the air between them. Luna didn’t move. Didn’t speak. But her eyes softened even more. (Y/n)’s breath hitched slightly. “But when Taki didn’t feel it…” she continued, her voice cracking just a little, “when he didn’t react at all,” Her hand moved to her chest unconsciously. “Everything just… hurt.” Her fingers pressed lightly against her shirt. “My heart felt like it stopped,” she whispered. “Like something just… snapped or disappeared.” Her shoulders tensed. “My chest got tight, and I couldn’t breathe properly and I didn’t even understand why.” Tears gathered in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “I still don’t understand any of this,” she admitted, her voice small now. “This world… what I am…” A shaky breath left her. “But at the same time…” Her gaze dropped again. “I don’t feel like I belong in my old world anymore either.” Another pause. Quieter this time. “…But I don’t feel like I belong here either.” The rain filled the silence that followed. Soft. Endless. And for the first time since she started speaking, (Y/n) didn’t try to hide how lost she truly felt.
Luna didn’t hesitate. “You do belong,” she said softly, but with certainty. (Y/n)’s gaze flickered slightly. “Trust me,” Luna continued, “every single person in this pack has felt like they didn’t belong here at some point.” She gave a small, almost nostalgic smile. “I did. Rocky did. Miyu, Sora, Tara… all of the boys. Jay, Jungwon…” A small pause. “…Taki most of all.” That made (Y/n)’s chest tighten slightly. “We’ve all struggled,” Luna said. “We’ve all been lost in our own ways. But then… we found each other.” Her voice softened. “In the pain. In the confusion. In the mist.” She glanced at (Y/n). “And somehow… we became stronger. Happier.”
The rain continued to fall steadily around them. “I know it’s not something you can feel in a second,” Luna added gently. “I’m not expecting you to suddenly believe me and feel at home.” A small shake of her head. “I just… don’t want you to end up hurting even more.” (Y/n)’s brows furrowed slightly. Luna hesitated. Then she continued. “When I first… kind of rejected Maki,” she admitted, “he got really sick.” (Y/n)’s eyes widened slightly. “Sick?” she asked quietly. Luna nodded. “For wolves… rejection isn’t just emotional,” she said. “It’s physical. It’s deadly.” The word lingered. “Rejection means death.”
(Y/n)’s breath caught. “EJ went through it too,” Luna added. That made (Y/n) look up. “…Sora rejected him?” she asked, disbelief clear in her voice. She couldn’t imagine it. Not with how they looked at each other. Luna shook her head. “No,” she said. “It was the other way around.” (Y/n) blinked. “EJ didn’t accept Sora at first,” Luna explained. “Because she’s a vampire.” A small pause. “And it went really far.” Her voice lowered slightly. “Maki told me… EJ almost died because of it.” Silence. Heavy. “I don’t want that for you,” Luna said gently, turning fully toward (Y/n) now. “If your wolf said Taki is your mate…” She reached out, placing her hand over (Y/n)’s. “Then it’s true.” A beat. “Wolves don’t get that wrong.” (Y/n)’s lip trembled. “So now…” Luna continued softly, “it’s not about if it’s real.” “It’s about helping Taki’s wolf see it too.”
That was it. That was the final push. The tears (Y/n) had been holding back finally spilled over, slipping down her cheeks as her shoulders began to shake. Everything, the fear. The confusion. The pain. The loneliness. It all came crashing down at once. She turned toward Luna without thinking, like her body just knew where to go. And Luna was already there. She pulled her into a gentle embrace, one arm wrapping securely around her shoulders, the other resting soothingly against her back. “It’s okay,” Luna whispered softly. “You’re okay.” (Y/n) held onto her, finally letting herself cry fully, not holding anything back this time. And Luna stayed. Holding her. Grounding her. Doing everything she could to make sure (Y/n) felt it, that she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
~~~
About thirty minutes later, the quiet of the rain was suddenly broken. “FOOD IS DONE!” Maki’s voice echoed loudly from inside the house. Almost instantly, chaos followed, voices, footsteps, laughter, everyone rushing to the kitchen like it was the most important event of the day. (Y/n) had stopped crying a few minutes earlier. Now, she and Luna just sat there, side by side, listening to the rain and the distant noise from inside. “…Feel like going in?” Luna asked gently. (Y/n) hesitated, then gave a small shrug. “I’m… starting to feel hungry,” she admitted. “It smells really good.” A small pause. “But I don’t think I’m ready to face Taki yet.” Luna nodded in understanding and stood up. “That’s okay,” she said. “Wait here, I’ll get us plates and come back.”
She turned toward the door, but before she could even take a step, it opened. Maki stepped out, already holding two plates filled with food, a grin on his face. “Way ahead of you.” Luna couldn’t help but smile. Of course he had noticed. She took the plates from him. “Thanks,” (Y/n) said softly, looking up at him. “For thinking of me.” Maki shrugged lightly, like it was nothing. “Always,” he said. Then he glanced between them. “Mind if I join you? After I grab my own?” (Y/n) gave a small nod. “That’s fine.” “Cool,” he said, already turning back inside. Luna sat back down beside (Y/n), handing her the plate. “Go on,” she said softly. “Eat.” (Y/n) picked up the chopsticks, hesitating for just a second before grabbing a piece of meat. She took a careful bite. And paused. The flavor spread instantly, rich, warm, perfectly cooked. Tender in a way that made it almost melt.
Something in her chest shifted. It was comforting. Familiar. Her eyes softened slightly. It reminded her of something, a memory. A younger version of herself, sitting at a table after a long, difficult first day at a new school. Feeling out of place, alone, unsure of everything. And then going home, to find her adoptive mother in the kitchen. Cooking. Waiting. A plate of steak set in front of her, warm and comforting. Safe. Loved. (Y/n)’s grip on the chopsticks tightened just slightly. The taste, it felt like that. Like home. Like love. And for the first time since everything happened, she felt a small piece of that warmth again.
A couple of minutes later, the door opened again. Maki stepped back out, this time with his own plate in hand. He grabbed a chair and sat down across from them, smiling as he started eating. His eyes flickered toward (Y/n). He noticed it immediately, the way her expression had softened, the quiet focus as she ate, the small comfort settling into her features. It made him smile a little more. That’s it, he thought. That’s what he and Miyu always aimed for. Not just food, but comfort. Something that made people feel safe, even just for a moment.
He scratched the back of his neck slightly. “Sorry if I ruined your moment or something,” “You didn’t.” (Y/n) cut him off gently. Maki blinked. She looked at him, a little more steady now. “We had our moment,” she said. “This is just… a new one.” A small pause. “And maybe it’s a good thing you’re here.” Maki tilted his head slightly. “Oh yeah?” he said, taking another bite. “How can I help?” (Y/n) hesitated. Her fingers tightened slightly around her chopsticks as she glanced at Luna, silently asking for help.
Luna understood immediately. “She told me something,” Luna said, looking at Maki. “Her wolf is more awake than we thought.” That got his attention. “It… spoke to her,” Luna continued. “It said mate, about Taki.” Maki’s chewing slowed slightly. “But Taki doesn’t seem to feel it,” Luna added. “At all.” A small pause. “So now we need to figure out how to help him realize it.” Maki leaned back slightly in his chair, thinking. “…Huh.” He took another bite, quieter this time, more focused.
Then he nodded slowly. “Okay… I can think of two possibilities.” Both girls looked at him. “First,” he said, pointing slightly with his chopsticks, “it could be a disconnect between (Y/n) and her wolf.” (Y/n)’s attention sharpened. “It’s been dormant for, what, over twenty years?” he continued. “That’s a long time. So even if it’s waking up now, it might still be… hidden, in a way.” He shrugged lightly. “Hard for others to sense. Hard for bonds to fully form.” Luna nodded slightly, following his reasoning. “Second,” Maki went on, “the issue could be on Taki’s side.” That made (Y/n)’s chest tighten a little. “You all saw what happened earlier,” he said. “That wasn’t normal.” His expression grew a bit more serious. “It didn’t look like Taki shifting.” A small pause. “It looked like something taking over.”
Silence settled for a moment. “For me,” Maki added, tapping his chest lightly, “my wolf and I… we’re the same.” He smiled faintly. “Just two bodies, same mind.” Then his expression shifted slightly. “But Taki…” he exhaled, shaking his head a little, “it’s different.” He looked between them. “It almost feels like he’s one person… and his wolf is another.” (Y/n)’s grip tightened slightly. “Like they’re not connected,” Maki finished. “Not really.” The rain continued to fall around them, steady and soft. “And if that’s the case…” Luna murmured. Maki nodded. “Then his wolf might know she’s his mate.” A small pause. “But he doesn’t.” (Y/n)’s heart skipped. Because that, somehow, hurt even more.
Maki shifted slightly in his seat, tapping his fingers lightly against the table as he thought. “I’m… not really sure how to fix that,” he admitted after a moment, glancing between Luna and (Y/n). “The connection between a wolf and their human side, it’s instinctual. It’s supposed to just… be there.”
Luna hummed quietly, resting her chin against her hand. “But if it’s not,” she added, eyes thoughtful, “then there has to be a reason. Something blocking it.” Maki’s expression brightened just a little. “Rocky,” he said. “If anyone knows something about this, it’s her. She’s always buried in those old magic books. There’s probably something in there about wolf bonds, or… disconnections.” (Y/n) nodded slowly, though uncertainty still lingered in her chest. The idea of digging into something that deep, something that personal to Taki… it felt heavy. “We can ask her tomorrow,” Luna said gently, offering her a small reassuring smile. “No need to involve everyone tonight. Let’s take this one step at a time.” (Y/n) let out a quiet breath, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. “Yeah… okay. Tomorrow sounds good.”
Silence settled over the table for a few moments after that, softer this time. The kind that wasn’t uncomfortable, just… full. The three of them finished the last of their food, the faint clink of cutlery the only sound between them. Then (Y/n) shifted slightly in her seat, fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeve. “There’s… something else,” she said hesitantly. “I wanted to ask for help with. But I don’t really know how to…” Maki and Luna both looked up at her immediately. “What is it?” Luna asked gently. (Y/n) exhaled slowly, her gaze dropping to the table. “I need to go back to my apartment,” she said. “To my roommates.” She paused, swallowing before continuing. “I need to get my things.”
A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. “Because I’m… pretty sure they’re not going to let me stay there anymore. Not after what they saw.” Her fingers tightened slightly. “And I know wolves aren’t monsters,” she added quickly, almost defensively. “But to them… I’m sure there’s no difference.” Maki’s expression softened instantly, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes. He leaned forward slightly. “Hey… you don’t have to go back there alone,” he said. Then, after a brief pause, “Actually… you don’t have to go back there at all.”
(Y/n) blinked, looking up at him. “If you’re okay with it,” Maki continued, glancing briefly at Luna before looking back at her, “we could ask Jungwon for help.” “Jungwon?” she echoed, confused. Maki nodded. “Yeah. He can shapeshift. Not perfectly, but… enough. He could probably turn into you, go to your apartment, and grab your things with someone else there to help.” Luna’s brows lifted slightly in realization. “That way,” she added, “you wouldn’t have to face them. Not while you’re still… dealing with all of this.” Maki gave a small nod. “You’re vulnerable right now. The last thing you need is more stress.” He offered her a small, encouraging smile. “We can handle it for you. If you want us to.”
(Y/n) nodded, a quiet wave of relief washing over her. Just the thought of going back there, facing those looks again, the fear, the confusion… it made her chest tighten. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Maki tilted his head slightly. “Want me to get him right now?” he asked. (Y/n) shook her head almost immediately. “No… we can do it tomorrow.” Her voice softened a little as she glanced between them. “For now, can we just… stay here? Please.” Maki nodded without hesitation. “Yeah. Of course.”
He reached over, his fingers finding Luna’s hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. He glanced at her with a small smile, pride clear in his eyes. She had handled everything so calmly, so gently. Exactly what (Y/n) needed right now. Luna squeezed his hand back before letting go, then leaned back slightly, a playful glint appearing in her eyes as she looked at (Y/n). “Oh, fair warning,” she said, her tone lightening. “If you stay here, Rocky is absolutely going to use you as a mannequin.” (Y/n) blinked, then let out a small laugh. “Yeah… I kind of figured,” she admitted. “After the whole jewelry situation.” Luna chuckled. “That was just the beginning.” (Y/n) tilted her head curiously. “Is Yuma the same?” Maki snorted softly, leaning back in his chair. “Both yes and no,” he said. “He’s not as… persistent as Rocky. And most of the time, he only bothers Kei and Nico about it.”
“Because they’re the models,” Luna added with a small grin. “Exactly,” Maki nodded. “Yuma only turns to the rest of us if those two reject him. Which,” he added, “happens more often than you’d think.” Luna laughed quietly. “Kei runs the moment Yuma starts talking about outfits.” “And Nico just pretends he didn’t hear him,” Maki said, shaking his head. (Y/n) smiled a little more at that, the tightness in her chest easing just enough for her to breathe a bit easier.
They ended up sitting there for nearly an hour, the rain continuing to fall in a steady rhythm against the roof and windows. It filled the quiet spaces between their words, soft and constant, almost comforting. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they didn’t, letting the silence settle naturally between them. At some point, (Y/n) shifted slightly, pulling her knees closer to her chest. “How did the pack even form?” she asked quietly. “You’re all so young… but it feels like you’ve been together forever.” Maki glanced at Luna for a second before answering, his expression softening. “We didn’t all start together,” he said. “Most of us… lost our original packs. Our families.” He told her of the vampire attacks. Maki nodded. “Yeah. After that, everyone kind of… found each other over time. Piece by piece. No one planned it, it just… happened.”
(Y/n) was quiet for a moment, letting that sink in. Then her gaze returned to him. “Who found you?” Maki smiled faintly, something warm and fond flickering in his eyes. “Fuma,” he said without hesitation. “I was five. Just… wandering around in the forest.” He let out a small breath, like he could still picture it clearly. “And then this thirteen-year-old shows up and just… decides I’m his responsibility now.” Luna smiled softly beside him. “Since then,” Maki continued, his voice quieter now, “he’s basically been my dad. He protected me, kept me alive… even when it was just the two of us.” He glanced down at his hands. “It took a while before we found the others. Before he had help.”
(Y/n)’s expression softened. “That must’ve been really hard.” Maki shrugged lightly. “I mean… I know that now.” He gave a small, almost sheepish smile. “But back then, I didn’t. I was too young.” His gaze drifted slightly, thoughtful. “Fuma made sure of that. He… never let me see how bad it really was. He always smiled, acted like everything was fine.” Luna’s hand found his again, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Even though he was tired,” Maki added quietly. “And hurting. And probably scared out of his mind.” A small silence followed that, heavier than the ones before.
Then (Y/n) spoke again, her voice softer this time. “Do you think that’s why I was adopted?” Maki looked up at her. “Because vampires attacked my biological parents too?” she continued. “Do you think… they hid me away?” Maki hesitated for a brief moment, choosing his words carefully. “It’s… likely,” he said gently. “If they knew you were in danger… they might’ve thought the safest thing was to send you somewhere the vampires wouldn’t look.” Luna nodded slightly. “Somewhere normal. Somewhere human.” Maki’s expression softened. “They probably wanted to protect you. Even if it meant… not being with you.” (Y/n) looked down at her hands, her fingers loosely intertwined, as the sound of rain filled the quiet again.
Luna shivered slightly as a stronger gust of wind swept through the porch, making the rain tap a little louder against the wood. Maki noticed immediately. “Okay, yeah, that’s our cue,” he said, already pushing his chair back as he stood. “We should head inside before someone catches a cold.” He reached down, offering his hand to Luna first, helping her up with an easy familiarity. Then, to (Y/n)’s surprise, he turned to her and held out his hand as well. “Come on.” She hesitated for just a second before placing her hand in his. The moment their skin touched, something warm flickered inside her chest. Her wolf stirred. Not in fear. Not in confusion. But… excitement. It was subtle, but she could feel it clearly this time, a soft, eager presence, like a tail wagging somewhere deep inside her. And when she glanced up at Maki, she felt it again, his wolf. It wasn’t overwhelming, not like before. Just… there. Warm. Open. Welcoming. Just like EJ’s had been earlier. A small smile found its way onto her lips as she let Maki pull her up gently.
The three of them stepped back inside, the warmth of the house wrapping around them almost instantly. The contrast to the cool rain outside made (Y/n) exhale softly, her shoulders relaxing. The pack was scattered around the house, each group wrapped up in their own little world. In the living room, Jungwon, Niki, Sunoo, Jay, Taki, Harua, Willow, and Sana were all sitting on the floor in a loose circle, a board game spread out between them. Voices overlapped in playful arguments, Jungwon dramatically accusing someone of cheating while Sunoo insisted he was just “strategically misunderstood.” Taki sat among them, quieter than the others, but still engaged, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched the chaos unfold.
Behind them, Jo was stretched out on the couch, sketchbook resting on his knee, pencil moving steadily across the page. He barely looked up, completely absorbed, though his ear seemed tuned to every word being said in the room. Off to the side, EJ and Sora were standing near the wall where the bookshelf used to be, a measuring tape stretched between them. Sora pointed at something while talking, her brows slightly furrowed, while EJ shook his head, clearly disagreeing. “That won’t fit,” he said. “It will if we move the table,” Sora argued. “We’re not moving the table.” “You’re no fun.”
At the dining table, Fuma, Tara, Miyu, and Yuma sat close together, voices low. Papers were spread out in front of them, but the moment Maki, Luna, and (Y/n) stepped in, the group reacted almost instantly. Yuma slid one of the papers over another. Miyu gathered a small stack. Tara shifted slightly closer to Fuma, and Fuma calmly placed his hand over the remaining page, covering it. Like nothing had been there at all. (Y/n) blinked, catching the movement, but no one said anything. And then she noticed, Kei, Aya, Nicholas, and Rocky were missing. Though, judging by the faint creak of floorboards from above, they were probably just upstairs. The house felt… full. Loud. Warm. Alive. And for the first time since everything had happened, (Y/n) didn’t feel like she was standing on the outside of it.
As soon as the group in the living room noticed them, Niki’s head snapped up. “Oh! Finally,” he called out loudly, grinning. “Do you guys want to join?” Luna and Maki both instinctively glanced at (Y/n), giving her the choice. She hesitated for just a second, her fingers curling slightly at her sides. Then she took a small breath, steadying herself. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Let’s do it.” Luna tilted her head, studying her. “You sure?” (Y/n) met her gaze and nodded again, a little more firmly this time. “Yeah. I am.” Maki smiled softly at that, and without another word, the three of them moved over to join the others.
“Finally!” Sana beamed, immediately patting the space beside her. “Come on, join my team!” (Y/n) let out a small laugh, the tension easing just a bit as she sat down next to her. Sana didn’t hesitate, pulling her into a quick, warm hug before letting go again. “I’ll explain everything,” Sana said excitedly, already gesturing toward the board. “It’s super easy, I promise. Okay, so basically,” She launched straight into the rules, her words quick but clear, pointing at different pieces as she talked. (Y/n) leaned in slightly, listening, a small smile lingering on her lips as she tried to follow along.
Across from them, Taki watched quietly. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than it probably should have. He remembered what the others had said earlier. The looks. The way they’d glanced between him and her, like they had already decided something he hadn’t even considered. Mates. The word echoed faintly in his mind. He studied her a little more carefully now. She looked… relaxed. Not completely, but more than before. There was something soft about her expression as she listened to Sana, nodding along, letting herself be pulled into the moment. Taki swallowed slightly. He’d be lying if he said she wasn’t pretty. She was.
And more than that… he respected her. He remembered seeing her in class, the way she acted, how easily she slipped into emotions, how real it all felt. She was talented. Someone he admired, even if he’d never really said it out loud. But… His brows knit together slightly. He didn’t feel it. Not the way the others had described. No pull. No instinct screaming at him. No overwhelming certainty. Just… normal. He looked away, his fingers absently fidgeting with one of the game pieces. Is she really my mate? He didn’t think so.
~~~
Night passed quietly, the house eventually settling into sleep, and before long, morning came again. This time, most of the pack had gathered in the main house, voices low but filled with energy, like something important was about to happen. The only one missing, Maki. Luna had been tasked with keeping him busy… or, if possible, asleep. Kei stood near the center of the room, glancing around at everyone before clapping his hands together once. “Okay,” he said, a small smile already forming. “Maki’s graduating soon.” A few quiet cheers and excited murmurs spread through the room. “And,” Kei continued, “we’re throwing him a party. But,” he raised a finger slightly, “he cannot find out about it.”
“Obviously,” Yuma said, already stepping forward and holding up a stack of papers. “Which is why we started planning yesterday.” He waved them slightly. “These are just rough ideas, nothing set in stone yet.” Miyu leaned forward a bit, nodding. “Luna already agreed to bake the cake,” she added, “but she can’t be here to help decide flavors or design right now, since she’s busy keeping Maki distracted.” “Or unconscious,” Jungwon muttered under his breath. “Preferably distracted,” Fuma said dryly.
A few chuckles passed through the group. From there, the room filled with overlapping ideas. “We could decorate outside,” “No, inside, it’s safer,” “What about lights?” “Music, definitely music,” “Food, lots of food.” In the middle of it all, (Y/n) sat quietly on one of the chairs, her hands resting in her lap as she watched. Listened. Observed. It was… easy to see. The way they talked over each other without getting annoyed. The way they built on each other’s ideas instead of shutting them down. The small smiles, the teasing, the quiet understanding between them. They were excited. Not just about the party, but about celebrating him. All of them, in their own way, trying to make it perfect. Because they loved him. Because they loved each other. (Y/n)’s chest tightened slightly as she watched, something warm and aching settling deep inside her. And once again, she found herself wishing… that she belonged to it too.
About an hour into the planning, just as the energy in the room was starting to settle into something more concrete, a quiet ping echoed from several phones at once. Yuma checked his screen first, eyes widening slightly. “He’s awake,” he muttered. Kei glanced over. “Already?” Yuma nodded, holding up his phone. “Luna says they’re on their way. Like… right now.” The room shifted instantly. Papers disappeared. Chairs scraped softly against the floor. Conversations cut off mid-sentence as everyone scrambled to make the space look normal again. “Hide that, no, not there,” “Why would you put it there?!” “Act natural!” “You act natural,”
By the time footsteps approached the door, the room had settled into a suspicious version of calm. The door opened, and Maki stepped in, Luna right behind him. “Why is everyone so quiet?” Maki asked immediately, narrowing his eyes slightly. “No reason,” Fuma replied smoothly. “Just existing,” Yuma added, far too quickly. Maki looked unconvinced. Before he could question it further, (Y/n) stood up and walked over to them. “Hey,” she said, offering a small smile. “Can you help me with something?” Maki blinked, attention shifting to her. “Yeah, of course. What is it?” “Can you… help me talk to Jungwon?” That caught his interest immediately. “Oh, yeah, sure,” he said, straightening slightly, his focus now completely on her. “Let’s go.” Luna watched the interaction, then glanced briefly toward (Y/n), understanding flashing in her eyes. As (Y/n) turned away, Luna mouthed a quiet thank you. (Y/n) just gave a small, subtle nod.
Maki was already walking ahead, more awake now, curiosity pulling him forward. He made his way over to where Jungwon was standing. “Hey,” Maki said. “Can I borrow you for a minute?” Jungwon looked up, glancing between him and (Y/n) before shrugging lightly. “Sure.” He stood and followed them out onto the porch, the door closing softly behind them. The cooler air greeted them instantly, a contrast to the warmth inside. Luna joined them a second later. Maki leaned against the railing slightly. “Okay, so,” he started, glancing at (Y/n) to let her explain. (Y/n) took a small breath before summarizing the situation, explaining about her apartment, her roommates, and why she didn’t feel safe going back herself.
Jungwon listened, arms loosely crossed, his expression thoughtful. When she finished, he hummed quietly. “Okay… yeah, I get it,” he said. “That makes sense.” He paused for a moment, then added, “I’m not sure if I can shapeshift into you though.” (Y/n) blinked slightly. “Why not?” Jungwon scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve never tried shifting into a girl before,” he admitted. “I mean, I can shapeshift, but it’s usually people I’m familiar with. And… well…” He gestured vaguely at her. “You’re new.” There was a brief pause. Then he grinned. “But,” he added, a bit more confidently, “I’ll absolutely try.”
Jungwon rubbed the back of his neck, thinking for a moment before looking at (Y/n) again. “Okay, but I need to… take some measurements first.” Maki blinked. “Measurements?” “Not like that,” Jungwon said quickly. “It’s more like… I need to get a feel for certain things. My ability copies details, but I kind of need a reference. Like, feeling someone’s hair.” (Y/n) narrowed her eyes slightly. “Why do you need to feel my hair?” Jungwon immediately raised both hands in defense. “Hey, no weird stuff, I promise,” he said quickly. “It’s just… the texture, the color, it helps me replicate it properly. It’s weird, I know, but that’s just how it works.”
There was a brief pause. Then (Y/n) nodded slowly. “Oh… okay.” She stepped a little closer, still a bit unsure, but willing. Jungwon moved carefully, surprisingly focused now. He gently took a strand of her hair between his fingers, running it lightly between them, like he was memorizing the texture. His expression shifted, eyes narrowing slightly in concentration. Then he stepped back, crouching just a little to compare their heights, before lightly placing his hands near her shoulders, not grabbing, just gauging the width. “Okay…” he muttered. “A bit narrower…” He then reached for her hand, turning it slightly in his as he compared sizes, adjusting his own fingers against hers. Maki watched, arms crossed, trying not to laugh. “You look like you’re building a character in a game.” “Shut up,” Jungwon muttered. After a moment, he stepped back fully, rolling his shoulders once. “Alright,” he said. “I think I’ve got it.”
The others grew quiet. Jungwon took a slow, steady breath, then closed his eyes. For a second, nothing happened. Then, his body shifted. It started subtly. His frame shrank slightly, his posture adjusting as his height decreased. His shoulders narrowed, his build changing just enough to match hers. Then his hair, it began to grow, strands lengthening unevenly at first, like it couldn’t quite decide where to stop. The color shifted too, flickering between shades before settling closer to hers. But it wasn’t smooth. It glitched. For a moment, his features blurred, shifting in and out, like his face couldn’t quite hold one form. His jaw softened, then sharpened again, then softened once more. His eyes flickered, color adjusting, shape refining.
Luna instinctively reached for Maki’s arm, gripping it slightly as she watched. “Is that supposed to happen?” she whispered. “I… don’t know,” Maki muttered back. Jungwon’s expression tightened slightly, like he was concentrating harder, pushing through it. Then, finally, everything settled. He opened his eyes. And the three of them stared. Because Jungwon was gone. Standing in front of them now was (Y/n). Not perfect, there were small differences if you looked closely. Something slightly off in the eyes, the posture just a bit too confident to fully match her. But at a glance? It was her. Jungwon looked down at himself, turning his hands over, then glanced up at them. “Well?” he asked. Maki blinked slowly. “That’s… kind of creepy.” Luna let out a small breath. “But really impressive.” Jungwon grinned slightly. “Good enough to fool your roommates?” he asked. (Y/n) stared at him for a second longer, then nodded slowly. “…Yeah,” she said. “I think so.”
Jungwon let out a breath before his form shifted again, his features blurring slightly before snapping back into his usual self. He rolled his shoulders and shook out his arms, like he was trying to get rid of a lingering feeling. “…That feels weird,” he muttered. “Being a girl.” Luna snorted softly. “Just wait until you have to wear girl clothes.” Jungwon groaned immediately, dragging a hand down his face. “Don’t remind me,” he said. “But… I’ll deal with it.” He glanced at (Y/n), offering a small shrug. “If it helps, I’ll go through the pain.” Maki let out a quiet laugh before turning to (Y/n). “How much stuff do you actually need to get?” (Y/n) hesitated, her fingers lightly fidgeting with her sleeve. “Um… my clothes, mostly,” she said. “And like… my charger, some personal things.” She paused, her expression faltering slightly. “Technically, I should take my bed and furniture too, but… I don’t know if that’s realistic.” Her voice softened. “Maybe I’ll just leave it.”
Maki nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at Luna. “Do you still have the boxes from when you moved in?” Luna nodded right away. “Yeah, Fuma and EJ told me to keep them in the storage shed. Just in case we needed them again.” “Perfect,” Maki said, a small, determined smile forming. “Then we’ll grab those, get a few of the others to help, and just move everything.” He waved a hand slightly. “No stress. We’ve basically perfected the whole ‘moving someone in here’ thing by now.” Luna laughed softly. “Sadly true.” Maki looked back at (Y/n). “We’ll handle it. Don’t worry.” For a moment, (Y/n) just looked at him. Then her smile wavered slightly, her eyes growing a bit glossy. “…Thank you,” she whispered.
~~~
Soon enough, Jungwon had been dressed in a set of the girls’ clothes. He stood stiffly in the middle of the room, tugging awkwardly at the fabric like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. “Why are these so… fitted?” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable. Niki, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. “Oh my god, this is amazing,” he laughed, doubling over slightly as he snapped yet another picture on his phone. “Hold still, no, no, look more natural!” “This is me being natural,” Jungwon shot back, glaring at him. Sunoo snickered quietly nearby, while Luna tried, and failed, to hide her smile. “Okay, enough,” Fuma said, though there was a faint amusement in his tone. “Focus.” The room gradually settled as everyone gathered, attention shifting to him. He went over the plan one more time, making sure everyone knew their role.
“Alright,” he said, glancing around. “Tara, Nicholas, Rocky, Sana, Jo, you’re with us. Niki, Sunoo, Maki, Luna, same with you. We go to the apartment.” He looked at Jungwon. “You lead.” Jungwon nodded, adjusting his sleeves slightly. Fuma continued, “Aya, Sora, Willow, you stay here with (Y/n). Keep her safe.” Aya gave a small nod, her expression serious. “And the rest of you,” his gaze shifted, “Kei, Harua, EJ, Yuma, Jay, Taki, Miyu, you’re heading to Koyomi. See if the kitchen can still be saved after the earthquake.” A few exchanged glances, then nodded in agreement. With that, the groups split.
The drive to (Y/n)’s apartment was quiet, a subtle tension settling over the group the closer they got. When they finally stopped just outside the building, Jungwon took a slow breath. “Alright,” he murmured. Then, he shifted again. Once again, his form changed, features morphing until (Y/n) stood in his place. He rolled his shoulders slightly, like he was settling into the form. Rocky stepped forward next, raising her hand slightly as a faint shimmer of magic flickered at her fingertips. “Hold still,” she said. Jungwon did. The magic wrapped around him subtly, barely visible, before fading just as quickly. Rocky tilted her head, listening for a second. “Okay… talk.” “…Hello?” Jungwon said. It sounded like (Y/n). Not perfectly, there was a slight difference, something just a bit off, but it was close enough. Rocky nodded. “Good. If anyone notices, just cough a bit. Say you’re sick.” Jungwon gave a small nod. “Got it.”
There was a brief pause as everyone looked at each other. Then Fuma stepped forward, his expression calm but alert. “Stay close,” he said quietly. “We don’t know what we’re walking into.” With that, they headed inside. None of them knowing exactly what to expect. As Jungwon slid the key into the lock, his hand hesitated for just a second. He took a slow breath, steadying himself. You’ve got this. The door clicked open. Carefully, he stepped inside. The apartment looked… normal. Quiet. The faint sound of a TV filled the space. But the moment he stepped into the living room, all three girls sitting there turned to look at him. Or rather, at who they thought was (Y/n).
Jungwon forced a small, casual wave. “Hi…” They didn’t wave back. They just stared. Then one of them scoffed. “Why are you here?” The tone was cold. Sharp. Jungwon blinked once, quickly adjusting. “Uh… I’m here to get my things.” A brief pause. Then another one of them shrugged. “Good.” “Yeah,” the third muttered, already turning her attention back to the TV. “About time.” Just like that, they lost interest. Jungwon stood there for a second longer, processing, before glancing down slightly. …Good thing she’s not actually here. His grip on the door tightened briefly before he stepped aside, opening it wider. “I have some people helping me,” he said, trying to sound as natural as possible. “So, uh… sorry for the noise while I grab my stuff.” “Whatever,” one of them replied without even looking. That was all the permission they needed.
One by one, the others slipped inside, each carrying boxes, their movements quiet but efficient. Jungwon stepped further in, leading the way, mentally going over everything (Y/n) had told him. The layout. Her room. Where things were. “Down the hall,” he murmured softly. They followed. The moment they stepped into her room, there was a brief, unspoken pause. It felt… personal. Like stepping into something that wasn’t theirs. Photos. Clothes. Small details scattered around that painted pieces of her life. For a second, no one moved. Then Luna exhaled quietly. “Alright… let’s be careful.” (Y/n) had given permission. They reminded themselves of that as they got to work. Still, it felt like an invasion.
Tara, Rocky, Sana, and Luna focused on the more personal things, folding clothes neatly, gathering smaller items, carefully placing everything into boxes without disturbing more than necessary. Sana paused briefly at a small object on the desk, then gently placed it into a box with extra care. “Don’t forget this,” she murmured softly. Meanwhile, the boys handled the heavier tasks. Maki and Nicholas carefully lifted pieces of furniture, moving them with practiced coordination. Jo and Sunoo worked together to disassemble what they could, keeping things organized so it could all be put back together later. Niki, despite the situation, still found moments to whisper jokes under his breath, though quieter this time. Jungwon stayed near the doorway at first, keeping an ear on the living room, making sure nothing felt off. Every sound from outside made his shoulders tense slightly. But the girls out there stayed quiet, focused on their TV. So, slowly, steadily, they packed up (Y/n)’s life. Piece by piece.
Meanwhile, at Koyomi, the moment they stepped inside, the air felt… heavy. Miyu froze just a few steps in. Her eyes scanned the space, taking in the broken wood, the fallen shelves, the scattered pieces of what used to be carefully arranged. The kitchen, their kitchen, was barely recognizable. Her breath hitched. Yuma noticed immediately. Without saying anything, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her gently against him. “Hey… it’s okay,” he murmured softly. “We’ll fix this. We will.” Miyu nodded against his chest, her hands gripping his shirt slightly as she tried to keep herself together. “Yeah…” she whispered, though her voice trembled. “Yeah, we will…” But her eyes stayed on the wreckage.
Jay stood a bit further in, unmoving. His gaze was fixed on the kitchen. On what was left of it. They had worked so hard for this. Long nights, constant exhaustion, pushing through things most people would’ve given up on. Every detail had meant something. And now… It was gone. His jaw tightened slightly, his hands clenching at his sides before he forced himself to breathe. Kei and EJ moved carefully through the space, stepping over debris, crouching down to shift broken pieces aside. “Maybe this can be saved,” Kei started, lifting something, only to pause. EJ shook his head slightly. “It’s too damaged.” Kei sighed, setting it down again. They kept looking, though. Checking. Hoping. But with every piece they moved, it became more and more clear, there wasn’t much left to salvage.
In the background, Taki stood still, watching. His eyes moved between them. Miyu. Jay. The others. And something felt… off. Or maybe, too much. The sadness in the room wasn’t just something he saw. He felt it. Sharp. Heavy. Pressing against his chest in a way that made it harder to breathe. Miyu’s grief, raw and overwhelming. Jay’s quiet devastation, buried but just as deep. It was stronger than usual. Like something inside him was more open than before. More sensitive. He shifted slightly, his brows furrowing as he tried to understand it. Jay finally spoke, his voice low but steady, even if it took effort. “We’ll have to call the insurance company,” he said. “See what they can do.” He glanced around again, exhaling slowly. “But… realistically, we might have to cover most of it ourselves.”
The words hung in the air. Miyu’s breath broke. The weight of it all finally crashed down on her as she slowly sank to the floor, her knees giving out beneath her. Tears spilled over before she could stop them. Yuma followed her down instantly, keeping his arms around her as he pulled her closer. “Hey… hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, though his own voice was softer now, heavier. Miyu shook her head slightly, burying her face against him as the tears came fully. “We worked so hard…” she choked out. “I know,” Yuma murmured, holding her tighter. “I know.” His hand moved gently over her back, trying to soothe her, but there was a tightness in his chest too. Because he understood. Completely. If it had been his life’s work… if everything he built had been shattered like this, he’d be just as devastated.
Back at (Y/n)’s apartment, the work went faster than expected. Her room wasn’t very big, and she didn’t have much to pack, which made things easier. Still, they were thorough. Careful. Three hours later, everything was done. Boxes were stacked neatly in the trailer, a few more secured in the trunks of the cars. The room itself looked… empty now. Clean. Like no one had ever lived there. Luna took a slow look around, arms folded slightly. “That should be everything…” “Check the bathroom one more time,” Fuma said. They did. Drawers, cabinets, behind the door. Nothing. No trace left.
One by one, they made their way out, the weight of it all settling quietly over them. Jungwon lingered by the door for a second before turning back toward the living room. “…There,” he said, voice steady. “I’ve moved all my stuff.” “Mmh,” one of the girls responded absentmindedly, eyes still glued to the TV. No one even looked at him. Jungwon’s hand tightened slightly around the strap of the bag he was holding. Then he turned, just as he reached the door, “Nice to be rid of the freak.” The words were quiet. But not quiet enough. Jungwon froze for half a second. Something in his chest twisted, sharp and immediate. His fingers curled slightly, an urge rising to turn back, to say something, to do something. But… He knew it wouldn’t matter. So instead, he opened the door. And walked out.
The moment it closed behind him, his form shifted back, his features snapping into place as himself again. He exhaled sharply, jaw tightening as he rolled his shoulders, like trying to shake off the feeling. Rocky stepped closer, lifting her hand slightly as the faint shimmer of magic faded from around him, removing the voice spell. “You did good,” she said quietly. Jungwon nodded, though his expression remained tense. Beside them, Luna’s gaze shifted. “Maki?” she said softly. He stood a little stiff, his jaw clenched tightly, his eyes darker than before. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Maki exhaled slowly through his nose. “They said something,” he muttered. “Right before we left.” Luna’s brows furrowed. “What?” “…Doesn’t matter,” he said, though his tone made it clear it did. Jo scoffed from behind them, clearly having heard it too. “Honestly? Good riddance,” he said, crossing his arms. “She shouldn’t have to be around people like that anyway.” A few quiet murmurs of agreement followed. No one disagreed. There was a shared understanding now. A quiet, protective kind of anger.
Without another word, they began loading into the cars. Doors shut. Engines started. And soon enough, they were on the road again, driving back toward their little village. By the time they returned, the others were already back. The atmosphere in the house felt… different. Heavier. Maki and Luna barely had time to step inside before they found Kei and EJ. “Well?” Maki asked. Kei exchanged a glance with EJ before shaking his head slightly. “Not good.” EJ sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The kitchen’s basically destroyed. There’s not much we can save.” Maki’s expression fell slightly. “Jay’s on the phone with the insurance company right now,” Kei said. “We’re hoping for something, but…” he trailed off. “…It’s unlikely,” EJ finished quietly. A small silence settled between them before Maki nodded.
Tara stepped forward after a moment, gently shifting the topic. “Maki,” she said, “do you want to go through your homework for the week?” He blinked. “Now?” “Well,” she smiled lightly, “you’ve missed two days already because of the earthquake.” Maki let out a small breath, shrugging. “Yeah… might as well.” As they started heading off, (Y/n) made her way over to Luna and Sana. “Hey,” she said softly. They both turned to her. “Thank you,” she continued, her voice genuine. “For everything. Today, and… before that too.” Sana’s expression softened immediately. “Of course.” Luna smiled warmly. “You don’t have to thank us.” (Y/n) shook her head slightly, her eyes glancing briefly toward Jungwon. “Still… thank you.” Jungwon gave her a small nod from where he stood. “Anytime.”
A quiet warmth lingered in the moment. But not everyone felt steady. Taki stood a bit further back. Still. Too still. Something felt… wrong. Or maybe not wrong, just off. Like he wasn’t fully there. Like he was watching everything from a step outside his own body. The voices around him sounded slightly distant, even though he knew they weren’t. The movements, the conversations, it all felt just a little disconnected. He frowned slightly, trying to ground himself. But then, his gaze landed on (Y/n). And something shifted. It was small. Subtle. But there. A pull. Faint. Barely there. But different. His breath caught slightly. The world around him sharpened. Scents that had faded into the background suddenly rushed forward, clearer, stronger. The air felt… alive. And around her, it was like everything changed. Like the space near her burst into color, vivid and overwhelming, like fireworks flickering just beneath the surface of his vision. He blinked, his heart beating a little faster. What…? He didn’t understand it. Didn’t know what was happening. But as he kept looking at her, he realized one thing. He didn’t want it to stop.
~~~
Rocky lingered near the hallway, her eyes flicking briefly toward the living room where Sora was animatedly talking to Aya, clearly keeping her occupied. Good. With a small, satisfied nod, Rocky slipped over to Kei, gently tugging at his sleeve. “Hey,” she murmured. Kei glanced down at her. “What is it?” She quickly pressed a small folded paper into his hand. “Everything you need is on there.” Kei looked at it, then back at her. “Everything?” Rocky nodded. “Her size, whether she prefers gold or silver, design style… all of it.” For a second, Kei just stared at her, impressed. “…You’re sure she didn’t suspect anything?” he asked quietly. Rocky tilted her head, a playful smile forming. “Do you underestimate me?” Kei let out a soft chuckle, bowing his head slightly in mock respect. “Of course not, oh great one.” Rocky laughed under her breath. “Don’t worry. As far as Aya knows, I’ve just been rambling about random ideas because I’ve never designed jewelry before.” Kei shook his head, smiling as he carefully folded the paper again and slipped it into his pocket. “Seriously… thank you.” Rocky gave a small shrug. “Just make it good.”
Before they could rejoin the others, Nicholas’ voice cut in from the side. “…Okay, what are you two planning?” They both turned. Nico stood there, arms loosely crossed, one brow raised as he looked between them. “I’ve seen you two together way too much lately,” he added. “That never ends in something normal.” Rocky’s smile turned a little more mischievous. “It’s a secret.” Nico narrowed his eyes slightly. “Rocky.” “You’ll see soon enough,” she said lightly. He held her gaze for a moment longer before exhaling. “Is it at least not dangerous?” Rocky hesitated for half a second, just enough to be suspicious, before answering, “It’s for Maki’s graduation party.” Nico blinked. “That’s it?” “Well,” she added, “it’s just between me and Kei.” There was a pause. Then Nico shrugged. “Alright.” He turned away like that was enough for him. Rocky watched him go, then let out a quiet breath. “…That was close,” she muttered. Kei smirked slightly. “You handled it.” She shot him a look. “Obviously.”
~~~
(Y/n), Sana, and Luna sat gathered around the firepit, the soft crackling of flames filling the quiet between their voices. The warmth flickered across their faces as they leaned in slightly, the evening air cool against their skin. “So…” Sana started, resting her chin in her hand. “How do we make him realize?” (Y/n) groaned softly, dragging her hands over her face. “If you figure that out, please let me know.” Sana perked up suddenly. “What if we just,” she made a quick hitting motion with her hand, “bonk him on the head with a pan or something? Maybe a concussion would knock some sense into him.” Luna blinked. Then laughed. “I think that would do the opposite,” she said, shaking her head. “Pretty sure we’d just make him forget even more.” Sana pouted slightly. “Worth a try.”
(Y/n) let out a small laugh despite herself, but it faded quickly as she looked back into the fire. Luna’s expression softened as she turned to her. “Okay, this might sound a little… underwhelming,” she said carefully, “but I think you just need to spend more time with him.” (Y/n) glanced at her. “Talk to him,” Luna continued. “Be around him. Let things happen naturally. Maybe he just… needs time to understand.” She gave a small shrug. “Boys can be a bit slow sometimes.” Sana nodded in agreement. “Very slow.” (Y/n) sighed, leaning back slightly as she looked up at the sky.
“Yeah…” she murmured. “I figured that’s what I’d have to do.” She swallowed lightly. “It sounds easy when you say it like that, but… it’s terrifying.” Her fingers curled slightly in her lap. “Honestly, I think I’d prefer the pan idea.” Sana snorted. “But…” (Y/n) continued quietly, “I know I can’t just sit around and wait for it to happen while hiding from him.” Luna and Sana exchanged a look before both leaning in, pulling her into a quick, warm hug. “You’ve got this,” Luna said softly. “Go get your man,” Sana added with a grin. (Y/n) huffed out a small laugh as they pulled away. “Okay, okay…” She took a breath and pushed herself to her feet. As she started walking, her heart picked up speed, each step feeling heavier than it should. Then, that voice again. Soft. Familiar. Mate. She paused for half a second. Then, quieter this time, We’ve got this. (Y/n)’s lips curved into a small smile. “…Well,” she whispered under her breath, “at least one of us is confident.” And with that, she kept walking.
Taki stood a little off to the side, talking quietly with Jungwon and Niki. Or at least, Jungwon and Niki were talking. Taki was only half present, his mind still drifting in that strange, disconnected feeling. Niki was the first to notice her. His words slowed, then stopped entirely, his eyes shifting past Taki. Jungwon followed his gaze. Taki frowned slightly. “What?” Then he turned. And saw her. For a second, everything else faded. It happened again. That same shift. That same overwhelming awareness. It was like the world dimmed just enough for her to stand out, like there was a light behind her, soft but blinding at the same time. It framed her in a way that didn’t make sense, something almost unreal, like she didn’t fully belong to the same space as everything else. Like she was… An angel.
Taki’s breath caught slightly. (Y/n) stopped a few steps away from him, her hands fidgeting lightly at her sides. “Can we talk?” she asked. Taki nodded immediately. He didn’t trust his voice. Jungwon and Niki exchanged a look but said nothing as Taki stepped away with her. They walked. Neither of them really knowing where they were going. The forest stretched around them, quiet except for the soft crunch of leaves beneath their feet. (Y/n) kept moving forward, trusting that if she went too far, he would stop her. He didn’t. So they kept going. Until finally, she stopped. Turning to face him. Taki stopped a step away, meeting her gaze. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“I know you don’t feel it,” (Y/n) said quietly. Her voice was steady, but there was something fragile underneath. “But my wolf…” she let out a small, almost disbelieving breath. “which I still can’t believe I’m saying, my wolf is sure.” Her eyes searched his. “It can’t be wrong.” A pause. “Right?” Her voice softened. “So why don’t you feel it?” Taki’s chest tightened. He broke eye contact, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. His hands curled slightly at his sides. “I want to. I want to understand it, to feel what you’re talking about, but I just…” He exhaled, frustrated. “I don’t.”
There was a sharp edge to his voice now. “I hate it,” he added under his breath. “I really do.” Silence settled between them again. (Y/n)’s gaze dropped, her fingers twisting together. “…Are you disappointed?” she asked softly. “That I could be your mate?” Taki’s head snapped up immediately. “No,” he said, almost too quickly. “No, of course not.” He shook his head, stepping a little closer without realizing it. “You’re… amazing,” he said, the words coming more easily than he expected. “You’re kind, and strong, and,” he hesitated slightly, “I admire you. I really do.” His voice softened, more uncertain now. “I’m just…” He struggled to find the right word. “…indifferent,” he finished quietly. “Because I don’t know if it’s real.” His gaze met hers again, conflicted. “If we really are mates… shouldn’t I feel it too?”
It hurt. More than she expected. Each word he said felt like something pressing against her chest, tightening, making it harder to breathe. But before she could retreat into that feeling, something else pushed forward. Her wolf. It was subtle at first, like a nudge. Then stronger. Urging. Insisting. Speak. (Y/n) straightened slightly, her gaze locking onto his. It almost didn’t feel like her anymore, like she was stepping into a role, saying lines she didn’t know she had.
“But you do feel it,” she said, her voice firmer now, rising slightly. “I know you do. Or at least your wolf does.” She held his gaze, waiting. Taki’s brows furrowed, frustration flickering across his face. Why was she yelling at him? Didn’t she understand he was trying? “I don’t know how to get it through to you,” he snapped back, his voice sharper than before, “that I don’t feel anything.” The words hit harder this time. “And I don’t know why you’re being so blind,” (Y/n) shot back, her voice cutting through the space between them. Something in Taki snapped.
His jaw clenched tightly, a low tension building in his chest as his fangs slowly extended, pressing against his lip. His vision sharpened, the world around him becoming clearer, more intense, his eyes shifting from brown to gold. “I’m not blind,” he said, his voice lower now, more controlled but edged with something dangerous. “I’m just being truthful.” (Y/n) let out a sharp, frustrated sound, half shout, half something breaking loose inside her. And then, it happened. A crack. Then another. Her body jerked slightly as bones began to shift, snapping and reforming in rapid succession. Muscles twisted and stretched, her frame dropping as the transformation took over completely.
It was fast. Violent. Uncontrolled. Within seconds, she wasn’t standing there anymore. A wolf stood in her place. Her fur bristled, chest rising and falling heavily as she bared her teeth at him, a low, rumbling growl vibrating from deep within her. This wasn’t hesitation. This wasn’t fear. It was a threat. Clear. Direct. And Taki froze. Because for the first time, there was no doubt. She wasn’t holding back. Taki’s body tensed, instincts taking over as he prepared himself to fight. His muscles coiled, his senses sharpened further, every detail of the forest suddenly painfully clear.
But before he could move, a voice. Do you still feel nothing? Taki froze. It wasn’t spoken out loud. It was in his head. His eyes widened slightly as he stared at the wolf in front of him. (Y/n)…? Had she already figured out how to use a mindlink? “I…” he said out loud, his voice unsteady. “I don’t know. Everything just feels, wrong. Weird.” You’re just afraid to feel. The words echoed through him. Taki blinked. “Afraid?” he repeated, almost scoffing. But the moment the word settled. Something shifted. A shiver ran down his spine, sharp and sudden, like something breaking through a wall he didn’t even know was there. And then, memories. They crashed into him. The attack. Blood. Chaos. Screams. His first pack. Euijoo and Nicholas grabbing him, pulling him away, their voices urgent as they ran for their lives. His legs barely keeping up, his heart pounding in terror.
His parents, the sound of their screams. The image of his mother’s face, blurred, distant, like something he could never fully reach again. Gone. Then, another memory. More recent. Euijoo again. On the brink of death. All because of something similar, because of hesitation, because of fear, because of not accepting what was right in front of him. The weight of it pressed down on him, suffocating. What if it happens again? The thought wasn’t quiet. It roared. What if she was his mate? What if he let himself feel it, and then lost her? How much would that hurt? Would it break him the same way? Worse? His breath grew uneven. What if I never connect with my wolf? The thought slipped in, quieter, but just as sharp. What if I’m incomplete? What if I’m not good enough for her? What if I fail? What if I disappoint everyone?
His hands trembled slightly at his sides, his golden eyes flickering with something deeper now. Fear. Not of her. But of everything that came with her. As the thoughts spiraled, faster and louder, Taki’s knees gave out beneath him. He hit the ground, hands clutching his head as if he could hold everything together, as if he could stop it from splitting apart. His breath came in uneven gasps, chest tight, heart racing too fast. It felt like something was cracking him open from the inside. The fear. The memories. The what ifs. It was too much.
But then, he felt warmth. Arms wrapped around him, sudden and grounding, pulling him out of the storm just enough to breathe. A voice, soft but steady, right against him. “It’s okay…” Taki’s body tensed for a second before slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his head. His vision was blurred with tears, but through it, he saw her. (Y/n). Back in her human form. Holding him. She was crying too. “It’s okay,” she whispered again, her voice trembling but firm. “It’s okay to be scared… but we have to face it. Together.” The word together lingered. Taki blinked, his breathing still uneven, but something inside him shifted again.
He was aware, somewhere in the back of his mind, that she wasn’t wearing anything. But it didn’t matter. Not right now. Because all he could focus on was the warmth. The way she held him like she wasn’t going to let him fall apart. The way it felt, safe. A voice. Clear. Deep. Mate. It repeated over and over again. Taki’s breath caught. His eyes widened slightly as something clicked into place, something that had been just out of reach finally settling where it belonged.
Slowly, he pulled back from her, his hands still slightly trembling as he shrugged off his jacket and held it out to her. She blinked, then let out a small, breathy sound. “Oh, thanks.” She took it quickly, pulling it around herself, wrapping it tightly before looking back at him. Once she was covered, she reached out, offering him her hand. Taki hesitated for only a second before taking it. She pulled him up gently. “I saw… everything,” she said quietly. “Heard every thought you had.” Before he could react, she stepped forward and hugged him again. “I’m scared too,” she admitted, her voice muffled slightly against him. “But I’m more scared of being alone.” Her grip tightened just a little. “After coming here… after everything changed so suddenly…” she swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone again. It terrifies me.” She pulled back just enough to look at him. “Lone wolves don’t do well, right?”
Taki didn’t hesitate this time. He pulled her closer, arms wrapping tightly around her as his body shook with quiet sobs. “I’m so scared…” he kept repeating, his voice breaking over and over again. “I’m so, so scared…” (Y/n) held him just as tightly, one hand pressing gently against the back of his head, the other around his shoulders, grounding him. She could feel it. Every ounce of fear. Every lingering piece of pain. It flowed through him, raw and unfiltered, and somehow… she felt it too. “It’s okay,” she whispered softly. “I’m here.” “I’m sorry,” Taki choked out. “I’m so sorry… for not knowing, for not feeling it sooner…” He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes still wet, his voice trembling.
“You’re my mate,” he said. The words came out like a realization. Like a truth finally spoken. “You’re my mate,” he repeated, again and again, like he needed to say it until it fully settled inside him. (Y/n) smiled softly, her chest warming, something deep inside her responding to those words. It spread through her, filling every corner, steady and bright. After a while, Taki felt it too. The shift. The warmth. Love. Relief. Happiness. It washed over him so suddenly that it almost made him dizzy. But, it wasn’t his. He blinked, confused for a second, even as tears kept falling down his cheeks. “…This is you,” he whispered. (Y/n) nodded slightly, her own eyes glassy. “It goes both ways,” she said softly.
She reached up, gently wiping away his tears with her thumb, smiling through her own. And something in Taki just… gave in. Before he could think, before he could stop himself, he leaned in. And kissed her. It was sudden. Unplanned. But it felt necessary. Like something he had to do. (Y/n)’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as she felt his lips against hers, the moment catching her off guard. But only for a second. Then she melted into it. Her eyes slowly closed, her body relaxing as she kissed him back. The tension, the anger, the frustration, it all faded. Her eyes returned to their normal color, her fangs retracting as everything settled. Leaving behind only, warmth. Relief. And something steady, something certain. Love.
When they finally pulled away, the world felt… still. Too still. They just stood there, close, eyes locked on each other, both breathing a little unevenly. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved. It was like everything had changed, and they didn’t quite know what came next. Taki’s hand was still lightly holding onto her arm, like he wasn’t ready to let go. (Y/n)’s fingers hovered near his, unsure whether to pull away or hold on tighter. Neither of them chose. Not yet. Then, someone cleared their throat. Both of them startled slightly, turning their heads at the same time. EJ stood a few steps away, arms loosely crossed, watching them.
There was something different in his expression. Understanding. But also… something else. Something like quiet amazement. His gaze lingered on Taki for a moment longer. Because for the first time in years, Taki’s wolf was there. Not distant. Not faint. But strong. Present. Alive. Just like it had been before everything was taken from him. Before they were just children running from something they couldn’t fight. EJ exhaled softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “…Come on,” he said, turning slightly. “Let’s head inside, you two.” He started walking without waiting. (Y/n) and Taki glanced at each other again. This time, there was no hesitation. Their hands found each other naturally. Fingers intertwining. And together, they followed.
As they reached the porch of the main house, Sora was already there, like she had been waiting. In her hands, a blanket. She stepped forward immediately, offering it to (Y/n) without a word. (Y/n) blinked, then took it with a small, grateful smile, wrapping it around her waist, securing it over Taki’s jacket. “Thank you,” she murmured. Sora just nodded, her gaze flicking briefly between the two of them. (Y/n) looked back toward EJ. “How did you know?” EJ paused, glancing over his shoulder. “I felt it,” he said simply. “The moment your wolf broke free.”
His eyes settled on her, thoughtful. “Your presence…” he continued slowly, “it’s strong. Stronger than most.” There was a brief pause. “On par with someone like Kei,” he added. “And he’s close to being an alpha.” (Y/n) blinked, surprised. EJ’s gaze softened slightly. “Or maybe,” he added, “your emotions were just that intense… that you called out to more than just Taki.” A quiet understanding settled over the space. Because whatever it had been, it had changed something. Not just for them. But for all of them. EJ glanced between them, his gaze sharp but calm. “I take it… you’re both fully awake and connected now, right?” (Y/n) and Taki exchanged a quick look before nodding. “Yeah,” Taki said, his voice still a little unsteady. “I think so… just,” he let out a small breath, almost laughing under it, “still in shock.”
Almost unconsciously, his hand searched for hers again. (Y/n) didn’t hesitate. She took it, fingers intertwining with his, giving a gentle squeeze. Grounding him. EJ noticed, a small smile forming on his lips. “I’m glad,” he said simply. Then his expression shifted, a bit more practical now. “But it’s getting late.” They both looked at him. “We got an email earlier,” he continued. “The schools are reopening. Everything’s ready again.” Taki blinked. “Already?” EJ nodded. “Which means all of you who are students… go back tomorrow.” There was a brief pause as that settled in. “So,” EJ added, “you should both get some sleep.” Sora leaned slightly against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed. “Niki’s going with you again,” she said. “He didn’t really get to experience a proper day last time.” From inside, a faint voice called out, “I’m excited this time!”
Sora smiled faintly. “Miyu and Luna also said they’ll make you something good for lunch.” (Y/n) shifted slightly, her grip on Taki’s hand tightening just a little. “…Are you sure I should go?” she asked quietly. EJ stepped closer. He placed a hand on her shoulder. For a moment, everything felt still. Then, his eyes shifted. Bleeding red. (Y/n) froze instantly under his gaze, her body going rigid as something instinctual told her not to move. He studied her. Carefully. Then his gaze flicked to Taki, his eyes still glowing as he examined him the same way. The air felt heavier for those few seconds. Then, it was gone.
His eyes returned to brown, his expression softening again. “I don’t see any concerns,” he said calmly. “You’re both in tune with your wolves now.” He glanced between them. “That means you should have control.” (Y/n) let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Oh,” EJ added casually, “and I’ll have Fuma nearby. Just in case anything goes south.” Taki huffed lightly. “That’s… reassuring.” EJ smirked faintly. “It should be.” Then he stepped back, gesturing toward the door. “Now go. Get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be… interesting.”
~~~
And just like that, time slipped through their fingers. Days passed quickly, too quickly, like someone lazily flipping through the pages of a calendar. The sun rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the moon following faithfully each night, until the air itself began to change. Summer was coming. Faster than anyone expected. And with it, two plans, quietly building in the background. Maki’s graduation party. And Kei’s proposal. With only two days left until graduation, the pack was starting to struggle to keep everything a secret. Conversations had to be cut short when Maki walked in, decorations hidden at a moment’s notice, plans whispered instead of spoken. But somehow, they had managed. So far. And Kei had managed to keep his plan hidden, with the help of Rocky and Sora.
Koyomi had been rebuilt, too. The damage had been bad, but the insurance had covered most of it, taking a weight off everyone’s shoulders. The kitchen stood strong again, filled once more with the sounds of life, of cooking, of laughter. Maki had been glowing ever since. “I can’t wait to finally start working for real,” he had said more than once, stretching lazily after finishing homework. “No more of this useless stuff.” And yet, despite all his complaints, he had been working harder than ever, determined to finish strong.
Taki and (Y/n) had found their rhythm too. At school, they were inseparable. Acting together, eating together, walking between classes side by side, like it had always been that way. And when they got home, training. Every single day. Until dinner. Learning. Pushing. Understanding their wolves, their connection, how to move together instead of separately. It wasn’t always easy. But it was working. More than working. EJ, Fuma, Kei, and Nicholas had all noticed. And they were impressed. “Again,” Fuma had said one evening, arms crossed as he watched them circle each other. They moved in sync. Not perfectly, but close. Close enough to feel it. When they attacked, it wasn’t random anymore. It was coordinated, instinctive, like they could predict each other without needing words. And when they faced Jay, in a training match. They won. Not easily. Not without effort. But they won. Jay wiped a bit of blood from his lip afterward, staring at them with a mix of surprise and pride. “…Okay,” he muttered. “That was actually good.” And coming from him, that meant everything. Because he hadn’t gone easy on them.
“Alright, you two, head inside,” EJ called out, crossing his arms as he watched them. “Dinner will be ready soon.” Taki and (Y/n) nodded, both smiling a little, still slightly out of breath from training as they turned and headed inside to change. Jay stepped up beside EJ, watching them disappear through the door. “To think how much they’ve grown, huh?” EJ let out a quiet hum, his gaze lingering. “Yeah… feels like yesterday Taki still had the roundest cheeks,” he said with a small smile. “He was so small.” There was a brief pause. “And now…” EJ exhaled softly. “He’s all grown up.” Jay smiled at that, something warm in his expression. “They’re a wonderful pack,” he said. “I’m proud… and honored to be a part of it.” Before he could say anything more, Fuma and Nicholas stepped up behind him, each placing a hand on one of his shoulders. “We’re happy to have you here,” Fuma said simply. Nicholas nodded in agreement. “Wouldn’t be the same without you.” Jay let out a small, quiet laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders.
Kei nudged EJ lightly with his elbow. “They’ve all grown a lot,” he said. “All of them.” He glanced toward the house. “And to think… most of this started because Harua wanted to write stories.” EJ chuckled under his breath. “It’s strange,” he admitted. “How something so small turned into… all of this.” Euijoo let out a soft laugh of his own. “It really is,” he said. “They’re all adults now.” His gaze softened slightly. “And somehow… they survived everything.” A quiet understanding settled between them. Fuma’s expression shifted, more thoughtful now. “I still see Maki as that five-year-old I found in the woods,” he admitted. “Running around, scared out of his mind…” He paused. “…Maybe I don’t always want to admit he’s grown up,” he added quietly. “That he doesn’t need me like he used to.” No one interrupted. Fuma exhaled slowly. “Sometimes it’s easier to hold onto the past,” he said, “because the future feels… uncertain.”
Jay glanced between them, then spoke again, lighter this time. “What do you all think about Niki staying?” They looked at him. “He’s been asking me for a while,” Jay continued. “If he could stay here. Like Jungwon did.” There was a brief pause. Then EJ sighed, though there was a hint of a smile behind it. “Niki was accepted the moment he helped protect Taki and (Y/n) in that broken drama classroom,” he said. “He just hasn’t realized it yet.” Jay blinked. Then smiled, relief clear on his face. “Good,” he said softly. “I quite like having my two younger brothers around.” Fuma smirked slightly. “You’re getting soft.” “Shut up,” Jay muttered, though he was still smiling.
~~~
The next two days flew by in a blur. And before anyone really had time to process it, it was here. Graduation day. Maki was practically bouncing the moment he woke up, energy radiating off him in a way none of them had ever seen before. “I’m finally graduating!” he said, grinning so wide it almost looked like it hurt. Even as he grabbed his things, he kept talking, barely able to stand still. “No more homework, no more teachers telling me what to do,” “Don’t get too excited,” Kei teased from the side. “Real life is worse.” Maki rolled his eyes. “Let me have this moment.” A few laughs followed as he made his way to the door. “Good luck!” Luna called. “Don’t trip on stage!” Niki added. “Shut up!” Maki shot back, though he was still smiling as he stepped out.
The second the door closed, chaos errupted. “Okay, go, go, go!” Everyone moved at once. Decorations were pulled out, streamers hung, signs placed up across walls and doorways. Tables were arranged, food prepared, last-minute touches added wherever they could. “Higher, no, higher!” “It’s falling, someone hold that!” “Where’s the banner?!” “Check the kitchen!” Time felt like it was slipping through their fingers, but somehow, they finished, just in time. After a quick rush to get ready themselves, they piled into the cars, the drive to the school just a little faster than it probably should’ve been. “Don’t get us pulled over,” Fuma muttered. “No promises,” Yuma replied.
They made it. Barely. Settling into their seats just as the ceremony continued, watching as names were called one by one. Then, “Maus Riki, Maki.” He stepped up. Confident. Smiling. And for a moment, everything else faded as they watched him walk across that stage, accepting his diploma. Fuma’s gaze didn’t leave him. Not once. And though he quickly wiped at his eye, pretending nothing happened, a tear had slipped through. Maki turned, diploma in hand, scanning the crowd until he found them. His smile widened even more. “I did it!” he called out, holding it up proudly. Taki grinned, lifting both thumbs up in response. “Finally!” Niki whispered loudly. Luna laughed softly beside him.
Behind them, Miyu had already started crying, her shoulders shaking slightly as she tried to wipe her tears. “My little brother…” she mumbled, voice thick with emotion. “He’s all grown up…” Yuma wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer as she cried into his shoulder, smiling softly despite it. “He did good,” he murmured. “He did amazing,” she sniffed.
Not long after, they were back in the cars. Maki sat with them this time, still holding his diploma like it might disappear if he let go. “I can’t believe it,” he kept saying. “I actually did it.” “You did,” Luna smiled. “Barely,” Kei added. Maki nudged him. “Don’t ruin it.” Laughter filled the car as they drove back. Back home. Where everything was waiting. The decorations. The food. The surprise. And none of them could quite hide their excitement as they got closer.
As they neared the village, Luna leaned over and gently tied a blindfold around Maki’s eyes. “Hey, what?” he laughed, reaching up instinctively. “Why?” “Just do it, please,” Luna said, her voice soft but insistent. Maki paused for a second. Then smiled. “…Alright,” he said, letting his hands drop. “I trust you.” And really, how could he not? Not when she was looking at him like that. The cars came to a stop, and carefully, they guided him out, hands steady on his arms as they led him toward the house. “Careful, step,” “I’ve got you,” Luna murmured. Maki chuckled under his breath, his curiosity growing with every step. They stopped. For a brief moment, everything went quiet. Luna slipped away from his side, moving quickly to join the others. Maki tilted his head slightly. “Okay… now I’m definitely suspicious.” “Just wait,” Niki whispered, barely holding back his grin.
Out on the porch, everything was ready. Fuma and Kei stood at the front, holding up a large sign that read Happy Graduation Day!. Behind them, Yuma and Harua stood with confetti cannons in hand, fingers ready on the triggers. The rest of the pack gathered around, some holding gifts, others near the table where Luna’s cake sat proudly in the center. And among them, (Y/n). She stood beside Taki, his hand warm in hers, her fingers intertwined with his. For a moment earlier, she had felt a little out of place. Like she was stepping into something that had existed long before her. But Taki had squeezed her hand, smiling softly. “He’d only care if you weren’t here,” he had said. “You’re part of the pack. You’re supposed to be here.” And just like that, she believed it. So now, she stood there, smiling, heart steady, waiting with everyone else.
“Okay!” Nicholas called. Maki reached up, pulling the blindfold off. And the second he did, “Surprise!” The shout echoed around him as Yuma and Harua fired the confetti cannons, colorful bursts filling the air around him. Maki blinked, then broke into a wide, bright smile, laughter bubbling out of him as he took it all in. The decorations. The people. The effort. The love. “…You guys,” he laughed, shaking his head slightly, overwhelmed in the best way. “You actually did all this?” “Of course we did,” Luna grinned. “For you?” Niki added. “Obviously.” Maki looked around at all of them, his chest tightening, not with anything painful this time. Just, warmth. Pure, overwhelming warmth. “…I love you guys,” he said, still smiling as he stepped forward into it all.
The party carried on, laughter and music filling the air as the evening settled in. Cake was passed around, plates quickly emptied as everyone gathered closer, some sitting, others standing, all talking over each other in that familiar, chaotic way. Maki sat in the middle of it all, surrounded by gifts. “Okay, okay, this one next,” Niki urged, practically leaning over his shoulder. Maki laughed, shaking his head as he opened another box. Inside were neatly folded clothes, simple, clean, but clearly well-made. He picked up one of the shirts, turning it slightly before pausing. “Y&R?” he read aloud, brows lifting. “What brand is that?” Across from him, Yuma and Rocky exchanged a look before chuckling.
“Ours,” Yuma said casually. Maki blinked. “Wait, yours?” Rocky grinned. “We haven’t officially launched it yet,” she admitted. “But we decided a few days ago to start our own brand.” Yuma nodded. “And those,” he gestured to the shirts, “are the first pieces.” Rocky leaned forward slightly. “Special edition.” Maki looked down at the shirt again, then back at them, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “…That’s actually so cool,” he said. “Thank you.” “Wear it well,” Yuma smirked. “I will,” Maki nodded.
As the night deepened, someone got the fire going, and soon the scent of grilled meat and vegetables filled the air. People moved around, some taking over the cooking, others grabbing plates, laughing, talking. Music played from somewhere nearby, and a few had already started dancing, Niki dragging Jay along, despite his complaints. “Stop resisting!” Niki laughed. “I am resisting!” “Not enough!” Luna and Miyu watched, laughing softly, while Jay shook his head from the side, though a small smile betrayed him. The energy was light. Joyful.
But not everyone was in the center of it. Off to the side, Rocky and Sora exchanged a quick glance. Kei had just stepped away, sent off on some vague excuse that no one questioned. Perfect. “No one’s noticed yet,” Rocky murmured, keeping her tone casual as she turned back to the others, deliberately pulling a few into conversation, keeping attention away. Sora nodded slightly before slipping away. She found Aya not far off, watching the others with a soft smile. “Hey,” Sora said, stepping beside her. “Want to go for a walk?” Aya glanced at her, a little surprised. “Right now?” “Yeah,” Sora shrugged lightly. “It’s a bit loud here.” Aya looked back toward the party for a second… then nodded. “Okay.” And just like that, the two of them walked away from the noise, their steps quiet as they moved toward the path leading into the forest. Their conversation started light. Easy. Talking about small things, anything and everything, and so the next plan quietly began to unfold.
~~~
Kei adjusted his sleeves for what felt like the hundredth time, his breath steadying as he looked around. Everything was in place. The candles flickered softly, their warm glow dancing in the evening air, while the magical flowers Rocky had given him shimmered faintly in pink hues, their light almost ethereal. Together, they formed a perfect heart around him, glowing gently in the dimness. It felt surreal. Like something out of a dream. And there he stood in the center, dressed neatly in his suit, hands slightly tense at his sides as he waited. He heard footsteps. Faint, but unmistakable. They were getting closer.
As Sora and Aya approached the pond, Aya slowed down, her brows knitting together. “…That’s weird,” she murmured. The area ahead was glowing. Soft light flickering through the trees, reflecting off the water in a way that definitely hadn’t been there before. Sora stopped walking. “You should go check it out,” she said gently. Aya turned to her. “What? Why aren’t you coming?” Sora gave a small shrug. “I’ll just use my vampire speed and check around the grounds. Make sure nothing strange is going on.” Aya tilted her head slightly. “…That’s already strange.” Sora smiled faintly. “Exactly.” There was a pause. Then Aya sighed lightly. “Alright… but don’t disappear on me.” “I won’t,” Sora said. And with that, Aya continued forward alone.
Step by step, the light grew brighter. Warmer. Until finally, she saw him. Standing there, surrounded by that glowing heart. Her breath caught. “…Yudai?” she called softly, her voice filled with confusion and something else, something softer. “What’s this?” Kei turned toward her fully, his expression gentle, but there was a nervousness in his eyes that he couldn’t quite hide. He stepped forward slightly, extending his hand toward her. “Come here,” he said quietly. Aya hesitated for just a second before stepping closer, placing her hand in his. He helped her inside the heart, their fingers lingering together for a moment longer than necessary. Kei took a deep breath. Steadying himself. Because now, he had to speak.
Kei’s grip on her hand tightened slightly as he began, his voice soft, but steady. “Aya… you’re the love of my life,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “Literally the only one I’ve ever loved… and ever will love.” Aya’s breath hitched, tears already welling in her eyes. “For a little over two years now,” he continued, a small, almost disbelieving smile tugging at his lips, “you’ve had my heart. And I’m so happy you accepted me… despite me being a wolf… and having such a crazy family.” Aya let out a quiet, teary laugh, squeezing his hand. Kei exhaled, his expression turning more serious. “When the earthquake hit a few months ago…” he paused, his voice faltering just slightly, “I thought I lost you.” Aya’s tears slipped over, silently falling down her cheeks. “And I realized…” he swallowed, steadying himself, “there are still so many things I want to do with you. So many things I want to say.”
He took a small step back. “So… just like the first time I saw you, when I practically fell to my knees for you,” A soft, breathy laugh escaped her. Kei smiled faintly. “I’m going to do it properly this time.” And with that, he lowered himself onto one knee. Aya’s hands flew to her mouth, her breath catching completely now. Kei held out a small box, opening it to reveal the ring, the soft glow of the flowers reflecting against it. “Aya…” he said, his voice quieter now, but filled with everything he felt. “Will you marry me?” For a moment, there was nothing. Just silence. Aya stood there, tears falling freely, her chest rising and falling as she tried to speak. Her hand trembled as she reached for his. She nodded quickly, almost desperately, as if she couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “Yes,” she choked out. “Yes, of course, yes.”
Relief flooded Kei’s face instantly. He stood up, his hands slightly shaking as he slipped the ring onto her finger, fitting perfectly. Aya let out a small, broken laugh through her tears, looking down at it for half a second before throwing her arms around him. He caught her easily. And then, they kissed. Soft at first. Then deeper, full of everything they hadn’t said, everything they almost lost. Around them, the magical flowers suddenly burst, petals shooting into the air like confetti before drifting down in a soft, glowing pink rain. It surrounded them, clinging to their hair, their clothes, the moment itself. Like the world was celebrating with them. Not far away, hidden among the trees, Sora stood quietly, a small smile on her lips as she held up a camera, carefully recording everything. Every word. Every tear. Every second. A secret she and Rocky had planned, one more memory to keep forever.
As they slowly pulled away from the kiss, Aya let out a soft, breathless laugh, her fingers immediately lifting to look at the ring. It caught the light beautifully. “…So,” she said, glancing up at him with a knowing smile, “Rocky isn’t designing jewelry, huh?” Yudai, laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I might’ve… asked her for help.” Aya raised a brow. “And Sora,” he added quickly. “They both helped plan everything. Including getting your ring size.” Aya’s smile widened, a quiet giggle escaping her as she intertwined their fingers. “I should’ve known,” she murmured. Then, without hesitation, she gently tugged him along. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s go back.” She glanced at him, her expression softening even more. “I love you.” Kei’s face lit up completely, a dopey, lovestruck smile spreading across his lips as he followed her. “I love you too.”
As they returned, the sound of the party reached them again, laughter, music, the crackling fire. Rocky and Sora were the first to notice. Both of them immediately straightened, sharing mischievous smiles. Then everyone else turned. And as Aya lifted her hand, the ring catching the firelight, the reaction was instant. “What?!” “No way,” “Are you serious?!” “You’re engaged?!” Miyu gasped, hands flying to her mouth, while Nicholas blinked, then slowly turned his head toward Rocky and Sora. “…So that’s why you two were acting weird,” he said. Rocky just grinned. Sora tried, and failed, to hide her smile. Miyu rushed forward next, grabbing Aya’s hands, eyes already teary again. “Let me see!” “It’s beautiful, oh my god,” The group quickly crowded around them, voices overlapping, excitement bubbling over as they celebrated the news.
A little away from the chaos, by the fire, Taki and (Y/n) sat side by side. Their hands were still intertwined, resting between them as they watched everything unfold. Taki leaned slightly toward her, pressing a soft kiss to her temple as the flames danced in front of them. “…That’s gonna be us someday,” he said quietly. (Y/n) glanced at him, a teasing smile forming. “Oh?” she hummed. “Are you so sure I’d say yes?” Taki pulled back slightly, feigning offense, placing his free hand dramatically over his chest. “Do you not love me, my dear?” he said in an exaggerated posh tone. (Y/n) raised her chin slightly, matching his tone perfectly. “It is not I who decides, my love,” she replied, just as dramatic. “It is the moon.” There was a pause.
Then, they both broke. Laughter spilled out of them, light and easy, as the tension melted into something warm and familiar. Taki leaned in again, this time pressing a quick, soft peck to her lips. And for a moment, with the fire crackling, laughter in the background, and the future stretching out ahead of them, everything felt exactly right.
“Alright, everyone up!” Niki suddenly shouted, clapping his hands together. “We’re dancing. This is a celebration!” A collective groan spread through the group. “I just sat down,” “Give me five minutes,” “Nope!” Niki cut them off, already grabbing Jungwon’s arm and pulling him up. “No excuses!” “I didn’t agree to this!” Jungwon protested, stumbling slightly as he was dragged along. “You’re agreeing now!” And somehow, no one could really refuse him. One by one, they got up, laughter already creeping in as the music got louder, the energy shifting again. Soon enough, everyone was moving.
Some, like Niki, Jungwon, and Jo, actually danced seriously, their movements sharp, controlled, almost impressive. The rest? Not so much. They danced however they felt like, goofily, carelessly, bumping into each other, spinning, laughing. At one point, Fuma stepped back, and tripped. Completely. Over the same root that had been there the entire night. He caught himself just in time, muttering something under his breath, only for Sunoo, not even a minute later, to do the exact same thing. Same root. Same stumble. Same expression. For a second, there was silence. Then, laughter exploded around them. “Not you too!” Niki wheezed. “I hate this place,” Sunoo muttered, though he was laughing too.
A little to the side, but still part of it all, Taki and (Y/n) danced together. Not perfectly. Not seriously. Just… together. Taki had one hand holding hers, the other occasionally gesturing dramatically as he sang along to the music, except he didn’t actually know the lyrics. So he made them up. Loudly. Confidently. Completely wrong. “And then you, uh…shine like a… potato in the niiiight,” (Y/n) burst out laughing. “That’s not even close!” “It fits the vibe!” he defended, spinning her lightly. She laughed again, the sound bright, unrestrained, wider than anyone had seen from her before.
And it was real. Completely real. Because despite everything, the confusion. The fear. The doubt in the beginning, she knew now. She loved him. Truly. And she didn’t want anyone else. Didn’t want to be anywhere else. Here, with him. With them. They had time. Years ahead of them to grow stronger, to understand each other fully, to build something even deeper. But right now, none of that mattered. Because in this moment, with music playing, laughter echoing, and his hand in hers, she was exactly where she was meant to be. And so was he. They didn’t look back. They didn’t look forward. They just stayed, right here. Together. In love. And completely, effortlessly happy.
~~~ The End ~~~
OMG, this is a long one! There’s so much going on, but I love it, I hope you guys did too! What are your thoughts? Did you shed a tear or two? There’s so much going on with Maki and Kei, too, in this one, but it was needed. Hence also why it is so long. But I also wanted to build up a lot for Taki and his mate’s connection. And we got to meet Niki! Now, I just need a name for Taki’s mate to use in the special parts.
I think I spent like 10 hours a day and 2 weeks writing this one. I was dreaming about how to continue writing, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night, grabbing my phone to write down what I had just dreamed.
But with this one, the official series is complete. I can’t believe it. I want to thank everyone who has read this series, and especially all of you who reblog and comment, or send an anon ask. Hearing what you guys think is so important; it gives me more motivation to keep writing! So, I really want to thank all of you for supporting this series, from beginning to end. I love all of you! 😭💕🥰🥹
This is amasziingggg 🥹🥹🥹 somehow reading this did not feel long at all!!! I loved the little storylines combined from the other members and the chemistry also between the members and mates! It was lovely and kept me so hooked🤭 I felt so anxious when it came to the flowers, somehow I thought something else would go wrong and happen or more flowers would appear hehe such a cool idea<3 I realllyyy enjoyed this series and wish it could go on forever😍 much love and gratitude to you!!!
Warnings: emotional distress, fear of rejection, self-esteem issues, discussion of bullying & body image (reader is described as somewhat plus size), arguing, mild language, slight angst, I think that’s about it
It's finally time for Maki to find his mate! Hold onto your tissues, because this is a roller coaster. Just one more official part left in this series, I can't believe it. Of course, we still have the special parts left as well, but still, we're coming closer to the end.
Taglist: @voucearse, @nadiakittyy, @evemeri, @petunia05, @yumnyangiexx, @somswib, @mrcarrots, @seodami, @reiofsuns2001, @charlie-sk, @lacedwithmsg, @cherry012309, @mactuna, @mauschim, @dheimyoung-im23, @stayluneatinyengenezen, let me know if anyone else wants to join the taglist for the last few parts!
Featuring Enhypen's Jay, Sunoo, and another secret member 👀
Network: @k-records
Please reblog, comment, and like if you enjoyed this!
Yudai/Kei 2. Yuma 3. EJ EJ extra 4. Jo 5. Nicholas 6. Special fic 7. Fuma 8. Harua 10.
Aya = Kei’s mate Miyu = Yuma’s mate Sora = EJ’s mate Sana = Jo’s mate Rocky = Nicholas’ mate Tara = Fuma's mate Willow = Harua's mate
Miyu, Jay, and Maki sat around one of the corner tables at Koyomi, mugs of coffee and half-eaten pastries scattered between notebooks and receipts as they discussed their newest problem, staffing. Yuma and Rocky sat with them, ready to help. Rocky was already twirling a pen between her fingers while Yuma leaned over her shoulder, eager to design something dramatic.
“I think what we really need is someone who specializes in desserts,” Miyu said thoughtfully. “Lila was incredible at baking, and while Maki’s been covering lately,” “Hey,” Maki interrupted, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “My feelings.” She laughed. “You’re good,” she continued, smiling apologetically, “but it’s not quite the same.” Maki huffed, pretending to sulk for a moment before nodding. “Okay, yeah, fair. I’m way better at cooking than baking anyway. Cakes hate me.” Jay chuckled. “What we need is a top-tier baker.”
“And what better way to find one,” Jay added, eyes lighting up, “than a competition?” Miyu’s eyes widened. “That’s actually… genius.” Yuma gasped. “YES. A bake-off.” Rocky was already scribbling ideas down. “Say less. I’m designing the poster.” And just like that, Yuma and Rocky dove into sketching out ads and flyers, determined to lure in the best bakers in town, and hopefully, Koyomi’s newest employee.
A few days later, Yuma and Rocky finally finished both the poster and the newspaper ad, spreading the designs out across the table when Aya and Harua came by to pick them up. “Oh my god,” Sana said, leaning over Yuma’s shoulder, “these look amazing.” Rocky flipped her hair proudly. “Obviously.” Miyu smiled wide, walking over to Yuma and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for this. Seriously.” Yuma hugged her tightly. “I’d do anything for the love of my life.” Nicholas groaned softly but walked over anyway, wrapping his arms around Rocky from behind and kissing her temple. “You really never disappoint when it comes to designs.” She grinned. “I know.”
Maki and Jay studied the posters carefully, nodding in approval. “This is perfect,” Jay said. “Honestly, I think this will bring in exactly who we’re looking for.” “Yeah,” Maki added, smiling. “Thanks, both of you. This is gonna help a lot.” Jay turned to Aya. “Think you can get the ad in next week’s paper?” “Already cleared it with my boss,” Aya said easily. “You’re good.” “So the competition starts in two weeks,” Rocky said, tapping the date at the bottom of the page. Harua brightened instantly. “That’s perfect,” he said. “Willow will officially be moved in by then, so she and Sunoo can both be here for it.” Maki laughed softly. “Wow. Everything really is lining up, huh?”
~~~
A couple of days later, the pack village was pure chaos. Willow was officially moving in, and Miyu and Jay were receiving applications for the baking competition nearly every hour. Harua was a nervous wreck, pacing back and forth between the cabins, his heart racing at the reality that Willow would finally be here with him all the time, no more five-hour drives, no more distance, no more falling asleep alone. Fuma had been recruited to help haul Willow’s things into Harua’s smaller cabin, while Tara hovered nearby, insisting on helping with the lighter boxes. Every time she reached for something, Fuma would shake his head and say, “I’ve got it,” before lifting something ridiculously heavy like it weighed nothing at all. Tara tried not to look impressed, but she absolutely was, and Fuma definitely noticed, subtly straightening his posture every time he passed her.
Willow, meanwhile, was bouncing with excitement, darting around the cabin and hugging Harua at random intervals. “I still can’t believe I live here now,” she said for what had to be the fifth time, her arms around his neck. “I can’t wait to start my new job, and get to know everyone better, and just… be here.” Harua smiled so wide his cheeks hurt, holding her tightly every time she came close, still half-convinced this was all a dream he might wake up from.
Rocky was all over Sunoo, trying to teach him some simple magic that his body could actually sustain without backlash. “No, no, relax your shoulders,” she laughed, adjusting his posture, then grabbing his hands again. “You’re fighting the flow.” Sunoo groaned dramatically but tried again, only to blink in surprise when a faint shimmer sparked between his fingers. “Wait, did I do that?” he asked, eyes wide. Rocky gasped, clapping her hands. “You did! See, I told you, you’re a natural.” Nicholas, meanwhile, was sulking nearby, arms crossed, glaring every time they high-fived, hugged, or held hands to stabilize the spell. “Do you really need this much physical contact?” he muttered. Rocky shot him a grin. “Yes.” But honestly, it was kind of worth it, especially when she ran back to him afterward, throwing her arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses, proudly declaring, “Having a wizard friend is amazing.”
EJ and Sora stood off to the side, watching the chaos unfold with fond smiles. “It’s nice,” Sora murmured, leaning into him, “when everyone’s just… happy.” EJ hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Let’s hope it stays that way for a while. No more drama, no more emergencies.” Across the yard, Sana laughed as Jo and Taki tossed a basketball back and forth, Jo clearly way better but intentionally missing shots so Taki could win sometimes. “Hey, that was totally on purpose,” Taki accused. Jo grinned, shrugging. “What? Maybe I just got worse.” Nearby, Kei and Aya walked hand in hand along the path, talking quietly about the future, about the pack, about what came next, neither of them needing answers yet, just each other.
Two weeks passed quickly, and before they knew it, it was time for the first round of the bake-off. In total, seventy-five people had signed up for the competition, filling Koyomi with nervous energy, sweet smells, and the constant clatter of bowls and utensils. Since it was a Friday, Maki was stuck at school and couldn’t be there in person, but he trusted Miyu and Jay completely to make good calls. Not everyone lived up to expectations; some desserts were messy, others bland, and a few clearly lacked confidence, but there were also some truly impressive creations. By the end of the day, they narrowed it down to twenty people who would move on to the second round, chosen not just for skill, but for that extra spark of passion and personality that felt right for Koyomi.
That evening, Maki listened eagerly as Miyu and Jay talked through their choices, animatedly describing flavors, techniques, and contestants’ attitudes while handing him boxes of leftovers to taste. Some desserts made his eyes light up immediately, others were good but not really his style, and a few just weren’t his cup of tea at all, but he enjoyed trying them anyway, imagining the faces behind each dish. He found himself growing more and more excited as they spoke, already invested in people he hadn’t even met yet. By the time they were done, Maki was practically buzzing, counting down the days until Sunday, when he’d finally get to join in on the judging himself.
Saturday came between the two competitions, and for once, Koyomi was closed, officially “because of the bake-off,” but in reality, it gave Rocky the perfect chance to finally reveal what she’d been secretly working on for weeks. After lunch, she gathered all the girls together, her eyes sparkling in a way that immediately made them suspicious, and told them to follow her to her and Nicholas’s cabin. When they got there, she handed each of them a bag of their own, grinning like she was about to explode if she didn’t start talking soon.
Aya was the first to open hers. She reached inside, pulled out a bikini in her favorite color, and froze. Printed across the fabric was a delicate feather pen, subtle but unmistakable, a perfect symbol of her. “Rocky,” she breathed, staring at it like it might vanish if she blinked. “You didn’t.” She practically hugged the bikini to her chest before looking up and throwing her arms around Rocky. “This is gorgeous. I love it. I love you.” Rocky laughed, hugging her back tightly, muttering something about how Aya was easy to design for because she “basically radiated soft poet energy.”
Next was Miyu. She slid her hand into the bag and slowly pulled out her bikini, eyes widening as she took in the details. It was in her favorite color too, but what really made her stop was the pattern, phases of the moon: a full moon, a half moon, and a small crescent, laid out in a gentle sequence. “Oh…” she whispered, fingers tracing the fabric like she was afraid to crease it. “Rocky, this is,” She swallowed, blinking a little. “This is perfect.” She looked up, smiling so brightly it almost hurt, then stepped forward to hug her. “It even matches how Yuma and I met. How did you?” Rocky just winked. “I pay attention.”
Next was Sora. She reached into her bag and pulled out a swimsuit, blinking in surprise. “Oh, I thought it’d be a bikini,” she admitted, but then she actually looked at it, and her breath caught. The silhouette fit her perfectly, elegant and sharp all at once, with asymmetrical straps that crossed over one shoulder and bold cutouts along the sides. It was, of course, in her favorite color. She turned it over slowly, and that’s when she noticed the cutouts, shaped subtly like slashes from wolf claws. “Rocky…” she murmured, a smile spreading across her face. “You never fail to impress me with your talent, do you?” Rocky grinned, crossing her arms proudly. “What can I say? I like a challenge.”
Then came Sana. She pulled out her bikini and immediately froze. It was soft pink with splashes of blue, dreamy and bright, but what made her inhale sharply was the print. “No way…” she whispered. It was the exact design of the first painting Jo had ever made for her, the one inspired by her favorite fantasy book, the one she’d talked about for weeks afterward. Her eyes went glossy as she pressed the fabric to her chest. “Rocky… this is, this is that painting.” Rocky scratched the back of her neck, laughing sheepishly. “It took a lot of persuasion to get Jo to hand it over, but I eventually wore him down.” Sana laughed through her smile, shaking her head. “That sounds like Jojo. He’s always been ridiculously protective of his art.”
Next was Tara. She hesitated, fingers lingering on the edge of the bag as she watched the others gush and laugh, feeling a little out of place in comparison. The other girls were so confident, so open, and even though Rocky had promised she’d make something Tara would feel comfortable in, her nerves still buzzed under her skin. But the moment she pulled the fabric out, relief washed over her. It was a swimsuit, with much more coverage than the others, cute instead of sexy, with a small skirt-like layer at the bottom that made her shoulders loosen instantly. Her eyes widened when she noticed the print: tiny wolf pawprints trailing softly from her left shoulder down to her right hip. “Oh…” she breathed, fingers brushing over the design. She looked up at Rocky, smiling shyly. “Thank you. Really.” It was the first time she’d ever looked at something like this and not felt uncomfortable in her own skin.
Then Willow eagerly dove into her bag, pulling out the fabric with zero hesitation. “Okay, I’m ready,” she said, before freezing, and then squealing. “Oh my god!” It was a light blue bikini, delicate and soft, covered in snowflake prints that shimmered faintly in the light. The bottom had the same small skirt detail as Tara’s, making it feel both cute and elegant. Willow bounced on her toes, spinning in place. “This is the prettiest bikini I’ve ever seen,” she declared, clutching it to her chest before laughing and jumping again, the room instantly filling with her excitement.
Sana asked if Rocky had made one for herself too, and Rocky grinned, nodding. “Already wearing it,” she said casually. “You’ll see it at the pond.” The girls all giggled at that, excitement buzzing through the room as they hurried off to their own cabins to change, slipping into their new swimsuits before covering up with robes and calling out for the boys to meet them by the water. The boys, just as eager, changed into their own swimwear and followed along, laughter echoing through the paths as they headed toward the pond together.
As they walked, Fuma stayed close to Tara, asking for the third time, “You’re really sure you’re okay with this? We can go later, just the two of us, if that’s better.” Tara stopped and turned to him, smiling softly but firmly. “I’m sure,” she said, squeezing his hand. He studied her face for a moment before nodding, still not entirely convinced. “Okay,” he said, “but the second you feel even a little uncomfortable, you tell me, and we’re out of there.” Tara smiled again, warmth blooming in her chest. She thought it was sweet how much he cared, but she also wanted to show him she wasn’t as fragile as she used to be.
Nicholas kept trying to peek inside Rocky’s robe, desperate to catch even the smallest glimpse of the swimsuit she was wearing. Since he was the only one who knew what she’d been designing for the girls, his curiosity was eating him alive. Every time he leaned in or reached out, though, Rocky swatted his hands away, scolding him with a laugh. “Nope. Have some patience,” she said firmly, wagging a finger at him. Nicholas grumbled under his breath but obeyed, only half-successfully hiding how eager he was.
Harua walked beside Willow, their fingers intertwined, gently swinging their hands between them as he asked, “Are you excited to see the pond?” Willow nodded eagerly. “Yes! Everyone keeps talking about it like it’s some kind of magical place. And swimming in it when there’s snow everywhere? That sounds unreal.” She turned to the other girls, eyes bright. “Have any of you swum in it before?” Only Aya and Miyu raised their hands, explaining that they’d been there the longest, but even they had only gone once. That somehow made Willow even more excited; the thought that this was something new they were all about to experience together made her smile wider.
As they reached the pond, Willow stopped in her tracks, smiling in pure awe as steam curled up from the water into the cold air, snow and ice framing it like something straight out of a movie scene. It looked unreal, magical even. Maki was the first to shrug off his jacket, already bouncing on his toes like he might dive in at any second, and Taki followed immediately, grinning as he copied him. Kei scolded them lightly for having zero patience, but Aya just laughed, waving him off. “Let them be kids for once.”
Rocky loosened the knot of her robe and turned to the girls with a grin. “Go.” And just like that, they all slipped their robes off at once. The reactions from their mates were instant and impossible to miss, every single one different, but all intense. Nicholas actually growled, his eyes flashing gold as a slow, satisfied smirk spread across his face. Rocky’s bikini was violet with streaks of gold, a delicate violet flower wrapped in a thin golden chain across the fabric, mirroring the mark on the nape of her shoulder left by Nicholas’s bite. He crossed the distance between them in two steps, pulling her close and peppering her face with kisses. “You look way too good,” he murmured against her skin. “I don’t like that anyone else gets to see this.” Rocky just laughed, threading her fingers through his hair, clearly enjoying every second of his reaction.
Kei couldn’t stop smiling, nearly dropping to his knees the same way he had when he first met Aya, staring at her like she was a goddess, which, to him, she absolutely was. “You’re unreal,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief, and Aya laughed, reaching out to tug him closer by the hand. EJ let out a low growl of appreciation too, his eyes bright as he ran his fingers along the claw-mark design on Sora’s side, the shape almost fitting his hand perfectly. “This was made for you,” he said softly, and Sora smirked, clearly pleased with the effect it had on him. Yuma gently traced the moons across Miyu’s bikini, feeling the fabric beneath his fingertips. “You look amazing,” he said before leaning in to kiss her, Miyu smiling into it.
Jo, meanwhile, was blushing so hard his ears had practically turned red. He glanced shyly at Sana, then quickly looked away again. “Do you like it?” she asked softly. He nodded, voice quiet but sincere. “You look really pretty.” Then, after a pause, he added, “I’m glad Rocky used the painting for something good.” Rocky immediately chimed in, grinning. “Relax, Jojo, I gave it back. It’s not gone forever.” Sana laughed at that, leaning into Jo’s side, clearly glowing from both the swimsuit and his reaction.
Fuma lifted Tara straight into the air, spinning her around as she laughed and clung to his shoulders, her giggles echoing through the cold air. “You look incredible,” he said breathlessly, setting her back down but keeping his hands at her waist. “And confident. I love it.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, softer this time. “How does it feel?” “Amazing,” Tara admitted, smiling shyly but proudly. “For the first time… I’m not worried about wearing something like this.” Lastly, Harua was a complete stuttering mess. “I, you… you look,” he tried, failing miserably, his hand hovering before gently tracing one of the snowflakes along Willow’s bikini, the symbol making his heart flutter even harder. “I mean, I just, wow.” Willow giggled and leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his nose. “You’re adorable.” That finally unlocked his brain. “You look wonderful,” he said softly, eyes full of awe as he smiled at her.
Maki and Taki called out in unison, “Are you guys gonna keep kissing all day, or are you actually joining us in the pond?” Everyone burst into laughter before slowly making their way into the steaming water, the cold air biting at their skin only for it to melt away the moment they submerged. They stayed there for hours, splashing each other, talking, teasing, and drifting between conversations as steam curled into the snowy sky. At one point, Maki swam closer to Rocky, nudging her shoulder. “Hey… when I find my mate, will you design something for them too?” Rocky smiled warmly, ruffling his hair. “Of course I will. No one gets left out.” Maki grinned. “What about me? You could design something for me too, since you’re way better than Yuma.” “Hey!” Yuma splashed him hard in the face, laughing as water went everywhere. For once in their lives, in their pack, everything felt perfect, no worries, no threats, just warmth, laughter, and love.
Once they got out of the pond, all the girls except Sora immediately started shivering, the cold biting into their damp skin. Sora, being a vampire, didn’t feel the temperature the same way, but she noticed it instantly, her eyes softening as she watched the others hug themselves. The boys, on the other hand, were completely fine thanks to their werewolf heat. Rocky muttered a spell under her breath, her fingers dancing through the air as violet, shimmering smoke spiraled around them in a small, hurricane-like swirl, drying their hair and clothes while chasing away some of the chill. The boys quickly pulled their mates into their arms, sharing extra warmth before they all started making their way back toward the house and cabins.
Maki and Taki walked a little behind the others, watching the couples laugh and lean into each other, feeling a familiar ache of longing in their chests. They glanced at each other before laughing softly. “At least we have each other,” Taki said, bumping his shoulder lightly against Maki’s, “for now.” He went on, musing about how their family kept getting bigger, first Aya, then Miyu and Jay, then Sora, Sana, Rocky, and Jake for a while, then Tara, and now Willow and Sunoo. The pack was growing, mixing with all kinds of species. Maki smiled, nodding. “Yeah… but I wouldn’t change it for the world.” Taki nodded in agreement.
~~~
The night passed quickly, and Sunday arrived sooner than anyone expected. Miyu stood outside Maki’s door, knocking loudly. “Maki,” she called, then knocked again. “If you don’t wake up right now, I’m revoking your baker privileges.” From inside the room came a muffled groan. “Five more minutes,” Maki muttered, his face buried in his pillow. Miyu laughed, crossing her arms. “You’ve already had five more minutes. And another five. And another.” She leaned closer to the door. “Also, your alarm has been going off for thirty minutes. I could hear it from the kitchen.” Maki cracked one eye open. “That sounds… exaggerated.” “Jay texted me five minutes ago asking where we were,” she replied sweetly. “So unless you want the vampire to judge without us, get up.”
That did it. Maki shot upright, hair sticking out in every direction. “Okay, okay, I’m up,” he grumbled, rubbing his face. “Why is it always illegal to sleep when I actually want to?” “Because today is competition day,” Miyu said, smiling as she stepped into his room. “And you’ve been talking about this for weeks.” His expression shifted instantly, excitement replacing the grogginess. “Oh, right. The bake-off.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Okay, yeah, no, I’m awake. Fully conscious. Ready to judge baked goods and change lives.” “Mmhm,” Miyu said, unconvinced. “Go brush your teeth before you collapse again.”
A few minutes later, Maki stumbled into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging half of it in one go. “Do we have anything I can eat that doesn’t require thinking?” he asked. Miyu slid a sandwich across the counter. “Already prepared for your morning incompetence.” “Wow,” he said, offended, though he happily took it. “You make it sound like I’m useless.” “Not useless,” she corrected. “Just… not functional before noon.” He laughed through a mouthful of food. “Fair.” After finishing the sandwich in record time, he straightened up. “Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go before Jay decides to replace me with vibes.”
They headed out to the car, Maki practically jogging the last few steps. “I can’t believe we actually got seventy-five people, I mean sure we’re down to twenty,” he said, buckling his seatbelt. “but it’s insane.” “People take desserts very seriously,” Miyu replied as she started the engine. “And Koyomi has a reputation.” “Yeah,” he said softly, smiling to himself. “Lila would’ve loved this.” Miyu glanced at him, her expression softening. “She would have,” she agreed. “And she’d be proud of you for keeping the baking alive.” He shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I’m still not as good as her.” “You don’t have to be,” Miyu said gently. “You just have to care. And you do.”
By the time they pulled up to Koyomi, the place was already buzzing with energy. Inside, Jay was moving around behind the counter, clipboard in hand, looking far too organized for a Sunday morning. “Mornin’, vampire,” Maki called as he walked in, greeting him with one of those awkward half-hug, half-handshake things. “You look suspiciously prepared.” Jay smirked. “Some of us don’t rely on panic to function.” “That’s a lie,” Maki said. “You’ve seen me cook under pressure.” “And I’m still traumatized,” Jay replied dryly.
Miyu laughed as she stepped inside. “Anything left to prep?” she asked, setting her bag down. Jay shook his head. “Nope. Stations are set, ingredients are stocked, judges’ table is ready. All you have to do is sit there, eat desserts, and look important.” Maki blinked. “Wow. My dream job.” “Try not to scare the contestants,” Jay added. “Some of them already look like they’re about to cry.” “I’m very approachable,” Maki argued. Jay glanced at his messy hair and oversized hoodie. “You look like a raccoon that wandered into a bakery.” Miyu snorted. “He does.” Maki gasped. “Betrayal. On competition day.” Jay smiled faintly as he handed Maki a clipboard. “Come on, raccoon boy. Let’s go meet the future of Koyomi desserts.”
As people began walking in and finding their places, Maki felt his heart suddenly pick up in pace. It was strange, he was just standing there, leaning against the counter, clipboard in hand, watching contestants nervously adjust aprons and trays. Nothing was happening. Nothing should have been happening. And yet. His wolf stirred. At first it was subtle, like an itch under his skin, but then it grew stronger, pacing restlessly inside him like it was trapped in a cage that was suddenly too small. His shoulders tensed, his fingers curled slightly, muscles tightening without his permission.
“What the hell…” Maki muttered under his breath. Jay noticed almost immediately. “You okay?” he asked quietly, stepping closer. “You look like you’re about to bolt.” “I don’t know,” Maki whispered back. “Something feels,” The front door opened again. The bell chimed softly, and a young woman stepped inside, balancing a tray carefully in her hands. She was around his age, maybe a year or two older, hair pulled back loosely, eyes bright as she smiled at the room and took in the space like she was genuinely excited just to be there.
The moment Maki saw her, his wolf howled. It wasn’t a sound, it was a feeling, a violent, overwhelming pull that slammed into his chest and stole the air from his lungs. His vision sharpened, colors deepening, scents flooding his senses all at once. Her scent hit him next, warm, sweet, something like vanilla and citrus and home, and suddenly the room felt too small, too loud, too close. “Oh shit,” he breathed. His eyes flared gold before he could stop them. He turned away sharply, heart pounding, claws sliding out as he clenched his fists at his sides, knuckles whitening as he fought to ground himself.
Jay’s head snapped toward him. “Maki?” he whispered urgently. “What’s wrong? Are you reacting to the moon or something?” Maki shook his head quickly, breath uneven. “No, no, it’s not that, I haven’t had trouble with the moon in ten years,” He swallowed hard, voice dropping even lower. “Jay.” “What?” “Mate.” Jay froze. “…Fuck,” he whispered.
Suddenly everything made sense, the pacing wolf, the tension in his body, the way his instincts were screaming at him to go to her, to protect her, to claim her, to never let her out of his sight. Jay turned instantly to Miyu. “Hey,” he said calmly but firmly, “I need you to start the competition without us. Maki and I have to step out for a minute.” Miyu frowned. “What? Why?” “No questions,” Jay said quickly. “Please.” She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay… but hurry back.”
Jay grabbed Maki by the arm and practically dragged him toward the back door. Maki resisted on instinct, his body heavy, his wolf pushing forward, desperate to turn around and go back inside. “Easy,” Jay muttered through clenched teeth, using far more strength than he should’ve had. “You are not imprinting in the middle of a bake-off.” “I’m not trying to,” Maki growled. “My wolf is.” “Yeah, well, tell your wolf to chill,” Jay snapped, hauling him through the back door and into the alley behind Koyomi. “Because if you go back in there like this, someone’s gonna notice your eyes glowing, and then we’ve got a way bigger problem.”
Maki bent forward, hands on his knees, breathing hard. “She’s in there,” he whispered, like it physically hurt to say it. “Jay, I can feel her.” “I know,” Jay said quietly. “I know. But you need to get control first.” Jay studied him carefully. “You think you can calm down?” he asked quietly. “Like, actually control your wolf?” Maki nodded, dragging in a few deep breaths, pressing his palms against the cold brick wall behind him. “Yeah,” he said, forcing steadiness into his voice. “I’m good. I’ve got it.”
Jay hesitated, then slowly reached for the door. “Alright. Let’s try,” The moment the door cracked open and the warm scents of sugar, butter, chocolate, and her rushed out, Maki’s eyes flared gold again. A low, instinctive rumble tore from his chest before he could stop it. “Shit,” Jay slammed the door shut instantly, shoving Maki back into the alley. “Nope. Absolutely not.” “Jay,” “No,” Jay cut in, pointing at him. “Okay, wolf boy, you’re going home.” “What? No, I can’t,” Maki protested. “I have to stay, this is literally my job,” “And if you stay, you’re gonna wolf out in the middle of Koyomi,” Jay shot back. “Which, reminder, is a human restaurant full of contestants and customers.”
“I wouldn’t,” “You just growled at a door,” Jay deadpanned. “Strike one.” Maki groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I can handle it.” “No, you can’t,” Jay said flatly. “And even if you could, strike two: you’d be biased as hell.” “I wouldn’t,” “Don’t lie to me,” Jay interrupted again. “You wouldn’t even need to see her baking. Your nose would pick her up instantly and suddenly whatever dessert she made would be ‘the best one by far,’ even if it tasted like cardboard.” “That’s not,” “That is exactly how mates work,” Jay said. “You’d crown her winner even if she burned water.” Maki opened his mouth, then closed it again, scowling. “Okay, maybe,” “So,” Jay finished firmly, “you’re going home.”
“I hate this,” Maki muttered. “I just found her and now I can’t even see her.” “And that sucks,” Jay said, softer now. “But it sucks way less than exposing the supernatural or having you lose control in public.” Maki leaned back against the wall, jaw tight, clearly fighting the urge to argue again. “I could still,” “No,” Jay said immediately. Maki sighed, defeated. “Fine.” Jay still didn’t look convinced. He pulled out his phone. “Actually… I don’t trust you not to sneak back in.” “What?” “You heard me.” Jay started dialing. “I’m calling backup.”
“Jay,” “Too late.” The call connected quickly. “Fuma,” Jay said, “yeah, we’ve got a situation. Maki just found his mate and is two seconds from losing his mind in the middle of Koyomi.” He glanced sideways at the wolf. “No offense.” Maki huffed. “A little taken.” Fuma’s voice came through the phone, calm and steady. “Got it. I’m already in the car. I’ll be there in ten.” Jay exhaled in relief. “Perfect. Thanks.” He hung up and turned back to Maki. “Congratulations,” he said dryly. “You’re being escorted home by an alpha.” Maki groaned. “This is humiliating.” “Yeah,” Jay replied. “But at least you’re not humiliating the pack in front of twenty bakers.”
Once Fuma arrived, he stepped out of the car already sighing like he knew exactly what kind of chaos he was walking into. “Alright,” he said, clapping a hand on Jay’s shoulder, “thanks for calling me before this turned into a full-blown incident.”
Jay nodded, gesturing toward Maki. “He’s following his brother’s footsteps and going a little crazy.” Fuma’s brows lifted. “Ah,” he said. “That explains everything.” “Hey,” Maki muttered. Fuma turned to him, eyes soft but firm. “Come on, pup.” “I’m not a…” Before Maki could finish, Fuma grabbed the back of his jacket and started dragging him toward the car. Maki immediately resisted, digging his heels into the ground. “Fuma, wait, no, I can walk,” “You’re walking,” Fuma said calmly, “just horizontally.” “This is humiliating!” Maki protested, trying to twist out of his grip.
“Yeah, yeah,” Fuma replied, hauling him the rest of the way and opening the car door. “You should’ve seen you at 7 during your first full moon with your wolf awakened. We actually did chain you up back then.” Maki groaned loudly as he was shoved into the passenger seat. “I hate you.” “No, you don’t,” Fuma said, buckling his seatbelt for him before slamming the door shut. “You love me. Deep down.” Maki slumped in the seat, running his hands over his face. “I feel pathetic.” Fuma paused before getting into the driver’s seat, looking at him through the open door. “Hey,” he said gently, “don’t.”
Maki glanced up. “We’ve all been there,” Fuma continued. “Losing control, feeling like you’re not strong enough, not stable enough. It happens. Especially with mates.” “But I’ve been good,” Maki said quietly. “I am good. I haven’t had trouble with control since I was a kid.” “I know,” Fuma said, nodding. “After you learned how to handle full moons, you became one of the most stable wolves in the pack. Seriously. EJ brags about it.” Maki blinked. “He does?” “Yeah,” Fuma smirked. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
Maki huffed weakly, then looked out the window. “What if I never see her again?” Fuma’s smile faded, replaced by something softer, steadier. “You will.” Maki turned back to him. “You don’t know that.” “I do,” Fuma said confidently. “We always find our mates. Fate doesn’t pull that kind of trick on us.” Maki swallowed. “What if?” “She walked into Koyomi once,” Fuma interrupted gently. “She can do it again. And when she does, you’ll be calmer. You’ll handle it better.” Maki leaned his head back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling. “I hope you’re right.” “I am,” Fuma said, starting the engine. “Now sit tight before I actually start looking for chains.”
~~~
Meanwhile, at Koyomi, the bake-off was in full swing. The restaurant buzzed with nervous energy, the scent of sugar, chocolate, citrus, and warm pastry hanging thick in the air. Miyu and Jay moved from station to station, clipboards in hand, tasting forks ready, exchanging quiet murmurs after each dessert. They’d had high hopes for the twenty contestants who made it this far, but it quickly became clear that not everyone had maintained what earned them a spot in the second round. Some desserts were good, even great, but not Koyomi great. Not special. Not memorable. One by one, contestants were gently thanked and sent home, until only five remained.
Those final five were exceptional. Every plate that reached Miyu and Jay was thoughtful, balanced, and beautifully presented, flavors layered with intention rather than flash. The judges took their time now, tasting twice, sometimes three times, discussing texture, technique, creativity, but more than that, they listened. They asked questions, and the way the finalists spoke about baking became just as important as what sat on the plate. One spoke about desserts like comfort, like memories, like love baked into every layer. Another talked about precision and discipline. Another about joy, about how baking felt like breathing. In the end, it wasn’t just skill that crowned the winner, but passion, the kind that fit perfectly into Koyomi’s heart and soul.
Miyu and Jay gathered the five in front of the counter, smiling warmly despite the tension in the air. “First of all,” Miyu said, “thank you so much for being here. Every single one of you should be proud of what you made today.” Jay nodded beside her. “This was not an easy decision. At all.” Then Miyu announced the winner, congratulating them with a bright smile and a handshake, letting them know they’d officially be joining the team, starting Monday at eleven o’clock.
Jay and Miyu cleaned up Koyomi in comfortable silence, stacking plates, wiping down counters, and locking the doors before heading out to the car. As Jay drove toward the pack’s little village, he finally explained everything, how Maki’s wolf had reacted the moment his mate walked in, how he couldn’t control himself, how Jay had to physically drag him out of the restaurant before something worse happened. Miyu stared at him in shock for a few seconds before letting out a slow breath. “Oh my god… Jay,” she said softly. “I’m just glad you were there. That could’ve gone so badly.”
Jay nodded, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Yeah, but he’s probably furious with me now,” he muttered. “I basically kicked him out of his own competition.” Miyu reached over, resting her hand on his arm. “He’ll understand,” she said gently. “Maki’s not stupid. He knows you did it to protect him, and everyone else. Not to be mean.” Jay sighed, some of the tension easing from his shoulders as they pulled into the village.
But the scene waiting for them was… not calm. At all. As they parked and got out, the first thing they saw was chaos in the open clearing. Fuma, EJ, Nicholas, and Maki were all in their wolf forms, circling, snapping, shoving, and growling at each other in what looked like a half-fight, half-playful brawl, though Maki, especially, looked furious, his hackles raised and eyes blazing gold. Tara stood a few steps away, hands clasped nervously in front of her chest. “Fuma, please don’t actually bite him,” she called, clearly worried.
Meanwhile, Sora and Rocky were sitting on a nearby log like this was front-row seating to a sporting event. “Ten on Maki,” Sora said casually. “He’s pissed enough to flip someone.” Rocky snorted. “You’re insane. Fuma’s winning. He always wins. That man could wrestle a mountain.” Jay blinked. “What the hell?” Miyu cut him off, already sighing. “Yeah… that tracks.”
Yuma walked out of the house the moment he felt Miyu’s presence return, his wolf senses already picking up on her scent. He headed straight toward her and Jay, a soft smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “How did the competition go?” Miyu stared at him like he’d lost his mind, then pointed past him at the four massive wolves growling and shoving each other in the clearing. “Are you serious right now?” she asked. “That’s what’s going on?” Yuma followed her finger, watching as Maki snapped at Fuma’s neck fur while EJ shoved Nico away from him. “Oh, that,” he said casually, like this was completely normal. “Yeah, Maki’s being stupid.”
Jay blinked. “That’s… not very specific.” Yuma shrugged. “He started with Fuma, then dragged Nicholas into it by insulting Rocky,” he continued. “Then he bumped into EJ’s shoulder really hard and didn’t apologize. So now we’re here.” Miyu rubbed her face. “Why is he like this?” “No idea,” Yuma said. “But honestly, it’s better to let them sort it out.” Jay frowned. “Shouldn’t we stop it?” Yuma shook his head. “Nah. If EJ actually wanted it to end, he’d use his alpha voice and it’d be over in two seconds. Sometimes younger wolves just need to… get it out.”
They walked over to Tara, who was standing stiffly a few feet away, clearly tense as she watched Fuma dodge one of Maki’s lunges. “Tara,” Miyu said gently, touching her arm, “you don’t have to worry. They’ll be fine.” Tara nodded, biting her lip. “I know… I just don’t like seeing them fight.” Yuma gave her a reassuring smile. “It looks worse than it is. Mostly.” They then moved to join Sora and Rocky, who were still watching like it was entertainment. Miyu crossed her arms, glancing between the wolves. “Okay,” she said, “what exactly did Maki say to insult Rocky?” Rocky burst out laughing. “He called my hair annoying,” she said. Miyu stared. “That’s it?” “Yeah,” Rocky shrugged. “I accidentally flicked him in the face with it.” From across the clearing, Nicholas let out a particularly vicious growl as Maki stumbled backward. Rocky pointed at him. “And that,” she added, grinning, “was apparently unacceptable.”
The wolves kept fighting, teeth snapping and bodies slamming together, until eventually EJ and Nicholas stepped out, shaking out their fur and backing away, leaving only Fuma and Maki circling each other in the clearing. Everyone knew why, Fuma had raised Maki more than anyone else, had been there for every rough full moon, every mistake, every lesson about control. If anyone could handle him, it was Fuma.
Fuma’s wolf let out a deep, thunderous growl, baring his fangs in warning. Maki mirrored it immediately, hackles raised, eyes blazing gold, before the two of them collided again, claws digging into snow and dirt as they grappled. For a while it looked evenly matched, strength against stubborn fury, but eventually Fuma used his weight and experience, slamming Maki to the ground and pinning him there. A low, dominant growl rumbled from his chest, his eyes flashing red for a split second before fading back into their usual amber-orange.
Maki turned his head to the side, exposing his neck, submission, surrender, done fighting. Through the mindlink, Fuma told him to go inside and cool off in the shower. Maki didn’t argue this time, just pushed himself up and ran behind the house. Fuma shifted behind the shed a moment later, returning in human form wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, steam practically rising from his skin from how warm he still was.
Several of the girls shivered at the sight, from the cold air, and Tara immediately walked over to him, hands gently checking his arms and neck. “Are you hurt?” she asked quietly, worry written all over her face. Fuma smiled when she found nothing, brushing a thumb over her knuckles. “I’m fine,” he said softly. “Promise.”
~~~
A while later, Maki came back downstairs, finding most of the pack gathered around the dining table. Sunoo was there too now, sitting between Rocky and Willow, deep in conversation about something animated enough that Rocky was gesturing wildly with her hands. Maki hovered near the doorway for a second, shoulders tense, gaze low. He looked… shy. Maybe ashamed. He felt stupid for how he’d acted, for letting his wolf take over like that. After a deep breath, he stepped forward.
“Rocky,” he said first, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m sorry for insulting your hair.” Rocky blinked, then laughed, waving a hand. “Please, I didn’t take it to heart,” she said easily, before tilting her head toward Nicholas. “Even if someone else did.” Nico huffed from his seat, arms crossed. “It was rude,” he muttered, earning another laugh from Rocky. Maki turned next to EJ. “And… I’m sorry for bumping into you. And acting like a child.” EJ nodded, calm as ever. “Apology accepted.” Then Maki faced Fuma, and this one was harder. His jaw tightened slightly before he said, “I’m sorry for being a pain. And for starting a fight.” Fuma stood up immediately, pulling another chair from the side of the room and placing it next to his own. He patted the seat. “Come on. Sit.” Maki obeyed, sinking into it. Fuma nudged his shoulder lightly with his own. “I get it,” he said quietly. “But that doesn’t mean you get to act however you want.” “I know,” Maki murmured, nodding.
After a moment, he looked toward Miyu and Jay. “So… how did things go at Koyomi?” Miyu smiled, relief softening her expression. “They went really well. We found the person who’ll be handling desserts for the restaurant.” Jay continued, “You’re actually going to be very happy with the result,” and Maki looked up instantly, eyes wide. “What do you mean?” he asked. Jay smiled slightly. “The person we chose… is your mate.” Maki froze. “What?” “And before you spiral,” Jay cut in quickly, holding up a hand, “her being your mate had nothing to do with the decision. Miyu didn’t even know until afterward. She just had, by far, the best desserts and the strongest passion for baking. It was an easy choice.”
Maki’s mouth opened, then closed, his heart pounding. “She… works at Koyomi now?” “Starting tomorrow,” Miyu said gently. “Which means you need to pull yourself together, because you absolutely cannot go all wolfie at work.” Kei crossed his arms. “Is that really a good idea?” he asked. “Having him that close to his mate when he’s this unstable?” “I’ll be fine,” Maki said quickly. “I already felt the first hit of her scent. Now I can prepare for it. I can control it.” “Yeah,” Taki snorted, “prepared to burn the place down.” Maki shot him a glare. “Shut up.”
Nicholas leaned back in his chair. “I’m actually with Kei on this one. You didn’t exactly scream stable earlier.” EJ sighed. “Honestly, I thought you’d be more like Jo. Calm. Collected. Not… utterly stupid.” Harua snickered. “Oh, like you were?” EJ rolled his eyes. “Okay, rude, but also fair.” Yuma cleared his throat. “I can take some time off and be at Koyomi tomorrow, just in case anything happens.” EJ considered it for a moment before nodding slowly. “It’s not a bad idea to have someone there. But no offense, Yuma, it’s unlikely you’d be able to stop Maki if it actually came down to it.” Yuma gasped softly. “Excuse you, I took on a rougaru on my own.” Fuma gave him a pointed look. “And how did that turn out?” Yuma rubbed the back of his neck. “…Right. Not great.”
“I could stay until five,” Kei said. “But I can’t cover the whole night.” Tara leaned closer to Fuma, her voice soft. “Maybe you should be there?” Fuma wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “But we were supposed to have date night.” Tara smiled. “It’s fine. I can come too. We can still have a date night, just with some babysitting included.” “Hey,” Maki protested, “I’m not a baby.” Sora laughed. “You’re always going to be a baby to them.” Willow burst out laughing. “Honestly, it’s surprising Maki’s the youngest when my Harua looks like the baby.” “Hey!” Harua said immediately. “I’m cool and handsome, not a baby.” “Sure,” Willow replied, rolling her eyes teasingly.
Fuma brought the conversation back on track. “I get off work at four tomorrow, so I can be there from five,” he said, glancing at Kei. “I’ll take over then.” Jay nodded. “I’ll be there the whole time too. Extra eyes can’t hurt.” Maki grimaced. “Wow. Love the trust.” “You lost that today,” Nicholas muttered, though there was no real bite behind it. Maki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah. Fair.” Then he looked around the table. “Can we… maybe, possibly… talk about literally anything else now?” Sana perked up immediately. “Actually, yes. I have a project for uni,” she said, turning to Aya and Harua. “I’m supposed to write a short story, or well, short and short, haha, but it has to be around twenty thousand words, and I have no idea where to start.” Aya’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I love long-form stuff. I’ll help you.” Harua nodded enthusiastically. “Same. We can brainstorm together.”
Jo shifted in his seat. “I’m working on a project too,” he said quietly. “I have to make a story painting, like a series of smaller paintings that tell one story. I’m doing a Red Riding Hood-inspired one.” Willow tilted her head. “Is that because… You know, wolves?” Jo shook his head quickly. “No. I picked it because it was Sana’s favorite story when she was a kid.” Sana’s eyes softened instantly. “Jo…”
Sora turned to Taki. “How’s uni going? Any more trouble lately?” Taki shook his head. “Not really. It’s actually gotten a lot better since Jo came running in last time. I mean, we all know he’s harmless, but… he doesn’t exactly look harmless to other people.” Jo blinked. “I don’t?” “Not when you’re mad,” Taki said with a grin. “So I think the bullies decided they don’t want to deal with you again. They’ve backed off. For now, at least.” Nicholas laughed. “Good job protecting your brother, Jo.” Jo instantly turned red, ducking his head and half-hiding in Sana’s shoulder. “Stop,” Rocky swatted Nico lightly on the arm. “Leave the poor boy alone.”
Miyu shifted her attention to Maki. “What about you? How’s school?” Maki shrugged. “I can’t wait to be done in a few months. I’ve already been in school way too long.” He shot a pointed look at EJ. EJ immediately raised his hands. “Hey, not my fault! Fuma told me the wrong age, okay? So I accidentally registered him in the wrong year.” “And that’s how I took first grade twice,” Maki deadpanned. The table burst into laughter. “Classic Fuma,” Aya said, shaking her head. Harua snorted. “He still forgets my birthday.” Fuma frowned from across the room. “That was one time.” “No,” Nicholas said. “That was several times.” Fuma groaned while everyone laughed even harder.
Miyu stood up and walked over to him. “Come on,” she said gently, tugging at his sleeve. “Let’s make dinner.” Maki squinted at her. “Am I even still trusted in the kitchen?” he asked, sulky. She nudged his shoulder with her elbow. “I didn’t offer you a job at my restaurant for nothing. Now stop acting like a child and come on.” He grumbled something under his breath but stood up anyway, following her into the kitchen. Once inside, Miyu leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms as she looked at him. “I know it feels weird right now,” she said softly, “but you have to understand why they’re reacting the way they are. They’re not trying to punish you. They’re doing this because they love you.”
Maki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know that. I do. I just… can’t help feeling upset anyway.” “That’s okay,” Miyu replied immediately. “Two things can be true at the same time.” She smiled at him, bumping her hip lightly against his. “But you’ve gotta shake off the disappointment and show your best side. How else are you supposed to make your mate fall for you?” Maki froze. “…Wow,” he muttered. “No pressure or anything.”
“Now come on,” Miyu said, clapping her hands together. “Show me what you’ve got. What are we cooking? Make it impressive.” Maki pretended to think deeply, tapping his chin before suddenly turning serious. “Alright. You asked for it.” He moved around the kitchen, pulling ingredients from the fridge and cabinets, the familiar rhythm of cooking easing something tight in his chest. Miyu leaned against the counter, watching him with a small smile. “I see garlic, herbs, and, are you planning on seducing someone with this meal?” “Obviously,” Maki replied dryly. “It’s my specialty.” She laughed, and for the first time that day, he felt like himself again. The kitchen slowly filled with warmth, steam, and the smell of something rich and comforting, and before they knew it, the night passed in easy conversation and shared laughter.
Eventually, everyone drifted off to bed, only to wake far too soon to Monday morning and the usual rush of work, school, university, and everything in between. Aya stood by the door as Kei grabbed his jacket, kissing him softly. “Good luck with Maki today,” she said with a teasing smile. Kei laughed. “I never thought he’d be the problem child.” “He’s not a problem child,” Aya replied, brushing her thumb along his jaw. “He’s just a wolf. Just like you. And honestly, most of you boys have pretty tainted records when it comes to meeting your mates.” Kei winced. “Okay, fair.” He leaned in to kiss her again, but before he could say anything else, Harua burst out the door. “Sorry, I’m late!” he called over his shoulder. Willow ran after him, pulling on her jacket. “Bye everyone!” she shouted, already half out the door, excitement in her voice as she rushed off for her first day at the veterinary clinic.
As Rocky and Nicholas stepped outside, Rocky stretched her arms above her head and laughed. “We seriously need a better morning system. Every day here feels like controlled chaos.” Nicholas smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Controlled is generous.” Fuma and Tara followed soon after, and Fuma raised his voice toward the house. “Jo, Sana, Taki! If you’re not out here in thirty seconds, I’m leaving without you!” “Rude!” Sana’s voice echoed from inside, followed by hurried footsteps.
Yuma stumbled out behind Rocky and Nicholas, yawning wide enough to show fangs. “I’m not built for mornings,” he muttered. “I need at least three more hours of sleep before I can function.” Nicholas nodded seriously. “Same. Whoever invented mornings was an enemy to supernatural beings.” Just then, Sana, Jo, and Taki burst out of the main house, backpacks half-zipped and shoes barely tied. “We’re ready!” Taki called, nearly tripping on the last step as he jumped into the backseat. Fuma shook his head, laughing, before turning to Tara and pulling her into a quick kiss. “I’ll be back after work to pick you up before we head to Koyomi.” “I’ll be here,” Tara said softly, hugging him once more before stepping back.
One by one, engines started, cars pulling away down the road, until the village grew quiet again, leaving only EJ, Sora, Kei, Miyu, Tara, and Maki in the house. A few moments later, Miyu came down the stairs, arms crossed, already exasperated. “Okay, either EJ or Kei needs to help me wake Maki up. He’s impossible today.” EJ laughed from the couch, where he’d been sitting with Sora. “Say no more.” He stood, cracking his neck. “I’ll handle it.”
After EJ finally managed to drag Maki out of bed, Miyu clapped her hands together. “Alright, we should head to Koyomi early and meet Jay. I want all of us there when the new employee arrives; she’s met me and Jay, but not Maki yet.” Tara smiled from the doorway. “Good luck,” she teased. Miyu laughed, leaning in to hug her. “Thanks. See you later.” She waved at EJ and Sora before turning toward the door. “Come on, boys.” Kei grabbed the keys. “I’ll drive.” Maki groaned softly but followed anyway, still half-asleep as they piled into the car. The ride was quiet, the kind that only existed before caffeine and breakfast, but Maki’s foot kept tapping nervously against the floor, even if he didn’t quite know why yet.
~~~
When they reached Koyomi, Jay was just pulling into the parking lot, keys already in hand as he jogged up to the door. “Perfect timing,” he said, unlocking it. “We’ve got about thirty minutes before (Y/n) arrives.” Maki blinked. “(Y/n)?” Jay glanced over his shoulder with a grin. “Yeah. Your mate.” Maki froze. Jay laughed. “Her name’s (Y/n).” Maki repeated it softly under his breath, testing how it felt on his tongue. “…Pretty,” he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Kei leaned against the counter, glancing between Jay and Miyu. “So, what can I help with today? I’m here until five, might as well be useful.” Jay smiled. “If you’re up for it, you can help with serving. Monday lunches get pretty wild around here.” “Perfect,” Kei said, rolling up his sleeves. “Point me where you need me.” Maki moved into the kitchen, grabbed a crate of vegetables, and set them on the counter, trying to focus on the familiar rhythm of prep work. Kei followed him in, leaning against the doorway. “You okay?” Maki huffed out a breath. “Nervous.” Kei smiled softly. “You’ll be fine. Just remember to breathe.”
Right then, there was a knock on the door. “I’ve got it,” Miyu called, already heading over. The moment the door opened, Maki’s wolf stirred, pacing hard in his chest, his senses sharpening all at once. He heard her voice before he fully saw her. “Hi,” she said warmly. “I’m here for my first day.” Miyu beamed. “(Y/n)! Come in, come in.” Jay greeted her next, shaking her hand, and then Kei turned toward the kitchen, lifting his chin at Maki. “Hey, come out here.”
Maki swallowed, clenching one hand into a fist at his side to keep control, then stepped forward. His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure everyone could hear it. She turned toward him, smiling, and for a second, his brain just… stopped working. She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m (Y/n). Nice to meet you.” He took it gently, careful not to grip too hard, her warmth sending a jolt straight through him. “Maki,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt. “Uh, nice to meet you too.”
(Y/n) glanced between the three of them, eyebrows lifting. “Wait… is there a fourth owner I didn’t know about? I’m pretty sure the sign only has three names on it.” Miyu laughed first, Jay quickly joining in, and Kei stepped forward, offering his hand. “Koga Yudai, but you can call me Kei. I’m not an owner,” he said, smiling, “just Maki’s big brother. I’m here to help out today.” “Oh,” (Y/n) said brightly, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you!” Maki almost growled. He covered it with a cough instead, turning his head sharply. “Uh, sorry. Might be coming down with something.” Miyu shot him a pointed look. “You'd better get it under control,” she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. “Totally fine,” he said quickly, straightening. “Super fine. Healthy. Thriving.”
Jay snorted, and Miyu shook her head before turning back to (Y/n). “Come on, let’s show you around.” They walked her through the restaurant first, Miyu gesturing to the dining area. “Lunch rush usually hits around noon, sometimes earlier if the office crowd’s restless.” Jay opened a door toward the back. “Storage is here. Dry goods on the left, refrigerated on the right. Deliveries come Mondays and Thursdays, Maki usually handles checking inventory.” “Oh?” (Y/n) said, glancing back at him. “So you’re the organized one.” Maki shrugged, a little shy. “Someone has to keep Jay from ordering twenty kilos of chocolate at once.” Jay scoffed. “It was on sale.”
They moved into the kitchen next, Miyu explaining where everything was kept, pointing out ovens, mixers, prep stations. “You’ll mostly be on desserts, but we all rotate and help out with everything if it’s needed. If you ever need help, just yell.” “Literally,” Kei added. “This place gets loud.” (Y/n) laughed. “Good to know.”
As they started pulling out ingredients and setting up stations, the kitchen slowly filled with motion and warmth, the kind that came from shared work and easy conversation. Maki stayed close without hovering, handing her bowls and utensils when she needed them, trying very hard to act normal while his heart raced every time she smiled at him.
(Y/n) glanced up from where she was washing her hands, curiosity lighting her eyes. “So… how did you three end up opening a restaurant together anyway?” Miyu and Jay exchanged a look, both smiling, though there was a faint ache behind it. “Well,” Miyu began, leaning against the counter, “Jay and I opened Koyomi before we ever met Maki.” “Way before,” Jay added with a nod. “Just the two of us, barely sleeping, burning half our first attempts at everything.”
Miyu laughed softly. “Then I started dating one of Maki’s brothers, and through that, I got to know him. One day, he cooked for the, uh, family, and I remember thinking, why is this teenager better than half the chefs I know?” Maki scoffed lightly, cheeks warming. “That’s exaggerated.” “It’s really not,” Jay said. “So we offered him a job. He started helping out in the kitchen, and somehow… that turned into this.” He gestured around the restaurant. “Now he’s one of the owners.” Maki shrugged, a little bashful. “Guess I just never left.”
Jay hesitated, his smile softening. “We also… had another employee. Our baker. She had to quit, unfortunately, which is why we were looking for someone new.” (Y/n) nodded, understanding. She smiled brightly, “It kind of sounds like something out of a fairy tale. Strangers meeting, finding each other, building something together.” Miyu laughed. “A very chaotic fairy tale.” “Yeah,” Jay added, grinning. “With more burns.” Maki smiled to himself, glancing at (Y/n). “Best kind, though.”
~~~
The hours passed surprisingly peacefully. Kei kept a close eye on Maki, subtle but constant, and while he did see him stiffen from time to time, his wolf scent spiking in short bursts, Maki managed to rein it in every single time. It always seemed worse whenever (Y/n) came closer to him, leaned over his shoulder to ask where something was, or brushed past him in the kitchen, but even then, he stayed grounded, breathing through it instead of losing control. At least he wasn’t fully wolfing out, and that alone felt like a small miracle.
Eventually, the clock crept closer to five, and right on cue, Fuma arrived with Tara, ready to take over from Kei. Fuma leaned against the counter, looking around the busy kitchen. “So?” he asked quietly. “How’s it going?” Kei smiled, relieved. “Honestly? Really well. He’s acting like the Maki we know again, not the feral gremlin from yesterday.” Maki shot him a glare. “Hey.” Fuma laughed softly. “Good. I’m glad.” Then he turned to Kei, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Good luck with your photoshoot tonight. Evening shoot, right?” “Yeah,” Kei said, sighing. “Special one, too. I’ll need it.” “Don’t mess it up,” Maki added dryly. Kei grinned. “Says the guy who almost burned the restaurant down with his emotions yesterday.”
As Kei left, (Y/n) came back into the kitchen from the back, tilting her head slightly when she noticed two unfamiliar people standing there. “Um,” she said, glancing between them and Maki, “do you often have guests in the kitchen area?” Maki chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not usually,” he said, pointing first to Fuma. “This is my brother, Fuma.” Then he gestured to the woman beside him. “And that’s Tara, his girlfriend. They’re here for date night, but wanted to stop by and say hi.” Fuma laughed lightly. “Yeah, we kind of invade this place a lot. There are a lot of us, and we’re all close with Miyu and Jay, too. Comes with the territory.” (Y/n) smiled and walked over, offering her hand first to Tara, then to Fuma. “I’m (Y/n), it’s nice to meet you both.” “Nice to meet you too,” Tara said warmly, squeezing her hand.
Fuma grinned, shaking her hand firmly before turning to Maki with mock seriousness. “I hope this one’s treating you well,” he said, nodding toward his brother. “And making you feel welcome.” Then he looked back at (Y/n). “If he’s not, you’re welcome to come complain to me.” Maki spluttered. “Hey!” (Y/n) laughed. “Good to know I have backup.”
Tara smiled brightly. “I’m really looking forward to trying your desserts,” she said, her eyes lighting up. (Y/n)’s smile widened at that. “I hope I live up to the expectations,” she replied, half nervous, half excited. Fuma sent a quick mind link to Maki, We’ll be out at a table, just let me know if you need help, before he slipped an arm around Tara’s waist and followed Jay out of the kitchen toward their seats.
(Y/n) turned back to Maki, curiosity written all over her face. “So… just how many brothers do you actually have? I’ve met Kei, Fuma, and then there’s the one Miyu’s dating, but I’m guessing there’s more.” Maki laughed softly. “There are nine of us total, me included,” he said. “And seven of us have girlfriends now. Plus Jay and Sunoo, who are basically family too.” (Y/n)’s eyes widened. “Wow… you’re like a whole army.” “Yeah,” Maki said with a grin, “you could definitely say that.”
A while passed in comfortable silence. Maki focused on tending to a few of the savory dishes while Miyu worked on others, and (Y/n) was baking like a madwoman, whisking one batter after another, opening and closing the ovens, decorating pastries with quick, practiced hands. Jay glanced around the dining room, surprised at how full the restaurant was for a Monday evening. Lunches were usually busy, sure, but nights rarely were. People must’ve been curious about the new baker.
When Miyu stepped away for a moment, and Jay got busy seating more guests, (Y/n)’s attention drifted to Maki. He stood at the counter reading through a recipe, scribbling small notes in the margins, brow furrowed in concentration. He was undeniably handsome, attractive, well-built, completely her type, and she found herself wondering if he was one of the two single brothers or if he already had a girlfriend. But the thought of asking him directly made her stomach twist, so she kept quiet, stealing glances instead as she worked.
Hours passed, and soon enough, the restaurant closed. The last customers trickled out, chairs were flipped onto tables, and the warm hum of the kitchen slowly faded into a comfortable quiet. Miyu leaned against the counter for a moment, stretching her arms, before her eyes drifted to Maki. He was still standing by the sink, scrubbing a pan a little slower than usual, shoulders slumped, eyes heavy.
She frowned slightly. “You okay?” she asked, drying her hands on a towel. “You look wiped.” “I’m fine,” Maki said automatically, though he rubbed at his face as if trying to wake himself up. “Just… tired in my head.” Miyu tilted her head. “You’ve been here all day. You usually only work full shifts on weekends, and even then, we open later. This is basically torture for a teenager.” “I’ll survive,” he muttered. “Promise.” She crossed her arms, unimpressed. “And you’ll survive school tomorrow too?” “I’ll be fine, mom,” he teased, shooting her a tired grin. Miyu laughed and lightly smacked his shoulder with the towel. “Stop it.”
At that moment, the kitchen door swung open, and Fuma and Tara stepped inside, both still bundled in their coats, faces warm and happy from dinner. Tara was the first to speak. “That was incredible,” she said brightly. “Seriously, everything tasted amazing.” “Yeah,” Fuma added, nodding. “You guys never disappoint.” (Y/n), who had been carefully boxing up leftover pastries, looked up, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, thank you,” she said quickly, a little shy but clearly pleased. “I’m really glad you liked the desserts. I was nervous about today.” Tara smiled wider. “Nervous? You shouldn’t be. That chocolate tart was dangerous.” (Y/n) laughed softly. “That’s the goal.”
Fuma leaned his elbows on the counter, looking between Miyu and Maki. “So, what can we do to help before we head out? Dishes, trash, sweeping, whatever.” Miyu didn’t hesitate. She pointed straight at Maki. “You can help by taking him home before he collapses into the sink.” Maki opened his mouth. “Hey, I’m not that tired,” but his sentence was cut off by a massive yawn, his jaw stretching wide as his shoulders sagged. Fuma blinked. “…Sure you’re not.” Tara giggled, stepping closer to Maki. “Wow, that was convincing.” “I’m fine,” Maki insisted weakly, blinking a few times as if trying to reset himself. “I just… didn’t sleep great.” Miyu raised an eyebrow. “You also worked for eleven hours.”
“And cooked through three rushes,” Jay added from the other side of the kitchen, where he was wiping down the prep table. “Go home, chef.” (Y/n) glanced at Maki, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, you’ve been carrying this kitchen today. You deserve rest.” That made Maki’s ears warm slightly. “I’m really okay,” “You’re not,” Fuma said calmly, already stepping behind him and gently steering him away from the sink. “Come on. Doctor’s orders.” “You’re not a doctor,” Maki muttered. “No, but I’m your brother,” Fuma shot back, smirking. “Which is worse.”
Tara slipped her arm around Maki’s other side. “We’ll walk you home. You look like you might fall asleep standing up.” “I wouldn’t,” Maki tried again, only to yawn for the second time in under a minute. Miyu pointed at him triumphantly. “Exhibit B.” (Y/n) laughed quietly, watching the interaction with fond amusement. “Thanks again for coming in,” she said to Tara and Fuma. “And… for liking the desserts.” “Of course,” Tara said warmly. “We’re excited you’re here.” Fuma nodded. “Yeah. Anyone who feeds our family this well is automatically appreciated.” Maki looked down at the floor, embarrassed but smiling faintly. “Can we go now before you all keep roasting me?” “Yes,” Fuma said, already guiding him toward the door. “Sleep first, dignity later.” Tara waved back at Miyu, Jay, and (Y/n). “Good night!” As the door closed behind them, (Y/n) glanced at Miyu with a grin. “He really does work himself into the ground, doesn’t he?” Miyu smiled softly. “Yeah. But that’s Maki.”
~~~
Soon enough, a few days had passed, and life began to settle into something softer, warmer, almost effortless. Maki was no longer under strict observation, having proven more than once that he could control himself around (Y/n) without his wolf losing its mind. The tension that had once coiled tight in his chest slowly unraveled, replaced with something lighter, anticipation, maybe, or hope.
Willow, on the other hand, seemed to be walking on clouds, talking nonstop about her new job at the veterinary clinic, the coworkers she was already growing attached to, and every animal she’d met, from skittish rescue dogs to grumpy old cats and even the occasional injured hawk. “And then there was this baby raccoon,” Willow said one evening, hands clasped dramatically. “Harua, it tried to bite me, but it was, like, this big.” Harua smiled like she’d just told him the greatest story in the world. “You’re literally saving lives,” he said softly. “That raccoon is lucky you exist.” She laughed, nudging his shoulder. “You’re biased.”
Maki was much the same, though far less smooth about it. He found himself sitting around the pack house, talking about (Y/n) at every opportunity. “She asked me to grab flour off the top shelf today,” he muttered one afternoon, staring into space. “And then she said, ‘Thanks, handsome.’ Just, casually. Like that’s normal.” Sana covered her mouth, giggling. “Maki, you’re hopeless.” “I almost dropped the bowl,” he admitted. “I panicked.”
Miyu smiled, leaning against the counter. “Then tell her she looks pretty. It’s not that hard.” “I’ll pass out,” he said flatly. Rocky rolled her eyes. “You’re a wolf, not a Victorian poet. You’ll survive.” Sora smirked. “He won’t. I give him three compliments before his system shuts down.” Willow added, laughing, “Honestly, it’s kind of adorable.” Aya and Tara mostly just listened, smiling softly. After a while, Tara spoke up gently, “You know, you don’t have to impress her. Just… be you.” Aya nodded. “Yeah. If she’s your mate, that’s already enough.” Maki exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know,” he muttered, then added quietly, “I just really want her to like me.”
Maki did his absolute best to impress (Y/n), offering his help at every possible moment, whether she needed someone to grab something from a high shelf, carry a heavy tray, or reach into the back freezer where it was always freezing. When a delivery came in with massive rice bags, he lifted two at once like it was nothing, flexing a little too obviously as he carried them past her. He pretended not to notice the way her eyes lingered, but inside, his wolf purred smugly. “You know,” Jay muttered once, watching him, “normal people use carts.” Maki shrugged. “Where’s the fun in that?”
He even started doing little knife tricks while chopping vegetables, flipping the blade between his fingers and catching it effortlessly, despite Miyu scolding him every single time. “Maki,” she warned, arms crossed, “you are not in a cooking anime.” He grinned. “Relax, I’ve got great hand-eye coordination.” (Y/n) laughed from across the counter, and suddenly the scolding felt worth it. (Y/n), for her part, definitely noticed the special treatment. Maki helped Miyu and Jay when asked, sure, but with her, he was always already there, hovering nearby, asking, “Need help?” before she even had time to struggle. It didn’t take long for her to start teasing him about it.
“Maki,” she said one afternoon, dramatically staring at a box of sugar. “I don’t think I can lift this. It’s… very heavy.” He was at her side in half a second. “I got it,” he said seriously, picking it up like it weighed nothing. She hid her smile behind her hand. “Wow. My hero.” Truth was, she absolutely could’ve lifted it herself, but the way his face lit up whenever he helped her made it worth pretending to be a damsel in distress every now and then. And Maki, completely oblivious to her little act, just felt proud that he could be useful, strong, and, hopefully, impressive in her eyes.
~~~
One Saturday, a few weeks into (Y/n) working at Koyomi, it was just her and Maki in the kitchen, with about an hour left before opening. Jay had the day off, and Miyu was out with Yuma on a date but would be back later. The kitchen was quiet in a way it rarely was during operating hours, filled only with the soft hum of ovens and the gentle bubbling of sauces. Maki was prepping dishes that needed time to simmer, chopping vegetables and stirring pots, while (Y/n) had the ovens working overtime, rotating trays of pastries, cakes, and cookies like a well-oiled machine.
Even though she’d been working there for weeks, Maki realized he didn’t actually know much about her beyond the fact that she was cute, talented, and made desserts that haunted his dreams in the best way. He’d been too busy trying to impress her to actually… talk to her. So, while stirring a pot of sauce, he finally worked up the courage.
“So,” he said casually, as if his heart wasn’t beating way too fast, “what got you into baking?” She glanced over at him, smiling softly. “Honestly? It’s not that interesting.” “Try me,” he said, leaning against the counter. “Well,” she started, checking one of the ovens before continuing, “I always loved desserts as a kid. Like, loved-loved them. Cakes, cookies, pastries… anything sweet. I was always curious about how they were made, so I started experimenting on my own.” She laughed quietly. “Most of it was completely inedible.”
Maki grinned. “I find that hard to believe.” “Oh, trust me,” she said, shaking her head. “I once made brownies so dry my grandma said they could double as coasters.” He snorted before he could stop himself, and she smiled wider at the sound. “But then,” she continued, “for my birthday one year, my grandma gifted me a semester in a baking class. And suddenly everything just… clicked. I learned the science behind it, the techniques, and how small things change everything. I loved it even more than before.” She paused for a moment, her hands slowing as she piped frosting onto a tray of cupcakes. “I didn’t really have a lot of friends growing up. Got bullied a bit. But I didn’t mind that much. Baking kind of became my thing. My first true love, I guess.”
Maki felt something warm settle in his chest as he watched her. “That’s… actually really cool,” he said quietly. “Your grandma sounds amazing.” “She was,” (Y/n) said with a fond smile. He nodded, stirring his sauce again, but now with a soft grin on his face. “I’m glad you found something that made you happy,” he said. “Selfishly, I’m also glad it led you here.” Her cheeks tinted slightly pink at that, and she pretended to focus very hard on arranging pastries on a tray. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Me too.”
(Y/n) leaned against the counter, watching him stir his pot with practiced ease. “Okay,” she said, tilting her head slightly, “your turn. What got you into cooking?” Maki hesitated for just a second before answering. “My mom,” he said quietly. “She taught me a bit before she passed away. I was really young, like… four, maybe. So I didn’t learn that much, not properly. But cooking always reminded me of her. The warmth, the smells, the way the kitchen felt safe.” He smiled faintly, almost to himself. “Sometimes I swear I can still hear her voice in my head. ‘Riki, stir it well for me.’”
(Y/n)’s expression softened instantly. “That’s… really sweet,” she said gently. He shrugged a little, embarrassed by the attention. “Out of my brothers, I was always the best cook, so I ended up making food a lot before I met Miyu. But honestly, she’s the one who really helped me level up. She taught me techniques, flavors, balance, stuff I never would’ve figured out on my own.” “What happened to your mom?” (Y/n) asked softly, then glanced up at him. “And your dad?” Maki’s smile faded just a bit. “I’ll tell you another time,” he said, not unkindly, just honest. She nodded immediately. “Yeah, okay,” she said. “No pressure.”
The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence again, filled with the sounds of simmering sauces and the soft clink of utensils, but something about it felt warmer than before. (Y/n)’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait, did you just say Riki?” she asked, looking at him like she’d misheard. “I thought your name was Maki.” Maki burst out laughing. “It is, well, kind of. My actual name is Riki,” he admitted. “But I have another brother named Riki, too, so that got confusing fast. So now we’re Taki and Maki. We both kept the ki, and the Ta and Ma come from our surnames.” “That’s… honestly kind of genius,” (Y/n) laughed. “And very chaotic.” He grinned. “That’s our family in a nutshell.”
She tilted her head. “Wait, so… you’re not biological brothers?” Maki shook his head. “Nope. None of us is related by blood. We all found each other over the years through different situations. Different hardships.” His voice softened. “We’re all orphans, technically. But together, we’re a family.” (Y/n)’s smile turned warm, almost fond. “That’s really sweet,” she said. “Having that many people to call family.” “Yeah,” Maki said quietly, smiling back at her. “It really is.”
Maki tilted his head slightly, watching her work at the counter. “So… do you like cooking too?” he asked. “Or is baking your whole thing?” (Y/n) laughed immediately, shaking her head. “Oh, no. I’m a disaster in the kitchen when it comes to savory food. Baking? Great. Cooking? Absolutely not.” Maki snorted. “It can’t be that bad.” “It is,” she insisted, pointing a whisk at him. “I once burned pasta. Like, lots of water, some noodles, and somehow still burned it.” “That’s… impressive,” he said, clearly amused. Then he grabbed a knife and set a carrot and a tomato on the cutting board. “Alright, chef. Show me what you’ve got.” She eyed the knife suspiciously. “If I lose a finger, you’re carrying me to the hospital.” “I’ll catch you before you bleed out,” he teased.
Rolling her eyes, she took the knife from him and stepped up to the counter, staring down at the vegetables like they’d personally offended her. Maki noticed the way she hesitated, shoulders tense as she stared down at the carrot like it might attack her first. Without really thinking, he stepped closer, close enough that his chest brushed her back, his arms coming around her carefully, not quite a hug, but close enough that she could feel his warmth. His hands settled gently over hers, guiding the knife, slow and steady, showing her the motion.
“Like this,” he murmured softly, leaning in just enough that his voice brushed her ear. “You’re doing well.” Thanks to his heightened hearing, he caught the way her heartbeat sped up, quick and uneven, and he saw the blush bloom across her cheeks. His own lips curved into a smile so wide it bordered on embarrassing, something between cheesy and completely lovesick, and he was almost grateful she couldn’t see his face as he focused on helping her cut the carrot, pretending that her being this close didn’t make his entire world feel warmer.
As he stepped away, (Y/n) lifted a hand to her cheek, patting it lightly as if she could somehow brush away the blush burning there. She muttered, almost under her breath, “Your girlfriend won’t like that…”
Maki blinked. “Girlfriend?” he repeated, genuinely confused. She nodded, still not looking at him. “Yeah… didn’t you say seven of you were in relationships?” “Well, yeah,” he said slowly, lips twitching, “but I never said I was one of them.” Her ears burned even hotter at that. “Oh,” she murmured, clearly realizing she’d made an assumption. “Really…” “Mhm,” Maki replied, smiling, a little too pleased at the way she’d jumped to that conclusion. So she’d been a bit jealous. Good to know. “I’m very single, actually.”
She finally glanced up at him, eyes meeting his for just a second, then the back door opened and closed, signaling Miyu’s arrival. (Y/n) quickly looked away, pretending to focus very hard on her baking as she said, almost too casually, “Me too.” Maki just stood there for a moment, grinning like an idiot, before turning back to his station, heart pounding way harder than it should over two simple words.
Every once in a while, (Y/n) was introduced to another one of Maki’s brothers. After meeting Kei and Fuma on her first official workday, she soon met Yuma when he came to drop Miyu off one morning. His chaotic, dramatic energy had her giggling almost immediately. “You’re the new baker?” Yuma asked, peering at her creations like they might personally offend him. “Wow. Rude. How am I supposed to diet now?” (Y/n) laughed. “I’m sorry?” “No, you’re not,” he replied, pointing at a tray of pastries. “And neither am I.”
Next were Jo and Sana, who came in during a quiet lunch hour to study. (Y/n) found them impossibly adorable, Jo shy and soft-spoken, always half-hiding behind Sana, and Sana loud, bright, and endlessly affectionate. “These are amazing,” Sana said dramatically, holding up a forkful of cake. “I might cry.” Jo nodded beside her. “Y-yeah… they’re really good.” (Y/n) smiled warmly. “Thank you.”
Then came Harua, Willow, and Sunoo, visiting together for the first time. Willow’s eyes practically sparkled as she tasted the desserts, and Sunoo looked like he was having a religious experience. “Oh my god,” Willow breathed. “I think I just fell in love with cake.” Sunoo nodded seriously. “This is life-changing.” Maki tried not to look too smug about it.
After that, Nicholas and Rocky came in, loud, bickering, and somehow clearly obsessed with each other at the same time. (Y/n) noticed the tattoo peeking out from under Rocky’s shirt and complimented it. “I love your tattoo,” she said. “It’s gorgeous.” Rocky beamed. “Thank you! And you must be the famous (Y/n) we’ve heard so much about.” (Y/n) blinked, then glanced at Maki, teasing. “Oh? So someone talks about me?” Rocky grinned wider. “Oh, all the time.” Maki immediately looked away, pretending very hard to be busy with literally anything else, while (Y/n) laughed, warmth spreading through her chest.
Next came EJ and Sora. EJ was kind and gentle, with a calm presence that made people feel safe almost instantly, while Sora was loud, wild, and unapologetically herself, bouncing between conversations and teasing EJ every chance she got. Somehow, they fit together perfectly. “These desserts are insane,” Sora said, leaning against the counter. “If I gain five pounds, I’m blaming you.” EJ smiled softly. “Worth it.” (Y/n) laughed. “I’ll take full responsibility.”
After they left, (Y/n) leaned against the counter beside Maki, watching them disappear out the door. “Your brothers are all really handsome,” she said casually, then added, “but their girlfriends? Completely out of their leagues. I’ve never seen so many pretty women in one town.” Maki laughed. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “They’re in a league of their own.” Then, before he could overthink it, he added, “But so are you.” The words surprised both of them. (Y/n) froze for half a second before her cheeks warmed. “Oh, no,” she said quickly, shaking her head with a small laugh. “I’m not nearly as pretty as they are. I’m just… average. At best.” She shrugged it off like it didn’t matter, turning back to her baking, but Maki felt something twist uncomfortably in his chest. How could she not see it? The way her smile lit up the room, the way her eyes softened when she focused, the way she laughed like she meant it. He wanted to tell her. Show her. Make her understand. He just didn’t know how yet.
Lastly, (Y/n) got to meet Aya and Taki, along with Kei, whom she had already met. Taki was a whirlwind of energy, loud, chaotic, and constantly moving, but undeniably kind, while Aya was poetic gentleness personified, soft-spoken and warm, almost ethereal in the way she carried herself. Aya smiled as she introduced herself, and (Y/n) tilted her head. “Wait… I recognize your name, but I can’t place why.” “I write for Kyomei Magazine,” Aya said. (Y/n)’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, you’re a reporter? You wrote that piece on the sanctuary! I loved that article; it made me cry.” Aya laughed softly, clearly touched. “Thank you, that means a lot,” she said. “Maybe someday I’ll get to write something about you, too.” (Y/n) blinked. “Me?” “Absolutely,” Aya said with a gentle smile. “Anyone who makes desserts like yours deserves a spotlight.”
~~~
As Maki and (Y/n) were doing dishes, while Jay and Miyu cleaned up by the tables, Maki finally found the courage to ask, “Um… would you maybe want to come see my place tomorrow?” (Y/n) paused, glancing over at him. “Your house?” “Yeah,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing fancy, but… the snow’s starting to melt, and there’s this pond nearby. It’s kind of hard to explain, but it’s really nice.” She smiled, intrigued. “A mysterious pond, huh? Yeah, I’d like that.” Relief flooded through him, and he tried not to grin too hard. As they said goodbye that evening, Maki scribbled down his address on a scrap of paper and handed it to her. “Come whenever you feel like it,” he said. “I’ll be there.” “Looking forward to it,” she replied, tucking the paper into her pocket.
On the drive home with Miyu, Maki didn’t stop talking about what he should wear, what food he could make, and whether he should clean his room twice or three times. Miyu laughed, shaking her head. “Just be yourself,” she said. “She already seems to like you.” Maki smiled dopily out the window. “Does she?” he murmured, more to himself than to Miyu.
After his brothers promised to behave when (Y/n) came around, Maki went to bed buzzing with anticipation, thoughts racing, wanting to see her again, to make her smile, to hold her, to make her feel just how special she was to him, even if she didn’t know why yet.
~~~
Morning came far too quickly, and Maki was already awake, scrubbing the main house like a man possessed. He fluffed the couch cushions for the third time, muttering, “I swear I live with actual gremlins,” as he straightened a crooked picture frame. The front door opened, and Fuma’s voice echoed through the house. “Maki!” “What?” he called back, still fixing the pillows. “Your visitor’s here.” Maki froze, then sprang upright, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulders, smoothing his hair with both hands, and jogging out onto the porch. When he spotted (Y/n) walking up the path, he lifted his hand and waved a little too enthusiastically, a bright grin spreading across his face.
(Y/n) waved back, feeling a little shy as she walked toward him. “I didn’t expect… a whole village,” she said, glancing around at the cabins scattered across the snowy grounds. Maki chuckled. “Yeah, it’s kind of unique,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing for her to come in. He waved goodbye to Fuma, who was walking off with Tara to patrol the grounds, though, to (Y/n), it just looked like a couple heading out for a morning stroll.
Inside, Maki gave her a little tour, and she stopped dead in front of the pantry, eyes wide. “This is bigger than the one at the restaurant.” He laughed. “Well, there’s sixteen people living here. And until very recently, half of them were hormonal teenagers who ate like black holes.” “That explains a lot,” she said, grinning. “I’ve seen you eat lunch at Koyomi, and you still look hungry every time.” Maki flexed his arms dramatically. “Well, it takes a lot to feed these muscles.” She burst out laughing and gently swatted his arm. “Show-off.”
While Maki was showing (Y/n) around and they began exploring the grounds, EJ received a call from Jay. The alpha immediately got a bad feeling, Jay usually only called him directly when something was wrong. “Hey,” EJ answered. “Hey,” Jay said, sounding a little too casual. “Uh… how are you?” EJ narrowed his eyes. “I’m good. You?” “Good,” Jay replied, then hesitated. “Um… I kind of have a favor to ask.” EJ sighed. “Of course you do. What is it?” Jay let out a breath. “So, my… kind of younger brother called me. He wants to come visit, but I don’t really have space in my apartment. I was wondering if he could stay at the pack house for a few days. I’d stay there too, keep an eye on him.” EJ dragged a hand down his face. “He’s a vampire too, isn’t he?” Jay sighed. “Yeah.” “This is going to be a mess,” EJ muttered, already regretting this. “Is he going to be a problem?” “Probably not,” Jay said quickly. “I don’t like probably,” EJ shot back, then sighed. “But fine. Anything happens, it’s on you.” “Thank you,” Jay said sincerely. “He’ll be there tomorrow.” “Great,” EJ muttered, before hanging up.
Sora came into their cabin just as EJ hung up the call, immediately noticing the look on his face. “What’s wrong?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. EJ sighed. “Jay just called. His younger brother wants to visit, and he asked if they could stay here for a few days.” Sora’s eyes lit up a little. “Oh! If he said younger brother, it’s probably either Jungwon or Niki,” she said thoughtfully. “If it’s Jungwon, it’ll be mostly peaceful, he adores Jay. If it’s Niki, it might be a bit more chaotic, but honestly, he’s pretty chill too.” EJ stepped closer, resting his hands on her hips and pulling her in, breathing in her scent as his shoulders finally relaxed. “I really hope you’re right.” She grinned. “Aren’t I always?” He growled playfully in response, leaning down and attacking her face and neck with kisses, making her laugh as she tried to push him away.
~~~
As Maki and (Y/n) wandered along the snowy paths, she glanced around at the cabins, the trees, the wide stretch of land beyond them. “So… how do you all afford this?” she asked. “It’s huge.” Maki chuckled softly. “A lot of it came from inheritance from our parents,” he explained. “The rest was… hard work. Mostly from the eldest four. They sacrificed a lot to take care of us, younger brothers.” “That’s… really sweet,” she said, her voice gentler now. “It is,” he agreed. “They still take care of us, honestly. But now everyone helps out, the girls, Jay, even Sunoo, though he’s still new. It actually feels like… a real village.”
(Y/n) smiled at that, about to respond when she suddenly slipped on a thin patch of ice. “Whoa!” Before she could fall, Maki reacted instantly, hands gripping her waist as he pulled her back against him. Her breath hitched as she steadied, their faces suddenly inches apart. He could hear her heartbeat spike, fast, startled, mirroring his own. “Careful,” he said softly, smiling down at her. “Don’t want you getting hurt.” She nodded, unable to find her voice right away, too distracted by how close he was, his bright smile, the warmth in his eyes, the way his hands were still firmly but gently holding her. Her cheeks heated, and when she finally managed a small smile back, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them.
Maki kept showing her around, the paths winding gently through the trees until steam began to curl into the air ahead of them. When they reached the pond, (Y/n) stopped short, eyes widening. “Wow…” she breathed. “It looks… magical.” Maki smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Something like that.” Before he could say more, laughter echoed from one of the nearby paths, and Sora, Rocky, and Sana emerged, still mid-conversation. They waved when they spotted them.
“Hey!” Sana called. “You two wanna join us for a swim?” Maki glanced at (Y/n), grinning. “I’m in if you are.” She hesitated, then shook her head with a small laugh. “Uh, I didn’t bring a swimsuit.” Rocky tilted her head thoughtfully. “You can borrow one of mine,” she offered. “I’ve got tons of old designs. I’m sure I’ve got something you’d like.” “That’s really sweet, but…” (Y/n) waved her hands a little. “I’ll pass this time.” Maki caught the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. He didn’t push, just squeezed her hand gently instead. “Another time,” he said easily, then looked back to the girls. “Have fun, yeah?” “Your loss,” Sora teased with a grin. “This water’s amazing.” Sana smiled warmly at (Y/n). “Next time, then.”
As the three girls headed toward the pond, Maki turned back to (Y/n), guiding her along another path. “We can come back whenever,” he said softly. “No rush.” She glanced at him, surprised, and a little relieved, before smiling. “Thanks.” He just smiled back, heart warm, glad he’d read her right. (Y/n) tilted her head as they walked. “So… what do you usually do when you’re not working or studying?” Maki thought about it for a moment. “Hmm. A lot of basketball, mostly,” he said. “Me and some of my brothers play. Nicholas and Jo are by far the best, but Taki, Yuma, Fuma, and I usually join in too. EJ comes sometimes when he’s bored.” “Are you good?” she asked, teasing. He scoffed dramatically. “Wow. Straight for the ego.” She laughed. “That wasn’t an answer.” “I’m… decent,” he said, grinning. “Not amazing, but it’s always fun, especially having our own court so we can play whenever we want.” “That actually sounds really nice,” (Y/n) said. “Especially having your own court.”
Almost on cue, they rounded a corner and the basketball court came into view, a few rogue balls scattered across the concrete. Maki’s eyes lit up. “Oh, perfect timing.” He jogged over, scooping one up and spinning it on his finger for half a second before lining up a shot. “Watch this.” He tossed it toward the hoop, holding his breath, and when it swished cleanly through the net, he froze for a second before throwing his hands up. “Yes!” he laughed. “Absolutely intentional.” (Y/n) clapped, laughing. “Wow, look at you. So cool.” He gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Did you hear that? She said I’m cool.”
Then he did a ridiculously over-the-top victory dance, complete with finger guns and a little spin, making her laugh even harder. But as he turned back toward her, he noticed the way her nose had gone pink from the cold, and how her shoulders lifted slightly as she tried to hide a shiver. He frowned softly, walking back over. “Okay, nope. That’s enough outside for you.” She blinked. “What?” “You’re freezing,” he said gently. “I can see it.” “I’m not,” She paused as another shiver slipped through her, then sighed. “Okay, maybe a little.” Maki smiled, tugging lightly at her sleeve. “Come on. Before you catch a cold and I get yelled at for not taking care of you.” She laughed, nodding. “Alright, alright. Lead the way.” And together, they headed back inside, warmth waiting just beyond the door.
Inside, Maki told (Y/n) to get comfortable on the couch while he disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a steaming mug of hot cocoa, carefully decorated with a little smiley face in whipped cream dusted with cocoa powder. “Ta-da,” he said proudly, handing it to her. Her eyes lit up. “Oh my god, that’s adorable.” “Hey, presentation matters,” he replied with a grin. Then, without making a big deal out of it, he draped a soft blanket over her legs. “Want me to start a fire too?” She laughed, pulling the blanket closer around herself. “This is already way more than enough, thank you.” “If you say so,” he said, sitting down beside her, but leaving a respectful bit of space between them, not wanting to crowd her.
She took a sip of the cocoa and hummed softly. “Wow. This is really good.” Maki’s ears warmed. “Yeah? I mean, uh, good. I’m glad.” A few minutes later, footsteps came from the stairs, and EJ appeared, running a hand through his hair. “Hey, have either of you seen Sora?” Maki looked up. “Yeah, she went to the pond with Sana and Rocky.” “Oh.” EJ nodded, then hesitated. “What about Miyu?” Maki shook his head. “No idea, but I haven’t seen Yuma either, so I’m guessing they’re off somewhere being gross and in love.” (Y/n) laughed into her mug. “Are they really that bad?” “Yes,” Maki and EJ said at the exact same time. EJ sighed dramatically. Then he nodded at them. “Thanks,” and headed back outside.
As the door closed behind him, Maki frowned slightly. “He looked… worried.” (Y/n) glanced toward the door. “Yeah. I noticed that too.” “I’ll ask him later,” Maki murmured, more to himself than to her, before turning back to her with a softer smile. “You warm enough now?” She nodded, curling her fingers around the mug. “Yeah. Cozy, actually.” “Good,” he said quietly, and for a moment, the room felt warm in more ways than one.
Maki almost told her then and there about the wolves, the bonds, the truth about himself. The words sat heavy on his tongue. But he swallowed them back. Telling her would mean telling her she was his mate, too, and he didn’t want her to feel trapped by fate or destiny. He wanted her to choose him, not the universe. He wanted her to fall for him slowly, naturally, because she wanted to, not because something ancient had decided it for her.
So instead, they watched a movie. It was one of those cozy, low-stakes ones, something easy and comforting. At some point, (Y/n) shifted closer without realizing it, her shoulder brushing his arm, and Maki nearly short-circuited. He stayed perfectly still, heart pounding, pretending to focus on the screen while absolutely not doing that at all. She laughed at a joke in the movie, glancing over at him. “You’re not even watching.” He blinked. “I am.” “You didn’t even react.” “…It was funny internally.” She snorted, shaking her head, and he smiled, warmth spreading through his chest. Too soon, the movie ended, and (Y/n) glanced at the time on her phone. “Oh, I should probably head home.” “Oh,” Maki said a little too fast, then cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
Right then, Aya came down the stairs looking for the keys to one of the cars, muttering about how no one used the key hanger. Maki asked her where she was going, she said she was going to pick up Kei from a modelling job. Aya then looked at (Y/n), asking if she was about to head home, (Y/n) nodded, Aya smiled, saying she’d give her a ride to town, if she could find those damn keys. And so, after the three of them searched and finally finding a pair of keys, it was time for (Y/n) to go home.
They stood near the door awkwardly for half a second, neither quite sure what to do with their hands or their eyes. Then Maki took a small breath. “Um… can I hug you?” Her lips curved into a soft smile. “Yeah.” He wrapped his arms around her carefully, like she might disappear if he held her wrong. She fit against him perfectly, too perfectly, and for a brief moment, he let himself breathe her in, memorizing her warmth, her scent, the way her arms settled around his waist.
“Goodbye,” he whispered near her ear. “See you tomorrow.” Her breath hitched just a little. “See you tomorrow,” she murmured back, cheeks warm, before pulling away. Aya stood leaning against the door with the keys in hand. “Ready?” (Y/n) nodded. “Yeah, thanks again.” She waved at Maki as she stepped outside. “Bye!” “Bye,” he said, probably too softly, watching her walk away like she was something rare and fragile and entirely his favorite thing in the world. And for the first time in a long time, fate didn’t feel heavy. It felt hopeful.
~~~
Once Aya returned with Kei, EJ called a pack meeting, his voice carrying through the house until everyone slowly gathered in the living room. It was crowded, bodies on couches, on the floor, leaning against walls, but no one complained. If EJ called a meeting, it meant something serious. He stood near the fireplace, arms crossed, and sighed deeply before speaking. “Okay,” he said. “We’re going to have a guest.” That alone sent a ripple through the room. “A guest?” Yuma repeated. “What do you mean? Like Jay?”
EJ ignored him. “They’ll be staying a few days. Starting tomorrow.” Maki frowned. “Since when do we let people stay here that aren’t family or dating family?” “Yeah,” Taki added. “Last time we had unexpected company, things didn’t end well.” The room shifted uncomfortably at that memory. Sora stepped forward. “It’s a vampire. From Jay’s and my old coven.” Silence. Actual, heavy silence. “…No,” Harua said quietly. Nicholas straightened instantly. “Absolutely not.” Rocky’s brows furrowed. “EJ, what the hell?” Maki felt his stomach drop. A vampire inside pack territory, a stranger, no worse, a vampire, was the fastest way to trigger every instinct they had.
EJ raised both hands. “Before anyone loses their mind, listen. Jay asked me personally.” “That doesn’t make it better,” Yuma shot back. “Who is it?” Aya asked carefully. Sora shrugged. “Jay called them his ‘younger brother.’ I don’t know which one it is yet, either Jungwon or Niki.” Blank stares. “…Okay,” Taki said slowly. “I have no idea who either of those people are, but I already don’t like them.” “Same,” Nicholas said flatly.
Maki glanced at Miyu. “Do you know them?” “Barely,” Miyu said. “I met them once years ago. Like… a hello-goodbye situation. That’s it.” “So,” Yuma said, spreading his hands, “we’re inviting a completely unknown vampire into our home. Fantastic.” Sora crossed her arms. “I know them better. If it’s Jungwon, he’s polite and kind, he looks up to Jay a lot, I doubt he’d cause trouble. If it’s Niki, he’s… More chaotic, louder in a way yet still calm, he’s not as bound to Jay as Jungwon is, but he’s a good kid. Neither of them is dangerous.”
Nicholas narrowed his eyes. “You don’t get to decide that.” “And you don’t get to decide who I trust,” Sora shot back. “But Jay does, in this case.” Kei looked at EJ. “Why did you agree?” “Because Jay doesn’t ask for favors unless he really needs them,” EJ said. “And because he promised he’d be here the entire time. His responsibility.” “And if something goes wrong?” Tara asked quietly. “Then the vampire leaves,” EJ said immediately. “No debate.” “And if someone gets hurt?” Nicholas pressed. EJ’s eyes hardened. “Then I handle it.” That shut the room up.
Maki shifted. “What about (Y/n)? She doesn’t know about… any of this.” Sora nodded. “Jay said he’ll tell the kid to not act like a vampire around her, it’s inevitable that they’ll meet, so Jay will prepare the kid for that situation.” Miyu folded her arms. “I get helping Jay. But everyone here has a right to feel safe.” “You do,” EJ said. “And I’m not forcing anyone to trust him. I’m asking you to tolerate him, carefully, for a few days.” Taki sighed. “So what’s the plan? Vampire probation?” “Yes,” EJ said flatly. “Guest room only. No wandering alone. No restricted areas. Jay supervises him at all times.” Nicholas scoffed. “Great. A babysat vampire.” “Better than an unsupervised one,” Aya said gently. The room fell quiet again.
~~~
The next day arrived with tension hanging thick in the air. No one slept well. Even the house itself felt restless, doors opening and closing too softly, footsteps pacing instead of walking, coffee brewing stronger than usual. The pack village, usually warm and loud in the mornings, was quiet in that brittle, waiting way. Jay messaged Miyu in the morning, around nine am. Jay: We’ll be there in about an hour. Jay: Thought I’d warn you so you can wake everyone + eat first. Miyu read the message twice before sighing and rubbing her face. “Great,” she muttered. “The vampire countdown has begun.”
She told Yuma, who sent a mindlink, alerting all the wolves, who in turn alerted their mates. Within seconds, doors started opening, voices drifting into the halls, tension already creeping into the air. By the time breakfast was on the table, Nicholas and Fuma were already standing near the counter with crossed arms, both visibly irritated. “I still don’t get why you agreed without talking to anyone,” Nicholas said sharply, golden eyes flashing faintly. “That’s not how this works.” EJ leaned against the kitchen island, jaw tight. “Jay didn’t exactly give me time to organize a town hall.”
“That’s not the point,” Fuma cut in, voice low but heavy. “Last time we trusted vampires, people got hurt, we lost people, and we almost lost more.” Rocky stiffened slightly at the table, Nicholas’s eyes shot to her instantly. “And Tara almost never became my mate because of them,” Fuma continued, glancing at her briefly before looking back at EJ. “You’re asking us to invite that back into our home. Into our safe space.”
Nicholas scoffed. “It feels like inviting the devil for coffee.” “Okay, dramatic,” Sora muttered, mouth full of toast. “I’m serious,” Nicholas snapped. “You weren’t the one watching your mate almost fade away, I felt her slipping.” EJ’s expression softened. “I know. And I’m not dismissing that.” “Then why does it feel like you are?” Fuma asked. “Because I’m choosing Jay,” EJ said firmly. “He fought beside us. He protected us. He bled with us. You really think he’d betray us now?” “That doesn’t mean his brother won’t,” Nicholas shot back.
EJ opened his mouth, but Kei spoke first. “I’m not thrilled either,” he admitted, setting down his mug. “But I trust Jay. Enough to give this one chance. If something feels off, we shut it down immediately.” Maki shook his head from across the table. “That’s easy to say when it’s not your mate that almost got taken from us.” Kei turned toward him. “And it’s easy to say no to everything when you’re scared.” Maki bristled. “I’m not scared.” “You’re defensive,” Kei replied calmly. “There’s a difference.”
Yuma leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “No, I’m with Nico and Fuma on this. This is a bad idea. Period.” “Same,” Maki muttered. Harua glanced between them, fingers twisting in his sleeve. “I don’t love it either… but Jay wouldn’t hurt us. Not intentionally.” Jo nodded softly beside Sana. “Yeah… he always felt kind.” Taki shrugged. “I hate it, but I kinda agree. Jay’s solid.” Sana looked between the brothers nervously. “I just don’t want anyone getting hurt again.” Rocky finally spoke, her voice quieter than usual. “I trust Jay. I don’t trust his mystery brother. Those are two different things.” Nicholas immediately nodded. “Exactly.”
EJ exhaled slowly. “And that’s why he’ll be supervised. Constantly. He doesn’t get free roam. He doesn’t get alone time. He doesn’t get access to anything sensitive.” “And if he steps out of line?” Fuma asked. “Then he’s gone,” EJ said immediately. “No discussion.” Silence followed. Not peaceful, but heavy. Weighted with memories and fear and the kind of protectiveness that only came from almost losing each other.
Fuma dragged a hand through his hair. “I still hate this.” “I know,” EJ said quietly. “But sometimes trusting the right person means risking discomfort. Not danger, discomfort.” Yuma scoffed. “You’re really trying to sell this.” “I’m trying to keep this family from tearing itself in half before the guest even arrives.” That shut everyone up. Kei sighed. “Look. No one here wants this. That alone should tell us something. But we trust Jay. And if we don’t, then what was all that fighting together even for?”
Nicholas looked away. Fuma’s jaw tightened. Maki stared into his coffee. Harua finally murmured, “I just… don’t want us to become people who never let anyone in.” Taki nodded slowly. “Yeah. That too.” Another stretch of silence. Then EJ checked his phone. “Fifteen minutes,” he said. No one smiled. No one relaxed. And no one, not a single one of them, felt ready. But whether they were ready or not, the clock was already ticking.
~~~
Fifteen minutes later, Jay and his younger brother appeared at the edge of the pack village. Not with a car. Of course not. EJ, Sora, Yuma, and Miyu were already standing outside, waiting, the cold morning air curling around them. Miyu glanced down the road once more, brows knitting slightly. “I thought they’d drive,”
A sudden rush of wind whipped past them, snow scattering, and then two figures were just… there. Sora burst out laughing immediately. “Called it.” Jay straightened his jacket like nothing unusual had happened, while the vampire beside him looked around with wide, curious eyes, clearly impressed by the village layout. Sora’s smile widened as recognition hit her. “Oh,” she muttered. “Of course it’s you.” Jay sighed tiredly. “Don’t start.”
EJ stepped forward, forcing his shoulders to relax, even though his instincts were buzzing under his skin. “Jay,” he said firmly, nodding once. “Good to see you.” Jay returned the nod. “You too. And… thanks again. For this.” EJ’s gaze shifted to the other vampire, who was already smiling like he’d just arrived at a theme park instead of a werewolf pack village. “And you must be…” EJ began, extending his hand. The guy took it instantly, shaking it with far too much enthusiasm, pumping EJ’s arm up and down like they were best friends already. “Yang Jungwon!” he said brightly. “Jay’s little brother. Well, not actually brother, but emotionally brother. Spiritually brother. Found family brother.”
Jay groaned softly behind him. “You’re already embarrassing me.” Jungwon turned around. “I literally said nothing weird.” “You never stop talking,” Jay muttered. Miyu smiled politely, though her eyes were sharp with curiosity. “I’m Miyu. Welcome.” Jungwon beamed at her. “Wow, you’re pretty. Jay, your friends are hot.” Jay pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please stop.” Yuma blinked. “…I don’t like him.” Sora snorted. “You say that, but give it ten minutes.”
Jungwon finally noticed her properly and gasped. “Oh my god, Sora?” She grinned. “Told you he’d recognize me.” He stepped closer instantly, pointing at her. “Jay talks about you all the time.” “I literally do not talk about her that much,” Jay protested. “You talk about her constantly.” Sora laughed. “He’s lying, I don’t even talk to you that often.” EJ cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “Well. Welcome to the pack village. You’ll be staying in the guest cabin near the tree line. Rules will be explained shortly.”
Jungwon nodded enthusiastically. “Love rules. Very into boundaries. Big fan.” Yuma muttered, “That makes one of us.” Jay rubbed his face. “I already regret this.” Jungwon gasped dramatically. “Wow. I’ve been here thirty seconds.” EJ glanced at Jay. “You sure about this?” Jay sighed, looking at Jungwon, who was now crouched to touch the snow like he’d never seen it before. “No,” he admitted. “But here we are.” Jay sighed again. “I told you I hoped I wouldn’t regret this.” Sora laughed softly. “Too late.”
Inside, Fuma and Nicholas were both on full guard. Fuma sat in one of the chairs near the dining table, Tara curled tightly in his lap, his arms wrapped around her almost possessively. His wolf refused to calm unless she was close, closer than usual, closer than necessary, but Tara didn’t protest. She understood. Truthfully, she was nervous too. She knew she’d heard both Jungwon’s and Niki’s names during her time with Heeseung, fragments of conversations and half-memories surfacing now that a vampire from Jay’s old coven was under their roof. She couldn’t picture their faces, but that almost made it worse. She just hoped neither of them carried pieces of her past with them. Fuma pressed a quiet kiss to her temple. “You okay?” he murmured, low enough that only she could hear. Tara nodded, resting her forehead against his shoulder. “Yeah. Just… on edge.” “Me too,” he admitted. “But I’ve got you.”
Across the room, Nicholas had claimed one of the armchairs, Rocky sitting sideways in his lap, his arms locked around her waist like iron bars. A low growl rumbled constantly in his chest, not loud enough to draw attention, but unmistakable, a warning more than a threat. When Jo wandered a little too close, Nico’s eyes flicked up instantly, golden flash beneath dark lashes. Rocky sighed softly. “Nico, I’m fine. I can handle myself around a vampire.” “No,” he said flatly, tightening his hold just a fraction. “Absolutely not.” She leaned her head back against his shoulder, rolling her eyes. “You’re being dramatic.” He huffed. “It’s either this or I lock you in our cabin.” “…That’s not comforting.” “But effective.” Rocky stared at him for a moment, then laughed under her breath, finally relaxing into his chest. “You’re ridiculous.” “And you’re staying right here,” he muttered, pressing a kiss into her hair, his growl easing just slightly, but not disappearing.
After EJ showed Jay the cabin they’d be staying in and went through the rules with Jungwon, no wandering alone, no blood drinking, no acting like a vampire around humans unaware of the supernatural, and only those already in the main house were allowed to know what he was, Jungwon nodded along obediently, hands raised in mock surrender. “Okay, okay,” he said lightly. “You can chill out. I won’t cause trouble. If Jay says you’re good people, then you’re good people.” EJ sighed, not entirely sure whether that made him feel better or worse, and Jay didn’t look much more convinced either. Still, rules laid out and understood, they headed back toward the porch of the main house.
Just before stepping inside, EJ paused, turning to Jungwon. “There are two wolves in particular who are probably going to be… hostile toward you.” Jungwon tilted his head. “Because of Heeseung and Sunghoon?” EJ nodded once. Jungwon’s expression softened, the joking edge fading. “Yeah. I get that. What they did was messed up.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders lifting in a small shrug. “That’s traditional vampire culture, though. Old rules, old thinking. But I’m not traditional.” Jay glanced at him, surprised. Jungwon gave a crooked smile in return. “Seriously. I’m not here to hurt anyone. I just want to hang out with my brother for a few days.” EJ studied him for a moment longer before exhaling slowly. “Let’s hope that stays true.”
As they stepped inside, it was immediately clear that Jungwon’s senses were overwhelmed by the sheer number of different scents filling the house, his eyes widening slightly as he took a deeper breath, trying to ground himself in the chaos of werewolves, witches, humans, and vampires all sharing the same space. Kei and Aya were the first to step forward, Kei offering a polite smile as he introduced himself as the eldest of the pack and gestured to Aya at his side, calling her his mate. Jungwon took in Kei’s height, feeling inexplicably small in comparison, but still smiled and introduced himself back, voice steady despite the nerves buzzing under his skin. Next came Harua and Willow, with Sunoo hovering close beside them, all three greeting him warmly, and Jungwon returned the hellos easily, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction at their friendliness.
After them came Sana and Jo, and Jungwon once again felt dwarfed by Jo’s height, though the wolf’s shy demeanor softened the intimidation instantly, making Jungwon think they might actually get along pretty well, especially when Sana stepped forward brightly and shook his hand without hesitation, chatting like this was the most normal thing in the world. Then came Taki, who did his best to look cheerful and welcoming, though Jungwon could read the nerves in his posture and scent, recognizing the tension for what it was without holding it against him. Lastly came Maki, whose introduction was short and stiff, lacking any hint of a smile, and Jungwon felt an unexpected chill run down his spine, the youngest wolf was intimidating not just in height and build, but in the sharp, guarded energy he radiated, making it painfully clear that Jungwon’s presence here was anything but welcome.
Finally, EJ cleared his throat, the sound sharp enough to cut through the tension, sending a pointed glare first at Fuma and then at Nicholas, silently demanding they introduce themselves already. Fuma shot him a look right back, his eyes flashing amber twice in warning before he finally spoke, voice clipped and cold. “Fuma,” he said simply, tightening his arm around Tara. “And this is my mate, Tara.” Jungwon nodded quickly, definitely feeling the weight of the wolf’s presence, but he still offered a polite smile. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t betray how intimidated he felt.
Then it was Nicholas’ turn. His growl deepened, low and rumbling, sending a shiver straight down Jungwon’s spine, but before he could even speak, the girl in his lap beat him to it. “I’m Rocky,” she said brightly, clearly amused by the tension. “I’m a witch.” Then she pointed her thumb back at Nicholas. “And this is my grumpy mate, Nico. Or, well, Nicholas.” Jungwon blinked, then laughed softly despite himself. “Nice to meet you,” he said, smile widening a little as he looked at her. Nicholas only huffed, arms tightening slightly around Rocky, but the growl faded, at least for now.
After the introductions, Jungwon ended up sitting down on the floor in the living room with Harua, Willow, Jo, Sana, Sunoo, Jay, Sora, Miyu, and Yuma, a loose circle forming as someone dragged out a stack of board games from the cabinet. “Okay, absolutely not Monopoly,” Sora said immediately, dropping down cross-legged. “I refuse to ruin friendships today.” Sunoo laughed. “You say that like it’s not already doomed.” “How about this one?” Willow asked, holding up a brightly colored box. Jo leaned over to read the title. “That one takes like three hours…” “Perfect,” Sana said brightly. “We’re stuck inside anyway.”
Jungwon watched them for a moment, then smiled a little. “You guys always like this?” “Only on days that end in Y,” Yuma replied dryly, earning a snort from Jay. Despite the awkward start, things stayed mostly… civil. Jungwon laughed when he was supposed to, followed the rules, even when Sana explained them twice, and somehow managed to beat Sunoo in the first round. “That’s suspicious,” Sunoo said, narrowing his eyes. “No way you’re that lucky.” Jungwon lifted his hands. “Beginner’s luck. I swear.”
Across the room, however, the tension hadn’t gone anywhere. Fuma leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight. Nicholas sat rigidly in an armchair, eyes tracking Jungwon every time he laughed. And Maki stood near the doorway, silent, shoulders stiff, his wolf clearly restless beneath his skin. EJ noticed. He sighed quietly, rubbing a hand over his face, then glanced at Kei. “I need backup.” Kei nodded once. “Yeah.” Aya caught the shift immediately. “Hey,” she said gently, clapping her hands. “Tara, Rocky, come with me. Taki too.” Taki blinked. “Me?” “Yes, you,” Aya said with a soft smile. “Before you stress yourself into another dimension.” Taki relaxed instantly. “Thank you.” Rocky slid out of Nicholas’ lap, muttering, “Try not to start a war while I’m gone.” “No promises,” Nicholas grumbled. Tara squeezed Fuma’s arm. “Please don’t punch anyone.” Fuma exhaled through his nose. “I’ll behave.”
Aya led Tara, Rocky, and Taki toward the basketball court, mostly just to give them something to do, and somewhere to be, while the tension inside cooled off. Meanwhile, EJ motioned sharply. “Fuma. Nicholas. Maki. Outside. Now.” Maki stiffened. “What?” “Now,” EJ repeated. Kei followed behind them as support, hands in his pockets but posture alert. They moved around the back of the house, far enough away that raised voices wouldn’t carry inside. The moment they were out of sight, EJ turned on them, arms crossed, expression hard. “Alright,” he said flatly. “We’re talking. And we’re starting with why three grown wolves are acting like territorial teenagers over someone who hasn’t done a single thing wrong.”
Nicholas didn’t even wait for EJ to finish speaking. His eyes flashed gold, a low growl ripping from his chest as his fangs slipped out slightly. “You don’t get it,” he snapped. “We almost lost you because of a vampire. Yeah, you survived, congratulations, but that doesn’t erase the fact that you nearly died.” EJ stiffened, but Nicholas wasn’t done. “And Rocky,” he continued, voice rougher now, raw. “She nearly burned herself out freeing Tara from Heeseung. I almost lost her, I almost lost my mate, Euijoo. Sunghoon tried to kill you, Sora, hell, he tried to kill all of us. People got hurt. We lost Lila. We lost Jake. Our home turned into a battlefield.” His jaw clenched. “The only vampire we’ve ever met who didn’t destroy something was Jay. He helped us. He healed Yuma. He fought with us. We don’t know anything about this Jungwon, so no, I don’t trust him.”
Fuma nodded sharply, eyes glowing faint amber. “And you don’t know what that felt like,” he said to EJ, voice low but heavy. “You chose not to accept Sora at first, that was your choice. I didn’t get one. I was kept from my mate by a brainwashing vampire. I watched Tara suffer while I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.” His fists clenched. “So yeah, I’m not exactly excited about welcoming another one into our home.” Maki stepped forward then, quieter, but no less serious. “Lila was my friend,” he said, voice tight. “She was kind. Gentle. And we had to send her away because of all that mess. She was hurt because of us. Because of vampires.” His eyes dropped briefly before lifting again. “I don’t want to risk that happening again. Especially not now.” His jaw tightened. “Not when I just found my mate.”
The air went heavy with silence, thick with old wounds and memories that hadn’t healed as much as any of them pretended. Kei shifted beside EJ, finally speaking. “No one’s saying your fears aren’t valid,” he said calmly. “But acting hostile from the start doesn’t protect anyone, it just makes things worse.” EJ dragged a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. “I know what you’ve all been through,” he said quietly. “I lived through it, too. I nearly died, too.” His eyes lifted, meeting each of theirs in turn. “But Jay trusted him enough to bring him here. And Jay has never once betrayed us. Not even when he had every reason to walk away.”
Nicholas scoffed. “That doesn’t mean Jungwon deserves that trust.” “No,” EJ agreed. “But it also doesn’t mean he deserves your hostility.” Fuma looked away, jaw tight. “So what, we’re just supposed to pretend everything’s fine?” “No,” EJ said firmly. “You’re supposed to not start a war before one exists.” Maki muttered, “Hard to do when history keeps repeating itself.” EJ turned to him. “And you, especially you, need to cool it. You were openly hostile to him inside. He hasn’t done anything. And you’re already on thin ice after the other day.”
Maki bristled. “I wasn’t,” “You were,” EJ cut in. “And I get why. But you don’t get to let your fear turn into aggression. Not here.” Maki looked away, jaw tight. “I just don’t want to lose anyone else.” The words hit harder than anything else he’d said. For a moment, no one spoke. Finally, EJ softened his tone. “None of us do. That’s the point. Which is why we don’t burn bridges before we know what’s on the other side.” Kei added quietly, “We’re not asking you to trust him. Just… tolerate him. For now.” Nicholas growled under his breath but didn’t argue. Fuma sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Fine. But if he steps out of line,” “He won’t,” EJ said immediately. “And if he does, he’s gone. That’s the deal.”
Maki nodded reluctantly. “I’ll behave.” Nicholas shot him a look. “Try harder than that.” Maki huffed. “Says the guy who growled at him like he was about to bite his head off.” “Tempting,” Nicholas muttered. Despite everything, Kei let out a quiet snort. “Great. Progress.” EJ exhaled slowly. “Good. Then let’s go back inside before someone assumes we’re planning a coup.” Fuma muttered, “Feels like one.” But he turned toward the house anyway. And slowly, reluctantly, the tension began to loosen, just a fraction.
Meanwhile, Aya asked how Tara and Rocky were feeling, since they were the most affected by the vampire’s visit. Rocky took the basketball that Taki tossed her and shot it toward the hoop. It bounced off the rim, but she barely reacted. “Honestly? I don’t feel much,” she said, shrugging. “Jungwon wasn’t involved in what happened. And when I walked through Tara’s memories, I never saw him. Heeseung kept her close constantly, so if Jungwon wasn’t there, he probably wasn’t part of that mess. Maybe he really is more like Jay. You know. Not an asshole.”
Tara took the next ball when Taki handed it to her. She aimed carefully and managed to score, smiling faintly before the smile faded again. “I’m… not great,” she admitted quietly. “But it’s not really Jungwon. I’m just scared some hidden memory of Heeseung is going to surface and wreck me out of nowhere.” She hugged her arms around herself slightly. “And Fuma isn’t helping. He’s supposed to ground me, but right now he’s just making me more anxious because I don’t know if he’s going to stay calm or suddenly start a fight.”
Taki chimed in, saying he kind of felt the same. Fuma was always calm and in control, but the brother he was seeing now made him anxious, too, and that wasn’t great, since his wolf was finally coming to the surface. He admitted he was scared that if he got too anxious, he might shift and lose control. Aya pulled him into a small hug. “It’s okay. I’m sure EJ and Kei can talk some sense into them.” Rocky joked, “Otherwise, I’ll just spell them.” Tara laughed lightly at that, just as the boys came back around the house. Aya called them over, saying she mostly needed Fuma and Nico. They walked over, while EJ and Maki went inside, and Kei followed Fuma and Nico as the two grumpy wolves joined the girls.
Aya crossed her arms gently. “I think Rocky, Tara, and Taki should tell you how they’re feeling.” Rocky went first, repeating what she’d told the others, ending with a pointed look at Nicholas. “I’m not helpless, and I don’t appreciate you making me feel like I am.” Nicholas smiled awkwardly, finally realizing how he’d been acting. Tara took a deep breath. “Fuma… I am anxious,” she said quietly, “but not in the way you think. And you're acting like you’re about to snap at any second? That’s actually making it worse.” Fuma froze, looking down at the ground. “I… I didn’t realize I was doing that,” he muttered. “I thought I was protecting you.” “I know,” Tara said softly, stepping closer. “But right now, I just need you to calm down. If you’re okay, then I’ll be okay too.” She hugged him, and after a second, he wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Alright,” he promised. “I’ll calm down.” “And if you don’t,” she added lightly, “I’ll make you sleep in the dog house.” That made him huff out a laugh. “Cruel.” “You deserve it,” she teased, smiling, and with that, his wolf finally settled.
Taki shifted awkwardly before speaking up. “Uh… I kind of feel the same, actually. You’re usually so calm, Fuma, and seeing you like this makes me anxious too. And that’s… not great, considering my wolf’s finally waking up.” Kei immediately stepped closer to him. “Hey,” he said gently, “if you start feeling overwhelmed, come to me. I’ve got you, okay?” Taki nodded, relieved. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” Aya looked between all of them, crossing her arms. “So,” she said, tilting her head, “are we good now? Can we maybe stop glaring at the guest like we’re about to eat him?” Rocky snorted. “Please. I was two seconds away from casting a calming spell on all of you.” Fuma groaned. “That was not necessary.” “I disagree,” she shot back. Nicholas rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, okay. Point taken.” Aya smiled. “Great. Then let’s go back inside and try being decent hosts for once.” Everyone nodded, and together, they headed back into the house.
Soon enough, it was time for Miyu, Jay, and Maki to head to Koyomi, which meant Jungwon had to come too, since he wasn’t allowed out of Jay’s sight during his visit. That was the rule. Jungwon practically bounced as they walked toward the cars. “I’m excited,” he said brightly. “Jay hasn’t cooked for me in forever. I miss your food.” Jay snorted. “You’re about to be disappointed. I mostly just host now, seating people, taking orders. Miyu and Maki handle the cooking, and now (Y/n) does all the baking. I only cook on days when Maki or Miyu are sick or have school.” “Ooo,” Jungwon said, eyes lighting up. “A bakery genius? I already like this place.” Maki kept quiet, walking beside them with his hands in his pockets. He half-expected Jungwon to ask about Lila, where she’d gone, what happened to her, but he didn’t. No reaction, no questions. It looked like Rocky’s spell really had worked on everyone outside the pack. Still, Maki couldn’t help the tight feeling in his chest. He didn’t love the idea of Jungwon being around (Y/n). He glanced at Jay, then at Jungwon, forcing his shoulders to relax. Get it together, he told himself. He’d promised EJ he’d behave. But even so… he was still unhappy about the whole thing.
Once they reached Koyomi, Maki could tell (Y/n) was already there, her scent was strong and sweet, wrapping around him the second he stepped inside. The smell of fresh-baked cookies filled the restaurant, warm and comforting. Miyu blinked at the trays on the counter. “How long have you been here?” she asked. “It looks like you baked half the menu already.” (Y/n) laughed, glancing at the clock. “Um… maybe three hours? Or four? I kind of lost track.” Maki smiled softly, thinking you could’ve texted me, I would’ve come early just to keep you company, but he kept it to himself, not wanting to come on too strong.
(Y/n)’s eyes drifted past him, landing on the unfamiliar face behind Jay. She tilted her head. “Did you suddenly get another brother you forgot to tell me about?” Everyone laughed. Jungwon stepped forward easily, offering his hand. “Not a brother, friend of Jay’s. Sort of a younger brother, though. I’m Jungwon.” (Y/n) smiled and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/n).” Maki felt the low instinctive urge to growl rise in his chest, but he forced it down, jaw tightening instead. Jungwon caught the shift immediately, the tension in Maki’s shoulders, the flash of something feral in his eyes, and calmly took a step back, hands lifting slightly in surrender. “Don’t worry,” Jungwon said lightly, glancing between them. “Not here to cause trouble.” (Y/n) blinked, confused by the sudden awkwardness. “Uh… okay?” Maki cleared his throat, forcing a smile. “Yeah. He’s… visiting.”
~~~
The night passed quickly after that, and then a few more days slipped by just as fast. Jungwon stayed firmly in his lane, careful not to break any rules, and somehow, without trying too hard, he even became friends with most of the pack. Nicholas had opened up to him quicker than anyone expected, and while Fuma was still wary, he’d settled into something resembling polite tolerance.
Now it was Friday, and Maki had the day off from school again. The night before, he’d asked (Y/n) if she wanted to hang out before work, and Miyu and Jay had immediately offered to cover lunch so they could have extra time together. Maki had nearly short-circuited from happiness. So now they were walking through town, side by side, hands brushing occasionally but neither quite brave enough to grab the other’s yet. “And then,” Maki was saying, gesturing wildly, “the math test yesterday was brutal. Like, genuinely offensive.”
(Y/n) laughed. “Offensive?” “Yes. I’m pretty sure it personally attacked me.” She smiled. “I get that. Math was never my thing either. I liked art and English way more.” “Yeah?” Maki glanced at her. “Mine’s PE.” She groaned softly. “Of course it is.” Rolling her eyes. “What? That hurt,” he teased. “Why don’t you like it?” (Y/n) shrugged, gesturing vaguely at herself. “Look at me. I don’t exactly look like someone who loves sports. And my classmates made sure to remind me of that.” Maki stopped walking. She took two more steps before noticing and turning back. “What?” He looked at her, brows furrowed, genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?” She blinked. “About… me not being sporty?” “No,” he said, shaking his head. “About you talking about yourself like that.”
She shifted awkwardly. “I mean, it’s just true.” “Is it?” he asked softly. “Because I don’t see it.” She laughed a little, uncertain. “That’s sweet, but,” “No, I’m serious.” He stepped closer, hands in his pockets like he didn’t trust himself not to reach for her. “You don’t look like someone who hates sports. You look like someone who just didn’t get treated right.” Her smile faded, replaced with something quieter. “You don’t have to say that.” “I know,” he said. “I want to.” She studied his face for a moment, then looked away, cheeks warm. “You’re really bad for my self-esteem issues, you know that?” He grinned. “Good. I’ll bully them out of existence.” She laughed again, softer this time. “You’re ridiculous.” “Only for you,” he said without thinking. They both froze. Maki’s ears burned. “I… I mean,” (Y/n) smiled, eyes dropping to the sidewalk. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I noticed.”
They walked in comfortable peace for a while after that, drifting into lighter topics, favorite movies, embarrassing childhood stories, and the weirdest things customers had ever asked for at Koyomi. Eventually, hunger caught up to them, and they ducked into a small café near the park. “I’m ordering dessert,” Maki announced confidently, scanning the menu. (Y/n) glanced up. “Maki, I really don’t,” “Non-negotiable.” She sighed. “I’m serious, I,” He leaned across the table, lowering his voice dramatically. “Okay, but… what if we just share something?” She hesitated, then smiled despite herself. “You’re impossible.” “Effective,” he corrected.
They ordered, ate their lunch, and when dessert arrived, they dug in together, two spoons and one plate, accidentally bumping hands and laughing about it. It was nice. Easy. Normal. Then the door opened. A group of guys around their age walked in, loud and careless, the kind that took up too much space without realizing it. Maki barely noticed at first, until he felt (Y/n)’s posture stiffen beside him. She didn’t say anything, but he followed her gaze. Two of the guys were looking at her. Not just glancing, staring. Whispering. Snickering. Maki’s jaw tightened. “They’re just idiots,” he muttered under his breath, mostly to himself. (Y/n) tried to smile. “It’s fine.” But it wasn’t.
The group ordered quickly, or maybe picked up something they’d already called in about, and as they turned to leave, one of them slowed near their table. He looked (Y/n) up and down with open disgust. “Hit the gym, you pig.” The spoon slipped from her fingers, clattering against the plate. Maki felt it before he thought it, heat flooding his chest, his vision sharpening, the world narrowing down to one target. His eyes flashed gold, and he had to squeeze them shut for half a second, forcing it down. (Y/n)’s hands were shaking. “Hey,” Maki said softly, immediately standing, stepping in front of her without thinking. “What did you just say?”
The guy scoffed. “Relax, man. I’m just being honest.” “Apologize,” Maki said, voice low and dangerous. The guy laughed. “Why? She deserves it.” That was it. Maki didn’t even remember deciding; his fist was already moving. He struck the guy square in the chest, pulling his strength at the last second, but even restrained, the impact sent him flying backward into another table. Chairs scraped loudly across the floor, people shouting in surprise. “Holy shit!” “What the hell?!” (Y/n) gasped, standing up. “Maki!”
The guy’s friends spun around instantly, eyes wide before turning furious. “What the fuck did you do?!” One shoved Maki in the shoulder. Another grabbed at his shirt. Maki stumbled back a step, teeth gritted. Normally, he could have thrown all of them off in seconds, but he couldn’t use his full strength. Not here. Not with humans. Not with (Y/n) watching. “Back off,” he growled, hands clenched at his sides, shaking with the effort not to shift. “He had it coming.” “Yeah?” one of them snapped. “You wanna go?” They surged forward all at once. Behind him, (Y/n)’s voice shook. “Maki, please,” He turned his head just enough to meet her eyes. “Hey,” he said quietly, even as fists grabbed at his shirt. “I’ve got you. Okay?”
Then the first punch came from the side. The guys dragged Maki outside before anyone could really react. “Maki!” (Y/n) shouted, standing from her chair, her heart hammering in her chest as she ran out after them. She froze, hands clenched around the edge of the table, watching helplessly as they shoved him into the alley beside the café. Every few seconds, one of them landed a hit, a punch to his ribs, a blow to his shoulder. “Stop,” she whispered, tears burning behind her eyes. “Please…” Then one of them swung harder, catching his cheek. She saw his head snap to the side. Blood dotted the pavement.
That was enough. Something shifted in Maki. He stopped holding back. With one sharp movement, he threw the guy gripping his jacket straight into the wall. Another rushed him, Maki caught his wrist and twisted, sending him stumbling back with a yelp. A third tried to tackle him, but Maki barely moved, just shoved him away hard enough that he fell flat on his back. “What the hell?” “Dude, what is he?!” The group hesitated now, fear flashing across their faces. Even five against one, it was obvious they weren’t winning. “Forget it,” one of them muttered. “Let’s go.” They backed away, then turned and ran.
Maki stood there, chest heaving, hands trembling, not from pain, but from how close he’d come to losing control. “Hey,” he said quickly, turning to (Y/n) as she rushed toward him. “Are you okay?” She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes were wide, fixed on his face. “You’re bleeding,” she whispered. Before he could stop her, she reached up, thumb brushing gently along his cheek. The blood wiped away. But there was no cut. No broken skin. Nothing. Her breath caught. “Maki… how?” His heart dropped into his stomach. He opened his mouth, closed it again, panic scrambling his thoughts for an excuse, makeup? lighting? adrenaline? But nothing felt right. Nothing felt fair to her.
“I,” he exhaled shakily. “Give me a few minutes. Please. I’ll explain. I promise.” She stared at him, confused and shaken, but nodded slowly. “Okay…” He squeezed her hand once before turning back inside. The café was buzzing with voices, people staring, the staff clearly rattled. Maki walked straight to the counter. “I’m so sorry,” he said quickly. “That was my fault. I’ll cover whatever damages there are, tables, chairs, anything.” The barista blinked. “Uh,” “Seriously,” he insisted, pulling out his wallet. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” After making sure everything was paid for, and adding extra, just in case, he grabbed his jacket and (Y/n)’s bag from their table.
She was waiting by the door, arms wrapped around herself. “Ready?” he asked softly. She nodded, though her expression was tense. They stepped outside together and started walking toward Koyomi. The silence between them felt heavy. (Y/n)’s fingers kept twisting into the strap of her bag, her eyes flicking toward him every few seconds like she wanted to ask something but didn’t know how. Maki noticed. “I swear,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, “I’ll explain everything. I just… didn’t want to do it in there.” She swallowed. “Okay.” But her heart was racing, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever he was about to tell her… was going to change everything.
Once they reached Koyomi and stepped inside, Jay’s head snapped up immediately. “Maki,” he gasped, eyes locking onto the dried blood on his cheek and the corner of his lip, then down to his red knuckles. “What the hell happened?” Maki glanced at (Y/n), then gave Jay a small shrug, the kind that clearly said I’ll explain later, it’s about her. Jay pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course it is,” he muttered, then waved him toward the back. “Go. Clean up. Now.” Miyu turned at the sound of the door opening and closing, as she looked up, she froze.
“Maki.” Before he could react, she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down to her height. “Did you seriously get into a fight?” she snapped, hand immediately moving to his face. “I’m fine,” he said quickly. “No, you’re not,” she shot back, gripping his jaw with one hand and his collar with the other, turning his head left and right. “Hold still.” “I said I’m,” “Maki,” she warned, eyes sharp, “if you’re bleeding in my restaurant, you’re dead.” He huffed. “Not bleeding anymore.” “That’s not the point.” She checked his cheek, his lip, then his knuckles. “What did you punch?” “…A guy?” Her eyes narrowed. “One or more?” “…Yeah.” “Maki.” “I said I’m fine, but yeah, there were a few guys.” She released him with a frustrated sigh. “Bathroom. Now. You are not working like this.” “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, already backing away. “Two minutes.” He disappeared down the hall.
(Y/n) slumped against the counter the second he was gone, exhaling shakily, her hands trembling just enough that she had to clasp them together. Miyu turned to her immediately, concern softening her expression. “Okay,” she said gently. “What happened?” (Y/n) hesitated, then sighed. “Some guys came into the café we were at. They were… staring. Then one of them said something to me when they were leaving.” Miyu’s jaw tightened. “What kind of something?” (Y/n) swallowed. “He told me to ‘hit the gym, pig.’” Miyu’s eyes darkened. “Oh.”
“I dropped my spoon,” (Y/n) continued quietly. “And then Maki just… stood up. Told him to apologize. The guy doubled down, and then,” She gestured helplessly. “He punched him. And then the rest jumped in.” Miyu sighed, rubbing her temple. “Yeah… that tracks.” (Y/n) frowned. “You’re not surprised?” “Not really,” Miyu admitted. “Maki’s always had a… strong reaction to people being cruel. Especially to people he cares about.” (Y/n)’s heart twisted at that. “He didn’t even hesitate.” “No,” Miyu said softly. “He wouldn’t.”
(Y/n) looked down at her hands. “And then… his face was bleeding. But when I wiped it away, there was nothing there.” Miyu froze. “…Nothing?” She shook her head. “No cut. No mark. Just gone.” Miyu stared at her for a long moment, expression unreadable, then let out a slow breath. “Okay.” “Okay?” (Y/n) echoed. “That’s it?” Miyu gave her a small, reassuring smile. “That’s it, for now. Maki promised he’d explain, didn’t he?” “…Yeah.” “Then let him,” Miyu said gently. “He’s not the kind of person who lies when it matters.” (Y/n) nodded, though her stomach was tight with nerves.
Just then, the bathroom door opened. Maki stepped back into the kitchen, face clean now, hair still slightly damp from splashing water on it. The blood was gone, but the tension hadn’t left his shoulders. Miyu pointed at him. “Sit. You’re benched until I say otherwise.” “Yes, coach,” he muttered, sliding onto one of the stools. She turned back to (Y/n). “You good?” (Y/n) nodded slowly. “I think so.” Maki glanced between them, then said quietly, “Hey… can we talk? Like. Somewhere private.” Her heart skipped. “…Yeah.” Miyu watched them for a second, then waved a hand. “Storage room’s empty. Go.” Maki stood, hesitating just long enough to make sure (Y/n) was actually following him, she was, before leading her toward the back. The door shut behind them. The silence felt heavier than anything that had happened outside.
(Y/n) leaned against a wall, looking at Maki, expecting an explanation, even more so as she now looked at his clean face, without any traces of a cut or bruise. “How?” she asked quietly. Maki leaned against the opposite wall, taking a deep breath. “Do you want the full and honest truth,” he said, “even if it might shock you, even if you might hate me after?” (Y/n) nodded. “I want the truth. No matter what.” Maki nodded. “Okay.” Then he closed his eyes, letting his wolf eyes glow gold, his fangs sliding out, before opening them again and meeting her gaze.
She gasped. “Maki” Her hand flew to her mouth as she stared at his eyes, then at his teeth. He almost whined when her scent shifted, fear flooding the room. He took a step closer instinctively, but she shook her head, and he instantly stepped back. “Monster,” she whispered. His heart shattered. “I’m not a monster,” he said softly. “I’m just a werewolf… though to you, that might be the same thing.” (Y/n) asked if this was a trick. Maki shook his head. “No. I would never do that to you. I’d never lie about this.”
She looked shocked, unable to process it. Suddenly, she grabbed a glass from the shelf beside her and threw it at him. He caught it instantly, with speed and precision. Maki stared at the glass in his hand as his wolf retreated, his fangs disappearing, his eyes fading back to their warm human brown. His chest ached, his wolf felt the rejection immediately. She hated him. She feared him. And he didn’t know how to fix it. (Y/n) watched as his eyes returned to the ones she had found herself loving, the playful Maki she’d grown to enjoy being around. But she still saw a monster standing in front of her, holding the glass she had thrown. She turned and walked toward the door. “Please don’t tell anyone,” Maki said quietly. She stopped, her hand on the handle. “I won’t.” Then she opened the door and left him there alone. Maki fell to his knees, clutching the glass to his chest as a few tears slipped down his cheeks.
Miyu turned when she heard the storage room door open and close, expecting to see (Y/n) and Maki walk out together, hand in hand, smiling. Instead, only (Y/n) stepped out, silent tears streaming down her face. She brushed past Miyu quickly. “I, I need to go home,” she whispered, not stopping, not looking back. “Hey!” Miyu started, but the girl was already at the door. It swung shut behind her, the bell chiming softly. Miyu stood there for a second, chest tight, her instincts screaming that something had gone very, very wrong.
She turned sharply and pushed through the kitchen doors into the restaurant, spotting Jay and Jungwon near the counter. “Jay,” she called. Jay jogged over immediately. “What’s wrong?” Her voice dropped. “I need you to take over the kitchen for a bit.” He frowned. “Why? What happened?” “Maki,” she said quietly. That was all it took. Jay’s expression shifted instantly. “What about him?” “I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “But (Y/n) just left crying, and he’s still in the storage room.” Jay exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Shit…” Jay nodded. “Go. I’ve got it.” Then, more gently, “Let me know if you need anything.”
Miyu walked down the hallway toward the storage room, her steps slowing the closer she got. Her heart ached before she even opened the door, that quiet, sinking feeling that came whenever one of her pack was hurting and she couldn’t fix it fast enough. She opened the door carefully. “Maki…?” Her breath caught. He was on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around himself, or around something. When she stepped closer, she saw it was the glass. He was clutching it like it was the only thing keeping him grounded, shoulders shaking as silent sobs tore through him. “Oh, baby…” Miyu whispered.
She crossed the room quickly and dropped to her knees in front of him. “Hey. Hey, look at me.” He didn’t. His eyes stayed on the floor. “Maki,” she said again, softer this time, her hand hovering before gently resting on his arm. “Talk to me. What happened?” His lips trembled. For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer at all. Then, barely louder than a breath, he whispered, “She… she called me a monster.” Miyu’s chest tightened painfully. “Oh,” she murmured. “Oh, Maki…” He squeezed the glass harder, knuckles whitening. “I showed her. I told her the truth. And she,” His voice cracked. “She was scared.”
Miyu swallowed hard, blinking fast. “Of course she was,” she said gently. “She’s human. This world is a lot, even for the strongest people. That doesn’t mean she hates you.” “But she looked at me like I wasn’t, like I wasn’t me anymore,” he whispered. “Like I was something else.” Miyu shifted closer, her knees brushing his. “You’re still you,” she said firmly. “You’re still Maki. You’re still my annoying little brother who steals snacks and pretends he didn’t. You’re still the boy who cares too much and loves too hard. Nothing about that changes.”
His breathing stuttered. “She threw this glass at me,” he muttered. “I caught it, and then my wolf just…” He shook his head. “It went away. Like it didn’t want to be there anymore.” That made her heart ache even more. She reached out, gently prying the glass from his hands and setting it aside. Then she cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. His eyes were red, lashes wet, face completely broken open. “You’re not a monster,” she said softly but clearly. “You’re a werewolf. And you’re one of the kindest people I know.” He let out a shaky breath. “She was scared of me.” “I know,” Miyu said. “And that hurts. I won’t pretend it doesn’t. But fear doesn’t mean rejection. It means shock. It means she needs time.” He didn’t answer, just crumpled forward, pressing his forehead into her shoulder.
Miyu wrapped her arms around him instantly, holding him tight. “It’s okay,” she whispered into his hair. “I’ve got you. You don’t have to be strong right now.” His fingers twisted into the fabric of her shirt as he finally broke, sobbing openly. Miyu closed her eyes, rubbing slow circles into his back. After a moment, she pulled out her phone with one hand and typed quickly. Maki. Koyomi. Now. She hit send. Then she tightened her hold on him, rocking him slightly. “You’re not alone,” she murmured. “You hear me? Not now. Not ever.”
Somewhere deep in the pack bond, she felt it, the sharp, wrong emptiness where Maki’s wolf had retreated. And almost immediately after, the familiar pull of another presence rushing closer. Fuma was already on his way. Fuma ran in the second he reached Koyomi, breath uneven, eyes scanning the restaurant until they landed on Jay. “Where’s Maki?” he demanded. Jay didn’t hesitate, pointing down the hallway. “Storage room.” Fuma was already moving.
His chest felt tight, from Miyu’s text, from the strange, hollow pull he’d felt in the pack bond, but nothing prepared him for what he saw when he opened the door. Maki was in Miyu’s arms on the floor, shoulders shaking, face buried against her as he cried. “Hey,” Fuma breathed, his voice breaking instantly. He crossed the room and dropped to his knees beside them. When Maki looked up, eyes red and wet, Fuma didn’t see the nineteen-year-old in front of him. He saw the five-year-old boy he’d found wandering alone, crying for parents who never came back. The kid he’d carried home. The kid he’d raised. The kid who trusted him with everything. Miyu loosened her hold, letting Maki fall forward into Fuma instead. Fuma wrapped his arms around him immediately, pulling him close. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to Maki’s hair. “I’m here.” Maki clutched at his shirt like he used to when he was little, sobs shaking through him.
They stayed like that for a long moment, the room quiet except for Maki’s breathing slowly evening out. Eventually, Miyu stood. “I need to get back to the kitchen,” she said softly. “Don’t leave him alone.” “I won’t,” Fuma promised. When the door closed behind her, Fuma looked down at Maki. “Talk to me.” Maki swallowed hard. “There was a fight… at the café. Some guys said stuff to (Y/n). I lost it.” His voice cracked. “She saw me heal. Then I told her the truth. About being a werewolf.”
Fuma’s jaw tightened slightly, but he said nothing, letting him continue. “She was scared,” Maki whispered. “She called me a monster.” Fuma’s arms tightened around him. “Oh, Maki…” “I ruined everything,” he choked. “She looked at me like I wasn’t me anymore.” “No,” Fuma said firmly, pulling back just enough to look at him. “You didn’t ruin anything. You were honest. That takes courage. And fear doesn’t mean hate, it means shock.” Maki shook his head weakly. “It didn’t feel like that.” “I know,” Fuma said softly, brushing his thumb over Maki’s hair. “But this isn’t over. Not even close. It’s going to be okay. We’ll fix this. Somehow.” Maki leaned into him again, exhausted, broken. Fuma held him tighter. “You’re not alone,” he murmured. “Not now. Not ever.”
After another thirty minutes, Fuma finally spoke. “Let’s go home.” Maki nodded, too tired to answer. They said goodbye to Miyu, Jay, and Jungwon. Jungwon looked at Maki a little longer than the others, sensing something was wrong, more than that, he noticed he couldn’t feel his wolf at all, but he didn’t say anything. He knew this wasn’t the time. After the drive home, Maki collapsed onto the couch, completely exhausted. EJ walked over, clearly about to ask what happened, but Fuma shook his head slightly. “Not now,” he said quietly. “He doesn’t need questions. He needs rest.” EJ nodded in understanding.
Still, he recognized the look on Maki’s face, the exhaustion, the pain. Rejection. Or at least, his wolf believed he’d been rejected. What worried EJ was how fast it was happening. It had taken him days to reach that state. For Maki, it had only taken an hour. As Maki fell asleep on the couch, Fuma and EJ gathered the whole pack, except for Miyu, Jay, and well Jungwon, who were still at Koyomi.
Fuma explained everything, from the fight at the café to (Y/n) seeing Maki heal, to the storage room, ending with, “We need a plan. Fast. Or we might lose him.” Silence fell over the room. Fuma turned to the girls. “Any ideas? You might understand her side better.” Aya frowned, thinking. “I get how shocking it is… but not like that. I was already in love with Kei when I found out.” She shook her head. “Same with me,” Sana said softly, and Willow nodded in agreement. Rocky crossed her arms. “Maybe someone should talk to her. But that could also make it worse. She might feel betrayed that no one warned her.”
Sora sighed. “Honestly? I think the only one who can fix this is Maki himself.” Everyone looked at her. “He’s the one she trusts. He’s the one she feels close to. From her perspective, the sweet guy she likes suddenly got into a violent fight and turned out to be… this. Of course she freaked out.” The room went quiet again. Tara stepped forward, voice quiet but steady. “I felt the same way she probably does now. The first time Heeseung told me about the supernatural, I was confused… hurt… angry… scared. All of it.” She swallowed. “I think the only reason I adjusted back then was because of the mind control. But I remember feeling like I needed time. And proof. Proof that he wasn’t a monster, no matter what the stories said.”
She looked down at her hands. “(Y/n) probably feels the same. She needs to see that Maki is still Maki. He was always a werewolf, the only thing that changed is that now she knows.” The room fell quiet. Everyone looked at Tara, surprised that she’d spoken up, but it made sense. It was logical. And it was the best plan they had. Fuma pulled her into his side, kissing her temple and whispering, “Thank you.” Now all they could do was wait for Maki to wake up, and help him figure out what to do next.
Three hours later, Miyu returned to the village, having been too worried about Maki, so she left Koyomi to Jay and Jungwon, who promised to help, but stay out of the kitchen, or else he might burn the restaurant down. Yuma met her the second she stopped the car, pulling her into a hug and kissing her temple. “Hey… how are you?” “I’m fine,” she said softly, hugging him back. “How’s Maki?” Yuma hesitated. “Not great.” Miyu sighed, tightening her arms around him. “I figured. The way (Y/n) reacted was bad.” She pulled back slightly. “She threw a glass at him.” Yuma’s eyes widened. “She did what?” “Yeah,” Miyu murmured. “Fuma didn’t tell you?” He shook his head, frowning. “No… he didn’t.” “Maybe he forgot,” Miyu said quietly. “Or maybe he didn’t want to make it worse.”
Inside, Maki was awake, but barely. His eyes were dull, unfocused, his skin pale. He looked like someone who’d been sick for weeks, drained of everything. When he tried to speak, his voice came out rough and strained, like his throat was raw. Every wolf in the room could feel it. Maki’s wolf was suffering. It was a feeling far too familiar, the same one they’d felt with EJ, back when he’d refused to accept Sora. Sora tried to use her healing powers on Maki, but nothing worked. The only remedy to a mate’s rejection was their acceptance, and his mate didn’t even know she’d rejected him. Rocky and Sunoo tried combining their magic, hoping to spark something in him, anything, but it was like everything they did just bounced right off. “Should we call (Y/n)?” Sana asked quietly. “It’s only been a few hours, but maybe we should check on her, too.” Aya shook her head. “No. She won’t be feeling this. She’s human, she’s in shock, probably confused, but she’s not dying. She needs time. And space.” She looked back at Maki. “Tomorrow, we can think about talking to her. For now, our priority is him.”
Tara sat beside Fuma on the couch, close enough that their knees brushed, but even that small contact didn’t seem to ground him. His leg bounced relentlessly, hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles had gone pale. His jaw was clenched, eyes fixed on nothing in particular, like he was replaying every moment of the last few days in his head. “I should’ve been there,” he muttered suddenly. “I should’ve warned him. Prepared him. I knew this could happen.” His voice cracked with frustration. “He’s nineteen, Tara. He’s a kid. And I let him walk straight into this alone.” She reached out, placing her hand over his fists, gently forcing his fingers to loosen. “Fuma,” she said softly, “look at me.”
He didn’t at first. His breathing was shallow, uneven, chest rising too fast for someone who hadn’t moved in twenty minutes. “Fuma,” she repeated, firmer this time. He finally looked at her, eyes wild with guilt. “He’s breaking,” he whispered. “I can feel it. His wolf’s shutting down and I,” His voice dropped. “I raised him. This is on me.” Tara shook her head immediately. “No. It’s not.” She slid closer, pressing her forehead to his temple. “You’ve done everything you could. You always do everything you can. But you can’t protect him from every kind of pain.” He let out a rough breath. “I was supposed to protect him from this.” “You couldn’t,” she said gently. “No one could. Not even EJ. Not even Miyu. This was always something only Maki could face.” She pulled his hands apart and laced her fingers through his. “And he didn’t fail. He told her the truth. That took courage.” Fuma swallowed hard, his grip tightening around her hands instead. “And look where it got him.” “Right now?” she said quietly. “It got him hurt. But that doesn’t mean it ends here.”
He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I should’ve seen the signs. I should’ve told him to wait. Or told her myself. Or,” His breathing hitched. “I should’ve done something.” Tara moved, sitting sideways on his lap without asking, arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling his face into her neck. “Hey,” she murmured. “Hey. Stop.” He froze at the contact, then slowly sagged into her, forehead pressed to her collarbone. “This isn’t your fault,” she whispered. “Things go wrong sometimes. Even when everyone does their best. What matters isn’t what you should’ve done, it’s what we do now.” His arms came around her tightly, like he was afraid if he let go, he’d fall apart. “I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted, voice muffled against her shoulder. “You don’t have to fix everything,” she said softly. “You just have to be here. For him. And right now, for yourself.”
He pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes red, tired. “How are you so calm about this?” She shrugged lightly. “I don’t know. I’m not calm. I’m scared too.” She brushed her thumb under his eye, gently. “But I’ve learned that panic never helps. And… before Heeseung, I was studying psychology. Maybe some of that’s still buried in my brain somewhere.” He gave a weak, breathless laugh. “Of course you were.” She smiled faintly. “Guess it’s finally useful.” He pulled her back into him, holding her tighter now, like she was the only thing keeping him upright. “You’re amazing,” he murmured into her hair.
The night passed in restless silence. No one slept properly, doors creaked, footsteps padded through hallways, and every few hours someone checked on Maki, who lay awake on the couch staring at the ceiling, his wolf silent inside him. The house felt wrong without its usual warmth. Breakfast wasn’t much better. Maki barely touched his food, pushing his eggs around the plate while the others sat scattered around the kitchen, all tense in their own ways. Even Jungwon seemed subdued, for about five minutes.
“I have an idea,” Jungwon said suddenly, brightening. “What if I sneak up on (Y/n), scare her, and then Maki shows up and saves her? Instant hero moment.” Maki’s head snapped up. “No.” His voice came out harsher than he meant to, but his wolf didn’t stir behind it, and that somehow made it worse. “You don’t have to growl,” Jungwon said quickly. “I was just suggesting,” “No,” Maki repeated, quieter now. “Absolutely not.” “That’s a terrible idea,” Sana said immediately. “And traumatizing,” Sora added. “She’s human, not a side quest,” Aya muttered. Jungwon lifted his hands. “Okay, okay, but technically, she wouldn’t even know it was me. I can shapeshift.” Everyone blinked. “You can what?” Sunoo asked. “Not animals or objects,” Jungwon clarified. “Just… face shape, hair color, stuff like that. Enough to be unrecognizable.”
Nicholas tilted his head thoughtfully. “I mean… that might actually,” Rocky smacked his shoulder. “No. We don’t scare people into liking us.” Nicholas winced. “Ow. Okay, fair.” Maki stayed silent, shoulders tense, eyes fixed on his plate. Willow noticed. “Hey,” she said gently, turning to him. “What do you want to do? Because right now it kind of feels like we’re all deciding for you.”
He hesitated. “I… don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t want to pressure her. I don’t want her to feel trapped or scared or like she has to forgive me.” Aya leaned forward. “You don’t have to pressure her. But you should talk to her. Just… talk. Let her see you’re still you.” Maki swallowed. “What if she doesn’t want to see me?” “Then you respect that,” Aya said softly. “But at least she’ll know you tried. And she deserves the truth, not silence.” The table fell quiet after that, everyone looking at Maki. He nodded faintly. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll talk to her.”
~~~
The next day, Maki woke up before sunrise and walked to (Y/n)’s apartment, Miyu’s text with the address burning in his pocket like it might disappear if he didn’t keep checking it. He felt awful, emotionally, physically, in every way possible. His wolf was fading, and so was he. Even walking felt heavier than it should have, as if gravity had doubled overnight. Still, he made it. He could hear her inside before he even reached the door, soft footsteps, a cupboard opening, the quiet clink of something being set down. His hearing still worked, at least. Seemed like the only part of him that did anymore.
He stood there for a moment, staring at the door, chest tight. She could see him through the peephole. She might not open. She might tell him to leave. But he had to try. He lifted his hand and knocked. Inside, everything went quiet. He could hear her stop moving, like she was thinking about who it could be. Then her voice came through the door, tight and distant. “I don’t want to talk to you, Maki.” His chest ached like something had cracked open inside him. He knocked again, softer this time. “Please,” he said, voice low, rough around the edges.
He could hear her steps now, closer to the door. Not opening it, just standing there. “I just… I just need one minute,” he said quietly. “That’s all. One minute.” Silence. He rested his forehead against the door, eyes closing. “Please,” he whispered again, barely loud enough to reach her, praying to the moon she’d give him the smallest chance, just enough to explain. Suddenly, he heard the lock click. He straightened immediately, pulling away from the door just as it opened. She stood there, looking up at him, and he could tell instantly she’d been crying; her eyes were red, glassy, exhausted. There was still fear in them, a tremor she couldn’t hide, but it wavered when she took in how bad he looked, like someone barely standing upright, like a walking corpse.
“Can I… come inside?” he asked quietly. (Y/n) wanted to say no. She really did. But something in her also wanted answers, wanted to understand, so instead she stepped aside, letting him pass. Inside, she gestured toward the couch. He sat down slowly. She took the armchair across from him instead, keeping her distance. Silence settled between them. Maki tried to speak, but every breath felt heavy, like pain crowded his throat the second he tried to push words past it. He stared at the floor, hands clenched together, searching for the strength to start.
“I’m sorry,” he said. That was his start. He’d spent the entire night thinking about what to say, replaying conversations in his head, but now that he was actually here, sitting in front of her, his mind was empty. He wanted to say the right thing. He just didn’t know what the right thing was. Her first question caught him so off guard that he started coughing. “Do you eat people?” she blurted out. “Is that why you work at the restaurant?” Maki shook his head frantically, trying to say no through his coughing fit. When he finally got it under control, he looked at her, baffled. “No. Why would you ask that?” She shrugged. “Some werewolves in fiction do that.” He sighed softly. “Yeah, some are portrayed that way. But in reality, werewolves protect humans. Mostly from vampires. Though… It’s not as bad as it was a couple of centuries ago.”
“Okay,” (Y/n) said slowly. “Does Miyu know?” He nodded. “Yeah. Yuma too. He’s my brother, and a werewolf. Actually… all of my brothers are.” She nodded, processing that. “That makes sense,” she murmured, then looked back up at him. “Then why didn’t you tell me before? Why did you let me go almost two months without knowing?” Maki took a deep breath, bracing himself before answering. He said that he wanted to tell her, he really did, he just didn’t want to scare her. He never meant for her to find out like that. But telling her he was a werewolf also meant telling her something else, and that was what scared him most.
She frowned. “What do you mean?” “Can I… explain that later?” he asked quietly. (Y/n) sighed, frustration flashing across her face, but she nodded. “Fine.” Then she asked, “Does Jay know?” Maki nodded. “Yeah. Jay is,” He hesitated. “Um. A vampire.” (Y/n) shot to her feet. “What?” “He’s a vampire,” Maki said quickly, clearing his throat, “but he’s nice. He’s Miyu’s best friend. He saved her from a rogue vampire years ago, and they’ve been close ever since.” “So he’s not going to try and drink my blood?” she asked sharply. Maki shook his head. “No. Jay only drinks animal blood, and not by killing them. He has a contract with one of our meat suppliers. They think it’s for the restaurant, but it’s not.” (Y/n) nodded slowly, sitting back down. “Okay.”
(Y/n) asked why Maki had been so friendly to her. “I’m friendly to everyone,” he said. “That’s not what I mean,” she replied. “Why did you treat me differently from Miyu? I assume she’s human, too. Why were you always helping me? Did you think I couldn’t do things on my own? That I’m fragile?” “No,” Maki said immediately. “That’s not it at all. I was doing that because I was… kind of flirting with you. I’m not great with words, so I thought if I helped you out, maybe you’d like me.” “Why?” she asked quietly. “Why would someone like you,” she gestured to his body, “like someone like me?” Then she gestured to herself.
Maki felt frustration twist in his chest. Had she really not understood? He said, “Why wouldn’t I like you?” finally finding some strength in his voice, like his wolf felt the hurt in hers and wanted to prove her wrong. “Because no one likes me,” she said, anger and hurt bleeding into her voice. Her eyes glossed over as she continued. “Since I was ten, I’ve been alone. No friends. No one wanted to be friends with the loser girl who spent all her time baking and eating everything herself because she had no one to share it with. So I gained weight. And anyone who’s ever shown interest in me only did it for a dare, or as a joke. So why should I believe you would actually like me?”
Maki stood up from the couch and walked over, sinking down onto his knees in front of her. He gently rested his hands on her knees. “I don’t see you that way,” he said softly. “I see the person who lights up a room. Your laugh is contagious; it makes my day better even when it’s been terrible. You’re warm and kind. You’re passionate. You’re cute when you’re deciding how to decorate a cake. You’re beautiful when you smile. Your eyes sparkle when you talk about baking or your favorite movie.” His voice wavered slightly. “I see a beautiful young woman who can only make my life better.” (Y/n) stared into his eyes, searching for a lie, anything, but she found nothing. Slowly, she lifted her hands to his cheeks, leaned in, and kissed him.
He reciprocated in a heartbeat, reaching up with one hand to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing gently under her eye as if he could wipe away every tear she’d ever cried. The kiss tasted salty from them, soft and desperate all at once. When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers. “Please don’t talk about yourself like you don’t matter,” he whispered. “Like you don’t have any worth. Because you do. You matter so much. Especially to me.” He stayed there on his knees, not wanting to move away from her.
(Y/n) frowned slightly, her hands still resting on his shoulders. “Why do you look… terrible?” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Because I can’t push this off anymore. It’s time I tell you the full truth. I would’ve yesterday, but… I didn’t get the chance.” She looked down at the floor, remembering the word she’d thrown at him, monster, but she stayed quiet, letting him speak. “Do you know how in Twilight,” he started carefully, “Jacob imprints on Renesmee?” She nodded slowly, confused. “Yeah…?” “Well,” Maki continued, “real werewolves have something similar. It’s not called imprinting; it’s called a mate bond. Every werewolf has one person they’re destined to fall in love with. The only person they can ever truly love.” His voice dropped. “And if that person rejects them… the werewolf loses their life.”
“The way you reacted yesterday,” he said quietly, “it felt like rejection. So my wolf… kind of started dying. Which means I am too.” He swallowed. “That’s why I came here today. To try and fix this. To ask you to give me a chance.” (Y/n)’s eyes widened as she stared at him. “So… I’m your mate?” Maki nodded. “Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t really clarify that part. You are.” “Wait,” she said suddenly, panic creeping into her voice. “You’re dying?” He nodded, then quickly shook his head. “Well… it kind of depends on what you say now.” She blinked, trying to process everything. “So that’s why you didn’t tell me you were a werewolf?”
He nodded again. “If I told you that, you’d find out about my brothers. And then about the mate bond. And then I’d have to tell you all of this way too early. I never wanted to pressure you into anything.” Her shoulders sagged. “I’m… sorry. For calling you a monster. It was just… a lot.” He gave a small, tired smile. “I get it. I probably reacted the same way to Jay when I found out he was a vampire.” He paused. “And Jungwon, too. He’s a vampire as well. That was only like… a week ago.”
Maki stood up slowly, feeling a little stronger, his wolf stirring just beneath the surface, not fully awake, but breathing again, alive in a way it hadn’t been since yesterday. He looked at her, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for springing all of this on you,” he said quietly. “And for starting that fight yesterday. It’s just… hearing people be mean to you drives me insane. And even more when you talk like you don’t matter.” His voice softened. “When you’re everything to me.” (Y/n) wiped away the last tear clinging to her lashes, letting out a shaky breath. “I was… impressed,” she admitted. “No one’s ever stood up for me like that. No one except my grandma. She was the only one who really cared.”
She looked down at her hands. “So I think… over the years, I just got used to being treated badly. I locked myself away. It’s easier to be alone by choice than to give someone the chance to leave you.” Her voice wavered. “And yesterday… I think I saw a chance to run from you. Because what I was really afraid of was accepting that you care. That you actually like me.” She glanced up at him, eyes shining. “So it was easier to call you a monster. Because if I chose to run, then you couldn’t be the one to hurt me.” Maki reached out a hand. She hesitated only a second before taking it, letting him pull her to her feet. He drew her close, close enough that she leaned into his chest, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. “I would never hurt you,” he said softly. “Not intentionally. Never.” That familiar voice crept into her mind, he’s lying, you’re not good enough, but she pushed it away. It was scary, and she still didn’t know what came next, but she chose to trust him. “I know,” she whispered.
Maki exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for hours and wrapped his arms around her tighter. “Are you… okay with it?” he asked. “Me being a werewolf and all.” She thought for a moment. “It’s still shocking,” she admitted. Then her lips twitched. “But kind of fun too. Do you, like… act like a dog?” Maki sighed dramatically, hugging her tighter. “I wouldn’t say that,” he muttered. “But the girls definitely would. They say all of us act like dogs.” (Y/n) laughed softly into his chest. After they sat down on the couch together, (Y/n) asked softly, “Are all the girls human?” Maki shook his head. “Nope. Aya, Miyu, Sana, Tara, and Willow are human. Sora’s a vampire, Rocky’s a witch, oh, and Sunoo’s a wizard, although he’s not one of the girls.” (Y/n) blinked and laughed. “That’s… a lot.” He chuckled. “You get used to it.”
She shifted slightly beside him. “Do you think they’ll like me?” Maki turned toward her, smiling. “They already do. A lot. They’ve been really open to everyone who’s joined the pack.” Then he paused. “Although, fair warning, Rocky will probably attack you with fabric swatches and outfit ideas. It’s easier to just go along with it than try to say no. The witch always gets her way.” (Y/n) laughed. “Yeah, I noticed. She was pretty pushy when we met at the pond.” Maki laughed with her. “True, but her heart’s in the right place.”
They sat on the couch talking for an hour or two, eventually ending up cuddling. (Y/n) lay against Maki, her back to his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting lightly atop her head. He never wanted to move. She was telling him about the first time she tried making her own recipe and how catastrophic it turned out, too much baking soda, a bitter cake, and an oven she had to scrub for nearly a week. Her hands moved animatedly as she talked, making him smile softly into her hair. Maki was back to his original warmth and strength, no longer fading, his wolf finally calm and alive again as she accepted the mating bond. She might not have said it out loud, but she didn’t need to, her actions were more than enough.
Eventually, when she checked the time, she shot out of his arms, loudly saying they were going to be late for work. Maki said it was fine, that Miyu and Jay wouldn’t be angry. (Y/n) turned to him, slightly offended, saying she cared, she took work seriously, and she thought he did too. Maki stood up straight, jokingly saluting. “Yes, ma’am, I do.” She threw a few things at him, telling him to pack them into her bag by the door. He caught every single one, stuffing them neatly inside while she rushed to the bathroom to change out of her pajamas and into work clothes. Right then, Fuma sent him a mindlink. How is it going? It’s okay. We’re good, Maki replied. Fuma sighed in relief. See you later.
As (Y/n) came back, Maki smiled and reached out one hand, waiting for her to take it. After slipping on her shoes, she did, laughing as she said she never thought he’d be so clingy. He started to pull back, about to apologize, but she stopped him, tightening her grip. “I like it,” she said. “So don’t stop.” He laughed, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Good. I won’t. I can be even clingier if you want.” She laughed. “Let’s start with just this.”
As they walked toward Koyomi, (Y/n) suddenly stopped. Maki turned to her. “Did you forget something?” She shook her head. “Wait, if I accept all this mate business… does that mean I have to move?” Maki shrugged. “Well, everyone else did, and we’ve got space, but you don’t have to unless you want to. And we can wait. You don’t have to move tomorrow.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Nah, let’s pack my bags tonight. I hate that apartment, it’s awful, moldy, and run-down. I’ve been looking for somewhere new, but nothing’s ever in my budget.” Maki laughed. “Perfect timing then,” he said as they kept walking.
Once they reached Koyomi, Miyu, Jay, and Jungwon were already there, opening up. Miyu smiled the moment she saw them holding hands, while Jungwon waved enthusiastically, then frowned when neither of them waved back. (Y/n) noticed. “Is that… normal vampire behavior?” Jay sighed, then laughed. “No, that’s just a Jungwon trait. He loves attention and gets jealous easily, but he’s harmless.” Miyu turned to (Y/n). “Are you okay with everything?” (Y/n) nodded. “Yeah. It’s still a lot to grasp, but I’m okay. And… sorry about yesterday.” Miyu waved her hand. “It’s fine. What’s the supernatural world without a little drama?”
Jay smiled. “Alright, let’s get to work. The whole pack is coming by in a few hours, so we need a lot of food and cakes. Plus, we’ve got a big reservation for a ten-year-old’s birthday party.” “Yes, boss,” Maki said with a chuckle as they headed into the kitchen, all of them getting to work, (Y/n) baking, Miyu and Maki cooking, Jay and Jungwon setting up tables. Once the pack came by, Fuma felt a wave of relief crash over him when he saw Maki smiling, laughing, and looking like himself again. His shoulders finally relaxed from the tight, tense position they’d been stuck in since yesterday. Tara leaned in beside him, her voice soft but smug. “See? I told you he’d be fine.” Fuma let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and leaned closer to her. “You’re really good at this stuff. Maybe you should find a job where you can actually use that brain.” Tara smiled. “Yeah… maybe.”
Kei glanced over at Sana and Jo. “So, how are the projects going? I haven’t heard much.” Sana straightened a little. “They’re actually going really well. Aya and Harua have been helping a lot, correcting things and teaching me stuff.” Jo nodded. “Yeah. I turned my paintings in yesterday. I’m really happy with them, especially after Rocky helped me find this perfect red quilt. I used it as Red Riding Hood’s hood; it was a bit extra, but I’m hoping it gets me an A.” Nicholas laughed. “I can’t imagine being that good at school.” Taki groaned dramatically. “So you’re saying I inherited this horrible school brain from you?” Nicholas gasped, clutching his chest. “Wow. Rude.” Then he laughed loudly, and EJ added, “You should’ve spent more time with me instead. I’m the smart one.” Taki rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway, the easy warmth of the pack finally back where it belonged.
Harua joked as he sat beside Taki, “Guess it’s your turn next,” nudging him lightly. Taki sighed. “Yeah… lucky me,” he muttered, clearly not thrilled. Sora tilted her head. “Why? Isn’t finding your mate supposed to be a dream?” “Of course it is,” Taki said, rubbing his face. “But I’m still a broken wolf. Sure, I’m better, but I’m not healed. How am I supposed to find my mate when I’m not even whole?” Rocky crossed her arms thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s exactly what you need. The mate bond might be the missing piece. It was for me, it got rid of my oracle side.” Taki opened his mouth, clearly considering it… then scoffed instead. “Maybe my life isn’t some stupid fairy tale.” Yuma’s voice sharpened. “Just because you’re worried doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole.” Taki looked away. “Sorry,” he muttered. Willow leaned toward Harua, whispering, “Is he always like this?” Harua shook his head quietly. “No. But he’s got his reasons.” She nodded, understanding.
A moment later, Miyu, Maki, and (Y/n) came out of the kitchen and joined the group. Maki cleared his throat slightly. “Um… everyone, this is my mate.” (Y/n) smiled nervously, and the room immediately filled with grins, clapping, and overlapping voices. “Welcome to the family!” “About time!” (Y/n) laughed, cheeks warming, while Maki squeezed her hand, finally looking completely at peace.
~~~
A few days later, the whole pack was helping (Y/n) move from her apartment to the pack’s village, though Rocky was less focused on lifting boxes and more focused on taking (Y/n)’s measurements. “Arms up. No, higher. Turn. Okay, now favorite colors?” Rocky rattled off, tape measure snapping lightly against her fingers. “Warm tones or cool? Linen or silk? Structured or flowy? Actually, don’t answer yet, I need vibes.” (Y/n) blinked. “I,” “And patterns! Florals? Plaid? Solids with personality?” Rocky gasped. “Oh my god, I can already see the outfits.” Meanwhile, everyone else was actually moving.
Once (Y/n) finally escaped the witch’s clutches, she found Maki near the doorway and immediately wrapped her arms around him. “I can’t believe everyone’s helping,” she said into his chest. “This feels… unreal.” He chuckled, arms circling her easily. “This is just how a pack is. When one of us needs help, everyone shows up. No questions asked.” She leaned back, looking around the apartment.
Jo and Kei were carrying her couch out the door like it weighed nothing, chatting casually as if they weren’t lifting half her living room. Harua and Willow were carefully wrapping her paintings in bubble wrap, Willow labeling each one neatly. Nicholas and EJ were dismantling her dining table, Nicholas dramatically groaning about missing one screw while EJ laughed at him. In the kitchen, Aya, Miyu, Sora, and Sana packed silverware and porcelain with surprising efficiency. Tara and Fuma taped shut boxes of clothes, Fuma handing Tara labels while she organized them by room. Outside, Yuma and Taki stacked boxes into cars and trailers with practiced ease, making sure nothing would tip or shift. Rocky suddenly called from the hallway, “(Y/n)! Important question, do you emotionally identify with these curtains, or are we burning them metaphorically?” (Y/n) laughed. “I think it’s time to get back to work.” Maki smiled. “Be careful,” he said lightly, before bending down to grab a few boxes and carrying them out after her.
By the time the sun dipped low, painting the windows orange and gold, the apartment stood empty. Boxes gone. Furniture gone. Echoes replacing what had once been clutter. All that remained… was the cleaning. Everyone stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the dust outlines where furniture had once been. Nicholas broke the silence first. “So… whose apartment was this again?” “It was mine,” (Y/n) said dryly, hands on her hips. “Ah,” he nodded. “Right. Tragic.” Taki flopped dramatically onto the bare floor. “I vote we leave it. Builds character.” Aya gave him a look. “It builds a fine.” Fuma rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve been lifting things all day…” “And I just did emotional labor,” Rocky added, holding up her tape measure like evidence. (Y/n) laughed. “You interrogated me about fabrics.” “Exactly. Exhausting.”
Rocky’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Oh.” Everyone groaned in unison. “No,” Yuma warned. “Absolutely not.” “Yes,” Rocky countered, already rolling up her sleeves. “Think about it. One small spell. Efficient. Elegant. Sparkly.” “It’s never just small,” Harua muttered. Rocky ignored him, spinning toward Willow. “I can’t do it alone, though. I’ll need stabilizing magic.” Willow tilted her head, considering. “Sunoo?” “Sunoo,” Rocky confirmed. Willow was already pulling out her phone. “On it.”
Ten minutes later, the front door burst open, and Sunoo hurried in, slightly out of breath. “I came as fast as I could. What are we blowing up?” “Nothing!” (Y/n) squeaked. “Hopefully,” EJ added. Rocky clapped her hands. “Okay! Focus. Cleanse-and-polish charm, layered with minor restoration. Sunoo, you handle the energy flow, anchor me.” Sunoo grinned. “I’m on it.” They moved to the center of the apartment. Rocky closed her eyes, violet light beginning to swirl around her fingers. Sunoo’s magic shimmered into existence, soft baby blue, almost mist-like. The air hummed. Dust lifted from the floor in spirals. Stains faded. Smudges vanished from windows as if erased by invisible hands. The faint scuffs along the walls smoothed over, paint brightening. For a moment, the apartment glowed, violet and blue weaving together like northern lights. Then the light faded. Silence.
Everyone blinked. The place looked… Spotless. Cleaner than it had any right to be. (Y/n) slowly turned in a circle. “I think it’s cleaner now than when they built it.” Sunoo brushed imaginary dust off his shoulder. “You’re welcome.” Rocky beamed proudly. “Magic housekeeping services, available on request.” Aya walked into the kitchen, ran a finger along the counter, and inspected it. “Not even a speck.” Nicholas whistled. “We should start charging.” Taki stood up, stretching. “See? I said we shouldn’t clean. The universe handled it.” “The universe being Rocky,” Yuma corrected. Rocky bowed dramatically. Fuma clapped his hands once. “Alright. It’s done.” There was a moment, quiet and soft, as (Y/n) looked around the now-empty apartment. The place that had held years of loneliness. Of baking alone. Of quiet nights. It didn’t hurt as much to leave it now. Maki stepped up beside her, gently brushing his fingers against hers. “You okay?” he asked softly. She nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yeah. I think I am.”
Jo suddenly raised both arms. “Pizza?” “Yes,” several voices answered immediately. “Pizza and celebration at the pack house,” Miyu declared. “And Sunoo’s invited,” Willow added. Sunoo gasped. “An official invite? I feel honored.” “You earned it,” Rocky said. “Magical janitor privileges.” “And Jay and Jungwon,” Aya added casually. Nicholas smirked. “Jungwon practically lives with us already.” It was true. The younger vampire had been staying with them for far longer than just ‘a few days’; he’d been helping at Koyomi, lounging on the couches, laughing too loudly at night. Somehow, without anyone formally saying it, he’d just… become part of it. And no one minded. He was kind. A little dramatic. Very affectionate. Surprisingly helpful. Mostly harmless.
“Let’s go before I collapse,” Sana said. They all filed out together, laughter echoing down the hallway. (Y/n) took one last glance at the apartment, then turned away without regret. Her hand stayed firmly in Maki’s as they walked toward the cars. Toward the pack house. Toward something new.
~~~
As the snow melted away and spring flowers slowly bloomed through the grass, new beginnings followed close behind. The pack was growing, not just in numbers, but in warmth, in laughter, in the quiet certainty that none of them were alone anymore. While mate bonds could be messy, emotional, and terrifying at times, fate always seemed to know exactly what it was doing in the end.
Maki found his mate. (Y/n) found someone who loved her, truly, gently, and in doing so, she found something else too: friends, family, belonging. Things she’d never truly had before. Their story was only just beginning. Just like the flowers waiting beneath the soil, there was so much more to come for all of them.
~~~ The End ~~~
And that’s the end of this part!
How do we feel? Do we love it, hate it?
We got to meet Jungwon as well, fortunately as a friend and not a foe.
Next up is obviously Taki, as many of you suspected, he will be the one ending this series since his story has been building throughout the entire series. I hope you’re excited! Do you have any theories about how he’ll meet his mate? Or what will happen? I love seeing you guys theorize!
Please give me name suggestions for Maki’s mate! I feel like I’m running out of ideas for names!
Ahhhhhh I loved ittttt!!!! I read this bit by bit over the last two three days and it kept me entertained and my mind fantasizing✨I love how you portrayed Maki, I could really see him in my inner eye, showing of his muscles in a (not so) subtle way😂😂 Mona could be a pretty name perhaps!
I’m super super excited for Taki’s story and can’t wait to explore his world building! The longer the better heheh
when your impossibly good luck vanishes overnight after kissing a stranger at a masquerade ball, a fortune teller confirms what sounds impossible: you transferred it to someone who needed it more. now you have to find jungwon who accidentally stole your fortune, except you start to think that maybe meeting him was the luckiest thing that ever happened to you.
⭑ pairing: jungwon x fem!reader | ⭑ genre: luck swap au, romcom, fluff, crack, strangers to lovers, slowburn, roommates to lovers; smut (mdni) | ⭑ playlist: just my luck - mcfly; no control - one direction; t-shirt weather - circa waves; whisper for the choir - the fratellis; just like a movie - wallows | ⭑ word count: 33k
⭑ warnings: smut (mdni!!!!), unemployment lollll; soft down jungwon, switch jungwon, mutual pining, power play, praise kink, oral m&f receiving, piv, light spanking, protected sex
⭑ ronnie's notes: guys i’ve been keeping this plot hostage for like six months at least i actually started writing it as a smau but then i gave up because i got lazy just like with every smau i’ve ever made (except nicest guy i miss my child then i sat there and thought wait this would work way better as a written fic right??? idk it just made sense in my head!!! so anyway she is finally here 🫶 my second jungwon fic!!! i really hope you guys like it because i’m lowkey attached to this one 🥹 it’s inspired by the movie just my luck btw!! and if you’ve never seen it i SWEAR it’s sooo cute you need to watch it. mcfly was one of my favorite bands growing up so that movie has a special place in my heart and i basically wrote mcfly as enhypen LMAOO anyway that’s it i hope you enjoy the story 💌
YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN LUCKY. Every morning you wake up exactly one minute before your alarm goes off. The coffee shop always has your order ready when you walk in even though you never call ahead. You find money in jacket pockets you forgot about. Traffic lights turn green right as you approach them. When it rains, it starts the moment you step inside. Your friends joke that you were born under a lucky star, but it's more than that. It's like the universe decided you were its favorite, and it's been making sure you know it ever since.
And this morning is no different. You're running late for work — or you would be, if the subway train hadn't been delayed by exactly the amount of time you needed to make it to the platform. You slip through the closing doors with seconds to spare, and someone immediately stands up offering you their seat. At work, your boss announces that the company's landing a huge new client, and they want you on the project. You find a twenty dollar bill on the ground during your lunch break.
It's not magic, it's just how your life works. And across the city, Yang Jungwon is having the worst day of his life.
Actually, that's not quite right. He's having the worst day of his life so far, which is saying something, because yesterday was pretty bad too. And the day before that. And the day before that too.
Jungwon is a band manager, which sounds cooler than it actually is. He represents ENHYPEN: Jay, Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jake; four guys with genuine talent and absolutely zero luck in the industry. They've been trying to get a record deal for two years now, and every single opportunity has somehow slipped through their fingers at the last possible second. Like today, he was supposed to have a meeting with a major label. Supposed to, because Jungwon woke up to a dead phone battery (he'd definitely plugged it in), missed his alarm, and then got stuck in traffic caused by a water main break that, according to the news, had a "one in a million chance of happening there." By the time he arrived at the venue, drenched from the sudden downpour that started the second he left his apartment, the label executives were already gone. "They waited thirty minutes," the venue manager told him, not unkindly. "I'm sorry, man."
Now Jungwon sits in a coffee shop, dripping rainwater onto the floor and staring at his laptop screen. His email inbox is full of rejections. His coffee tastes burnt, the cafe's wifi keeps cutting out. And when his phone buzzes with a text from Jay: Howd it go? Jungwon doesn't have the heart to respond yet. He runs a hand through his wet hair and closes his eyes. Somewhere out there, he thinks, someone must be using up all the good luck in the world. Somewhere out there, someone has to be.
And as you arrive at the office, the elevator dings right as you approach it and doors slide open like it was waiting just for you. You step inside and you continue up to the fifth floor, where the marketing agency you work for occupies the entire level. The glass doors swing open and you're immediately hit with the chaos that comes with planning high profile events in the city. Your desk is right by the window, which you'd worried about when you first started because of the glare, but somehow the sun never hits your screen and you have a fire view of the city skylines.
You drop your bag on your chair and head to the break room for water. Sunoo is already there, fighting with the coffee machine. "This thing hates me," he says while smacking the side of it. "I swear it only works for you."
"Want me to try?"
"Please." You press the same buttons he was pressing and the machine immediately whirs to life, dispensing espresso into his cup. Sunoo stares at it. "I don't understand your life."
"Maybe you just have to ask nicely."
"I literally said please three times." He takes his coffee anyway shaking his head. "Did you see the email? We have a meeting with Director Kim in twenty minutes."
You hadn't seen it, but when you check your phone the notification is right there, sent ten minutes ago. Back at your desk, you pull up the project files you'd been working on yesterday. Yunjin rolls her chair over from the adjacent desk, holding out a glazed donut. "They were giving these out in the lobby. Grabbed you one."
"Thanks, Yunjin." You take it and it's still warm. "You're the best."
"I know." She grins. "So, any idea what the meeting's about?"
"No clue."
"I heard it's something big," Riki says, appearing behind you both. The intern is holding a stack of folders that looks about two seconds from toppling over. "Like, really big."
"Everything's big to you," Sunoo says. "You've been here for three weeks."
"Three weeks and two days," Riki corrects. "And I'm just saying, Director Kim only calls meetings like this when it's important."
He's not wrong. Director Kim usually communicates through email or quick desk drop bys. Formal meetings mean something significant is happening. So you make your way to the conference room, it has floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. Director Kim is already there, sitting at the head of the table with her tablet and a cup of tea. "Good, you're all here," she says as you file in. "Sit down. We need to talk about HYBE." You exchange glances with Sunoo. HYBE is huge — one of the biggest music labels in the industry. Your agency has worked with them before, but only on smaller projects. Director Kim pulls up something on the screen at the front of the room. It's a preliminary event outline, and the budget number at the bottom makes your eyes widen.
"HYBE is launching a new initiative," she continues. "They're hosting a masquerade ball to introduce upcoming artists, network with industry professionals, and make a statement about their brand direction. They want it elegant, exclusive, and flawless. The event is in six weeks." Six weeks is tight for something this scale, but not impossible. "If we get this, it'll be the biggest project we have handled all year." Director Kim looks directly at you. "I want you to lead this."
The words hang in the air for a moment. "Me?" you ask.
"You." She sets down her tablet. "You've been here for two years, and every event you've touched has gone off without a single issue. I don't know how you do it, but clients love you, vendors love you, and somehow everything just works when you're in charge. Sunoo, you'll be second lead. Yunjin, you're on creative direction and vendor coordination. Riki, you'll support where needed and learn as much as possible. But this is her project. She makes the final calls."
You feel Yunjin nudge your foot under the table, a silent congratulations. "The masquerade theme is non negotiable," Director Kim continues, pulling up mood boards on the screen. "HYBE wants sophisticated, mysterious and high end. Think Venetian carnival meets modern luxury. There will be approximately three hundred guests, including artists, executives, press, and investors. The venue needs to be secured by end of this week," she says. "Catering, entertainment, decor, security, invitations — all of it has to be perfect. HYBE's reputation is on the line, which means ours is too." She looks at each of you in turn. "I'm not going to sugarcoat this. It's going to be intense. But if anyone can pull this off, it's this team." Her eyes land on you again. "Especially you. I've seen you make impossible things happen. So, what do you say?"
What do you say? This is the kind of opportunity people wait years for. The kind that could define your entire career. "I'm in," you say obviously.
Back at your desk, you open your email, and sure enough, there's already a message waiting from Director Kim with all the project files. You start scrolling through, taking in venue options and budget breakdowns. Sunoo grins next to you. "What do you think the odds are that everything goes smoothly?"
You laugh. "Pretty good, probably." And you mean it, because things always do. And that was the exact opposite of how things usually happened to Jungwon.
The cafe kicked him out after the wifi died for the third time — apparently, his presence was "disrupting the router," which doesn't even make sense but also sounds exactly like something that would happen to him. Now he's standing outside the 7 Eleven near his apartment, trying to figure out how to tell the guys that they've officially lost their best shot at a record deal. His phone rings and it's Jay. "Tell me something good," Jay says immediately.
"I'm alive?"
"Jungwon."
"They left before I got there." Jungwon pinches the bridge of his nose. "Water main break, traffic, rain — the use."
There's a long silence on the other end. Then: "The use? I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, and you're going to come to the bowling alley so we can all yell at you."
"I have a shift in an hour anyway."
"Perfect. Bring food. The vending machine ate Heeseung's money again." And the line goes dead.
Jungwon buys four bags of chips and a pack of energy drinks with the last cash in his wallet, and the cashier gives him the wrong change and he doesn't bother correcting her. At this point, it's expected. The bowling alley is not the worst place Jungwon's ever worked but it's close. The carpet is a geometric nightmare from the eighties, half the lanes have technical issues, and the sound system shorts out every other week. But the owner lets them use the back room for band practice as long as Jungwon keeps everything running, so he fixes bowling shoes, unjams pin setters, and pretends he knows what he's doing with electrical wiring. When he arrives, Jake is trying to kick open the storage room door. "It's stuck again," Jake announces, slamming his shoulder against it.
"Stop, you're going to break it." Jungwon drops the snacks on the front counter and heads over. He jiggles the handle, pulls instead of pushes and the door swings open easily.
Jake stares at him. "I tried that."
"Sure you did."
Inside, Sunghoon and Heeseung are setting up their equipment in the cramped space between old bowling balls and stacks of rental shoes. There's barely enough room for the drum kit, two guitars, and the microphone stand, but they make it work. "Oh good, you brought food," Heeseung says, immediately abandoning his guitar to grab a bag of chips. "The vending machine robbed me."
"So I've been told."
"Did he also tell you that Sunghoon broke a drumstick on the second song yesterday?"
"I didn't break it," Sunghoon protests from behind the kit. "It broke itself."
"Sticks don't just break themselves, Sunghoon," Jake says.
"This one did. It was defective."
"You hit the cymbal too hard."
"That's literally my job! I'm the drummer!"
Jungwon collapses into a folding chair that wobbles dangerously under his weight. Jay emerges from the tiny bathroom drying his hands on his jeans. "So," Jay says, sitting on an overturned bucket. "We're back to square one."
"Square zero," Jake corrects. "Square one implies we made progress at some point."
"We've made progress," Heeseung argues. "We're way better than we were a year ago."
"Cool. Still broke and unknown, though."
"Thanks for that, Sunghoon. Really motivating." Jungwon says.
Jake cracks open an energy drink. "What about that other label? The one Jungwon emailed last month?"
"Rejected us two weeks ago," Jungwon says flatly. "I didn't want to bring it up."
"How many is that now?" Sunghoon asks.
"Do you really want to know?"
"Not really, no."
Heeseung tears open his chip bag with too much force and half the contents spill onto the floor. "This is fine. Everything is fine."
"Nothing about this is fine," Jake says, but he's grinning. "We're a struggling band practicing in a bowling alley that smells like feet."
"It's character building," Jay offers.
"I have enough character. I want a record deal."
Jungwon leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. This is his life now. Working a dead end job at a bowling alley, managing a band that can't catch a break and somehow always being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then his phone buzzes. He checks it, hoping for something good, literally anything good. It's an email from his landlord. Rent is going up next month. "You good?" Jay asks.
"Rent increase."
"Of course it is." Jay tosses him an energy drink. "Drink that. You look dead."
"I feel dead."
Sunghoon taps his drumsticks together. "Okay, pity party's over. We practicing or what?"
"What's the point?" Jake asks. "Not like anyone's going to hear us."
"The point," Heeseung says, picking up his guitar, "is that we're good, and eventually someone's going to notice. Right, Jungwon?"
Jungwon opens his eyes. All four of them are looking at him like he has answers. He doesn't. He really, really doesn't. "Right," he says anyway, because that's what managers do. "Someone's going to notice."
"There we go. Inspirational leadership." Jay picks up his bass. "Let's run through the new song. The one Heeseung wrote."
"It's not done yet," Heeseung protests.
"Then we'll workshop it."
They launch into the song, and it actually sounds good. For a few minutes, Jungwon lets himself believe that maybe, possibly, things could work out. Then the power cuts out. The music dies instantly. The lights flicker and stay off. "Are you kidding me right now?" Sunghoon's voice comes from the darkness.
Jungwon pulls out his phone flashlight and sighs. "I'll check the breaker."
"This place is cursed," Jake says.
"No," Jungwon mutters, heading toward the electrical panel in the hallway. "I'm cursed. The place is just old."
He finds the breaker box and flips the switches. Nothing happens. He tries again. Still nothing. From inside the storage room, he hears Heeseung say, "How much do you want to bet that Jungwon's phone dies right now?" On cue, Jungwon's phone screen goes black. He stands in the dark hallway of a broken down bowling alley, his phone dead in his hand, his band waiting for him to fix something he has no idea how to fix, and he thinks, not for the first time today, that whoever's hoarding all the good luck in the world needs to share. Just a little bit.
The cafe is packed on some Thursday afternoon which makes sense because it's the only decent coffee place within walking distance of your office. You and Sunoo have been coming here at least twice a week for the past six months. "I'm getting the lavender latte," Sunoo announces, studying the menu board like he doesn't get the same thing every time. "What about you?"
"Regular iced coffee. I need to be functional for the rest of the day."
"Boring." He steps aside to let you order first. You shake your head and approach the counter.
The barista smiles at you. "Hi, what can I get you?"
"Just an iced coffee, please. Medium."
She rings it up, and then her eyes widen slightly as she looks at the computer screen. "Oh, wait. Hold on." She turns to call over her shoulder. "Manager? Can you come here for a second?" A guy with a name tag reading "Mark" appears from the back. "What's up?"
"She's the one thousandth customer this month."
Mark breaks into a grin and looks at you. "Congratulations! You get your order for free today, plus a gift card for next time."
You blink. "Really?"
"Really. It's this thing corporate makes us do for customer appreciation." He's already pulling out a gift card from behind the register. "Here you go. Twenty dollars."
"Thank you," you say, taking it. This is objectively ridiculous, but you've learned to just accept these things when they happen. Sunoo appears at your elbow, looking betrayed. "Are you serious right now?"
"What?"
"Didn't you win this same thing last month?"
"That was two months ago."
"That doesn't make it better!" Sunoo turns to the barista. "She's literally the luckiest person alive. It's unfair."
The barista laughs. "Lucky day, I guess."
"Lucky life," Sunoo mutters, but he's smiling. "Okay, I'll have the lavender latte. Medium. Which I will be paying for, apparently."
You step to the side to wait for your drink and Sunoo moves up to the counter. Behind him, the line has grown longer. There's a guy standing there now, hands shoved in his jacket pockets and looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. He's cute, you notice. Dark hair, big cat looking but tired eyes, nice face, a really nice face. He's staring at the menu board with intensity.
The door to the cafe swings open, and a woman with a huge purse barrels in, not looking where she's going. Her bag clips the side of a display stand near the entrance, and everything happens in slow motion. The stand wobbles. Jungwon is standing right next to it, completely unaware. The stand tips forward, and bags of coffee beans slide off the shelves, tumbling directly toward him. He turns just in time to see them coming. "Oh, come on—"
Three bags hit the floor around his feet, one of them splitting open on impact. Coffee beans scatter everywhere, rolling across the tile like marbles. "I'm so sorry!" the woman with the purse says, horrified.
"It's fine," Jungwon says, but his voice suggests it is very much not fine. He crouches down and starts trying to gather the beans, but they keep rolling away from him. One escapes under a table and another somehow rolls behind the counter. Mark rushes over with a broom. "Don't worry about it, man. We've got it."
"I can help —"
"Seriously, it's okay. Happens all the time." Jungwon knows it doesn't.
He stands up, and there are coffee beans stuck to his jeans. He brushes them off, looking exhausted in a way that seems deeper than just this one incident. Your eyes meet for a second. He's definitely cute. Even covered in coffee beans and looking like the universe personally inconvenienced him, there's something about him. He looks at you for just a moment longer, and you think maybe he's about to smile, or say something, but then the barista calls out, "Iced coffee for Y/N?"
"That's me," you say, breaking eye contact. You grab your drink from the counter and Sunoo gets his latte a moment later, and you both move toward the table. Jungwon is still standing near the wreckage of the coffee bean display waiting for the line to move forward.
"So," Sunoo says as you find a small table near the window, "did you secure the venue for the HYBE event?"
"Yeah, that gallery space in Midtown."
"Oh, the fancy one. Very masquerade ball-ish."
"Exactly. And we finalized the catering this morning. The guest list is almost done. HYBE's sending over the final names tomorrow."
"How many people?"
"Three hundred and twelve, last count."
Sunoo whistles. "That's huge. When's the event again?"
"Two weeks from Saturday. It's tight, but everything's been going smoothly so far."
"Of course it has. Because you're involved."
You laugh. "I don't think it works like that."
Behind you, you hear the cute guy finally reach the counter. His voice carries slightly. "Just a black coffee. Small."
"That'll be three fifty."
There's a pause. Then: "Uh, the reader's not working."
"Oh, sorry, yeah — it does this sometimes. Try again?"
Another pause. "Still nothing."
"Hmm. Let me reboot it real quick."
You glance over your shoulder without meaning to. Jungwon is standing there, card in hand, looking like he expected this exact scenario. "Give it a sec. It should work now."
After a while, Jungwon takes his coffee, looking stunned, and heads toward the door. As he passes your table, you catch a fragment of his muttered words: "...fuck my stupid baka life..."
"Okay, that guy had the worst luck I've ever seen," Sunoo says, watching him go. "Like, the exact opposite of you."
"Maybe he's just having a bad day."
You smile and finish your coffee. Outside, Jungwon has finally walked away, disappearing around the corner. You wonder, briefly, if you'll ever see him again. And Jungwon walks six blocks before he realizes he's going the wrong direction. He turns around, coffee in hand and tries to retrace his steps. His shoe squelches with every step. The puddle outside the cafe had been deeper than it looked. But he's not thinking about his wet shoe, or the card reader, or the coffee beans. He's thinking about the conversation he overheard.
His brain is already working through possibilities. If HYBE is hosting an event to showcase new artists, that means they're looking. That means there's an opportunity. He just has to figure out how to get ENHYPEN in front of them. You had said something about a meeting with HYBE's events team, which means you're involved somehow, probably with the event planning company. Jungwon pulls out his phone and types out a text to the group chat.
[jungwon:] emergency practice tonight smth came up and i have an idea
[jay:] Is it a good idea or a Jungwon idea?
[jungwon:] does it matter baka
[heeseung:] kinda but yeah
[jake:] i'm in but if i lose 20 bucks again ur dead
[jungwon:] dude i already told u ill pay u back damn
[sunghoon:] Do I have a choice?
[jungwon:] no
[sunghoon:] Then I'm in I guess
He'd gone home that day and done what he does best: research. He found out everything he could about HYBE's event. The date, two weeks away now. The location — some gallery in Midtown with a name he couldn't pronounce. The purpose — networking and showcasing new talent. And most importantly, the person in charge of casting decisions: Yoon Jeonghan, HYBE's A&R director. So the plan is: Get a demo to Jeonghan, get ENHYPEN noticed. Simple. Except nothing in Jungwon's life is ever simple.
The band spent the last two weeks practicing like their lives depended on it because maybe they did. They ran through their setlist so many times that the bowling alley's owner asked if they were training for Coachella. Jungwon recorded sample tracks; three of their best songs, mixed and mastered as well as he could manage with the equipment they had. He burned them onto a CD, wrote "ENHYPEN" in his neatest handwriting on the disc, and put it in a case that didn't look too cheap.
Now he just needed to get it into Jeonghan's hands. The masquerade ball was invitation only. Black tie. Three hundred of the most important people in the music industry. Security would be tight and Jungwon needed a way in. His first thought was to show up in a suit and try to blend in with the guests, but that plan died when he pulled his only decent suit out of the closet and found a cigarette burn hole right on the lapel. He still doesn't know how that happened, he doesn't even smoke. So the suit was out.
Plan B: get in as staff. Catering companies always needed extra help for big events, and Jungwon had waited tables before. He found the company handling the HYBE event; some place called Élite Affairs and called asking about a day of work. They were desperate and they hired him over the phone. The mask was easier. He found a plain black one at a costume shop for fifteen dollars, it wasn't fancy but it would do. The catering uniform would cover most of him anyway. Everything was set: three days from now he'd walk into that gallery as a waiter, find Yoon Jeonghan, and hand him the CD. Maybe strike up a conversation, maybe get the guy to actually listen to ENHYPEN's music. It wasn't a great plan, but it was a plan. And right now, that was more than Jungwon usually had.
And for you, the last two weeks have been perfect. The invitations went out on time, HYBE's events team approved the design immediately with no revisions needed. The decor came together exactly as you had envisioned. The gallery place looked like something out of a drama, and Yunjin locked down the entertainment, a string quartet for the beginning of the night, a DJ for later and live performances from three of HYBE's upcoming artists. Riki organized the seating chart without a single complaint from any of the guests, which might be the the most impressive accomplishment of all. Sunoo coordinated with the catering company, and you did a tasting last week, needless to say everything was perfect. Director Kim stopped by your desk yesterday and said, "I don't know how you do it, but keep doing it." And you'd just smiled, because this was what you do. Things work out, they always have.
Saturday arrives with not a single cloud in the sky, which surprises absolutely no one who knows you. You were up at seven, even though the event doesn't start until seven pm. You make coffee, go over the timeline one more time and confirm with the team via group text that everyone's on schedule.
Your dress had been a last minute find, you'd gone shopping three days ago, fully expecting to spend hours searching and found it in the first store. Black, floor length with delicate beading along the neckline that catches the light when you move. It fits perfectly with no alterations needed. And the mask was even easier, you'd walked past a boutique on your way home from work yesterday and saw it in the window: black lace with gold accents and which matched your dress perfectly.
Meanwhile, Jungwon wakes up at noon in a cold sweat from a nightmare where he tripped and spilled an entire tray of champagne on Yoon Jeonghan. He lies there for a moment, staring at the water stain on his ceiling and thinks: Don't. Mess. This. Up. Please, for once in your life.
The catering uniform is hanging on the back of his door, they'd given it to him yesterday during the brief orientation, and it's slightly too big but he'd expected that. He tried on last night to make sure nothing was egregiously wrong. The shirt had a small stain on the cuff but he could scrub it out, probably. The mask sits on his dresser plain black and simple and forgettable, perfect for blending in. He showers and shaves and tries to make himself look presentable. His hair won't cooperate though, which is standard. He gives up after ten minutes and just runs his hands through it.
The CD is in a thin envelope on his desk. He'd checked it approximately fifty times to make sure it actually works and it does; all three tracks, clear audio, no skips. He slips it into the inside pocket of his vest. And by three pm, he's dressed and standing in front of his bathroom mirror, giving himself a pep talk. "You're going to walk in, do your job, find Jeonghan and give him the CD. Have a normal, pleasant and professional conversation with him. Don't spill anything, don't break anything. Don't. Mess. This. Up."
You arrive at four for the final walkthrough, and even though you've seen the space decorated before, it still takes your breath away. Sunoo walks over, adjusting his tie. "Catering's almost done setting up. They brought extra staff, so we're covered if it gets busy."
"Guest check in?"
"Ready. Riki's handling the mask distribution for anyone who forgets theirs."
You exhale. "Okay. Okay, we're ready."
Director Kim — Chaewon, she'd insisted last week ("We're friends, please, call me Chaewon") appears in a stunning black gown with her mask already in place. "This is beautiful," she says, surveying the room. "You've outdone yourself. Enjoy tonight. You've earned it."
Jungwon arrives at the gallery at 4:50 PM, which he considers a miracle. The catering manager briefs the staff in the gallery's kitchen. "This is a high profile event," she says, pacing in front of them. "HYBE's reputation is on the line, which means ours is too. You will be polite, efficient and invisible. If a guest needs something, you get it. If something goes wrong you find me. Do not — I repeat, do not — draw attention to yourselves." Jungwon nods along with everyone else. "Masks stay on at all times while you're in the event space. You'll be serving passed appetizers during the cocktail hour, then transitioning to table service for dinner. Questions?" No one has questions. "Good, masks on. Let's go."
They assign him to pass champagne during cocktail hour. Jungwon adjusts his mask and follows the group into the main gallery. And okay, he has to admit it looks incredible. By seven PM, the gallery is already full. You're standing near the entrance with Chaewon, greeting guests as they arrive. HYBE's executives arrived twenty minutes ago, you recognize a few faces from meetings, though the masks make it harder. Sunoo appears, grinning. "Okay, I have to show you something, come on." He leads you toward the back corner of the gallery, where a small booth has been set up. There's a sign: Madame Clarrisse - Fortune Teller. "HYBE requested this last minute," Sunoo explains. "Apparently one of their executives is really into this stuff. She's been reading palms for the last half hour."
You peer into the booth. A woman in an eleborate purple gown and a jeweled mask sits at a small table, holding a guest's hand. "You want to get your fortune read?"Sunoo asks.
"Why not? Could be fun."
"You already know your fortune, bitch. You're lucky as fuck." Sunoo says with a grin, teasing you, and you laugh along with him.
You wait until the current guest finishes, then slip into the chair across from Madame Clarisse. She's older, maybe sixties. "Give me your hand, dear," she says. You extend your right hand, and she takes it, turning it over, tracing the lines on your palm with one finger and her expression shift. "Interesting," she murmurs. "Your luck line is very strong, remarkably so." She pauses, studying it closer. "But there's a break here, right at the end."
"Right. Thanks." You pull your hand back, still smiling.
You and Sunoo walk away, and he is still laughing. "That was the worst fortune telling I've ever seen. 'Your luck is ending.' What kind of scam is that? The fuck does she want you to do?"
"At least she committed to the bit."
"She's probably telling everyone the same thing, so you can come back or whatever and give her more money." You sip your champagne and scan the room. Everything is perfect — guests are mingling, the music is beautiful and the food is being served. Your luck isn't going anywhere.
Jungwon has been circling the gallery for forty minutes and he still hasn't found Jeonghan. He's served champagne to at least sixty people. He's narrowly avoided colliding with another waiter twice. He's successfully kept his tray balanced despite someone bumping into him. So far, nothing terrible has happened, which is almost suspicious.
He's starting to think Jeonghan isn't there when he finally spots him near the bar, talking to a girl in a black dress and lace mask and Jungwon's heart jumps. That's him, that's definitely him. Jungwon's seen enough photos to recognize him even with the mask. So he moves closer, trying to look casual, waiting for an opening. You laugh at something Jeonghan says, you're gesturing animatedly, clearly comfortable. Jungwon wonders if you're someone important or just a guest. After a few minutes, Jeonghan excuses himself and walks toward the restrooms. This is Jungwon's chance. But he needs a better approach than just ambushing the guy in a hallway. He needs context and information.
You're still standing by the bar, alone now, watching the room with the satisfied feeling of seeing everything go exactly according to plan. Then, Jungwon makes a decision. He walks over, tray balanced in one hand, and stops just close enough that you notice him. "Champagne?"
You turn, and there's something about the way he's looking at you, even through the mask. You can see his smiling, but not the polite server smile, almost a grin, more genuine, maybe. "Sure, thank you."
You take the glass and your fingers brush his for a second, and he should walk away now. That's what waiters do, right? Serve and move on. Instead, he stays. "You seem like you're having a good time."
There's a lightness to his voice, almost playful, and you find yourself smiling back. "I am. It's a beautiful event."
"Yeah, it really is." He glances around the room and then back at you. "Someone clearly knows what they're doing."
You smile at that. "Thank you," you say, taking a sip.
His eyebrows raise slightly behind the mask. "So you're the one running this whole thing?"
"Not alone, obviously. But I'm helping, yeah."
"That's impressive." He leans in just a little, enough that you catch a hint of cologne. "Must've been a lot of work."
"It was. But it's worth it when everything comes together like this." You tilt your head studying him. "What about you? You're not supposed to be chatting with guests, are you?"
He grins, and it's disarming. "Probably not. But you looked interesting."
"Interesting?"
"Friendly," he corrects quickly. "You looked friendly."
"Friendly. Right." You take a sip of champagne, hiding your smile. "That's one way to put it."
There's something easy about him. The way he stands there, relaxed but also attentive, like he's got nowhere else to be even though you both know he does. You're not sure why you're still talking to him, but you don't exactly want to stop. "So do you work for HYBE?" he asks, like he's genuinely curious.
"No. I'm with the event company. We're the ones who put all this together."
"Ah." He nods and you swear you see something shift in his expression — relief, maybe? Interest? "That explains the whole 'owning the place' vibe."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Definitely a compliment."
You laugh again, and he seems pleased by that. "What about you? Do you usually work at events like this or is this a one time thing?"
"Sometimes," he says a little too casually. "It's good money. Plus, you know, I get to see how the other half lives." He glances down at his tray and then back at you. "Though I have to say, this is probably the nicest one I've ever worked."
"Well, we tried."
"You succeeded."
There's a beat of silence, and you realize you've been looking at him for longer than it's probably normal. Even with the mask covering half of his face, there's something about him. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the easy confidence in the way he talks. He seems to realize it too because he straightens up slightly. "Well, I should probably get back to work before my boss notices I've been standing here flirting with a guest."
The word hangs in the air. Flirting. "Is that what you're doing?" you ask, smirking, and your voice comes out more playful than you intended.
He doesn't miss a beat. "Maybe. Was it working?"
You bite back a smile. "I don't know, were you trying?"
"Not at first," he admits. "But now I kind of am."
You heart does something stupid in your chest, and you take another nervous sip of champagne to cover it. "Well, you should probably go before you get in trouble."
"Probably." But he doesn't move. "Thanks for letting me talk your ear off."
"Anytime."
He takes a step back and then pauses. "What's your name?"
You hesitate. There's something fun about the anonymity of the masks, the idea that you're both strangers at a party. "Does it matter? We're all wearing masks."
He considers this and then grins. "Fair point — mystery makes it more interesting anyway."
"Exactly."
"So what do I call you then?"
"Hot and mysterious event planner?" you offer, smirking.
"I like it." He smirks back. "What about me?"
"Hmm…" You pretend to think about it. "Hot and mysterious waiter who's definitely breaking the rules right now?"
He laughs and it's genuine, the kind of laugh that makes you want to hear again. "That's a mouthful."
"You asked, though."
"I did." He's still smiling as he starts to back away. "Guess I'll see you around, hot and mysterious event planner."
"Maybe," you say. "If you're lucky."
Jungwon laughs at that. Well, he's never lucky, but maybe tonight's different. And then he's gone, slipping back into the crowd and you're left standing there with an empty champagne glass and the strangest feeling that you just met someone you weren't really supposed to. You don't even know his name, but you're smiling anyway.
An hour later, you've had three glasses of champagne, and the room has taken on a pleasantly soft glow. Everything is still going perfectly, the guests are happy, nobody's complained about anything. Chaewon even pulled you aside twenty minutes ago to tell you that HYBE's CEO personally complimented the event. You're riding high on success and champagne when Sunoo finds you near the dessert table. "Okay, so I've been thinking about that fortune teller," he says, already giggling. "What if your luck does run out tonight?"
"Then I guess I'll have to live like a normal person," you say, popping a chocolate covered strawberry into your mouth.
"Terrifying. Truly." He leans against the table, scanning the room. "Although, the way you're going, you'll probably find a sugar daddy at this party and never have to work again."
You snort. "Please. I want to be my own sugar daddy."
"Okay, boss. Independent woman. I respect it." He takes a sip of his drink. "But seriously, with your luck, you could probably kiss someone random tonight and they'd turn out to be the love of your life or something."
"Sunoo."
"I'm just saying! It's how your life works."
You roll your eyes. "You know me. I don't just go around kissing people."
"Maybe you should start. Live a little." He gestures broadly at the masked crowd. "Everyone's anonymous anyway. It's very romantic."
You're about to respond when you catch sight of Jungwon across the room. He's standing near one of the tall windows but he's not really working. He's just there, and the mask obscures most of his face but you'd recognize the way he stands anywhere. "Oh my god," you say. "You've seen that waiter? The one by the window."
Sunoo follows your gaze and nearly chokes on his drink. "Are you serious right now?"
"What?"
"You — of all the people at this party, all the rich executives and hot industry people — you're looking at a waiter?"
"He's cute!"
"He's working!"
"So? What's your point?" Sunoo stares at you like you've lost your mind. "My point is there are literal celebrities here, and you want to flirt with the helper," he says.
"Don't be snobby, Sunoo. It doesn't suit you."
"I'm not being snobby, I'm being logical." But he's grinning now. "Oh god. You have that look."
"What look?"
"The I'm about to do something impulsive look." Sunoo sets his glass down on the table. "Okay, this I have to see."
"See what?"
"You, flirting with a waiter at the most important event of your career."
You cross your arms. "I can flirt with whoever I want."
"I'm not saying you can't. I'm just saying it's very on brand for you to ignore everyone in favor of—"
"He seems nice and he's very charming."
"And you've talked to him for like, what? Five minutes?!"
"And?! So what! You've dated people you talked for less."
Sunoo gasps, hand over his chest. "Rude. But fair." He looks at the waiter again then back at you. " But you did say you don't just kiss random people."
"Maybe I'm feeling spontaneous tonight."
"Because of the fortune teller?"
"Because of the champagne."
Sunoo laughs. "Okay. Okay, I dare you to go over there and shoot your shot with the cute waiter, since you're so confident."
You look at him, then at the waiter, then back at Sunoo. "Fine."
"Wait, seriously?"
"You literally just dared me."
"I didn't think you'd actually—" But you're already walking away, and Sunoo's laughter follows you across the room. Meanwhile, Jungwon has given up on finding Yoon Jeonghan. Not permanently but just for the next ten minutes, because he's been nursing a cocktail he swiped from a tray, and the room is spinning just slightly, and honestly? He's tired of stressing. He's leaning against the window just watching the party, and somehow thinking about the girl in the black dress, you. He hasn't seen you in a while, which was probably for the best because he was supposed to be working and not flirting with guests who are way out of his league. And then, as if summoned by his thoughts, you appear in front of him. "Hi again."
Jungwon straightens up immediately. "Oh. Hey."
"You looked lonely over here."
"Did I?"
"A little." You're smiling, and there's something loser about you now, more relaxed. "What happened to working?"
"Taking a break," he says, and you notice the way his mouth curves, not quite a smirk but close.
"Good. Breaks are important."
You lean against the window next to him, close enough that your bare arm almost brushes his sleeve. Close enough to notice things you didn't before, like the way his dark hair falls just slightly into his eyes or the way his mask doesn't quite hide the sharp line of his jaw. "So. Hot and mysterious waiter."
"Hot and mysterious event planner," he counters, and now he's definitely smirking.
"Are you having fun?"
"More fun than I expected," he admits, and his eyes — god, his eyes are so focused on you it makes your stomach flip. "You?"
"It's been a good night." You tilt your head studying him openly now. "You know, I never got to ask — do you always flirt with guests, or am I special?"
He laughs, and it's lower than you expected. "Definitely not always. You're a special case."
"Special how?"
"I don't know yet." He shifts his weight, angling toward you. "Still figuring it out."
You bite your lip without thinking and you watch his gaze drop to your mouth for just a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. "Well, let me know when you do."
"I will."
The air between you feels different now, more charged. The masks aren't even hiding you from each other anymore, it's more like they're giving you permission. "Can I ask you something?" You ask.
"Sure."
"Why did you come over to talk to me earlier? Really."
He considers for a moment and you notice the way he runs his tongue briefly over his bottom lip, a tell that he's thinking. "Because you looked interesting. And I wanted an excuse to talk to you."
"That's it?"
"That's it." He shifts closer. "Is that okay?"
"It's more than okay." You're looking at him, really looking, trying to memorize the details the mask doesn't hide.
"You know what," his voice drops a little lower. "You don't seem like someone who spends all their time planning fancy parties."
"What do I seem like, then?"
He takes his time answering, and his eyes moving over your face like he's reading you. You notice things about him too like the way he's tall enough that you have to tilt your head slightly to hold his gaze or the way his shoulders are broader than you initially thought. "Like someone I'd want to know," he says finally. "If we weren't both wearing masks at a party where we were both supposed to be working."
Your smile widens, and your heart is doing something stupid in your chest. "That's a good answer."
"Thanks. I try."
"Do you, though?"
"Not usually, no." He grins and it's devastating. "Tonight's an exception."
You laugh, because there's something about him that makes you want to be bold, want to push boundaries you normally wouldn't. "Okay, you're trouble," you say, but it comes out almost affectionate.
"Me?" He raises an eyebrow. "You're the one who came over here, love."
The petname makes you shiver. "Fair point."
You're standing even closer now. You're not sure when that happened but there's barely any space left between you. You can feel your pulse in your throat and you're aware of everything — the warmth of his body, the way he's looking at you. You should step back, you should remember that you're at the most important event of your career, that he's working, and that you don't even know his name. But you don't want to. Instead, you say, "What if I told you," and you take a step closer, "that I'm not very good at making decisions?"
His lips curve into a smile. "Then I'd say that's hard to believe."
"Why?"
"Because you seem like someone who knows exactly what she wants."
Your heart skips. "Do I?"
"Yeah." He reaches up, and his fingers brush a strand of hair away from your face. "You do."
The contact sends a shiver through you. His hand lingers near your cheek and you can't tell if he's being deliberate or if he's just as caught up in this as you are. "And what if," you breathe, "what I want is a bad idea?"
"Then maybe," he says and his thumb grazing your jaw now, "you should stop thinking so much."
"Is that your professional advice?"
"Definitely not professional." His eyes are locked on yours. "Nothing about this is professional."
"No," you agree. "It's really not."
The space between you has narrowed to almost nothing. You can feel the heat radiating off him, see the way his chest rises and falls just a little faster than normal. His hand is still at your face, and yours has somehow found its way to his chest, your fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his vest. His eyes search yours for a long moment, and then, "Come here," he murmurs.
You close the distance. The kiss starts soft, like he's giving you a chance to change your mind. His lips are warm and gentle against yours, his hand cradling your face. But then you press closer, your hand sliding up to the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair, and something shifts. He makes a sound low in his throat and the gentleness evaporates. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and his mouth moves against yours with an urgency that steals your breath.
And oh god, he can kiss. It's all consuming, like the way his tongue traces the seam of your mouth before slipping inside. He tastes like champagne, even though he probably shouldn't be drinking during work hours and that somehow makes him even hotter. His hand tightens at your waist while the other cups your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss even further. You press closer, and he responds immediately, his fingers sliding into your hair, careful not to dislodge your mask but possessive. You feel something shift inside you — something fundamental and terrifying and exhilarating, like a lock clicking into place. It feels like the ground beneath your feet just tilted, and it feels significant in a way you can't explain. Like the before and after of your life just split into two distinct halves, and this moment, this kiss, this person is the dividing line.
When you finally break apart it's only because you need air. His forehead rests against yours, and you're both breathing hard, your fingers still tangled in his hair, his hands still holding tight. "Jesus," he breathes.
You laugh, breathless. "Yeah."
"That was—"
"I know."
He pulls back just enough to look at you, and even through the mask you can see the way his pupils are blown wide and his lips are slightly swollen from kissing you. He looks wrecked in the best way. His thumb traces your bottom lip. "We should probably—" You don't finish the sentence because you don't actually know what you should do. Stop? Keep going? Pretend this didn't feel like it just shifted something fundamental in your universe?
"Yeah," he agrees, even though neither of you moves.
You're still pressed against each other, his hand still in your hair, yours still on his chest. "This is crazy," you say. "I just kissed a waiter at my own event."
"I just kissed a guest when I'm supposed to be working." He grins. "Should we stop?"
You consider this for approximately half a second. "No."
"Good answer, love." He's leaning in again, his hand coming back up to cup your face, and you're already closing your eyes when you hear a loud crash. The kind of sound that makes an entire party go silent, and you both freeze. "What was that?" he asks.
You turn toward the main floor and your stomach drops. Director Kim, Chaewon, is standing in the middle of the dance floor, her mask askew, pointing an accusatory finger at a woman in a red dress. The woman is pointing right back and even from here you can tell they're both several drinks past professional. "Oh no," you breathe. "My boss. Oh my god."
Chaewon's voice carries across the gallery. "You have some NERVE showing up here!"
The woman in red gets right in her face. "I was INVITED!"
"By WHO?" Security is already moving toward them, and you're moving too, I mean you're already running or trying to, in heels and a floor length dress. You reach the stairs leading down to the main floor and you're halfway down when your heel catches on the hem of your dress. The snap is audible. Your shoe — your perfect, expensive, matched to the dress shoe — breaks clean off. You stumble, barely catching yourself on the railing, and hobble the rest of the way down with one heel and one bare foot.
By the time you reach the dance floor, Chaewon has grabbed a glass of champagne off a passing tray and looks like she's considering throwing it. "Chaewon," you say, breathless, trying to step between them. "Hey. Let's just—"
"She's sleeping with my husband!" the woman in red shrieks.
The entire gallery is watching now. All three hundred guests. HYBE executives. Press. Everyone. "I am NOT —" Chaewon starts.
"You absolutely ARE—"
A security guard finally reaches them, gently but firmly taking Chaewon by the arm. "Don't touch me!" She yanks her arm away and nearly loses her balance. Her mask falls off completely, and you try again. "Chaewon, please, let's just go outside and—"
"Where were you?" Chaewon whirls on you and her eyes are unfocused. "You're supposed to be MANAGING this event!"
"I was — I am—"
"Mrs. Choi was NOT supposed to be on the guest list!" She gestures wildly at the woman in red. "I specifically told you to make sure her name wasn't on there!"
Your blood runs cold. "What?"
"I sent you an email! Two weeks ago!"
You remember it now, an email buried in your inbox, unread, flagged as low priority by your email filter: Please remove Mrs. Choi from the final guest list. Personal reasons. "I didn't see it," you whisper.
"You DIDN'T SEE IT?" Chaewon's voice echoes. "This is YOUR job! This whole night was YOUR responsibility, and you —" Mrs. Choi interrupts, her voice icy. "My husband is Director Choi from HYBE. And I will be making sure he knows exactly how this event was run."
Your stomach plummets to your feet. The head of security appears. "I'm going to have to ask both of you to leave."
"This is ridiculous," Chaewon slurs but she's already being guided toward the door. You follow with one shoe on, one shoe off, your dress torn at the hem, your mask crooked, and your entire career presumably in ruins. He escorts you and Chaewon out through the main entrance and the cool night air hits you. "This is your fault," Chaewon says. "This whole thing is your fault."
"I didn't see the email —"
"That's not an excuse! You were supposed to be on top of everything!" She laughs bitterly. "God, I actually thought you were good at this. Director Han kept saying you were so lucky, so perfect, nothing ever goes wrong for you —"
"Chaewon—"
"Director Kim. Well, congratulations. Something finally went wrong." She flags down a taxi and stumbles into it, and disappears into the night without another word. You stand there on the sidewalk, your dress ruined, your career probably over, and you think about the fortune teller: Your luck is about to run out. Maybe she wasn't kidding after all.
Inside, Jungwon watches the whole thing unfold with a mixture of horror and disbelief. He should find you and make sure you're okay, do something. But then he sees Yoon Jeonghan, walking toward the exit with his phone pressed to his ear, looking slightly irritated. This is it. This is Jungwon's chance. He hesitates for only a second — thinking about you, about the kiss, about how wrong it feels to just let you leave like that — but then reality crashes back in. He came here for a reason. He has a band counting on him, he has a CD in his pocket that represents two years of work. He can find you later, maybe, somehow.
Jungwon follows Jeonghan, keeping enough distance to not look suspicious. Jeonghan stops at the curb still on his phone, waiting for his car. Jungwon's hand goes to his pocket, feeling for the CD. He takes a step forward and a car comes around the corner fast and Jeonghan, distracted by his phone call, steps off the curb without looking. Jungwon doesn't think, he just lunges forward, grabbing Jeonghan's arm and yanking him back onto the sidewalk. The car blares past, missing them by inches. Jeonghan drops his phone. "What the—"
"You almost got hit," Jungwon says, breathing hard.
Jeonghan stares at him, then at the street, then back at him. "I — you just—"
"You weren't looking."
"I wasn't—" Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair, visibly shaken. "Jesus. Thank you. That car would've—" They stand there for a moment, both processing what almost happened. Jeonghan bends down to pick up his phone, miraculously uncracked, and looks at Jungwon properly for the first time. "You work for the catering company?"
"Uh, yeah. Tonight, anyway."
"Well, you just saved my life, so." Jeonghan laughs shaky. "Thank you. Seriously."
"No problem."
Jeonghan's car pulls up and he opens the door, then pauses. "What's your name?"
"Jungwon. Yang Jungwon."
"Well, Jungwon. I owe you one." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a business card. "If you ever need anything, just call me."
Jungwon takes the card and his heart is pounding. "Actually," he says, pulling the CD from his pocket before he can lose his nerve, "I have something. If you have a second."
Jeonghan looks at the CD then at Jungwon, curious. "What is it?"
"A demo. For my band. It's called ENHYPEN. I'm their manager, and they're — they're really good, and I know everyone says that, but they are. They've been trying to get signed for two years, and I just —" He takes a breath. "I just want someone to listen. That's all."
Jeonghan studies him for a long moment and then takes the CD. "You just saved my life," he says. "The least I can do is listen to your band."
"Really?"
"Really." Jeonghan slides into his car. "I'll call you next week. We'll talk." Jungwon stands on the sidewalk watching him leave, his business card in one hand, the ghost of the CD in the other, and he can't quite believe what just happened. He almost got Yoon Jeonghan killed. Then he saved Yoon Jeonghan's life. And now Yoon Jeonghan has his demo. He looks up at the night sky and thinks, for the first time in his entire life — maybe his luck is finally changing.
The week after the masquerade ball is, without exaggeration, the worst week of your life.
Monday morning, you're fired. Director Han doesn't even look at you when she says it. Just slides a severance packet across her desk and tells you that "given the circumstances," it's best if you "pursue other opportunities." The circumstances being: HYBE terminated their contract with the company. Effective immediately, no future projects, no referrals, nothing. All because Mrs. Choi told her husband what happened, and Director Choi told HYBE's CEO, and suddenly the company that organized the event where the director got publicly accused of having an affair is no longer a company HYBE wants to be associated with. Chaewon hasn't responded to any of your texts. You're pretty sure she's blocked your number.
Tuesday, you spill coffee all over yourself on the subway. Your white shirt is completely ruined, and you have a job interview in twenty minutes. You show up looking like a disaster. You don't get the job. Your landlord calls on wednesday. "I'm so sorry," He says, and he actually sounds sorry. "But the building's been sold. New owners want everyone out by the end of the week for renovations."
"End of the week? That's in two days!"
"I know. I'm really sorry. It's out of my hands."
You spend wednesday night frantically searching for apartments you can afford, which turns out to be zero apartments, because you no longer have a job and your savings are pathetic. Friday, you move into Sunoo's apartment with two suitcases and a dying plant you've somehow managed to keep alive for three years. "It's temporary," you tell him, setting your stuff down in his tiny living room.
"Stay as long as you need," Sunoo says. He's being incredibly nice about this, considering his apartment is barely big enough for one person. "The couch pulls out into a bed. Kind of."
You test it. It does not pull out into a bed, it pulls out into a medieval torture device. "It's perfect," you lie. Saturday, you go to three more job interviews and none of them go well. One of them ends with the interviewer asking if you're feeling okay because you "seem stressed." You are stressed. You're very stressed. Sunday, you're sitting on Sunoo's couch (your new bed) eating cereal and staring at nothing, when Sunoo comes out of his room. "Okay," he says. "I've been thinking. Remember the fortune teller? At the party?"
You look at him. "How could I forget."
"Yeah." Sunoo sits down next to you. "I think she was right."
"Yeah, I noticed."
"Like, everything went wrong in your life. Literally everything all at once in one week."
"I got it Sunoo. What's your point?"
"My point is what if she actually did something? Like what if it wasn't just a prediction? What if she cursed you or something?"
You stare at him. "Sunoo. She's a party entertainer, not a witch."
"You don't know that!"
"I'm pretty sure—"
"All I'm saying is, your entire life fell apart the night she touched your hand. That's suspicious."
You want to argue, but honestly? You're desperate enough to consider it. "Fine," you say. "I'll go find her and ask her to uncurse me. Happy?"
"Very." Sunoo grins. "See? This is why we're friends. You're willing to entertain my insane theories."
"I don't have a choice. My life is already upside down."
And across town, Jungwon is having the best week of his life. He finds twenty dollars in the pocket of a jacket on monday, a jacket he hasn't worn in months. Not life changing, but nice. Tuesday, he buys a lottery scratch off ticket on a whim and wins fifty bucks. The subway is delayed on wednesday, and he's annoyed until he realizes the delay meant he avoided a massive service outage on the line he would've transferred to. He would've been stuck underground for two hours but instead, he gets home early. Thursday, his landlord calls to say they're lowering rent for all tenants because of some tax credit thing Jungwon doesn't understand. Friday, his phone rings, an unknown number. "Hello?"
"Hi, is this Yang Jungwon?"
"Yeah. Who's this?"
"Yoon Jeonghan. From HYBE. We met last weekend."
Jungwon's heart stops. "Oh. Yeah, Jeonghan! Hi."
"Listen, I listened to your demo. And I have to say — I'm impressed. Your band is really good."
Jungwon sits down before his knees give out. "Thank you. That — thank you."
"I'd like to bring you and the guys in for a studio session. See how you sound live, meet the team. Would next week work?"
"Yes. Absolutely, yes."
"Great. I'll have my assistant send over the details. Looking forward to it, Jungwon."
The studio session is scheduled for the following Thursday. Jungwon spends the days leading up to it in a state of controlled panic and the guys practice until the bowling alley owner threatens to charge them extra. But Thursday arrives and nothing goes wrong. Actually, everything goes perfectly. They arrive at HYBE's building with twenty minutes to spare and the studio is incredible, huge, with equipment that probably costs more than Jungwon's entire life.
They play three songs, their best three songs and they're perfect. Heeseung's vocals are flawless, Jake's guitar work is clean and emotional, Jay's bass anchors everything, Sunghoon's drumming is powerful. When they finish, there's a moment of silence and then Jeonghan starts actually clapping. "That is exactly what we've been looking for." The other executives are nodding, talking amongst themselves. Jeonghan turns to Jungwon. "Can we talk in my office?" Jungwon follows him down a hallway. Jeonghan's office is sleek with a view of the city. He gestures for Jungwon to sit. "I'm going to be direct," Jeonghan says. "We want to sign ENHYPEN. Full contract. Album deal, marketing budget, tour support. Everything."
Jungwon's brain short circuits. "You — what?"
"We think you guys have something special. You guys have potential, it's all there. We want to invest in it."
"How much are we talking?"
Jeonghan slides a paper across the desk. Jungwon looks at the number and nearly passes out. "That's just the signing bonus," Jeonghan says. "The full contract is much more comprehensive. But I think this is a partnership that could really work."
Jungwon stares at the number. It's more money than he's ever seen in his life. More money than he thought was possible. They say yes, obviously they say yes. The contract is signed the following week and the signing bonus hits their accounts two days later. Suddenly, Jungwon can pay rent for a year in advance. Suddenly, the guys can quit their day jobs. Suddenly, they're not a struggling band anymore. They're HYBE artists.
On Saturday night, they celebrate at the bowling alley, the place where it all started. They're loud and drunk and happy in a way Jungwon hasn't felt in years. "I can't believe this is real," Jake says, staring at his phone like he's checking his bank account for the hundredth time. Jungwon leans back in his chair, looking at his best friends, his band, and thinks about how one decision — one stupid, desperate decision to sneak into a party — changed everything.
On next Monday, you and Sunoo stand outside a shop in a part of town you've never been to before. The sign above the door says Madame Clarisse - Spiritual Advisor in peeling gold letters. There's a neon palm reader sign in the window that flickers every few seconds. The whole place looks like it hasn't been updated since the 90s. "This is humiliating," you say.
Sunoo pushes the door open and a bell chimes overhead. The interior smells like incense and there are crystals everywhere and velvet tablecloths. It's definitely mystical. Madame Clarisse emerges from behind a curtain. She's not wearing her party costume anymore — just regular clothes, jeans and a sweater, but she's still got the jewelry. Rings on every finger, about six necklaces. She takes one look at you and smiles. "I was wondering when you'd show up."
"You were?" You ask, surprised.
"Of course. You're the girl from the party. The one whose luck ran out." She gestures to a chair. "Sit." You do and Sunoo hovers behind you like moral support. "So," She says, settling into the chair across from you. "What can I do for you?"
"You can uncurse me."
"Un— I'm sorry, uncurse you?"
"Yes. Whatever you did to me at that party, I need you to undo it."
She laughs. It's not a polite laugh, it's the kind of laugh that says she thinks you're an idiot. "Sweetheart, I didn't curse you."
"Then why did you say my luck was running out?"
"Because it was. I read palms. I see things." She leans back, arms crossed. "You think I have the power to just take away someone's luck? That's not how it works."
"Then how does it work?"
She tilts her head, studying you. "You kissed someone that night, didn't you?"
Your face goes hot. "That's none of your—"
"You did. I can tell." She's smiling now. "That's what did it. You transferred your luck to the person you kissed."
Sunoo leans forward. "She what?"
"It's rare, but it happens. When someone with an extraordinary amount of luck kisses someone with an extraordinary amount of bad luck —" She makes a gesture like she's balancing scales. "The universe likes balance."
You stare at her. "You're telling me I kissed someone and gave them my luck and they gave me bad luck?"
"More or less. The person you kissed needed it more than you did. The universe decided to redistribute."
"The universe can't just —"
"The universe does what it wants. You had more than your fair share of good luck for your entire life. Someone else was drowning in bad luck. You kissed them, and it balanced out. Simple. But this is just temporary."
"Temporary?"
"Well. Probably." She waves a hand. "Unless you want your luck back. Then you'd have to kiss them again."
You stand there, staring at this woman in her crystal covered shop, and your brain is trying to process what she just told you. That you kissed someone and that the kiss stole your luck. That the universe decided you'd had enough good fortune for one lifetime and redistributed it to some random person at a party. Your eye twitches. "So let me get this straight," you say slowly. "I have to find someone I kissed at a masquerade ball — where everyone was masked — and kiss them again."
"If you want your luck back."
"And if I don't find them?"
Madame Clarisse shrugs. "Then you live like a normal person. It's not the end of the world."
"My landlord kicked me out. I got fired. I—"
"Yes, yes, very tragic." She's still smiling. "But you're young, healthy, and you have a friend who clearly cares about you." She nods at Sunoo. "You'll survive."
You want to argue, but the words get stuck somewhere in your throat. Instead, you just stand there making a noise that's half laugh, half scream. Sunoo puts a hand on your shoulder. "Okay. We're leaving now. Thank you for your time."
"Anytime," Madame Clarisse calls after you as Sunoo guides you toward the door. "And really — good luck!"
The door slams behind you. Outside, rain is coming down in sheets, soaking through your clothes in seconds. You and Sunoo are standing under a tiny awning that's doing absolutely nothing to keep you dry. "I'm going to kill her," you say.
"She's a fortune teller. She probably saw that coming."
"Sunoo."
"Sorry." He's already scrolling through his phone, squinting at the screen. "Okay. Okay, I'm texting Riki right now. He can get us the staff list from the catering company."
You turn to look at him. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
"Sunoo, I am not — I'm not going to just —" You gesture wildly, and a car drives by too close to the curb, sending up a spray of water that drenches your legs. "Oh, come ON!" Sunoo jumps back just in time, completely dry. You stare down at your jeans, now soaked and clinging to your shins and something inside you snaps. "This is what I'm talking about!" you shout, throwing your hands up. "This is my life now! I get hit by puddles! My phone is in a storm drain! I'm living on a couch!"
"I know—"
"No, you don't know! You still have your job! Your apartment! Your normal, boring, non cursed life!"
"You're not cursed —"
"I kissed someone and lost my luck, Sunoo! That's a curse!"
He's quiet for a second, and then he says, very calmly, "So let's find him."
"Find him?"
"Yeah. The guy you kissed. We find him, you kiss him again, problem solved."
You laugh and it comes out a little unhinged. "Oh, sure. Let me just — let me just go through the entire city kissing every man who worked that event until one of them magically gives me my luck back. Great plan."
"Do you have a better one?"
"I—" You stop, open your mouth then close it because he's right and you hate it. Your life is a disaster, everything you touch breaks. You have no job, no apartment, no luck. And somewhere out there, some guy you kissed at a party is probably living his best life with your good fortune. "Fine," you say through gritted teeth. "Get the list."
He's already typing on his phone, texting Riki, pulling up something that looks like an event database. You stand there in the pouring rain soaked to the bone, watching him work, and you think about that guy. Like the way he smiled and the way he kissed you. You don't even know his name, but apparently, he has everything you used to have. And you're going to get it back.
And Jungwon was living like a king with the amount of luck you gave him. He moved out of his cramped studio apartment into a real place with two bedrooms and actual sunlight, a kitchen where he could fit more than one person at a time. The landlord had called him personally to offer a unit that just became available, said something about how Jungwon seemed like "good energy." He signed the lease the same day.
And now he has a driver, an actual driver who picks him up every morning and takes him to HYBE. Jungwon still isn't used to it, he sits in the back of the car and feels like he's playing pretend. The guys are living their dream, though. They're in a real studio now, not the bowling alley storage room, but an actual professional space with soundproofing and expensive equipment. Jake bought new guitars, plural. Heeseung got vocal coaching from someone who's worked with actual famous people. Sunghoon upgraded his drum kit and nearly cried when it was delivered. Jay keeps texting photos of expensive bass pedals to the group chat like a kid in a candy store. Everything is working out.
Jungwon knows it's the luck, he's not stupid. Things don't just fall into place like this. Not for him, not naturally. But he doesn't take it for granted. He remembers what it was like before, when every single thing was going wrong at the worst possible moment. He remembers being tired all the time, not from work, but from fighting against the universe. So yeah, he's grateful. He tips the driver well, he brings coffee for the studio staff. He says thank you for things people don't usually say thank you for. And he actually thinks about you sometimes. He wonders if you're okay. And, well, you are not okay.
The list Riki got from the catering company has forty three names on it. Forty three men who worked the HYBE event that night. You've been through twelve of them so far. The first guy you eliminated immediately because his Instagram showed he was engaged. The second one was eliminated because he posted a photo from that night and you could see his hands and they were different. You don't know how you remember his hands, but you do. The third guy you actually went on a date with. He seemed nice enough over text, and when you met him at a cafe, he was polite, average looking, completely fine. You kissed him in the parking lot after. Just went for it, quick and experimental. But, nothing. You pulled the scratch off lottery ticket from your purse — one of ten you bought specifically for this purpose — and scratched it right there under a streetlight while he watched confused. You obviously lost. "Thanks," you'd said, already walking away. "This was great."
"Wait, are we—"
"Nope!"
The eighth guy was easier to eliminate. He posted a photo of himself and the mask he wore that night was completely different. The eleventh guy also agreed to meet you for drinks. You kissed him outside the bar and then scratched a ticket, nothing again. By guy number twenty, Sunoo started coming with you for moral support. "This is the saddest thing I've ever witnessed," he said, watching you scratch another losing ticket outside a restaurant.
Forty three names. You went through all forty three names on that list. Not all of them required dates — some you could eliminate from their social media alone, others from a quick coffee meetup where you could tell within five minutes it wasn't him. But you were thorough. Methodical, even. You checked every single person who worked that event and cross referenced their schedules and their photos or the way they carried themselves. You kissed enough of them to feel ridiculous, scratched enough lottery tickets to fund someone's gambling addiction, and came up with absolutely nothing. None of them were him.
By the time you crossed off the last name, you were sitting on Sunoo's couch at two in the morning and staring at the list. Your phone was on three percent battery — you'd forgotten to charge it, naturally — and your back hurt from the terrible angle of the pull out bed that wasn't actually a bed. You'd checked everyone, like literally every single person who worked that party and the waiter you kissed wasn't on the list. Which meant either the catering company's records were incomplete, or he wasn't actually staff, or the universe was playing some kind of cosmic joke on you that you didn't have the energy to appreciate. Which, to be fair, it kind of was.
The next day, you end up at the cafe near your old office without really planning to. It's a Wednesday afternoon, and you're unemployed so technically you could go anywhere, but your feet just carried you here out of habit. The place where you used to grab coffee every morning before work, back when your life made sense. And well, getting there is its own disaster because the subway stopped between stations for fifteen minutes because of "signal problems," and when you finally got off, it started drizzling, not enough to justify an umbrella, just enough to make your hair frizz and your shirt stick to your skin. You stepped in a puddle that was deeper than it looked. A cyclist nearly hit you and yelled at you like it was your fault. By the time you push open the cafe door, you're already exhausted and it's only two PM. The place is busy and there's a line at the counter, and you join it, and you pull out your card and tap it against the reader. Declined. You stare at the screen. "That's weird. Can I try again?"
"Of course."
You try again. Declined again and your stomach sinks. You know you have money in your account, not a lot, but enough for a coffee. You checked this morning. "Um, hold on." You pull out your phone to check your bank app, but the wifi isn't connecting and your data is throttled because you haven't paid this month's phone bill yet. The barista is still smiling, but it's getting strained. There are people behind you in line. You can feel them staring.
"Do you have another card?" The barista asks gently.
"I — yeah, let me just—"
You're digging through your wallet which is a mess of receipts and lottery tickets just in case and old gift cards that probably don't have anything on them, when a voice behind you says, "I've got it."
You turn around. Jungwon is standing there, tall, dark hair pushed back from his face, wearing a nice jacket that looks expensive and he's smiling at you like this is the most normal thing in the world. "You don't have to—" you say.
"It's fine. Really." He's already holding out his card to the barista. "Just the coffee, right?"
"Yeah, but —"
"Consider it a good deed for the day." He taps his card and it goes through immediately, because of course it does.
The barista looks relieved. "Thanks. I'll have that right out."
You step aside to let him order and your face is burning. This is humiliating, because you used to be the person who got free coffee for being the thousandth customer. Now you're the person who can't afford a four dollar drink and needs a stranger to bail you out. He orders something and then moves to stand next to you while you both wait. "Thank you," you say, because you have to say something. "You didn't have to do that."
"I know. But you looked like you were having a rough day."
"Is it that obvious?" You smile, kind of embarrassed.
"Little bit." He's still smiling and it's such a cute apologetic smile. "I'm Jungwon, by the way."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N."
There's a pause, and you should probably just take your coffee and leave when it's ready, but something about him makes you stay. Maybe it's the way he's looking at you — not like he's hitting on you but like he's actually seeing you. Or maybe it's just that he bought you coffee and it feels rude to run. "Do you come here a lot?" he asks.
"Yeah, erm — I used to. I worked nearby."
"Worked?"
"Past tense."
"Ah." He doesn't pry, which you appreciate. "Well, it's a good cafe. Best coffee in the area."
"Yeah, it is."
The barista calls out your order and you grab it, and this is the part where you should say thanks again and leave. But he's still standing there and there's something about the energy between you that feels familiar in a way you can't place. Like you've met before, but you know you haven't because you would remember. "Can I ask you something?" he says.
"Sure."
"Do I know you from somewhere?"
Your heart does a weird little skip. "I don't think so. Why?"
"I don't know. You just seem familiar." You study his face trying to figure out if this is a line or if he actually means it. His eyes are dark and focused, and there's a small mole on his neck that you notice because you're staring now, which is weird. The barista calls his order, and he grabs his latte, and you both stand there for another second, neither of you moving. "Well," he says finally. "I hope your day gets better."
"Thanks. And thanks for the coffee."
"Anytime." He heads toward the door and you watch him go, and there's something tugging at the back of your mind, something you can't quite name. You pull out your phone and check your bank account — finally connected to the cafe wifi — and you see the Spotify fee. Because apparently your card declined not because you didn't have money, but because the bank decided to process a charge from three days ago that you'd forgotten about, and it pushed you into the negative. You close your eyes and take a long sip of your coffee. Of course. Of course that's what happened.
That night, lying on Sunoo's terrible excuse for a pull out couch, you stare at the ceiling and think about him. There was something about him that felt familiar, like you'd seen him before or heard his voice somewhere, and your brain keeps trying to make connections that don't quite fit. For a second you wonder if he could've been the waiter from the party, but that doesn't make sense. The guy who bought you coffee today was wearing a jacket that probably cost more than your rent used to cost, and he had this air about him like someone who's doing well, someone whose credit card doesn't get declined at cafes. The waiter from the party was working a catering gig and picking up shifts for extra cash, they can't be the same person. It's just your brain trying to find patterns where there aren't any because you're desperate and tired and running out of options.
The next week is a special kind of terrible. You go to four job interviews, and each one is worse than the last. The first company looks at your resume amd sees that you were fired and the interview is over before it really starts. The second place seems promising until the hiring manager asks why you left your last position, and you have to lie and you watch their face change in real time from interested to we'll-call-you-but-we-won't. The third interview goes fine until you spill coffee on yourself in the waiting room and walk into the meeting with a massive brown stain on your white shirt. The fourth place doesn't even bother to reject you in person, just sends an automated email two hours later.
By Friday, you're done. You've applied to thirty two jobs in the past weeks and heard back from eleven and been interviewed by seven, received absolute zero offers. Your savings account is running on fumes and even though Sunoo has been amazing, but you can tell he's getting tired of you sleeping on his couch even if he won't say it. You leave another failed interview on friday afternoon — they said they would keep your resume on file which is corporate speak for never contact us again — and you're walking down the street trying to decide what to do next when the sky opens up. A full downpour drenches you in seconds, you pull out the umbrella you bought at a dollar store last week and pop it open, and immediately one of the spokes snaps and the whole thing inverts itself. You stand there holding your broke umbrella with the rain pouring down on you and you legitimately cannot remember the last time something went right in your life.
That's when a car pulls up next to the curb, a black expensive looking car, and the window rolls down. "Hey!" You look over, and it's him — Jungwon. "You need a ride?" he asks, and he's leaning over from the driver's seat, looking at you with a look that might be concern or amusement but you can't tell.
You should say no and tell him you're fine, that you don't need hhelp from a stranger, but you're really soaking wet and your umbrella is destroyed, you have absolutely nowhere else to go. So you don't even hesitate, you yank open the passenger door and collapse into the seat, pulling the door shut behind you. The interior of the car is warm and dry, unlike you. Jungwon is staring at you. "You just got in my car."
"You told me to get in your car."
"I know, but—" He laughs surprised. "You didn't even think about it. What if I was going to kidnap you or something?"
"Are you going to kidnap me?"
"No, but —" He's still staring at you like he can't quite figure you out, and then he shakes his head smiling. "You're either very trusting or having a really bad day."
"Definitely the second one."
"That bad, huh?"
"You have no idea." You wipe rain off your face with your sleeve which doesn't help because your sleeve is soaked too. "I got kicked out of my apartment — well, it's not my apartment, it's my friend's apartment, but he's out of town and I lost the spare key he gave me, so now I'm locked out. I tried calling him but he's not answering, probably because he's on a plane or something. I tried calling my mom but she's not picking up either. I had a job interview earlier that went terribly, and before that I applied to like six places and haven't heard back from any of them, and I'm starting to think I'm unemployable. And now it's pouring rain and my umbrella broke, obviously, because why wouldn't it, and I was just walking around trying to find a hotel that doesn't cost a hundred bucks a night because that's literally all I have left in my bank account." You take a breath. "So yeah. Bad day." Jungwon is quiet for a moment. His hand are still on the steering wheel and you realize you just unloaded your entire life story on a gay you've met once. "Sorry," you say. "That was a lot."
"No, it's—" He glances at you. "That's really rough. I'm sorry."
"It's fine. It's not your problem."
"Where were you headed?"
"I don't know. Nowhere. Anywhere. I was just walking."
He's quiet again and you can see him thinking, weighing something. "Okay, this is going to sound weird," he says finally. "But I have a guest room in my apartment. It's just sitting there, and you clearly need a place to stay, and —" He stops and runs a hand through his hair. "No pressure. Seriously. I know I'm basically a stranger. But the offer's there if you want it."
You turn to look at him properly. You can tell he is nervous because his grip on the steering wheel is a little too tight, and he's not quite meeting your eyes. "You're offering to let me stay at your apartment," you say slowly.
"Just for the night. Or however long you need. I don't know. I'm not trying to be creepy, I swear. It's just — you seem like you're having the worst day ever, and I have space, so." He shrugs. "If you want to find a hotel instead, that's totally fine. I can drop you off wherever."
You should say no. Every true crime documentary you've ever watched is screaming at you to say no. But there's something about the way he's looking at you, like a little genuine and a little awkward like if he is not sure he's overstepping it, and that makes you think he's not a serial killer at all. Or at least probably not. Either way, you don't have a better option. "Okay," you finally say.
"Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay. Thank you very much, I hope you really don’t mind."
He blinks surprised. "You're sure?"
"Well I don't have anything to lose at this point. My life is already a disaster so… if you murder me at least I won't have to deal with being unemployed anymore."
He laughs, startled. "Okay, that's dark." He puts the car in drive and pulls away from the curb. "For the record, I'm not going to murder you."
"Good to know."
"I'm a musician, by the way. I manage a band. And we just signed with a label so I've been real busy with that, and the apartment I'm in now is way too big for just me, so the guest room is just sitting there empty." He's talking fast now like he's trying to justify the offer to himself as much as to you. "It has its own bathroom and everything so you'd have privacy."
"Oh, you manage a band?"
"Yeah, they're called ENHYPEN and we just signed with HYBE actually, you know? The label?"
Your stomach drops. "HYBE?"
"Yeah. You know them?"
"I — yeah, kinda." You don't know what to say. I mean, what were you supposed to say? Yes I've worked for them before and I got fired and now I'm banned from HYBE events for life?
"Oh, that's cool. Small world." He says.
"Yeah," you say faintly. "Small world." You're staring at the windshield now and watching the rain while your brain is trying to process this. Okay, so he works with HYBE, which means he wasn't working at the party as a waiter — he would've been there as industry or maybe not there at all. So Jungwon is definitely not the guy you kissed, which is good. That would've been too complicated. But there's still that nagging feeling of familiarity, sort of, like you've seen him before. Like there's something you're missing.
He pulls into an underground parking garage and parks in a spot marked with his unit number, and you follow him to the elevator and up to his floor, and the whole time you're expecting this to be a terrible decision. But when he unlocks the door and lets you in, his apartment is just normal. Obviously very nice, but normal, it looks like someone actually lives here. There are shoes by the door and a jacket thrown over the back of a chair, and a coffee mug on the counter. "Guest room is this way," he says as he leads you down a short hallway. Jungwon opens a door to reveal a small bedroom with a double bed, a dresser and window overlooking the street. "Bathroom's through there, there should be towels and stuff. Help yourself to whatever you need."
"Thank you," you say and you mean it. "Seriously, this is — thank you."
"It's no problem, really." He lingers in the doorway for a second. "I'll be in the living room if you need anything, okay? And, uh, just so you know — I'm not going to like, bother you or anything. You can lock the door if you want."
"Okay."
"Okay." He smiles, a little awkward. "Well. Goodnight, I guess."
"Goodnight, Jungwon." You smile, fondly and grateful. He closes the door then, and you can hear his footsteps retreating down the hall. You stand there in the middle of the room, basically dripping water onto the floor, thinking about how bizarre your life has become. A month ago you were at the top of your game and running a high profile event and everything was going perfectly. Now? Now you're staying in a stranger's apartment because you literally have nowhere else to go. So you peel off your wet clothes, find a towel in the bathroom and take the hottest shower you've had in weeks. When you get out, wrapped in a towel, you realize you don't have any clothes to change into — everything you own is locked in Sunoo's apartment.
You hear a knock on the door. "I left some clothes outside the door," Jungwon's voice comes through. "In case you need them. They'll probably be big but I swear they're clean."
So you open the door a crack, and there's a folded t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants sitting on the floor. "Thank you!" you call out.
"No problem." He calls back.
You change into his clothes — he's right, they're huge on you — and you climb into the bed, which is the most comfortable thing you've laid on in a month. You just lie there for minutes staring at the ceiling and trying to sleep. But your stomach is growling because you haven't eaten since this morning, and that was just a granola bar. You can smell something cooking from the living room. You could just stay there and avoid being awkward and try to sleep on an empty stomach — or, you could actually go out there and face the guy who's letting you stay in his apartment for free. So you get up and go out there. Jungwon is standing at the stove stirring something in a pan. He's changed out of his nice jacket into a hoodie and sweatpants. He looks comfortable, at ease. He glances over when he hears you come in. "Hey. Can't sleep?"
"Yeah, not really."
"Come in, I'm making fried rice. There's plenty if you need some."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, of course. Sit." He gestures to the small table near the kitchen. "It'll be ready in like two minutes."
So you sit and watch him cook. He moves around the kitchen with the kind of ease that suggests he does this a lot. He is tossing vegetables and rice in the pan, and adding sauce, adjusting the heat, and it smells incredible. "You cook a lot?" you ask.
"When I have time, yeah. It's cheaper than ordering out and I got used to it when I was broke." He grins over his shoulder. "You know, old habits."
"You were broke? Really?"
"Very broke actually. Like living off instant ramen and hoping the subway fare didn't go up kind of broke."
"What changed?"
"Well, lots of things, honestly." He plates the food and brings two bowls over to the table, sitting across from you. "And a lot of work, but mostly — luck, I think."
The word hangs in the air. Luck. You stare at your bowl of rice, your fork halfway to your moth and something twists in your chest. He said his life turned around recently because of luck — good luck that came out of nowhere. And yours fell apart at the exact same way. It's a coincidence, it has to be. You take a bite of rice and try to focus on the fact that it's delicious and not on the strange timing of everything.
When you look up, he's watching you with this easy smile and his chin was resting of his hand. You notice details you didn't catch before: like how his eyes are bigger than you realized, round and expressive in a way that makes him look younger than he probably is, and they have this slight upward tilt at the corned that reminds of you a cat. When he smiles, dimples appear, and there's something about the combination of his sharp jawline and soft features that's unfairly attractive. And well, you can't stop staring. Maybe being homeless and unemployed has made you forget how to act normal around people.
"So," he says breaking the silence. "What's your deal? Like before everything went wrong, what were you doing?"
"Uh — I was doing event stuff, you know? Planning and coordinating events, managing logistics. It was good, I mean I was good at it." You don't elaborate because you don't wanna talk about HYBE or the masquerade ball or how spectacularly everything fell apart. "What about you? How'd you get into managing a band?"
"I've known the guys for years. We all went to the same college and they were just messing around at first like playing at parties and open mics. But they were really good, and no one was taking them seriously so I just figured I'd help them out, you know? Book some shows and handle the boring stuff so they could focus on the music." He shrugs but there's pride in his voice. "And then it turned into a real thing, and we've been grinding for two years, like terrible — real terrible gigs and empty venues and labels telling me they're not marketable enough. It was rough."
"Well, but it seems that it worked out, right?"
"Eventually, yeah." He leans back in his chair and there's something vulnerable in the way he's looking at you now. "For a long time though I thought maybe we were just unlucky. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Like — I'd book a showcase and the venue would double book us. Or we'd record a demo and the file would corrupt. One time Sunghoon, our drummer, broke his wrist the day before a big audition because he went night rafting. Can you believe this guy? Yeah, anyways, it was like the universe didn't want us to succeed."
"That sounds awful, I'm sorry," you said even though you were smiling at how resilient he was.
"It was, but it also made us tougher, I think. Made us appreciate it more when things finally started working, you know?" He grins and there's that cute dimple again. "Although I'm not gonna lie it's nice not having to worry about whether my card's gonna decline every time I buy coffee." You laugh, but it's hollow because that's your life right now. He must notice because his expression softens. "Sorry, huh, that was — insensitive."
"No, really, it's fine. I'm glad things are working our for you." You smile at him because you mean it.
"They will for you too. I mean it." He says it with so much conviction that you almost believe him. "You seem like someone who's got their shit together, you know? Or had it together — you'll figure it out. I know it."
"You don't know that." You laugh small through your nose.
"Well, I have a good feeling." There's a pause and he's looking at you with this intensity that makes your stomach so something weird. You're very aware of the fact that you're sitting in his apartment and wearing his clothes and eating his food — and he's being so nice about all of it that it feels almost suspicious. Except it doesn't feel suspicious at all, it just feels genuine instead. "Why'd you get in my car though? Like you didn't even hesitate." He was being serious but he was also smiling, playfully even.
You think about it. "Honestly? I don't even know, I'm not usually like that, like I don't trust people that easily, is what I'm saying. But you seemed —" You pause, trying to find the right word. "Safe? I don't know. You just did."
"Safe," he repeats, something amused in his tone. "Well that's not usually the vibe I fo for but I'll take it."
"Really? What vibe do you usually go for?"
"Mhm, I don't know. Cool and mysterious?" Jungwon's grinning now, clearly joking. "Dangerously charming?"
"Dangerously charming?" You grin back.
"Too much?" You nod, but still smiling. "Okay, okay. I'll dial it back." But he doesn't, not really. There's this playful energy to him that feels effortless, like he's not trying to impress you but somehow he is anyway. "So," he says leaning forward slightly. "Since you're staying here, we should probably establish some ground rules."
"Oh! Ground rules?"
"Yeah, like, you can use the kitchen whenever. Help yourself to anything in the fridge — the wifi password is on a sticky note there, by the way. And if you need space, just let me know, okay? I won't be weird about it."
"Yeah, okay." You smile and nod.
"And —" He pauses, his smile turning a little softer. "If you need to talk or vent or whatever, I'm around. No judgment."
You laugh at that, but it's fondly. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
He doesn't answer right away. He just looks at you and there's something in his expression you can't quite read. "Because I've been where you are right now and I remember how much it sucked. And I wish someone had helped me out back then. So…" He shrugs. "Now I'm helping you."
You don't know what to say to that, because you're not used to people being king without expecting something in return and it's throwing you off balance. "Thank you, Jungwon. Really. I don't know what I would've done tonight if you hadn't shown up."
"Probably found a terrible hotel." You smile and he smiles back, and for a moment you just sit there, and it feels like the first good thing that's happened to you in weeks.
After dinner, Jungwon suggests watching TV and you both end up on the couch with a random cooking competition show playing in the background. He's leaning into the corner of the couch with one leg tucket under him, while you're on the other side holding a bowl of ice cream he gave you, and it's ridiculously domestic in a way that makes you feel both comfortable and slightly off kilter. He makes commentary about the contestant like "there's no way that souffle is going to hold, look at it," and you find yourself laughing more than you have in weeks.
The exhaustion hits you slowly though, and before you realize it, your head is tilting sideways and your eyes are getting heavier with each blink. The last thing you're aware of is the warmth of his shoulder under your cheek and the sound of his voice, but quieter now, saying something you don't quite catch.
The next morning you wake up in the guest bed. For a second you're disoriented, staring at the ceiling and trying to piece together how you got here. You sit up and realize you're tucked under the blanket, your phone plugged in on the nightstand, the screen showing it's fully charged. He must have carried you in here or woken you up and guided you, and either way he covered you with the blanket and made sure your phone was charging. The thoughtfulness of it makes you chest feel tight.
The smell of coffee drifts in from the kitchen so you get up, still waring his oversized shirt and sweatpants, and pad down the hallway. Jungwon's at the stove, flipping pancakes, and he's already dressed for the day with dark jeans and a sweater that looks soft but expensive, his hair styled in a way that suggests he actually tried this morning. He glances over when he hears you. "Morning. Sleep okay?"
"Yeah, really well actually." You lean against the doorway. "Did you carry me to bed?"
He stiffens. "You fell asleep on the couch and I didn't want to wake you up. I hope that's not weird." He says while he flips another pancake onto a plate.
"No, it's not — thank you."
"No problem." He sets the plate on the table along with a mug of coffee that's already poured. "I made pancakes. Wasn't sure if you were a breakfast person but I figured it was better safe than sorry."
You sat down, and the coffee is perfect and the pancakes are fluffy and golden. "You didn't have to do all this, Jungwon."
"I know but I wanted to." He leans against the counter with his own mug in hand, and he's watching you with that easy smile again. "I have to head out in a bit but make yourself at home, seriously. There's food in the fridge and the Tv remote is on the coffee table. And maybe text your friends? Let them know where you are. I don't want anyone thinking I kidnapped you."
You laugh. "Okay, yeah, I'll do that."
He finishes his coffee and sets the mug in the sink, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair. As he passes behind you on his way to the door, he pauses, and you feel his hand on your shoulder — just a brief respectful squeeze, reassuring. "Good luck today, okay?" He says, his voice soft. "I mean it." And then he's gone and you're left sitting at his kitchen table with a plate of pancakes me made and the lingering warmth of his hand on your shoulder.
You wander around the apartment eventually. It's not spooning exactly, but more like observing. There are photos on the shelves in the living room, candid shots of Jungwon with four other guys who you assume are the band. They're laughing in most of them, arms slung around each other, and they're clearly close. You study Jungwon's face in the photos and he looks genuinely happy, in a way that makes you smile without meaning to.
Your phone buzzes and it's Sunoo. "Hey!" you answer.
"Oh my god you're alive. I tried calling you last night and you didn't answer and I thought you died in a ditch somewhere."
"I'm fine, I just — It's a long story." So you tell him everything about the rain, the broken umbrella and Jungwon pulling up in his car and offering you to stay at his apartment and everything you talked about. Sunoo is silent for most of it, which is unusual for him, and when you finish, there's a long pause. "So let me get this straight," he starts slowly. "A hot stranger offered you a place to stay, made you dinner, let you sleep in his room and then made you pancakes this morning?"
"Yes."
"And you're sure he's not a serial killer?"
"Pretty sure."
"Okay. Okay, this is insane. But also — wait. What's his name again?"
"Jungwon."
"And he works with HYBE?"
"Yeah. He manages a band."
There's another pause, and then Sunoo says very carefully, "Do you think he could be the guy you kissed?"
Your stomach flips. "What? No. He's a band manager. He wasn't working the party as a waiter."
"Because think about it — he said his luck changed recently, right? Around the same time yours went to shit. And he's being weirdly nice to you. And you said there was something familiar about him."
"Sunoo, that's insane."
"Is it? Because from where I'm standing, the timing is very suspicious."
"No, he's not the waiter dude, he can't be. He has money and a nice apartment, he's managing a signed band. The waiter was working a catering gig, it doesn't even make any sense."
"Well, people can have two jobs."
You're quiet staring at the photos on the shelf. Jungwon smiling at the camera. Jungwon with his arm around one of his friends. Jungwon looking genuinely and effortlessly happy. "He's not the waiter," you say finally.
"Okay. If you say so."
"I do say so."
"Cool. But like —"
"Drop it Sunoo."
"Dropped." A pause. "Okay. But just so you know—" You hang up.
You meant to leave Jungwon's place that same day, you really did. The plan was simple: thank Jungwon for his hospitality and grab your things which was basically nothing, since everything you owned was locked in Sunoo's apartment, and find a hotel or a shelter, a bench, whatever. But then Jungwon came home that evening with takeout for two, and said "I figured you'd like it," in that casual way of his like it was obvious. So you stayed.
The next morning, he made coffee again and placed two cups without asking. You sat at his kitchen table in his clothes and it felt so easy that you almost forgot you were supposed to be leaving. Sunoo dropped your stuff on wednesday, what was left of it, anyway. And then you and Jungwon already had a routine by then. You'd wake up to the smell of coffee — he was always up before you and already dressed. You'd sit at the table scrolling through your phone while he ate standing up by the counter, checking messages, answering emails, muttering things like "Jake, please don't do that" into his phone without any context.
You felt guilty the first few days. You were literally a stranger living in his space and eating his food and taking up his bathroom. I mean, his guest bathroom, but still. But Jungwon didn't seem to mind at all, or if he did he just didn't care to say it. He just adjusted around you, making room for you, even. On Thursday, you tried bringing it up. "I should probably go back to Sunoo's," you said over dinner, he'd made pasta and it was somehow better than any pasta you'd ever had. "I don't want to impose."
He looked at you like you'd just said something genuinely confusing. "Why?"
"Because I'm living in your apartment? For free?"
"Yeah, and?"
"And that's weird and you don't really know me."
"Is it?" He twirled his fork. "I have an extra room. You needed a place, it's not that complicated."
"Jungwon —"
"Look, I get it. I'm saying I don't mind having a roommate. Specifically you." He pointed his fork at you. "You're quiet, you don't make a mess, and you actually watch good shows on TV. Those are the only three things I care about."
"Those are your criteria?"
"Yeah. High standards."
You laughed, he grinned, and that was the end of the conversation. So you stayed. But the bad luck didn't stop, obviously. Monday of the second week, you tried to cook breakfast while Jungwon was still in the shower. You burned the toast so badly that the smoke alarm went off, and it took you a few minutes trying to figure out how to turn it off, and by the time Jungwon came out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel and dripping water down his chest. You were standing on a chair waving a fish towel at the ceiling, and nothing happened.
"What happened?" he asked, his hair sticking up, and droplet sliding from his collarbone straight over the defined lines of his abdomen — eight perfect ridges, still glistening from the shower. Not that you were staring, anyway. (You were definitely staring.)
"I'm having toast problems." And that was all you managed to say.
He stared at the blackened bread on the counter, lips curving. "That's… a way to say it."
"Please don't laugh."
"I'm not laughing." Jungwon was absolutely laughing, low. He stepped closer and took the dish towel from your hand and reached up from the floor — didn't even need the chair, he was tall enough — fanning the alarm until it stopped. The movement made the towel slip just a dangerous inch lower on his hips and your eyes betrayed you again, dropping straight to the deep V line that disappeared beneath the fabric before you snapped them back up to his face.
But it was too late, because he noticed. "There you go," he murmured, his voice softer now like almost a tease, his eyes locked on yours for a beat too long.
Your face was burning, and you couldn't decide if you wanted to jump off the chair or melt into the floor. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." He tilted his head. "I'll make breakfast, okay?" He made breakfast every morning after that. You didn't ask him to, he just did it.
Wednesday night, you were on the couch with your laptop pretending to look at job listings but actually watching Jungwon play guitar in the corner of the living room. He didn't know you were watching — he had his eyes closed and his head tilted back slightly, fingers sliding over the strings with this slow precision that made your throat go dry. The soft melody he was picking out wasn't anything you recognized; it was just intimate and unfiltered.
His shirt was loose, the collar slipping just enough to show the sharp line of his collarbone and the faint shadow of definition along his chest every time he shifted. His long fingers moved with precision in a way that had your mind wandering to places it had no business going. You watched him for a while longer than you should have. Way longer, actually. Long enough that your pulse was thudding in your ears and you had to actually press your thighs together under the blanket, for some reason. When he opened his eyes, he caught you staring, but he didn't flinch or look away. He just held your gaze, and the corner of his mouth lifted in the tiniest knowing smile. He tilted his head a little, his hair falling into his eyes. "What?"
"Nothing." Your voice came out quieter than you meant, almost breathless. "That was nice." He smiled at that with the deep dimples, and went back to playing, but slower now, like he was performing just for you.
And oh boy — you were so screwed. Down bad and didn't even cover it. You were lying there pretending to scroll when you really were memorizing the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed of the soft exhale he let out between notes, or even the way his fingers looked wrapped around the neck of the guitar like they could wrap around anything else just as easily— Idiot. Absolute idiot.
The thing is: you knew you should leave. You knew it every single morning when you woke up in his guest bed. The luck wasn't coming back — you'd checked obsessively scratching lottery tickets and checking your horoscope and watching any sign that the universe was done punishing you. But nothing — you were still broke and still unlucky, but you stayed anyway. And it took you an embarrassingly amount of time to figure out why.
It wasn't the apartment, comfortable as it was, and it wasn't the food either, or the stability. It was actually Jungwon. It was the way he made you laugh without trying, or the way he remembered small things like that you didn't like your coffee too hot, or that you got cold at night, that you got anxious when you had too much free time. It was the shoulder squeeze and the good luck whishes every morning. It was the way he looked at you sometimes like you were the most interesting person in the room, even when the room was just the two of you eating takeout on his couch.
So yeah, you'd developed a crush on him. A bad one, really, the kind that made you hyper aware of every little interaction or the kind that made you smile at your phone for no reason after he texted you something stupid. The kind that kept you up at night staring at the ceiling replaying conversations in your head and analyzing his tone. It was pathetic, yeah, and you knew it. And you did absolutely nothing about it.
And it was a Thursday night when everything shifted. You were on the couch watching something neither of you was really paying attention to. Jungwon was on the other end scrolling through his phone. "How did you actually get the HYBE deal?" You asked kind out of nowhere, just curious about the situation in general.
He put his phone down and leaned back, thinking about it for a second. "Honestly? It was the most chaotic night of my life." He sat up straight and continued. "So we'd been trying for two years to get in front of anyone at a major label and nothing was working. We'd email or like, show up at showcases, leave demos with anyone who'd take them. And every single time, something would go wrong. Like that one time we got a showcase slot and I literally got hit by a bike on the way there. It was constant." He laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that meant it wasn't exactly that funny. "So I figured, okay, clearly doing things the normal way isn't going to work. So I said: I actually need to get creative."
"Creative how?" you asked.
"Well, I found out that HYBE was hosting this big event — a masquerade ball. And it was very exclusive, like invitation only, and all the big names in the industry were going to be there." He paused and you felt something cold start to settle in your chest. "So I got a job with the catering company."
Your own breathing suddenly felt very loud. You didn't move. "You got a job with the catering company," you repeated and your voice came out steadier than it should have.
"Yeah, a side gig really, I worked the event as a waiter." You couldn't believe his words and he kept going. "The whole time I was trying to find a guy named Yoon Jeonghan — he's HYBE's A&R director — so I could hand him our demo." Jungwon shook his head smiling at the memory.
You couldn't breathe properly. You were pretty sure you'd stopped breathing entirely at one point. "And did you find him?" you asked because you had to say something, and the silence could give you away.
"Not at first, actually. I spent most of the night just walking around trying to spot him, and then—" He stopped and laughed again. "Okay, this is going to sound insane. But I almost got him killed." He held a hand up before you could react. "Not on purpose! He just stepped off the curb without looking and a car was coming, and I just — I grabbed him and pulled him back. And after that, he was so grateful he actually took the CD was listening to it."
"That's—" you swallowed. "That's actually crazy."
"Right? The one night I needed everything to go right and get real lucky — I almost witnessed a hit and run." He laughed. "Yeah, but it worked out, he loved the demo and brought us in for a studio session, and the best is history."
You were staring at him. You knew you were staring at him and you couldn't stop because your brain was running through every single thing at once — the cafe, the way he felt familiar, the way he said I don't know, you just seem familiar — and it all made sense now. All of it. Jungwon was him. He was the waiter from the party. Jungwon was the guy you kissed. Jungwon was the reason your luck was gone. And you had been living with him for two weeks. And, accidentally-not-so-accidentally, falling for the guy. "Hey." Jungwon tilted his head, studying you. "You okay? You look kind of pale."
"Yeah I'm fine," you said too fast. "Just tired, I'm sorry."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I think I'm going to head to bed, actually."
"Okay." He didn't push, which was one of the things you liked about Jungwon, except right now you kind of wished he could because at least then you'd have an excuse to keep talking and to process this out loud, to said, wait, I have something to tell you. But you didn't say anything. You just stood up and walked down the hallway to the guest room, closed the door, leaned against it and immediately called Sunoo.
"I knew it, I knew it I fucking knew it!" He said. “So? What are you going to do? You're going to kiss him?"
You opened your mouth then closed it. Because the thing was — yes. You wanted to kiss Jungwon. You wanted to kiss him so badly it was ridiculous. But the reason you wanted to kiss him had nothing to do with getting your luck back, and that was the part that was making your chest feel like someone was sitting on it. "It's not that simple," you said instead.
"Why not? Kiss him and get your luck back, everybody wins."
"Yeah, everybody wins but Jungwon! I don't want to kiss him for the luck." Silence on the other end. "What do you mean?" Sunoo asked slower.
"I mean—" You slid down until you were sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest. "I mean I want to kiss him because I want to kiss him because I like him, like embarrassingly much." You said that way too fast, and Sunoo kept silent. "Sunoo?"
"So you like him."
"Yes."
"The guy whose apartment you're living in."
"Yes."
"The guy you kissed at that party and took your luck away."
"Yes, Sunoo, that guy."
"Okay. Okay, that's —" He paused. "That's actually really cute."
"Fuck you mean cute?! It's a disaster, Sunoo! Because if I kiss him now, I don't know if it's because I actually want to or because I need my luck back, and he doesn't know any of this — he doesn't know about the fortune teller, he doesn't know I was the girl at the party, he doesn't know I've been living here partly because I'm trying to figure out how to get my luck back—"
"Okay, slow down. When did you start liking him? Like actually liking him?"
"I don't know. Gradually? I think it started when he made me fried rice the first night and then it just—" You made a vague gesture even though he couldn't see you. "Got worse."
"So you have a crush on him."
"I have more than a crush, dude, I think about him all the time and I memorize the way he laughs and I get excited when he comes home. Like yesterday he pushed my hair out of my face and I almost passed out, Sunoo! I almost passed out!"
"Okay so it's beyond a crush — it's a super crush."
"I know."
"Like, really down bad."
"I said I know, Sunoo!"
He was quiet for a moment, and you could practically hear him grinning through the phone. "So what's the problem, exactly? You like him and you need to kiss him. Seems like the universe is literally giving you an excuse to do the thing you already want to do."
"The problem is that it's not honest! I can't kiss him just because I want my luck back, that's using him."
"But you said you want to kiss him anyway."
"I do."
"So then it's not using him. It's just—multitasking."
"That's not —" You took a deep breath and laughed despite yourself. "That's not how that works. Plus, what if he doesn't feel the same way?"
"Well, you said he makes you breakfast, carries you to bed, he gets you groceries. I think he feels the same way." You leaned your head back against the door and stared at the ceiling. From somewhere in the living room, you could hear the faint sound of Jungwon's guitar again. You were quiet for a long time after that just listening to the guitar, thinking about his hands and his smile and the way he said good luck to you every morning like he actually meant it.
So, needless to say, the rest of the week was pure torture. Now that you knew that it was Jungwon who you had kissed at that party, you couldn't stop thinking about it — how his lips felt, and the memory lingered in your mind, and somehow the fact that he was the most charming and gentlest man you've ever met, made everything even more devastating. When he reached past your for the coffee mug in the morning, his arm brushed yours, and your skins burned for ten minutes after as if he'd dragged his fingers down your spine instead. Or when he stretched out on the couch and his shirt rode up just enough to show that tight strip of toned abdomen, the faint happy trail disappearing under his waistband, you had to physically look away before you did something stupid like trace it with your tongue. You tried to act normal you really did. But knowing what you knew now made everything feel different. Every interaction had this layer underneath it, like this secret weight that made your chest tight and your pulse throb whenever he got too close. And he kept getting close.
Like friday morning, he leaned over your shoulder to show you something on his phone, and his chest brushed your back, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, and you almost choked on your coffee. He patted your back laughing, and said "You okay?" and you said "fine, went down the wrong pipe," which was such a lie but he didn't question it, just let the hand rest there a beat too long, his thumb brushing the edge of your shoulder blade like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
He caught you staring at him on sunday, while he was playing the guitar again, and instead of looking away like a normal person, you just said "What?" and he smiled slowly, dimples carving deep, and said "Nothing, just glad you're here." His voice dropped on the last word, his eyes flicking down to your mouth for half a second before meeting yours again, and the air between you felt thick enough to taste.
And you almost said it right then, almost told him everything. But you didn't, because you were a coward, and because some part of you wasn't ready to lose this, whatever this was. On monday, he brought something up. "I have something to ask you. The showcase for ENHYPEN, it's this friday. I want you to come."
You blinked. "To the show?"
"Yeah, backstage, obviously. You'd be there with me the whole time." He said it casually like it was obvious, like there was no reason you wouldn't want to. "I think it'd be good to have you there."
"Me? Why?"
He shrugged but there was something in his eyes that said that he wasn't quite serious but wasn't entirely joking either. "Things have been going really well lately. And a lot of that started happening around the same time you showed up."
You laughed like you couldn't help it. "I'm not bringing you luck, Jungwon."
"Aren't you though?" He tilted his head, half smile pulling at his mouth. "Think about it. Before you, everything was falling apart."
You thought about it. You thought about it a lot, actually, because it wasn't much of a coincidence at all. It was literally your luck, living inside him, because you kissed him at a party and the universe decided to redistribute. "I seriously doubt I'm your good luck charm, Jungwon," you said, keeping your voice light.
"Well, I seriously doubt you're not." He pointed his fork at you. "So come, please? For me?" He was faking a pout now, and he was adorable.
"But what if I make everything worse?"
"You won't."
"You don't know that."
"I have a good feeling." He was smiling now, and it was devastating, and you hated how easy it was to say yes to him.
"Okay, fine. I'll come." You finally said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
You smiled and took a sip of your coffee and didn't say that's because your good luck is literally my good luck that you stole when we kissed at that masquerade ball and you don't even know it. But you almost, almost did.
The venue was bigger than you expected — it wasn't a stadium or anything like that obviously, but it had real lightning and a real sound equipment and a proper stage. Jungwon walked you through the backstage area, nodding at crew member and checking in with the sound engineer, all while keeping one hand loosely on the small of your back in a way that was probably just him guiding you through the crowd but it felt like way more than that.
The dressing room was small and chaotic. When you walked in, all four of them were there: Jay was passing by the door, Sunghoon was sitting on a bench with his eyes closed, drumsticks tapping against his knee, Jake was lying on the floor, I mean literally on the floor, staring at the ceiling while Heeseung was looking at himself in the mirror, adjusting his jacket for what was clearly not the first time.
"Everyone," Jungwon said, gesturing to you. "This is—"
"Yeah, bro, we all know who she is," Jay interrupted without stopping his pacing. "Nice to meet you by the way, I'm Jay."
"It's not—"Jungwon ran a hand through his hair, while you nodded at Jay, smiling. Jungwon looked at Jake. "Jake? Why are you on the floor?"
"I'm focused," Jake said.
"You're lying down."
"Yeah, I focus better horizontally."
Heeseung turned from the mirror and looked at you properly for the first time, and he studied you for a second, smiling. "So you're the reason Jungwon's been in a good mood lately."
"I— What?" Jungwon says.
"You literally smile now, like, at things. It's weird."
"I smiled before," Jungwon said flatly.
You were grinning and you couldn't stop grinning. Jungwon caught your expression and shot you a look that was half embarrassed and half please help me, and you just shrugged enjoying this way too much. Jake finally got up from the floor and dusted himself off, walking over to you. "Nice to officially meet you. We've heard a lot."
"All good things," Jay added quickly, glancing at Jungwon.
"Mostly good things," Sunghoon corrected.
"Okay, everyone out," Jungwon said herding them toward the door. "Warm up. Sound check is in ten. Move."
They filled out one by one, Heeseung even winked at Jungwon in a way that made Jungwon pinch the bridge of his nose, and then it was just the two of you. The room was quieter than it had any right to be at this point, considering a few minutes ago it was full of chaos. Jungwon was leaning against the vanity counter with his arms crossed, and the tension in his shoulders had shifted from manager mode to something else. "So," he said. "They like you, apparently."
"They were just teasing you." You sat down in one of the chairs, calmly, still looking at him. "You okay? For tonight?"
"Nervous." He said it simply. "This is the biggest thing we've ever done, so if it does well… it could change everything for us. And if it doesn't—"
"It will."
He looked at you. "You don't know that."
"Well, I have a good feeling." You echoed his own words back at him, and he laughed, some of the tension in his jaw loosened. He pushed off the counter and walked toward you. You just stayed there watching him move easily and unhurried. He stopped right in front of your chair, close enough that you had to tilt your head back to look up at him.
"Thank you for being here, I mean it." He said, his voice was quieter now and his thighs were bracketing yours.
"Of course. I wouldn't miss it."
He held your gaze for a beat too long, and there was that thing, that charge that had been building between you for weeks. You could feel it in the air and in the way his eyes dropped just for a second to your mouth, lingering on your lips, before coming back up to meet your eyes again. You moved then. Not toward him, no, but away — because you were nervous. And then, of course, a disaster happened.
Your foot caught on the leg on the chair on your way up, the chair rolled backward and you stumbled, your arms pinwheeling, and you were about to hit the floor when his hands caught you; one at your waist, his fingers splaying wide over the curve of your hip, and the other one gripping your arm. Jungwon pulled you forward into him, hard enough that you slammed right into his chest, your breasts pressing flush against the hard planes of him.
Both of you froze. His hands were still on you, one at your waist digging in just enough to feel like a claim, and the other one on your arm was sliding up to your bicep, thumb stroking once and slow. Your palms were flat against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat under your fingers pounding like it wanted out. You looked up and his face was just inches from yours, his eyes were wide and his lips were slightly parted.
Neither of you moved, god, neither of you even breathed. And then, from somewhere outside the dressing room door, Jay's voice cut through the silence. "Jungwon! Sound check, let's go!" Jungwon closed his eyes, and you watched his jaw tighten, and he took a slow breath through his nose, like he was physically forcing himself to come back to reality, but he didn't even move his hands. "Jungwon," Jay called again. "Now man. We're running behind."
"Coming," Jungwon said, but his voice came out rougher than he probably intended, like the sound of a man on the edge, and he didn't take his eyes off you.
You should have stepped back or laughed it off, made some joke and let him do his job. But you kept your hands on his chest, fingers slightly curling into the fabric of his shirt, and his hands were still on you and you couldn't move. You couldn't do anything except stand there and look at him and want him so badly it physically hurt. He must have seen it on your face, the raw need, because something in his expression shifted like the restraint cracked just for a second — that's when he kissed you.
It was the kind of kiss that feels like something breaking open. His hand was sliding from your waist to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair and gripping hard, pulling you in, his mouth hard against yours and certain, like he'd been thinking about doing this for weeks now. Because well, he kind of was. And you were shocked, genuinely shocked, your eyes going wide for a second before your brain caught up with your body, and you kissed him back.
You kissed him back like you'd been starving for it because you have. Your fingers curled into the front of his shirt pulling him closer until there was no space left. His other hand came up to your jaw, tilting your head exactly how he wanted, and the kiss deepened in a way that made your knees week. His tongue was sliding against yours slow and deep, claiming every inch, and the sound he made low in his throat was quiet enough that only you could hear it, but it vibrated through your chest and straight between your legs, making you ache for him.
And then when he finally pulled back, not all the way but just enough to breathe, his forehead rested against yours, his thumb still tracing along your jaw, then slowly dragging down the column of your throat. You could feel him breathing hard, his chest rising and failing against your hands. "Jungwon!" Jay's voice again, closer now, and you could hear the footsteps in the hallway.
Jungwon squeezed his eyes shut for a second like he was in actual pain. Then he let go of you and stepped back. "I have to go now, okay?" he said. His voice was wrecked, hoarse. He looked at you one time time, his eyes ranking over your swollen lips like he was trying to memorize you and burn the image into his brain for later. He turned then and walked toward the door.
"Wait," you said, but he was already gone. The door swung shut behind him and you just stood there with your lips still tingling, your heart hammering so hard you could actually hear it in your ears, and you pressed your fingers to you mouth.
You kissed Jungwon. Jungwon kissed you. And somewhere in the back of your mind, buried under everything in an almost insignificant thought flickered through: Did it work?
You were about to check like pulling out you phone or find a scratch off app, anything, when you heard noise. Commotion behind the door — security guys sprinting down the hallway outside the dressing room, someone yelling something you didn't catch it and the sound of walkie talkies crackling. You then opened the door and stepped out into the corridor and the first person you saw was Jake, running full speed.
"Jake!" He almost ran right past you but you grabbed his arm. "What's going on?"
He stopped out of breath and his eyes were wide. "Sunghoon's gone."
"What do you mean gone? Gone where?"
"Bro, we don't know. He was right there one second and someone said he fell into some kind of pit behind the stage and now nobody can find him and the show starts in ten minutes and we're literally missing our drummer."
You just didn't know how to react. "He fell into a pit?! Like a hole? How?"
"I don't know! He said he was looking for the bathroom!"
A security guard jogged past you both, and the whole backstage area had descended into this not so controlled panic with people moving fast and everyone looking at everyone else. You let go of Jake's arm. "Go, help them look, I'll find Jungwon."
So you turned the corner toward the main backstage corridor, and that's when you spotted Yoon Jeonghan. He was standing near the production booth with his phone pressed to his ear — he did not look happy at all. He hung up and started pacing, muttering something that you were pretty sure included several words you wouldn't repeat in polite company. Then he saw you, blinked and stopped pacing. "Y/N? What are you doing here?"
"I'm — it's complicated. I'm here with Jungwon."
He looked at you then and it looked like something was flickering across his face, maybe amusement, but he probably didn't have the time for it because he was already shaking his head. "Look, I found out what happened at the ball, and what they did to you, kicking you out like that, was completely unfair." He pointed at you. "If you want a job, I can make it happen. We have an events division and frankly you're way more qualified than half the people we have."
Your mouth opened and then closed. "You serious?"
"I'm dead serious, but right now—" he gestured at the chaos around both of you. "Well, right now I have a band that's supposed to go on stage in fifteen minutes and one of their members apparently fell into a hole. And I just signed theses guys last month."
"Okay, I can fix this."
Jeonghan stared at you. "Fix what?"
"This situation. Give me ten minutes."
He looked at you trying to figure it out what you meant. "Ten minutes."
"Yeah. Just — just trust me on this one."
He held up his hands. "I literally have no other option right now, so, cure. Ten minutes. Go."
And finding Jungwon in the chaos of that venue was harder than it should have been. You checked the production booth; not there. The main dressing room, also empty. The corridor near the stage entrance and even security, but no Jungwon. You checked the bathroom, the catering area, even poked your head into a storage closet just in case but nothing.
And then you finally spotted him near the loading dock at the back of the venue, sitting on a concrete step with his elbows on his knees, staring at the ground. His hair was a mess, his jacket was halfway off one shoulder, and he looked like someone who had just watched his entire life fall apart in real time. "Hey," you said as you approached him.
He looked up. "Hey." You sat down next to him, and for a second, neither of you said anything. "Everything is falling apart," he said and his voice was flat and tired. "Sunghoon fell into some kind of maintenance shaft and nobody can find him. The lighting rig almost came loose during the pre show check. Jay's mic has been cutting in and out for the last hour. And the sound engineer just told me there's a feedback issue he can't figure out." He laughed, but it was hollow. "It's like it all started again. All at once." He dropped his head into his hands. "I thought it was over, I thought the bad luck was done."
You looked at him and your chest ached. Because you knew, you knew exactly why this was happening. Everything that could go wrong was going wrong, right on schedule because apparently that's how it works when the universe decides to rebalance.
And it was your fault. So you grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him toward you and kissed him again. You grabbed him hard enough that he stumbled forward, one hand instinctively coming up to catch himself against the step, and your other hand was shaking, and your eyes were burning in a way that had nothing to do with the dusty air. His hand came up to the back of your neck pulling you closer, responding almost immediately.
When you pulled back, you were breathing hard, and he was looking at you with this expression that was equal parts confused and completely wrecked. "What was that ab—"
And then the music started. Not the pre show stuff but the opening notes of their first song and the crowd erupted. You both turned toward the stage entrance, and that's when you saw through the side door, visible from where you were sitting and there, climbing up onto the drum platform from a maintenance ladder behind the kit, covered in dust grinning like an idiot, Sunghoon. He'd been in the maintenance shaft the entire time. The shaft that connected directly to the raised platform behind the drum kit.
Jake was already at the mic, laughing. Heeseung was strapping on his guitar, shaking his head. Jay caught Sunghoon's eye from across the stage and just mouthed something that made Sunghoon flip him off. The show was starting, so Jungwon stood up slowly, still staring at the stage and then he turned back to you. "How did—" he started.
"Go," you said. "They need you."
He looked at you, at the stage and then back at you. "But I really want to kiss you again right now," he said.
"Later." You pushed him gently toward the stage door. "Go. Work. Be amazing."
He took a step backward still looking at you and that half smile pulling at his mouth. "You know we're not done talking about this right?"
"I know."
He turned and jogged toward the stage, and you watched him disappear through the side door and then you sat back down on the concrete step, alone, and pressed your hands to your face. And somewhere in your chest, something was cracking open. You stayed there for a minute, maybe two, trying to breathe normally, trying to think. Then you got up, wiped your face with the back of your hand, and walked back inside. You could see the stage from here but not all of it, just a sliver through the gap in the curtain. The crowd was already on their feet, phones up, and Jungwon was standing at the side of the stage with his headset on, watching them.
This was everything they'd been working toward, everything he'd been working toward. And it was happening because you kissed him, because you gave him back his luck. Your vision blurred and you blinked but it didn't help, so you just turned and walked away before anyone could see.
The apartment was too quiet when you got back and you stood in the doorway for a second, staring at the living room. Two coffee mugs sat on the table, one of them yours, the handle chipped from when you'd knocked it against the sink last week. The blanket you used at night was folded on the chair. It looked lived in, it looked like two people lived here. Because it did.
You went to the guest room and started packing and since you didn't have much it took maybe ten minutes. When you were done, you sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the far wall. The apartment was so quiet you could hear the refrigerator humming in the kitchen, so you thought about Jungwon coming home later, late probably, after one of his best nights ever and finding you gone.
You thought about the look on his face and your throat got tight. You found a notepad and you stared at the blank page for a long time before you picked up the pen.
jungwon,
i'm sorry. i know that's not enough, but i don't know what else to say. i can't stay. i thought i could figure this out, but i can't. every time i'm around you, things get complicated, and i don't know how to fix it without making everything worse. you're going to do incredible things. tonight proved that. you and the guys are going to be huge, and you deserve all of it. you worked so hard for this.
thank you for everything. for letting me stay. for the coffee and the terrible toast that one time. for being kind when i didn't deserve it.
i hope you understand.
You stopped and stared at what you'd written and thought about adding more — something about the masquerade ball, the fortune teller, the kiss — but what would that even do? He'd think you were losing it and honestly maybe you were. You signed it with just your name and left it on the kitchen counter, then you grabbed your bag, took one last look around, and left.
Sunoo opened the door before you could knock. "I saw you coming up the street," then he looked at your bag and at your face. "Oh no."
"Can I come in?"
"Obviously, come in." Sunoo sat down next to you and didn't say anything. "I kissed him, everything fell apart and then I kissed him again at the venue, right before the show. And then everything started going right again. Because I gave him the luck back." You looked up and your eyes were burning. "And if I stay, if I keep doing this, I'm going to ruin his life because every time I kiss him, it switches. I can't do that to him."
"Did you tell him any of this?"
"No."
"So you just left."
"I left a note."
"Are you serious right now?"
"What was I supposed to do Sunoo?!"
"I don't know, maybe talk to him? Like an adult?"
"And say what? Hey, by the way, I'm the reason your life fell apart and then got better and if we keep kissing it's going to keep yo-yoing forever?"
"Yes. Exactly that."
You looked at him. "He'd think I'm insane."
"He probably already thinks you're a little insane. You've been living in his apartment for weeks." Sunoo leaned back, arms crossed. "He's going to come looking for you, you know."
"Then I won't answer."
"You're going to hide in my apartment forever?"
"If I have to," you said. Sunoo made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "You're the dumbest smart person I know. This is genuinely the worst decision you've ever made." Your phone buzzed then and it was Jungwon, and you and Sunoo looked at it.
jungwon: show was amazing. where are you? want to grab food?
Your chest hurt and flipped the phone face down on your lap. You didn't answer, you just sat there on the world's worst couch and tried not to think about the way Jungwon's hand had felt on the back of your neck. The way he'd looked at you before he ran to the stage. The way he'd said you know we're not done talking about this, right? And then your phone buzzed again.
jungwon: you okay?
You turned it off. And you were absolutely miserable for the next few days. You kept your phone completely off shoved in the bottom of your bag where you wouldn't be tempted to turn it back on just to see if he'd texted again. You barely left Sunoo's apartment, you sat on the couch with the blanket pulled up to your chin and stared at the TV without actually watching anything. Sunoo would leave for work in the morning and come back in the evening with takeout, and you'd eat because he was looking at you like he was worried you'd forget to, and then you'd go back to staring at nothing.
One day you finally turned your phone on just for a minute, just to see. Fifteen missed calls and twenty three texts, most of them from Jungwon. A few from numbers you didn't recognize — probably the guys, or Jeonghan. But you didn't read any of them, you turned the phone off again and handed it to Sunoo and told him to hide it somewhere you wouldn't find it.
Eventually you started to feel like a person again. Not a good person, not a functional person, but a person. You showered and you changed out of the clothes you'd been wearing for days straight. You sat at Sunoo's tiny kitchen table and drank coffee and stared out the window at the street below and thought about what you were going to do next. You couldn't stay here forever, Sunoo's apartment was barely big enough for him, and you were taking up his couch and his space and his emotional energy and it wasn't fair. You needed to figure out a plan so you called your mom and told her you were staying there for a while, and she obviously said yes.
You packed what little you had and tried not to think about the apartment you'd left behind, tried not to think about Jungwon. You tried not to think about the way he'd kissed you in the dressing room, or the way his hand had felt on your neck or the way he'd looked at you like you were something worth keeping. But you thought about it anyway, you thought about it all the time, actually. It sat in your chest like a weight you couldn't shift heavy and constant and aching in a way that made it hard to breathe sometimes.
So when the day came, you sat on a bench in the park across from your old building with your bag at your feet, an hour before your train to your hometown was supposed to leave. Sunoo had offered to come with you to the station but you'd told him no, that you wanted to do this part alone, and he'd hugged you at the door and told you to text him when you got to your mom's and you'd promised you would. Now you were just sitting, watching people walk by — couples holding hands, someone walking a dog. Just people living their normal luck-curse-free lives.
You thought about everything you'd had a month ago. The job, the apartment. the confidence that came from being someone who had their life together, someone people looked at and thought had it figured out. Thought about how you'd lost all of that in one night. But none of it — none of the job or the apartment or your carefully constructed life — hurt as much as this. Losing Jungwon hurt more than all of it combined.
You were standing there staring at the pavement and trying to convince yourself that leaving him was the right then to do, when you heard your name. Quiet and almost hesitant like the person saying it wasn't sure it was really you. You looked up and Jungwon was standing ten feet away and he looked wrecked. His hair was a mess and he had dark circles under his eyes, looking like he hadn't a good night of sleep in days.
He looked at you and his expression did something complicated — relief, anger, hurt, all of it at once. "I've been looking for you everywhere," he said.
You stood up. "Jungwon—"
"You left." His voice cracked a little on the word. "You just — you left a note and disappeared, and I've been calling you for a week, and Sunoo wouldn't tell me where you were, and I thought—" He stopped and took a breath. "I thought something happened to you."
"I'm fine."
"Are you though? Because you're sitting on a bench with a suitcase looking like you're about to get on a train and never come back." You didn't say anything because he was right, so he took a step closer. "Can we talk? Please. Just five minutes, that's all I'm asking."
"Jungwon, I can't—"
"Five minutes."
You looked at him, at the way his jaw was tight and at the way he was looking at you like if you said no he might actually break. "Okay, five minutes."
He sat down on the bench. You sat next to him leaving space between you, and for a long moment neither of you said anything. "Why did you leave?" He asked eventually.
You stared at your hands. "It's complicated."
"So explain it to me." His eyes were pleading.
So you took a breath and let it out slowly. "Do you remember the masquerade ball? The one you worked as a waiter?"
He blinked. "Yeah?"
You turned to look at him. "Do you remember kissing someone that night?"
He went very still. "I—" He stopped. "Yeah. I do."
"That was me."
The silence that followed was so thick. "You," he said slowly. "You were the girl—"
"Yeah."
You watched him try to piece it together, watched his brain work through it. "So that's why you seemed familiar. That's why—" He stopped again. "Wait. If you knew it was me, why didn't you say anything?"
"Because it's not just that." You were talking faster now, in a rush because if you stopped you'd lose your nerve. "There was a fortune teller at the party. She told me my luck was about to run out and I thought she was full of it, but then we kissed, and everything in my life fell apart. I lost my job, my apartment, everything. And at the same time, your life got better. The band got signed, you moved into a nicer place, everything started going right for you."
He was staring at you. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying the kiss transferred my luck to you, Jungwon. I know how that sounds, I know I sound insane and I know you probably think I'm completely insane right now, but I swear I'm telling the truth. The fortune teller said it happens sometimes — when someone with a lot of good luck kisses someone with a lot of bad luck, it balances out apparently. And that's what happened to us I think." Jungwon didn't say anything, looking at you like he was trying to figure out if you were serious. "And then, when I kissed you again at the venue, before the show — I gave you the luck back. That's why everything went right that night. That's why the show was perfect. But it also means I took it away from myself again, and if I stay, if we keep doing this, it's just going to keep switching back and forth, and I can't—" Your voice broke. "I can't keep doing that to you. I can't ruin your life every time I want to be near you."
The silence stretched out. A car drove by. Someone laughed on the other side of the park. The world kept moving and you sat there waiting for him to say something, anything. "So you left because you thought you were protecting me. By disappearing without explaining any of this."
"I didn't think you'd believe me."
"You didn't even give me the chance, Y/N!"
You stood up and you looked down at your hands. "I know."
"Do you?" He stood up with you and his voice was sharper. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you made a decision for both of us without asking what I wanted. You decided I was better off without you and just left."
"You are better off—"
"Don't." He cut you off. "Don't tell me what I want. Don't tell me what's better for me."
"Jungwon—"
"I don't care about the luck." He was looking right at you now and his eyes bright and intense. "I don't care if it switches every time we're together. I don't care if everything falls apart again. I just want you to stay."
Your throat closed up. "You don't know what you're saying—"
"I know exactly what I'm saying." He reached out and took your hand. "I'm saying I don't care about any of it. Not even the band or the contract because it doesn't mean anything if you're not there with me."
You were crying now. You didn't know when it started, but your face was wet and your vision was blurred and you couldn't stop. "I'm going to ruin everything for you," you said.
"Then ruin it," he said simply. "I don't care."
"Jungwon—"
"Stay." His voice broke on the word. "Please. Just stay."
You looked at him, at how you were completely in love with this guy and you thought about the train ticket in your pocket — the plan to start over, the clean break you wanted. And then you thought about his laugh, about the way he looked at you like you were the best part of his day. You were completely in love with Jungwon.
"I'm scared, Won," you whispered.
"I'm scared too, love. But we will make it work. I promise you." His eyes were glassy and he was looking at you with that look — that down bad look he gave you countless times before.
You were so tired of running. "Okay."
He blinked. "Okay?"
"Okay. I'll stay."
For a second he didn't move like he was afraid he'd heard you wrong, like if he reacted too fast you'd take it back. And then his face broke into this smile, the one that made your chest ache because it was so openly, devastatingly happy. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He pulled you toward him and you went, and then his arms were around you and his face was buried in your hair and you could feel him breathing, could feel the way his hands gripped the back of your jacket like he was holding on for dear life. "Don't do that again," he said into your shoulder. "Don't just leave."
"I won't."
"Promise."
"I promise." He pulled back just enough to look at you and his hands came up to your face, thumbs brushing away the tears you hadn't realized were still falling. His eyes were searching yours like he was checking to make sure you meant it. "I'm sorry," you said. "I should've told you. I should've—"
"Stop," he said gently. "Don't apologize."
"But—"
"We'll figure it out. The luck thing, all of it. I don't care how complicated it is. We'll figure it out together."
And then, finally, he kissed you carefully like he was giving you a chance to change your mind, but when you leaned into him he kissed you deeper. His hand slid to the back of your neck and his fingers threading into your hair, and the other stayed on your face. When he pulled back, it was only for a second. "Hi," he said, and there was that smile again.
"Hi," you giggled.
And then he kissed you again, this time with more confidence and more certainty, his mouth moving against yours like he was making up for lost time. You kissed him back just as hard, hands sliding up to his shoulders, then to his neck. He pulled back again with his forehead resting against yours. "One more," he murmured.
"You're keeping count?"
"No. Definitely not keeping count."
He kissed you again, and again, and again, and you didn't care that you were in public, that people were probably staring, that your train was leaving in forty minutes and you weren't going to be on it. When he finally pulled away, you were both breathing hard, and he was grinning like an idiot. "I have no idea who has the luck right now."
You laughed and it felt like something breaking open in your chest, something that had been wound too tight for too long. "Me neither."
"Good. Let's keep it that way." He kissed you one more time and when he pulled away he kept his forehead pressed to yours, eyes closed, just breathing with you. "So," he said after a minute. "What do we do about the train ticket?"
"I don't know. Refund?"
"I vote for that option."
His hand sliding down to lace with yours and he looked at you like he was still trying to convince himself you were real. "Come home," he said. "Please. Come back to the apartment."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. I've been sure since the day you showed up soaking wet with a broken umbrella." He squeezed your hand. "I want you there. I want you to stay."
You looked at him and you thought about the place that slowly started feeling like yours too. "Okay, let's go home."
His smile was so bright it could've powered the entire city. He grabbed your bag off the ground and you walked next to him with your hand still in his, and he didn't let go the entire way back. Not when you crossed the street, not when you got to his building, not even when he had to dig his keys out of his pocket with his free hand. When you got to the apartment, he dropped your bag by the door and turned to you. "For the record," he said, "I'm never letting you leave again."
"Is that a threat?"
"Yeah, and I'm definitely kidnapping you this time."
You laughed and then he kissed you again right there in the doorway, and you kissed him back, and he didn't break the kiss right away. Instead he backed you up slowly step by step until your back met the door with a soft thud. His hands slid up to frame your face and he pulled back just enough to look at you. "God, baby," he murmured and he pressed a finger to your lips, then replaced it with his mouth with a quick teasing kiss. "I'm gonna kiss you so many times tonight the universe is gonna run out of bad luck and just start handing us infinite good fortune." He laughed softly against your mouth. "Starting right now."
Before you could answer he kissed you again deeper, his tongue sliding slow against yours. His hands moved, one sliding down to grip your hip and the other tangling in your hair, and he pressed his body flush against yours pinning you gently but firmly to the door. You made a small needy sound into his mouth and he groaned in response, pulling back just enough to whisper against your lips. "You're so perfect, fuck—"
Your knees went weak and he must have felt it because his arm wrapped around your waist steadying you, and then he scooped you up like you weighed nothing. You gasped as your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips and your arms looped around his neck. "Easy," he said grinning as he carried you toward the kitchen. "I've got you."
He set you down on the counter but he didn't step back. Instead he stepped between your legs with his hands sliding up your thighs to rest at your hips. He leaned in close and said "look at me," softly, his voice dipping into that gentle command. You did and his eyes were locked on yours, intense, adoring, a little hungry, and he tilted his head. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he murmured. "My pretty girl." His thumb dragged along your bottom lip parting it slightly. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to have you like this."
He kissed you again while one hand slid up under your shirt, his palm flat against the bare skin of your back pulling you closer. You moaned softly and he rewarded you with a low hum, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth along your jaw down the side of your neck. He nipped lightly at your collarbone then soothed it with his tongue. "Tell me if it's too much," he said.
You nodded breathless. "I want you, Won."
His smile turned downright sinful. Jungwon kissed you again more possessively, his hands roaming freely now, one sliding up to cup the back of your neck and the other slipping under your shirt to trace the curve of your spine. You tugged at his hair pulling him closer, and he groaned into your mouth, hips rocking forward once, letting you feel exactly how much he wanted you. He broke the kiss just enough to breathe. "Fuck," he whispered. "Are you okay? We can slow down. Or stop, whatever you need."
You shook your head quickly and your fingers tightening in his hair. "Don’t stop, please"
His eyes searched yours for a long second. "Okay." He kissed you once more then pulled back just enough to look down between you, at where your thighs were still wrapped loosely around his hips on the counter. His hands settled on the tops of your legs, his thumbs rubbing slow circles over the denim. "Can I touch you?" he asked quietly, voice almost shy despite everything. "Please?"
Your heart stuttered at the way he asked earnest and almost pleading. "Yeah," you whispered. "Yeah, you can."
His smile was instant. "Thank you, baby." He kissed you one more time grateful, then slid his hands down to the button of your jeans. He popped it open slowly and his fingers hooked into the waistband tugging gently. "Lift up for me?" he murmured.
You braced your hands behind you on the counter and lifted your hips just enough. He peeled the jeans down your thighs carefully so as not to rush, then he dropped to his knees between your legs right there on the kitchen floor and your breath caught hard. He looked up at you with eyes wide and reverent, hands resting on the outside of your thighs. "You’re so beautiful," he said simply. "Look at you. All pretty just for me."
He leaned in and pressed the softest kiss to the inside of your knee, just a brush of lips, and then another a little higher, teasing the sensitive skin with feather light kisses, occasionally letting his tongue flick out just enough to make you shiver. "Jungwon…" Your voice came out small and needy.
"I know baby," he murmured against your thigh. "Just relax for me okay? Let me take care of you." He kissed higher open mouthed now, sucking lightly just below where your thigh met your hip. His hands slid up to hook under your knees spreading your legs wider so he could fit himself closer. You felt exposed and vulnerable, but the way he looked at you made it feel safe instead of scary. He nuzzled the damp cotton of your underwear, nose brushing the most sensitive part of you through the fabric and you gasped. "Already so wet f'me," he said, voice low and awed. "Fuck, that's perfect. You're perfect."
He hooked two fingers into the side of your panties and tugged them down agonizingly slowly until they were off and tossed somewhere behind him. Then he looked up at you again, eyes dark with want but still so gentle. You nodded breathlessly and that seemed to unravel something in him. He leaned in and kissed you there, not diving in, not yet, just a closed mouth press right over your clit. Then another and another tiny reverent kisses. "You taste so good baby," he murmured between kisses. "Just from this. My good girl..." Finally he flattened his tongue and licked one long, slow stripe up your center. You moaned, head falling back, and he groaned in response. "That's it, let me hear you baby."
He did it again slower circling your clit with the softest pressure before pulling back to kiss like it was your mouth, and your hips bucked involuntarily. Jungwon felt the way your hips jerked up and just pressed his palm firmer against your thigh, keeping you right where he wanted you. The sounds were filthy in the quiet kitchen: wet, soft, the occasional quiet suck when he sealed his lips around your clit again. Your fingers tightened in his hair and he let out this low, pleased hum that vibrated straight through you. "Fuck," you breathed, hips twitching.
You were getting louder without meaning to and he didn't shush you or tell you to be quiet. He just groaned against you like the sounds were turning him on more. When your breathing hitched hard and your whole body tensed, he didn't speed up, he just stayed exactly where he was. Your back arched off the counter, a choked "Jungwon—" slipping out as you came, thighs squeezing around his head, fingers yanking his hair hard.
He didn't flinch, he just kept licking you soft and slow through the aftershocks until you were whimpering and pushing weakly at his forehead. "Fuck that was so hot," he murmured, finally pulling back. His lips were shiny and his chin wet, then he stood up slowly leaning over you to kiss you, letting you taste yourself. You were still catching your breath when he broke the kiss. "You good?" he asked.
"Yeah," you managed, voice wrecked. "That was… yeah."
He smirked and kissed the corner of your mouth. "Good." Then he hooked his arms under your thighs and lifted you off the counter and you wrapped your legs around him in reflex and he carried you down the hallway. He kicked his bedroom door shut with his heel and walked over to the bed, set you down in the middle, then he climbed over you shifting his weight, bracing on his forearms and looked down at your face for a second. "What do you want now, mhm?" he asked, then he leaned down and kissed the corner of your mouth. "I'm down for whatever you want, baby. Just tell me."
You reached up, fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him closer to kiss him. He let you, melting into the kiss, and when you broke apart you were both breathing a little harder. "I want you, so much," you said simply.
He exhaled through his nose a relieved sound, and kissed you again before trailing his lips down your jaw then your neck. He found the spot just under your ear and sucked lightly, humming when you shivered. "Me too, love. You're so fucking pretty, I can't get over it." Another kiss, lower, along your collarbone, then down to the center of your chest, right between your breasts, his lips brushing the fabric of your shirt. "This body… fuck, it's all mine tonight, yeah?"
You laughed softly and a little breathless, and he kept going, pushing your shirt up slowly, kissing every inch of skin he uncovered. Stomach, the dip of your waist, the curve under your ribs. "Gosh look at you," he breathed, lips grazing the underside of your breast. He kissed there, then higher, his tongue flicking over your nipple before he took it into his mouth while his hand cupped the other one. You arched a little, fingers tightening in his hair, and he groaned low against you. "Love the way you sound when I touch you," he said, switching sides, giving the same careful attention. "Makes me crazy."
He spent minutes like that and eventually he kissed his way back up, settling between your legs again, hard and obvious against you through his sweats. He rocked once slowly letting you feel him then dropped his forehead to yours. "Baby," he whispered. "I want to be inside you so bad."
You smiled and before he could say anything else you pushed at his shoulders until he rolled onto his back with a surprised little huff. Now you were the one hovering over him, straddling his hips with your hands braced on his chest. His eyes widened for a second, then softened while his lips curved intoa lazy smile. "Oh?" he said, voice teasing. "You taking over now?"
"Yeah," you murmured, leaning down to kiss him slowly and deep, letting your tongue slide against his until he groaned into your mouth. You pulled back just enough to speak against his lips. "My turn to make you feel good."
You kissed down his jaw, then his neck, mirroring what he'd done to you, smiling when his hips jerked up under you. "Fuck," he breathed, hands settling on your waist. "You're gonna kill me love."
You kept going down his chest, lips brushing over the cotton of his shirt first, and you could tell how much he liked it by the way his stomach flexed under every kiss. You slid your hands under the hem pushing the fabric up and exposing the smooth toned plane of his stomach. He had that subtle definition, just lean and strong, a faint happy trail started just below his navel leading down. You followed it with your tongue with a deliberate stripe right up the center of his abs and Jungwon sucked in a sharp breath, his abs jumping under your mouth. "Fuck…" he exhaled, voice wrecked. His hand found your hair again, fingers threading through gently.
You kissed lower, lips tracing the sharp cut of his hipbone then the other side and every time you got close to the waistband of his sweats you'd pull back just enough to kiss the skin right above it. "Baby," he murmured, half laugh and half plea. "You're killing me here."
You looked up at him through your lashes, smirking. "Good." He was breathing harder now, and you palmed him over the fabric with a slow drag of your hand from base to tip, feeling how thick and hard he already was. The outline was obscene and long enough that the head pushed against the waistband, thick enough that your fingers didn't quite meet when you wrapped around him. "So pretty," you said softly with your eyes locked on his.
He let out a shaky laugh that turned into a groan when you squeezed just a little. "You have no fucking idea what you do to me," he rasped biting his bottom lip hard enough to leave a mark.
You tugged the waistband down finally letting the elastic catch on the head for a second before you pulled it past. He sprang free and heavy against his stomach, flushed dark at the tip, already glistening with precum that beaded at the slit and slid down the underside in a thin line. You wrapped your fingers around him then you stroked once, slow from root to tip, thumb swiping over the head to spread the precum. Jungwon's head fell back against the pillow with a thud. "Shit — fuck, baby…"
You did it again slowly and watched every reaction. "Feels good?" you asked teasingly.
"So fucking good," he groaned and his hips lifting into your hand before he caught himself. "Don't — don't tease too much, please. I'm already losing it." But you did tease just a little more. You leaned down and kissed the inside of his thigh then higher, right at the crease where leg met hip, letting your breath ghost over him without touching. He whined low and needy. "Baby, please…" His voice cracked on the word and his fingers in your hair tightened. "Please put your mouth on me. I need it. Need you." You smiled against his skin, then finally gave in and you licked a slow flat stripe from base to tip and his whole body jerked. "Oh god — fuck yes," he gasped and his voice breaking. "Just like that. Fuck, your tongue…"
You swirled around the head with slow circles, then flicked the underside and he cursed under his breath, hips stuttering up. "Baby — shit, you're so good at this, fuck I love your mouth." You took him in properly then, sucking his length while your tongue pressed flat against the slit. He moaned loud and unrestrained. "Yes — yes, fuck, suck it like that," he babbled, voice wrecked and so, so vocal. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
You bobbed down further until he hit the back of your throat and you hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder on the pull up, hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach. His breathing turned ragged, moans spilling out nonstop. "Fuck baby, you're gonna make me come so fast," he groaned, fingers flexing in your hair. You hummed around him and he practically sobbed. "Baby fuck, do that again. Please. I'm —shit, I'm so close already."
You picked up the pace just enough and your hand twisting at the base while your tongue worked the head on every upstroke. His hips were jerking in helpless thrusts and his voice cracking on every word. "Gonna come baby, I'm gonna come," he warned, desperate. "Where — fuck, where do you want it?"
You pulled off just long enough to whisper, "In my mouth." Then you took him deep again sucking hard, and he broke. "Fuck yes— fuck baby—" His whole body locked up and his hips snapped forward once as he came with a loud moan, spilling hot and thick down your throat. You swallowed around him working him through every pulse until he was whimpering from overstimulation, hand gently tugging you off.
He collapsed back and his eyes were glassy as he looked down at you. "Holy shit," he breathed. "Come here." He pulled you up immediately with his strong arms wrapping around you, rolling so you were half on top of him. He kissed you messy and deep, tasting himself on your tongue then softer hands stroking your back like he was grounding himself. "You're insane," he murmured against your lips, still catching his breath. You laughed quietly, pressing your face into his neck. "Still want inside you," he added. "Soon as I can breathe again."
You laughed a breathless giggle and leaned in to kiss his face everywhere. Soft pecks on his forehead and his eyelids then the tip of his nose, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth. He closed his eyes, smiling lazily, letting you do whatever you wanted while his hands rubbed slow circles on your back. "The universe must be confused as hell right now with all the kisses we've been throwing around," he murmured, voice still a little rough, his eyes opening n to meet yours with that playful glint.
You grinned, pressing one more kiss to his jaw. "I have no idea who's got the luck right now."
"Well I don't know," he said, smirking, "but I'm feeling pretty damn lucky."
Before you could respond, he shifted and his arms wrapped around your waist as he rolled you onto your back in one smooth motion, settling over you. He caught your hands and lacing his fingers through yours and pinning them gently above your head. Then he kissed your face just like you'd done to him: forehead, cheeks, nose, eyelids. "I'm so crazy about you," he whispered against your temple. "Like stupid crazy."
He released your hands but kept his fingers tangled with yours on one side, using the free one to slide under your shirt again. He tugged it up slowly and kissing the skin as it appeared until he could pull it over your head and toss it aside. His mouth was everywhere then and he took his time sucking lightly on one nipple while his thumb brushed the other, humming low in his throat when you arched into him. "Fuck you're gorgeous," he murmured between kisses.
He settled between your legs again, hard against you, and rocked slowly with his tip teasing your clit with the blunt pressure then dipping just barely against your entrance. Back and forth, slow drags that made you gasp, hips lifting to chase more. "Feel that? How bad I want you?" But then he paused as a small self deprecating laugh escaping him. "Shit, wait. I don't wanna push my luck here. Need a condom before I... yeah."
You laughed too, nodding. "Yeah, good call."
He kissed you quick then rolled off to grab one from his nightstand drawer. He tore the wrapper with his teeth, rolling it on with quick, his yes flicking back to you the whole time like he couldn't look away. Then he was back over you settling between your thighs, one hand bracing beside your head while the other guided himself. He teased again with just the tip circling your entrance pressing in barely an inch before pulling back, watching your face. "Ready baby?" he asked.
You nodded. "Please, Won."
He pushed in slow stretching you inch by inch, the burn intense as your body adjusted to him. He was thick, filling you up so completely that you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. He groaned low against your neck, "Fuck," he rasped. "You feel... so good. So tight around me. You okay?"
"Yeah," you whispered, rolling your hips experimentally making you both moan. "Move. Please move."
He did, slowly pulled out then deep thrusting back in, building a rhythm that had the bed creaking quietly under you. He kept that slow, deep rhythm at first pulling almost all the way out just to slide back in with a deliberate grind. The stretch was perfect bordering on too much, his thickness filling you so completely that you could feel every ridge. Sweat slicked between your bodies, and you could hear the quiet creak of the bed mixed with the wet obscene sounds of him moving inside you.
"Fuck baby, you feel so good," Jungwon whined, voice high. His forehead pressed to yours, eyes squeezed shut for a second before they fluttered open, locking on you with this desperate look. "So tight... God, I can't— I can't. You're driving me insane."
You whimpered back, hands clawing at his back. "Jungwon — please, harder... need you deeper," you begged, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. It felt so good it almost hurt, that sweet ache building low in your belly, but you wanted more, wanted him to ruin you.
He groaned loud, a shaky, obsessed sound, and picked up the pace with his thrusts turning sharper, hips snapping forward with a wet slap each time. "Like that? Fuck yes — tell me, baby." His mouth crashed against your neck, sucking hard enough to bruise. One hand slid down to grip your thigh, hitching it higher around his waist so he could angle deeper, hitting that spot that made you see white.
"Oh god — right there," you cried out. "You're so big..."
"Fuck I love this pussy..." He was babbling now completely unfiltered, hips stuttering as he chased the feeling, his free hand roaming everywhere, squeezing your breast, thumb flicking your nipple hard. You pulled him down for a messy kiss, both of you whining into each other's mouths. "Want on top, let me ride you — please, Won," you whined.
He let out a broken moan at that. "Yeah? Fuck — yes, baby." He rolled you both over and settled on his back with you straddling his hips, his cock still buried deep inside you and the new angle made you gasp. You braced your hands on his chest and started moving with slow rolls at first, grinding your clit against his pelvis. He looked up at you like you were a goddess, hands gripping your hips hard. "Holy shit — you look so hot like this," he whined with his hips bucking up weakly to meet you. "Bouncing on my cock... fuck, your tits — play with them for me? Please baby, wanna see."
You did, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples, moaning whiny and loud as you picked up speed, lifting and dropping harder now. "Like this?"
He threw his head back, throat exposed and bobbing with a swallow, a needy whine escaping him. "Yes fuck, just like that." You leaned down sinking your teeth into his shoulder enough to make him hiss and buck wildly under you, his hands sliding to your ass to squeeze and guide your movements. "Fuck yes, like that, gonna come if you keep, shit, baby."
You tightened around him on purpose as you rode him. "Oh god baby, fuck, do it again," so you did and he gasped and his voice was cracking, hips jerking up hard enough to make you bounce. His hands flew to your ass, gripping tight and then on instinct, he lifted one palm and brought it down in a sharp smack right across your cheek. You moaned loud and shameless. Jungwon froze for half a second, eyes widening like he'd just discovered something dangerous, then he saw the way your back arched, the way you clenched even tighter around him, and his expression shifted. "You liked that yeah?" he rasped while his palm was rubbing over the warm spot he'd just hit. "Fuck… you really liked that huh?"
You nodded fast, biting your lip. "Yeah, fuck, do it again. Please."
He groaned like the word alone almost finished him off. Another smack harder this time and you cried out, grinding down harder on his cock. "Goddamn, love, such a good girl for me… taking it so well." He squeezed your ass possessively then delivered one more controlled slap. "Turn around," he said suddenly, voice firm. "On your hands and knees. Now."
You scrambled off him and got into position with your ass up and your back arched. You looked back over your shoulder, while Jungwon sat up behind you, hands roaming over your hips, your waist, your back like he couldn't decide where to touch first. "Fuck princess, you're dripping down your thighs. Fuck, I'm obsessed."
He lined himself up again with his tip nudging your entrance, teasing for just a second then he pushed in slowly at first, and you both moaned at the same time, filthy. "So deep," you whined, pushing back against him. "Jungwon — please… fuck me hard."
His grip tightened on your hips and he started thrusting fast, really fast, slapping against your ass with every stroke, the bedframe rattled against the wall. "Fuck fuck, baby, listen to that," he panted. "You love it rough, don't you? Love when I fuck you like this?"
"Yes yes, oh gosh yes," you cried, pushing back to meet every thrust, hands fisting the sheets. "Harder please, Jungwon, don't stop—"
He leaned over you with his chest pressing to your back, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place while the other slid between your legs. His fingers found your clit rubbing fast circles that matched the brutal rhythm of his hips. "Come for me again," he begged, voice whiny and commanding at the same time. "Please, baby milk me, I need it around my cock."
You were already close, the angle hitting that spot over and over and his fingers relentless while your moans turned into broken sobs. "Jungwon, I'm — fuck, I'm gonna—"
"Do it," he growled against your ear. "Be a good girl and come for me, yeah?" You shattered with your back arching hard, walls clamping down around him in fluttering pulses as you came with a wrecked cry of his name. Your whole body shook, vision blurring. He fucked you through it fast and sloppy now, chasing his own high. "Fuck baby, that's it, milk me, shit, I'm so close — gonna come —"
"Come for me, Won, please —" you whined, pushing back weakly.
That sent him over. He slammed in one last time deeply, his hips flush against your ass and came with a long, broken moan that sounded almost pained, his cock pulsing hard inside you as he spilled into the condom. His whole body shuddered, arms wrapping tight around you from behind, holding you close while he rode out the aftershocks.
He stayed buried inside you for a good minute after he came, bath of you breathing hard while his chest was plastered to you back and his arms locked around your middle. His face was tucked into the side of your neck and every few seconds he would press a lazy kiss there. Eventually he pulled out slowly and carefully, hissing a little through his teeth when the cool air hit him. "Fuck that was intense," he muttered as he rolled the condom off and tied it quick, chucking it toward the trash can by the desk.
You laughed, still face down on the mattress. "Yeah, it really was…"
He flopped down beside you, one arm slinging over your waist pulling you sideways so you were kind of snooping, as his fingers started tracing lazy patterns on your hip. "You okay my love? I kinda went feral at the end there."
You turned your head enough to look at him. His hair was a disaster, sticking up everywhere and his cheeks were super flushed, but he was smiling and it was disarming. "More than okay. My legs are jelly, though. And my ass is gonna remind me of you tomorrow."
He grinned with that boyish grin. "That's good, a souvenir." Then he leaned in and kissed your shoulder right over one of the little red marks he'd left earlier. "Sorry if I got too carried away. You just… you really make me lose my mind, you know?"
"Same here," you admitted, reaching back to thread your fingers through his hair.
He hummed pleased and pulled you closer. "So," he said, as his thumb was circling sweet circles on your ribs. "Do you think we switched again?"
You laughed. "Honestly I have no idea. I wasn't exactly keeping track."
"Yeah, me neither." He nuzzled into your neck. "I was a little distracted."
"Just a little?"
"Okay, extremely. You're very distracting, baby."
You smiled, turning in his arms so you were facing him properly. His eyes were half closed and there was this softness to his expression that made your chest feel tight in the best way. "I don't think I care," you said quietly.
"About the luck?"
"Yeah, I mean I thought I did. I thought it was this whole big thing we had to figure out, but now I'm just like..." You trailed off not sure how to explain it.
"You're like what?" He was really looking at you now and his hand came down to reach yours and give a light hearted kiss on your palm.
"I don't know. I think maybe I had it backwards. I thought losing my luck was the worst thing that could happen to me, but then I met you and —" You stopped feeling your face heat up. "That sounds so cheesy."
"No, keep going. I wanna hear this." He was grinning now, that charming asshole grin.
"I'm not gonna keep going if you're gonna be smug about it."
"Smug? I'm not being smug," he smirked, teasing you.
"You're absolutely being smug."
"Okay, maybe a little." He kissed the tip of your nose. "But seriously. Keep going."
You sighed but you were smiling too. "I just mean... meeting you was lucky. Even if everything else fell apart. Meeting you made all of it worth it."
His expression did something vulnerable and a little overwhelmed like he wasn't expecting you to say that. His hand was on your face and his thumb was brushing over your cheek. "Yeah?" he said quietly.
"Yeah."
"You mean that?"
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."
He was quiet for a second, just looking at you, and then he pulled you closer and kissed you. It was different from before, just sweet and slow. "I'm in love with you," he said when he pulled back. "Just so you know."
Your breath caught. "What?"
"I'm in love with you." He said it again. "I think I have been for a while. Since before the showcase, probably. Maybe since you showed up soaking wet with that broken umbrella and got in my car without even thinking about it. Hell I fell in love with you at that ball even though you were wearing a mask and I didn't know your name."
"Jungwon—"
"I know everything is messy," he continued talking faster now like he was worried you'd interrupt. "And I know everything's been kinda insane with the luck thing and you leaving and me being a mess about it, but I don't care. I'm in love with you. And I just, I wanted you to know that." You stared at him. Your heart was doing something cartwheels and your eyes were getting hot, and you didn't know what to say. "You don't have to say it back by the way," he added quickly. "I'm not — this isn't me trying to pressure you or anything. I just wanted to tell you because it's true."
"You're an idiot," you said and your voice was shaking.
He blinked. "That's not usually the response —"
"I'm in love with you too, you idiot."
His face broke into the biggest smile you'd ever seen. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Obviously. Why do you think I came back?"
"I don't know, I thought maybe you just really liked my pancakes." You laughed, and it came out wet because apparently you were crying now, and he kissed you again, still grinning against your mouth. "God, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he mumbled between kisses. "Luck or no luck, I don't care. You're it for me, you know that?"
"Stop, don't say that..."
"I'm serious, baby. You're it."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay, you're it for me too." He made this sound like a laugh but still a sigh and pulled you on top of him so you were straddling his hips, his hands settling on your waist. You could feel him already starting to get hard again beneath you, which was honestly impressive considering you'd literally just finished. "Again?" you said, raising an eyebrow.
"What? You're naked and sitting on me and you just said you're in love with me. What did you expect?"
"Yeah, okay, fair." You giggled.
"Mhm. So what do you say, my love? Round two?"
"You're insatiable."
"Only for you, baby."
And, well, turns out the universe has a sense of humor after all.
The band blew up, like actually blew up. ENHYPEN's live album hit streaming platforms and within a month they were getting requests for festival appearances and opening slots for bigger acts. Jeonghan called it the fastest trajectory I've ever seen for a new signing which Jungwon pretended to be cool about but you caught him grinning at his phone for like twenty minutes after that call. They did a small tour but sold out every show. Sunghoon broke another drumstick on stage and the fan video went viral. Jake started getting recognized at coffee shops. Heeseung got approached about a solo EP. Jay bought a car, which he immediately regretted because parking in the city is a nightmare but he was too proud to admit it.
And Jungwon? Jungwon was in his element. Managing them and keeping them on schedule, negotiating with venues and doing all the behind the scenes stuff that nobody sees but makes everything actually work. He was really good at it and watching him do his thing, watching him be confident and competent and completely in control, was honestly kind of hot. As for you, Jeonghan kept his word. He got you an interview with HYBE's events division and you walked in with a portfolio of every event you'd ever planned, including the disastrous masquerade ball, because fuck it, you organized that thing and it looked incredible even if it ended badly. They hired you on the spot with a decent salary and actual benefits. You were so back.
The apartment became both of yours pretty quickly. You'd officially moved in as a girlfriend about a month after and it was kind of seamless in a way that would've freaked you out before but now just felt right. Your plant claimed the windowsill in the living room and your books took over half the shelf. Your toothbrush lived next to his in the bathroom. He cleared out two drawers for you without asking and you bought matching Pokémon mugs as a joke except now you both used them every morning.
Sunoo came over at least twice a week usually to raid your fridge and complain about his dating life. He and the band got along great, which you should've predicted because Sunoo gets along with everyone. Sometimes you'd come home to find him and Sunghoon arguing about anything on the couch while Jungwon made dinner. It felt like family, the kind of family you choose.
But here's the weird part and you noticed it first, though Jungwon figured it out around the same time — the luck thing evened out completely. You weren't absurdly lucky anymore and he wasn't cosmically cursed. You were both just... average. The kind of normal where sometimes you'd find a twenty in your coat pocket and sometimes your card would decline at the grocery store for no reason. Sometimes Jungwon would hit every green light on the way to the studio and sometimes the subway would break down and make him late. One time you were running to catch the train and you tripped on the platform and Jungwon caught your arm at the exact same second. You both stopped and looked at each other and started laughing because what were the odds? Bad luck canceled out by good luck, or maybe good luck canceled out by bad luck, or maybe it was just two people in the same place at the same time and that was enough.
You were both at the amusement park on the edge of the city one saturday, those amusement parks with rides that were just rickety enough to be fun and overpriced carnival games that nobody ever wins. Jungwon showed up at noon with tickets already purchased and this grin on his face like he was about to surprise you with something amazing. And, well, it was a good day. You went on the ferris wheel first because he insisted, and at the top he kissed you with the whole city spread out below and it was corny as hell but you didn't care. You played one of those rigged basketball games and he missed every single shot and the guy running the booth felt so bad he gave you a stuffed bear anyway. You got soft pretzels that were too salty and lemonade that was too sweet and wandered around just talking about nothing, his hand in yours the whole time.
Later, when the sun was starting to set and the park lights were coming on, you were walking past the games and food stalls when you saw Madame Clarisse. She was set up at a small table near the back of the park with the same jeweled mask, same rings on every finger, same sign that said Palm Reading - $10. There was no line, though. She was just sitting there shuffling a deck of tarot cards and when you walked past she looked up and your eyes met. She smiled like she'd known all along how this would turn out.
You stopped walking and Jungwon noticed after a second and turned back. "You okay?"
"Yeah," you said, still looking at her. "I just — do you remember the fortune teller? From the ball?"
"The one who said your luck was running out?"
"Yeah. That's her."
He followed your gaze and when he saw her his eyebrows went up. "Seriously?"
"Seriously."
Madame Clarisse gave a little wave. You couldn't help it so you waved back. "Should we—" Jungwon started.
"No," you said already pulling him away. "I think we're good."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I don't need her to tell me anything. I already know."
"Know what?"
You looked at him, at his ridiculous windswept hair and his easy smile and the way he was looking at you like you were the best part of his entire day. "That I got lucky," you said.
He laughed. "That's terrible."
"I know."
"I love you, you know?"
"Yeah, I know that too."
He kissed you then, right there in the middle of the amusement park. "Come on," he said. "I want to win you something at one of these rigged games."
"You're going to lose all your money."
"Not if I get lucky."
You walked away hand in hand, and behind you Madame Clarisse went back to her cards still smiling. You thought about all of it: the ball, that first kiss, the broken umbrella, the month you spent convinced the universe hated you, the moment you almost got on a train and left everything behind. You thought about luck and cosmic balance and fortune tellers who saw things coming before you did. But mostly you just thought about the way Jungwon's hand felt in yours, the way he looked at you like you were the best thing that ever happened to him. The way you'd kissed a stranger in a mask and somehow ended up here, with him, exactly where you were supposed to be.
Maybe the universe had a sense of humor after all. Or maybe some things were always meant to happen, luck or no luck. Either way, you weren't complaining. Just my luck, you thought. Just my luck.
TO TRUST A MAN ONCE, OR NOT, THAT IS THE QUESTION | Byun Euijoo
pairing — &team’s EJ x reader
genre — fluff, romance (wc. 650)
warnings — none!
note — this one’s from this anon! hope you like it!! Also happy new year’s eveeee <333 here’s to my last post of 2025 🤍
MORE WORKS: navigation | &team!masterlist
YOU’VE NEVER BEEN IN LOVE.
Not really. Not the way people talk about it with bright eyes and reckless smiles. Love, to you, has always sounded like something sharp—something that asks too much, takes too much, leaves you smaller than before.
So when Euijoo starts liking you, you don’t fall.
You retreat.
It begins quietly. He sits beside you in class even when other seats are empty. Walks a little slower so you don’t fall behind. Offers you snacks without making a big deal out of it, like he’s just thinking of you instead of trying.
And you notice. Of course you do.
Euijoo has a softness to him that feels dangerous—not because it’s fake, but because it’s real. His smiles are warm and a little shy. His laughter is easy. He listens when you talk, really listens, like your words matter enough to hold carefully.
That scares you more than indifference ever could.
The first time he asks you out, it’s awkward in the sweetest way.
“Um,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes flicking anywhere but your face. “I was wondering if you’d maybe want to get coffee with me? Just us.”
Your heart jumps—hard, painful.
You shake your head immediately. “I don’t… date.”
He blinks. “Oh. Okay. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s not you,” you say quickly. “I just—can’t.”
He nods, too fast, like he’s trying not to show disappointment. “That’s okay,” he says, voice gentle. “Really.”
He doesn’t ask why. He doesn’t push. And somehow, that makes it harder.
After that, you expect him to pull away.
He doesn’t.
Euijoo still saves you a seat. Still walks you home when it’s late. Still smiles at you like you’re something precious. The only thing that changes is that he never crosses the line again.
Until one evening, months later, when you’re sitting together on a campus bench, autumn leaves scattered at your feet.
“You don’t trust love,” he says softly.
You stiffen. “What?”
He looks at you then—really looks—and there’s no accusation in his eyes. Only understanding.
“You flinch when people talk about relationships,” he continues. “And when I get too close, you tense up. I think… you’re scared.”
You swallow. “You don’t know that.”
“I don’t,” he agrees. “But if it’s true, that’s okay.”
You let out a shaky breath. “What if I don’t know how to be someone’s girlfriend?”
Euijoo’s answer is immediate. “Then I’d learn with you.”
Your chest aches. “What if I get it wrong?”
“Then I’ll be patient.”
“What if I don’t trust you?”
He reaches out—slowly, giving you time to pull away—and places his hand palm-up between you.
“Then I’ll give you reasons to,” he says. “Not words. Time.”
You stare at his hand for a long moment before placing yours in it.
Just for a second.
That’s when you decide to try.
Dating Euijoo is nothing like you feared.
He doesn’t rush you. He doesn’t demand things you’re not ready for. On your first date, he keeps a careful distance, hands tucked into his coat pockets like he’s afraid of startling you. When you get quiet, he doesn’t panic—just waits, presence steady.
The first time he holds your hand, he asks.
The first time he kisses you, it’s slow and soft and unsure, like he’s checking if you’re still there. Like your comfort matters more than his desire.
And you realize something terrifying and beautiful:
Euijoo is gentle because he wants to be.
He remembers little things—how you like your tea, the songs that calm you down, the way you hate sudden loud noises. When you flinch, he stops. When you hesitate, he reassures.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he tells you one night, forehead pressed to yours. “You don’t have to be brave with me.”
That’s when it clicks.
Love doesn’t feel sharp with him.
It feels warm.
Safe.
Like being wrapped in a sweater that smells like home.
You’ve never had a boyfriend before.
But with Euijoo, you learn that love doesn’t have to hurt to be real.
Sometimes, it’s just a gentle boy holding your hand—promising, without saying it out loud, that he’ll never let it hurt you.
♡ when heeseung agrees to test jungwon’s new dating sim game, girlfriend simulator, he expects a dumb, half finished game, until he boots it up on his switch, the screen glitches, and he’s dragged straight into the world he just created. the “girlfriend” character, you, isn’t scripted at all; and heeseung has to figure out how to get out while accidentally developing feelings for a girl who inconveniently does not exist in real life.
♡ pairing: heeseung × fem!reader | ♡ genre: fantasy; romcom; fluff; comedy; light sci fi; college au; game simulator; slow burn; smut (mdni) | ♡ playlist: gameboy - katseye | jellyous - illit | super shy - new jeans | i am shampoo - bibi | turn it up - pinkpantheress | sun and moon - aespa | ♡ wc: 37k
♡ ronnie notes: hi guyssss!! hope you enjoy this fic 🫶 i wanted to make this as a little celebration for hitting 4k followers here hehe i’ve been writing this for a while and i lowkey think it’s about to become my little favorite / comfort fic around here!! i’ve always wanted to write something with a gaming theme because i am a gamer (derogatory) so huge thank you to my sister @iyoonjh and @hoonieyun and @jayflrt for helping me with everything league of legends related because yeah i was dumb enough to write league scenes without ever having played that shit myself lmaoo anyway i really hope you guys like girlfriend simulator
HEESEUNG'S FAVORITE PART OF ANY GAME WAS THE DIALOGUE OPTIONS. Little boxes that told you exactly what to say and exactly what would happen after. Real life should've come with that feature. would've saved him a lot of trouble. He wasn't completely hopeless, though. He had friends, he could hold a conversation if he had to. But there was always this gap between what he meant and what came out, or worse, between what he said and how people reacted to it. Like everyone else had gotten a patch update on social interaction and he was still running on the default version.
Maybe that's why dating never quite worked for him. Every time he tried, he felt like he’d missed a tutorial somewhere. He could talk, sure, and he could be funny when he wanted, but halfway through a conversation he always drifted, like thinking about assignments or projects or that interesting research thread he'd meant to look into. People would smile at him politely, the kind of smile that told him they’d already made up their mind: sweet guy, but not for me.
The last time he'd tried going on a date, he’d barely made it through an hour. He’d checked the timestamp afterwards and realized he’d spent exactly forty eight minutes pretending he wasn't thinking about a bug he’d found in his graphics project. He’d texted Jungwon: "bro i think i fumbled bad." Jungwon had sent back a voice note where he laughed so hard he hiccuped. Comforting, in its own way.
Jungwon was one of like three people Heeseung could be around without keeping a mental checklist of normal things to say. They’d been friends since first year when they got paired on a project and realized they both worked better at two in the morning with no one else around. Jungwon was quiet in the same way Heeseung was, but also completely unhinged when it came to code. He’d get an idea and just lock in for days. So one afternoon, while Heeseung was in the lab pretending to fix code he’d actually broken on purpose because he didn’t want to admit he didn’t understand it, Jungwon walked in with that mischief look. He sat down next to him, opened his laptop, and said, "ok, don’t make fun of me, but I made something."
Heeseung didn’t look up. "Is it stable this time?" which was generous, because Jungwon’s projects were never stable.
"Define stable," Jungwon said, clicking through a folder that had way too many warning icons. "Anyway, it’s a dating sim."
That finally made Heeseung look. "A dating sim? Why?"
"Research." Jungwon always said that when he’d clearly done something for fun and wanted it to sound academic. "It’s called Girlfriend Simulator."
Heeseung stared at him. "That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard."
Jungwon didn’t even blink. "Yeah, I know. But I need someone to test it, and you're the only person who’ll actually give me notes instead of lying to make me feel better."
Heeseung wanted to argue, but he was tired and they had a midterm coming up and honestly he didn't care enough to fight. So he sighed and pushed his chair closer. "Fine. Show me." Jungwon grinned like that was all he’d wanted since morning. He opened the build file, and the screen filled with placeholder art, branching choices, and a character slot labeled "y/n_default." And Heeseung, who was too distracted to think twice, just shrugged.
He had no idea that saying yes to that stupid looking game would end up being the most disastrous decision of his entire academic life.
He only agreed because Jungwon wouldn't shut up about it, and because even with all his complaints, he had this soft spot for him that made it hard to say no. Also, he didn’t have anything better to do on a friday night; the rest of their friends were out, and he wasn't in the mood to socialize. And, honestly, he liked games where he could pretend to be slightly less single than he actually was. It was pathetic, sure, but it wasn't like anyone needed to know.
So later that night, Heeseung sat on his bed with the lights off and his switch on max brightness, which was probably not great for his already questionable sleep schedule but whatever. Jungwon had sent him the build file with a message that just said "lmk if it crashes :)" which was not exactly confidence inspiring, but Heeseung had agreed to this so he couldn't really back out now.
The game booted with this weirdly soft 8 bit lullaby that sounded like it was trying to hypnotize him. The title screen was clean, minimalist, just the words "Girlfriend Simulator" in a font that looked expensive. Heeseung snorted. Jungwon had definitely spent more time on the typography than the actual game mechanics, which tracked. Character customization loaded next, and Heeseung had to admit it was smoother than he expected. The interface was intuitive, the options were detailed, and the hairstyle physics were suspiciously good for something Jungwon had supposedly coded in his free time between problem sets.
He made his character half heartedly. Messy hair because that's what he had in real life and he wasn't creative enough to imagine anything else. A hoodie because hoodies were safe. He picked "student" as his class, and when it came to stats, he maxed out "humor" because he genuinely thought he was funny, even if nobody else seemed to agree. Then he looked at "emotional intelligence" and left it at zero. Honesty was important, right?
The loading screen that followed was surprisingly elegant. Just a slow fade to black with some text that read "Your First Meeting" in delicate script. Heeseung settled back against his pillow, expecting the usual dating sim fare: a classroom, a coffee shop, maybe a cherry blossom tree if Jungwon was feeling cliché.
And then the screen flickered. Just once, quick enough that Heeseung thought maybe it was his eyes. But then it happened again and the lights in his bedroom pulsed in sync, like someone had wired his lamp to the game's framerate. "What the hell," Heeseung said to no one.
The switch started vibrating in his hands. Not the normal rumble feature, but something harder, more insistent, like the controller was trying to shake itself apart. On screen, a figure materialized. The girlfriend character. For a second Heeseung just stared because the sprite work was genuinely impressive. The lighting was too good, the shadows moved wrong. Everything felt almost real in a way that made his skin prickle.
And then the girlfriend, you, turned around. Slowly like you already knew he was watching. Your face came into view and Heeseung's brain did this weird stutter because you didn't look like a game character, you looked like a person, with the kind of detail you didn't get from placeholder art. Heeseung felt this uncomfortable twist in his stomach like he was the one being observed.
Then you spoke. Not with a text box, not with that awkward text to speech voice that indie games always used. Actual audio, clear and warm and way too close for his own good. "You're here!"
Heeseung's hands went cold. The voice didn't sound small or synthetic or compressed. It sounded like someone was standing directly behind him in his dark bedroom, breath on his neck, words in his ear. He whipped around so fast he nearly dropped the switch, but his room was empty. Just his desk and his dying succulent and his pile of laundry that he'd been meaning to deal with for a week. "What the—"
Before he could finish the thought, before he could even process what was happening, the lights in his room popped, like every bulb had blown at once. The screen went pure white, so bright it hurt to look at, and the controller in his hands went from cold to burning hot in the span of a heartbeat. He tried to drop it but his fingers wouldn't move, locked in place like the plastic had fused to his skin. The air pressure in the room shifted. His ears popped like he was in a plane taking off, and he felt this pull, this hook behind his ribs, yanking him forward with a force that didn't make any physical sense. He tried to pull back, tried to let go, tried to do anything, but the world was already dissolving.
The last thing Heeseung managed to think before everything shattered into pixels was that he was going to kill Yang Jungwon.
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that the world was too bright. The grass beneath him looked like high definition fairy dust, each blade catching light in a way that grass absolutely should not. The sky was blue in that aggressive unnatural way that only existed in concept art. Everything was sharp and vivid and wrong. Heeseung sat up slowly, head spinning, and looked down at himself. His clothes had changed. Instead of his worn out hoodie and sweatpants, he was wearing the outfit his avatar had been wearing. The same hoodie he'd picked in character customization but real now, solid and heavy on his shoulders. His hands looked like his hands but also didn't. The proportions were slightly off, the lines a little too clean.
"What the fuck," he said out loud, and his voice sounded normal, which was worse. Everything else was strange but his voice was still his.
"You made it!"
Heeseung's head snapped up. You were someone standing a few feet away, watching him with this expression that was hard to read. Amusement, maybe, or curiosity. Like you'd been waiting for him and was pleased he'd finally shown up. except you weren't a sprite anymore. You were real, or at least as real as anything else in this place. You looked exactly like the character on screen but with dimension now, depth, the subtle movements of someone actually breathing. Your hair moved slightly in a breeze he couldn't feel. You were wearing something casual but put together in that effortless way that Heeseung had never managed to pull off.
You smiled at him, and he felt something weird in his stomach. "Hi," you said, like this was completely normal, like he hadn't just been ripped through a screen into a video game that shouldn't exist. "Nice to meet you!"
Heeseung opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. His brain was doing this thing where it tried to process too many things at once and ended up processing nothing at all. "What," he finally managed, which wasn't even a complete sentence but it was all he had.
"Sorry I'm late," you said, but you didn't sound particularly sorry. "Jungwon said you might be running behind. He's the one who set this up, by the way. Said we'd get along."
Heeseung blinked. "Jungwon... set this up?"
"Yeah, the blind date?" You looked at him like he was being slow on purpose. "He said you needed to get out more. His words, not mine."
And that was such a Jungwon thing to do that Heeseung almost believed it. Almost. Except he was still processing the fact that the world around him looked like someone had turned reality into a video game filter. "This is insane," he muttered under his breath. "This is the most realistic game I've ever—"
"Game?" You interrupted, and your smile faltered just slightly. "I'm not playing games with you."
The way you said it made Heeseung freeze. It wasn't defensive or annoyed, it was sincere like you genuinely meant it, like you had no idea what he was talking about. And that's when it hit him: You could hear him. Not just the dialogue options he was supposed to pick. Everything. his actual thoughts spoken out loud. "Wait," he said slowly, "you heard that?"
"Heard what?"
"Nothing. Never mind." Heeseung cleared his throat and tried to pull himself together. He could freak out later. Right now there was a person in front of him — a very real feeling and cute person — and he was being weird. "So. Blind date. Right. Jungwon's idea."
He really looked at you then. You were pretty, in this approachable, comfortable way that made him think maybe he could actually talk to you without saying something catastrophically stupid. You had this ease about you, like you weren't trying too hard, and your eyes had this spark that suggested you were probably smarter than you let on. Basically, you were everything he'd ever put on one of those hypothetical "ideal type" list.
"So," you said, cutting through his thoughts. "Jungwon mentioned you're into games?"
Heeseung tried not to laugh at the irony. "Uh, yeah. You could say that."
"Me too." You brightened, and it was genuine, not that polite interest people usually faked. "I've been replaying persona 5 royal for like the third time. I know, I know, it's excessive."
"No, that's— that's actually really cool," Heeseung said, and he meant it. "Most people don't get the appeal of replaying stuff."
"Right?" You gestured as you talked, animated in a way that made him want to keep listening. "Everyone's like 'you already know the story' but that's not the point. It's about the experience, the details you missed, trying different builds—"
A notification sound chimed softly in the air between you. Heeseung jumped. You didn't react. In the corner of his vision, barely perceptible, text appeared: romantic interest +5. common interests discovered.
Oh. Oh no. This was a dating sim. An actual, literal dating sim. And he was living it.
"You okay?" You asked, tilting your head slightly.
"Yeah, totally fine," Heeseung lied. "Just thought I heard something."
You nodded, accepting this easily, and then said, "Do you want to walk? There's this spot by the lake that's really nice."
"Sure," Heeseung said, because what else was he going to say?
You started down a path that looked hand painted, every stone deliberately placed, every flower color coordinated. You reached the lake, which was absurdly picturesque, and sat down on a bench that looked like it had been placed there specifically for this moment. Probably because it had. Heeseung sat next to you, not too close but not weirdly far either, and tried to act like this was normal. "Oh," you said suddenly, looking up. "Look at that." Heeseung followed your gaze. There was a flower growing on a low hanging branch, except it wasn't growing so much as hovering there, pulsing slightly with a soft golden glow. It bobbed up and down in a loop, the universal sign of an interactive object. You didn't seem to notice anything weird about it. "That's pretty," you said. "I've never seen a flower like that before."
Heeseung stared at it. The glow intensified slightly, like it was trying to get his attention, like it was waiting for him to do something. Oh god. This is a prompt. He was supposed to pick the flower and give it to you, that's how this worked. That's how you earned affection points or route progression or whateverJungwon had programmed into this thing. So he stood up. "I'll get it for you."
"You don't have to—"
"No, I want to," Heeseung said, and he meant it, which was somehow worse. He reached up and plucked the flower from the branch. It came away easily, and the moment his fingers closed around the stem, the glow faded into something softer, more natural. It looked real now. I mean, it felt real. He turned back to you and held it out, suddenly aware of how much this looked like a scene from every romance movie he'd ever suffered through, not that he suffered through many. "Here," he said.
You took it, and your fingers brushed his for just a second. You looked down at the flower, then back up at him, and your smile was so genuinely happy that Heeseung forgot for a moment that this was supposed to be a game. "Thank you," you said. "That's really sweet."
The notifications stacked in his peripheral vision, and Heeseung felt something between triumph and existential dread. "It's just a flower," he said.
"Maybe," you said, twirling it between your fingers. "But it's the thought that counts, right?" And the worst part was that you seemed to actually believe that. You weren't reading from a script or following programmed responses. You felt real, real enough that Heeseung was starting to forget why that should scare him.
You tucked the flower behind your ear, adjusting it carefully, and Heeseung had to physically stop himself from saying something embarrassing about how that was probably the prettiest thing he'd seen all week. He sat back down on the bench, leaving what he hoped was an appropriate amount of space between you. "So," you said, tilting your head. "What do you do for fun? Besides picking flowers for girls in parks."
Heeseung felt his face get warm. "I don't— that's not a thing I do regularly."
"Shame. You're good at it." You were grinning now, clearly enjoying his embarrassment. "Come on, tell me. What's your thing?"
"Uh. Games, mostly. I play a lot of games, like Jungwon said."
Your eyes lit up immediately. "Oh yeah! What kind?"
"Mostly League. Some RPGs. Anything competitive, I guess." He expected the usual response, the polite nod and change of subject that he got whenever he mentioned gaming to people.
Instead, you leaned forward, genuinely interested. "Wait, you play League? What's your main?"
Heeseung blinked. "You play League?"
"Obviously. Answer the question."
"I mean, I play mid usually. Zed, Leblanc, that kind of thing." He was still processing the fact that you not only knew what League was but apparently played it. "What about you?"
"Support. I'm a Janna main and i'm not ashamed of it." You said it with this defiant pride that made Heeseung want to laugh. "I know, I know, support is boring or whatever, but someone has to keep the ADC alive and it might as well be me."
romantic interest +10. shared interests discovered: league of legends.
Heeseung felt something shift in his chest. He'd never met someone who got it like this. Who understood that games weren't just mindless button mashing but actual strategy and skill. "What rank are you?" He asked.
"Plat 2. I was almost diamond last season but then I had finals and kind of gave up on the grind." You made a face. "What about you?"
"Diamond 3." Heeseung said, oddly proud of himself but pretending he wasn't.
"Oh, so you're actually good." You looked impressed, which made Heeseung feel ridiculously more pleased with himself. "We should play together sometime."
"Yeah, definitely," Heeseung said, and then remembered that this was a game and there probably wasn't a 'sometime' outside of this moment. The thought made something in his stomach twist uncomfortably. You shifted on the bench, getting more comfortable, and somehow ended up closer to him. And just like that, you were off. Heeseung found himself talking more than he had in weeks, and you had opinions, strong ones, and you weren't afraid to argue with him when you disagreed. But it wasn't hostile or competitive, it was fun. At some point, you started talking about other games too. You mentioned playing Stardew Valley when you wanted something relaxing, getting unreasonably invested in Hollow Knight, rage quitting dark souls three times before finally beating it. "I'm not good at souls games," you admitted. "I panic dodge. I know you're supposed to learn the patterns but my brain just goes 'roll roll roll' and then I die."
Heeseung laughed. "That's valid. I did the same thing my first playthrough."
"Really? You seem like you'd be one of those people who does no hit runs for fun."
"Absolutely not. I died to the tutorial boss in Elden Ring."
You gasped, mockingly scandalized. "No you didn't."
"I really did. it Took me like fifteen tries." You were laughing now, the kind of laugh that made your whole face light up, and Heeseung felt ridiculously proud that he'd caused it. There was something about making you laugh that felt like winning.
romantic interest +8. humor appreciated.
You kept talking, jumping from topic to topic with the kind of ease that Heeseung had only ever experienced with Jungwon or Jake at best. Except this was different because you were looking at him like everything he said was interesting, like you actually wanted to hear his thoughts on whether the Death Note ending was satisfying or if Eren from Attack on Titan was justified. The sun was properly setting now, painting everything in warm colors. there were fireflies starting to appear, floating lazily through the air in a way that was definitely too perfect to be natural. Heeseung watched one drift past your face, and you reached out to let it land on your finger. "Pretty," you said softly, watching it glow.
Heeseung was looking at you, at the flower still tucked behind your ear and the way the sunset caught in your hair and the small smile on your face as you watched the firefly. "Yeah," he said. "Really pretty." You glanced at him and caught him staring. For a second, Heeseung thought he'd made it weird, but then you smiled, almost shy, and looked back at the firefly.
romantic interest +15. moment shared.
The firefly flew off, and you watched it go before turning back to him. "Hey, can I tell you something?" He nodded so you kept going. "I wasn't really sure about coming today. I almost canceled, actually." You pulled at a thread on your sleeve, not quite meeting his eyes. "I'm not great at the whole meeting new people thing. I always feel like I'm going to say something weird and scare them off."
"You're not weird," Heeseung said automatically.
"You literally just met me. I could be extremely weird."
"Okay, but like, good weird. The kind of weird that's actually interesting." Heeseung ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to explain it. "Most people just want to talk about surface level stuff, you know? But you actually have things you care about."
You looked at him for a long moment, and Heeseung couldn't read your expression. Then you smiled, soft and genuine. "You're really nice, you know that?"
"I'm really not," Heeseung said, but he was smiling too.
"Yes you are. You're nice and you're a good listener and you have good taste in games." You counted off on your fingers. "That's like, three whole good qualities. Most people don't even have one."
There was a moment of comfortable silence where you just sat there, watching the fireflies multiply in the growing dusk. Heeseung thought about how easy this felt, how he wasn't checking the time or looking for excuses to leave. How he kind of never wanted this to end.
You turned your head to look at him. "So do you want to do this again? Like, another time?"
Heeseung's heart did a weird jump in his chest. "Like another date?"
"Yeah. If you want. No pressure or anything." You said it casually, but Heeseung could see the hint of nervousness in the way you weren't quite meeting his eyes. "I just think it'd be fun to hang out more. Maybe we could actually play League together or something."
Every logical part of Heeseung's brain was screaming that this was a bad idea. That he should figure out how to exit this game and go back to real life and deal with the fact that he'd just spent hours in a virtual reality dating sim. But the less logical part, the part that was currently winning, wanted to see you again. Wanted to hear you laugh more. Wanted to keep talking about stupid stuff that mattered to him and apparently mattered to you too. "Yeah," he heard himself say. "Definitely, yeah, I'd really like that."
Your smile was so bright it could've competed with the fireflies. "Okay. It's a date then."
romantic interest +20. second date confirmed. route progression: 15% complete.
And then, without any warning at all, the world started to blur at the edges. The colors bled together, the sounds got muffled and distant, and Heeseung felt that same pulling sensation from before. Like someone had hooked a line to his chest and was reeling him back. "Wait— " he started to say, reaching out instinctively. You were looking at him with concern, mouth moving, but he couldn't hear what you were saying anymore. Everything was dissolving into static and white light and that horrible feeling of falling. The last thing he saw before everything went black was your face, still worried, still perfect, with that flower tucked behind your ear. Then he was gasping awake in his dark bedroom, switch controller still hot in his hands, his heart racing. The screen showed a save menu: progress saved. continue tomorrow?
His hands were shaking. "What the hell," Heeseung said to his empty room.
And he barely slept that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the park, the fireflies, your smile. he kept reaching for memories that felt too solid to be from a game. By the time his alarm went off, he'd already been awake for an hour, staring at his ceiling and trying to convince himself that he hadn't just experienced the most elaborate hallucination of his life.
He found Jungwon in their usual spot in the computer lab, hunched over his laptop with his headphones on, nodding along to whatever he was listening to. There were three empty energy drink cans next to him, which meant he'd probably been there since before sunrise. Heeseung dropped his bag on the desk with more force than necessary. Jungwon jumped, pulling his headphones down. "Jesus, dude. Learn to announce yourself like a normal person."
"We need to talk about your game," Heeseung said.
Jungwon's face lit up. "Oh my god, you played it! what'd you think? Was she cute? Did you get to the part with the—"
"Jungwon." Heeseung sat down, leaning forward. "What the hell did you put in that thing?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean it was way too real." Heeseung ran his hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to explain something that sounded insane even in his own head. "It felt like I was actually inside the game."
Jungwon frowned. "Wait, you used a VR headset or something?"
"No, I just played it normally! On my switch, in my room." Heeseung could hear how crazy he sounded but he kept going anyway. "But it wasn't like regular gameplay. It was like the game pulled me in. I could smell things, Jungwon."
Jungwon stared at him for a long moment, then slowly took a sip of his energy drink. "Bro. You got that invested in it?"
"I'm not— that's not what I'm saying."
"You literally just described sensory immersion that doesn't exist yet." Jungwon was grinning now. "Holy shit, you're actually down bad. You played a dating sim for like two hours and now you're having full vivid memories about it."
"It wasn't like that," Heeseung insisted, but even he could hear how weak it sounded.
"Dude, you need to get an actual girlfriend. Like, a real one. Made of flesh and blood and everything." Jungwon was trying not to laugh and failing. "Look, I'm glad you liked it. Genuinely. But maybe we should set you up with someone real before you completely lose touch with reality." Heeseung slumped back in his chair. Maybe Jungwon was right. Maybe he had just gotten way too into it. Maybe his brain had filled in details that weren't actually there because he was that desperate for connection. "I'm not judging! Okay, maybe I'm judging a little bit, but I'm also proud. My game is so good it's causing psychological breaks from reality." Jungwon looked genuinely pleased with himself. "Okay, but if you're playing tonight, there's something you should know."
"What?"
"The second date has a mini game. Like, a fight sequence."
Heeseung blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
"A fighting mini game."
"Why the fuck does a dating simulator have a fighting mini game?"
Jungwon shrugged. "I thought it'd be fun. Adds variety and keeps things interesting."
"That makes absolutely no sense. What am I supposed to be fighting?"
"You'll see," Jungwon said, and his smile was deeply suspicious.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer you're getting. I'm not spoiling my own game." Jungwon turned back to his laptop. "Just make sure you've been keeping up with your stats. You're gonna need decent strength and agility."
"I maxed out humor and left emotional intelligence at zero."
Jungwon turned around slowly. "You what."
"What! I was being honest about my abilities!"
"Heeseung. My guy. My dude." Jungwon looked pained. "You're supposed to actually try to build a good character."
"My character is fine."
"Your character is going to get his ass kicked." Jungwon pulled up something on his laptop, clicked around for a second, then shook his head. "Okay, you know what? It's fine. You'll figure it out. The game has adaptive difficulty anyway."
Heeseung really looked at Jungwon. "Adaptive difficulty in a dating sim."
"In the fighting portion, yeah. The dating part is all you, buddy. That's pure skill based."
Heeseung wanted to argue that there was something deeply wrong with Jungwon's game design philosophy, but he also kind of wanted to know what the hell happened on the second date that required combat stats. "Is she going to be there?" He asked. "During the fight thing?"
"Obviously. It's her date." Jungwon was smirking now. "Why, you worried about impressing her?"
"No."
"You're totally worried about impressing her. A girl who doesn't exist."
Heeseung threw a pen at him. Jungwon dodged it without even looking up from his screen. And the rest of the day dragged. Heeseung went to his classes and took notes and nodded at the appropriate times, but his brain was somewhere else entirely. He kept thinking about the park. About the way you'd looked at him when he gave you the flower. About how easy it had been to talk to you. He knew it was just a game. He knew you were just code, just a really well designed character or whatever that Jungwon had somehow made feel real. But knowing that didn't stop him from wanting to see you again.
By the time he got back to his dorm that night, he'd already decided he was playing regardless of how pathetic it made him look. He grabbed his switch, plugged in his headphones even though he hadn't used them last time, and loaded up the save file. The screen flickered once. Twice. Here we go again, Heeseung thought. And then the world tilted, and he was falling forward into light. When the world stopped spinning and Heeseung's vision cleared, he wasn't in a park this time. He was sitting in a desk chair, his own desk chair. In what looked exactly like his dorm room, except cleaner, way cleaner. His laundry wasn't on the floor and his desk wasn't covered in empty energy drink cans. His monitor was on, displaying his league of legends home screen, and his keyboard had that soft RGB glow that looked way more expensive than his actual setup.
"Okay," Heeseung said to the empty room. "This is new." His phone — or the game's version of his phone — buzzed on the desk. He picked it up and saw a discord notification.
you: you're online! finally
you: i've been waiting like ten minutes
you: i was starting to think you ghosted me
Heeseung's heart did that stupid jump thing again. He typed back quickly.
heeseung: sorry, just got on
heeseung: ready when you are
His discord pinged with an incoming call. He stared at it for a second, then clicked accept. "There you are," your voice came through his headphones, clear and warm and doing absolutely nothing good for his heart rate. "I thought you bailed on me."
"I wouldn't do that," Heeseung said, and he meant it, which was concerning considering you were a video game character.
"Good. Because I already said we were playing together and if you didn't show up i would've looked stupid." Heeseung could hear the smile in your voice. on his second monitor — since when did he have a second monitor? — a small window popped up showing your avatar. It was cute, some anime style drawing with the same flower from yesterday tucked behind the character's ear. "Okay, so I set up a custom game. Two versus two," you said.
"Sounds good. Who are we playing against?"
There was a pause. "Okay, so don't freak out, but it's my exes."
Heeseung's hand froze on his mouse. "I'm sorry, what?"
"My ex boyfriends. Both of them. They wanted a rematch from last time." You said it so casually, like this was a completely normal thing. "They're kind of toxic about League. They got really mad when I beat them."
"You want me to play League against your ex boyfriends?"
"Technically we're playing against them together as a team. Bonding activity!" You sounded way too cheerful about this. "Come on, It'll be fun. Plus i really want to beat them again. They've been talking shit in the group chat all week."
quest unlocked: defend your girlfriend's honor (in league of legends) | objective: win the 2v2 match | optional objective: make her exes regret queueing up
The notification appeared in the corner of his vision and Heeseung had to resist the urge to laugh. This was insane. This entire situation was insane. But he went for it anyway. "Okay," he said. "Let's do it." the invite popped up and Heeseung accepted. The lobby loaded and he could see the other two players: "toxicking" and "yourworstnightmare" which were possibly the most obnoxious usernames he'd ever seen. "Those are real people you dated?" Heeseung asked.
"Unfortunately. My taste in men used to be really bad." You paused. "It's gotten better though." Heeseung tried not to smile and failed completely.
The chat lobby loaded and immediately one of them started typing.
toxicking: oh look who showed up
toxicking: brought a new victim i see
yourworstnightmare: this gonna be quick lol
"They're always like this," you said, sounding tired. "Just mute them if they get annoying."
"I'm fine," Heeseung said. "I've dealt with worse in solo queue."
"Ooh, confident. I like it."
romantic interest +5. confidence appreciated.
You locked in Janna, just like you'd said yesterday. Heeseung hovered over Zed for a second, then switched to Leblanc. If this was going to be a two versus two, he wanted mobility and burst damage. The game loaded, Heeseung cracked his knuckles and adjusted his grip on his mouse. "Okay, game plan," you said. "I keep you alive, you delete them. Simple." The match started and immediately the other team was in all chat. Heeseung checked their champions. Yasuo and Yone. Of course they were playing the flashy high skill ceiling champions. He would've bet money they had mastery 7 emotes ready to spam. "They always play like this," you said. "Super aggressive, trying to outplay everything. It's kind of predictable once you get used to it." The minions spawned and both teams moved forward. Heeseung played it safe at first, watching how the exes moved, learning their patterns. And then suddenly, first blood!
"THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT," you shouted, and Heeseung couldn't help but grin.
toxicking: wtf
toxicking: that was lag
yourworstnightmare: ur getting carried
yourworstnightmare: ur duo is doing everything
"He's salty," you said, laughing. "This is great." The match continued and it became increasingly clear that Heeseung and you had better coordination. You'd shield him right before he went in. You moved together like you'd been playing as a duo for months. "Behind you," you called out, and Heeseung instantly dodged. It wasn't even close. By fifteen minutes, the score was 15 to 3, and Heeseung had more kills than both of the exes combined.
toxicking: this is bullshit
toxicking: whoever this guy is he's probably smurfing
yourworstnightmare: yeah no way he's actually this rank
toxicking: fucking carried loser
"They're so mad," you said, and you sounded absolutely delighted. "Oh my god, they're so mad. This is the best day of my life."
Heeseung was grinning so hard his face hurt. "Should we end it?"
"Absolutely, yeah. Let's make it hurt." You pushed mid together. Heeseung went in first, deleting the Yasuo instantly. You polymorphed the Yone, and Heeseung finished him off before the polymorph even ended. The nexus exploded.
victory! +50 romantic interest. victory achieved. quest completed. achievement unlocked: better than her exes (at league of legends)
Heeseung leaned back in his chair, feeling more satisfied than he had any right to feel about a video game within a video game. "That felt good."
"Right? God, I've been wanting to do that for weeks." You sighed happily. "You're really good, by the way. You weren't kidding about being diamond."
"I don't really joke about my rank."
"Noted. Confidence is earned." There was a pause. "Hey, want to play another one? Just us this time?"
Heeseung absolutely should not spend more time in this game. He should log off and go to sleep and maybe talk to a therapist about why he was emotionally investing in a dating simulator. "Yeah," he said instead. "Let's play another."
You made a happy sound that did dangerous things to his chest. "Okay! I'll make the lobby.” Your laugh was bright and genuine and perfect. "I knew you were my type."
You played two more games and won both of them. When you finally left the lobby, Heeseung realized he'd been playing for almost two hours. His hands were sore from gripping the mouse and his face hurt from smiling. "Hey," you said, your voice softer now. "Thanks for playing with me. And for, you know, obliterating my exes. That was really fun."
"Anytime," Heeseung said, and meant it. "This was really fun. I don't usually have this much fun playing league."
"Me neither," you admitted. "Usually it's just people being toxic or trying too hard. But this was nice. You're nice." There was a comfortable silence, just the sound of both of you breathing through the discord call. Heeseung looked at his monitor, at the League client, at the clean version of his room that didn't exist in real life. "So," you said eventually. "Same time next week?"
Heeseung's chest tightened. "Yeah. Definitely."
"Cool. It's a date." You paused. "Well, another date. Our third date. Okay. Well. I should probably get going. Okay. Goodnight, Heeseung."
"Goodnight." The discord call ended and Heeseung sat there in the quiet of his too clean room, staring at his monitor. The screen started to blur at the edges, colors bleeding together again. Here we go again, he thought, again.
progress saved. route progression: 30% complete.
And this whole thing it became a routine faster than Heeseung wanted to admit. He'd go to class, take notes he barely remembered, nod at Jungwon when they crossed paths in the lab, and then he'd go straight back to his dorm. Dinner was whatever he could eat with one hand because he was already booting up the switch with the other. Jake, his roommate, asked him once if he was okay, and Heeseung said he was fine, just really into this new game. Which was technically true, even if it didn't come close to explaining what was actually happening.
The third date was at an arcade. Not a real arcade, obviously, but the game's version of one. You showed up wearing this oversized hoodie and jeans and you looked so genuinely excited to be there that Heeseung forgot for a solid minute that none of this was real. The mission was simple: win you a prize from the claw machine. Except the claw machine was rigged in that way that all claw machines are rigged, and it took Heeseung fifteen tries before he finally got the stuffed cat you'd been eyeing. When he handed it to you, you hugged it to your chest and smiled at him like he'd just won you something actually valuable, and the notification that popped up said his charm stat had increased by ten points. He was starting to understand how the game worked now; every interaction mattered and every choice added up.
On the fourth date, you took him to a bookstore, and the mission was to pick out a book for each other. You spent almost an hour wandering through the aisles, pulling out books and reading the backs and showing him things you thought he'd like. You picked him this SciFi novel about time loops and said it reminded you of him because he seemed like someone who'd want to figure out how to break the system. He didn't know how to tell you that he was currently living in something that felt suspiciously like a time loop, so he just took the book and thanked you. He picked you a fantasy novel with a really detailed magic system. When you read the description your whole face lit up and you immediately added it to your reading list. His intelligence stat increased and so did the romantic interest meter, which was now sitting at somewhere close to seventy percent.
Date five was a cooking challenge in your apartment, which Heeseung didn't even know you had until he loaded into the game and found himself standing in a kitchen that looked like it came out of an interior design magazine. You were already there, tying your hair back, explaining that you'd challenged him to see who could make the better pasta. Heeseung had never cooked pasta in his life that didn't come from a box with instructions, but he wasn't about to admit that. The mission objective said to impress you with his cooking skills, which seemed optimistic given his actual skill level, but he tried anyway. He burned the garlic immediately. You laughed at him but not in a mean way, more like you thought it was endearing that he was trying. You ended up helping him, standing close enough that he could smell your perfume, guiding his hands when he didn't know how much salt to add. Your pasta turned out better than his but you ate his anyway and said it wasn't that bad, and his cooking stat went from zero to fifteen which felt generous but he wasn't complaining.
By date seven Heeseung's character stats had changed completely. His confidence was maxed out now, sitting at ninety five out of a hundred. his charm was at eighty. Even his emotional intelligence had somehow climbed to sixty despite him never actively trying to level it up. The game was keeping track of everything, he realized. Every time he listened to you talk about something you cared about, every time he remembered a small detail you'd mentioned, every time he made you laugh, the numbers went up. He was being rewarded for paying attention, for caring.
Date seven was a hiking trail that wound up a mountain to a viewpoint. The mission was just to reach the top together, which sounded simple except the trail was longer than expected. Heeseung offered to take a break but you said you wanted to keep going, you wanted to see the view. So you kept climbing and Heeseung found himself naturally slowing his pace to match yours, offering his hand on the steeper parts, pointing out interesting rocks or plants just to give you reasons to stop and catch his breath, because the game kept showing pop ups of him showing that his hydration meter was almost on 10%. When you finally reached the top the sun was setting and the view was objectively incredible, the kind of thing that didn't exist in real life because real life didn't have rendering engines that could make every cloud perfect. You sat down on the bench at the summit and Heeseung sat next to you and you leaned your head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"This is nice," you said quietly. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too," Heeseung said, and he meant it so completely it scared him.
"You know, when we first met, I wasn't sure if this would work out. I didn't like the idea of a blind date." You were looking out at the view, not at him. "But I think I was wrong. I think we make sense together."
The romantic interest meter hit ninety percent and a new notification appeared: relationship milestone approaching. prepare for confession sequence. Heeseung's stomach dropped. Confession sequence. That meant the game was building toward something, toward an ending. toward him having to either commit or walk away. He'd known this was coming, obviously, this was a dating sim, the whole point was to get to the confession. But now that it was actually happening he wasn't ready. He didn't want this to end. He wanted to keep going on dates and learning things about you and making you laugh and existing in this space where things made sense.
"Hey," you said, turning to look at him. "You okay? You got quiet."
"Yeah, I'm fine," Heeseung lied. "Just thinking."
"About what?"
About how you're not real, he didn't say. About how I'm going to have to leave eventually and you'll just be code again. About how I'm way too invested in something that was only supposed to be a game. "About how nice this is," he said instead.
You smiled and took his hand, lacing your fingers through his. "Yeah. It really is." You sat there until the sun finished setting and the stars came out, which happened too fast because game time didn't move like real time. When the world started to blur at the edges and Heeseung felt that familiar pulling sensation, you squeezed his hand once before letting go. "See you next time," you said, and your voice was already fading.
Heeseung woke up at his desk again, neck sore, hands cramped around the controller. His phone showed it was three in the morning. He had class in five hours. He should sleep. He should eat something. He should probably shower because he wasn't sure he'd done that today. Instead he looked at the switch screen. progress saved. route progression: 90% complete. next date: confession sequence available.
The next day, Heeseung found Jungwon in the same spot as always, corner desk in the computer lab with three monitors running different programs simultaneously. Heeseung dropped into the chair next to him hard enough that Jungwon jumped. "What happens after the confession?" Heeseung asked without preamble.
Jungwon blinked at him. "What?"
"In your game. What happens after the confession scene. I need to know."
"Oh, you're at that part already?" Jungwon's eyebrows went up. "Uh, I don't know if i should tell you though. Spoilers and all that."
"Jungwon."
"I'm serious! The whole point of a game is discovering it yourself. If I tell you what happens it ruins the experience." Jungwon was grinning now, clearly enjoying this. "You're supposed to go in blind and make your choices based on what feels right in the moment."
Heeseung resisted the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. "I just want to know what to expect. Is there a good ending? A bad ending? Multiple endings?"
"There are multiple endings, yeah. Depends on your choices throughout the game and your final stats." Jungwon tilted his head, studying him. "Why are you so stressed about this? It's just a game. If you get a bad ending you can just reload and try again."
"I don't want to reload," Heeseung said, and he could hear how intense he sounded but couldn't seem to stop. "I want to get it right the first time."
Jungwon stared at him for a long moment, then slowly set down his drink. "Okay, you need to be honest with me right now. How much have you been playing this game?"
"I don't know. A few hours a day."
"Heeseung."
"Okay, maybe more than a few hours."
"How many hours are we talking? Ballpark estimate."
Heeseung did the mental math and immediately regretted it. "I don't think that's relevant."
"Oh my god, you're obsessed." Jungwon leaned back in his chair, looking somewhere between amused and concerned. "Dude, it's a dating sim. A fictional dating sim. With a fictional girl who doesn't exist. You know that, right? You know she's not real?"
"Obviously I know that," Heeseung said defensively, even though there were moments when he forgot, when you felt so real that it didn't matter what you were made of.
"Do you though? Because you look like you haven't slept in three days." Jungwon was trying to be lighthearted about it but there was genuine worry underneath. "I made the game to be immersive but this is kind of next level." Jungwon paused. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask. Do you have the save file on your switch?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Can I see it? I want to check something." Jungwon was already pulling out a cable from his bag. "I've been trying to track some of the game metrics and I want to see how your playthrough data looks. Might help me optimize things for the final build." Heeseung hesitated for a second, then pulled out his switch and handed it over. Jungwon connected it to his laptop and started pulling up files, his eyes scanning lines of code that moved too fast for Heeseung to follow. "Okay so your save file shows you're at ninety percent completion, which tracks," Jungwon muttered, clicking through folders. "Romance points are maxed, most of your stats are really high except wisdom which is still somehow at like twenty, but that's on you for ignoring all the library study sessions —" He stopped mid-sentence. "Wait."
"What?"
"Hang on." Jungwon leaned closer to his screen, scrolling through something. his expression shifted from curious to confused to something that looked almost worried. "This doesn't make sense."
"What doesn't make sense?"
"These files. There are scripts here that I didn't write." Jungwon opened another window, comparing code side by side. "Like, entire dialogue trees that don't exist in my original build. And these asset files, I definitely didn't create these. The arcade date was supposed to be at a generic arcade but your file shows custom assets for specific machines."
Heeseung felt something cold settle in his stomach. "Maybe you forgot you added them?"
"I don't forget code I write, Heeseung. That's not how this works." Jungwon was scrolling faster now, opening more files. "And look at this, the dating locations are generating based on your preferences. I programmed like five set locations but your save file has seven different ones and they're all places that align with interests you've demonstrated in gameplay." He clicked on something else. "Oh this is weird. Really weird."
"What?"
"The dialogue system. I built it to pull from a database of pre written responses with some randomization for variety, but this–-" Jungwon gestured at the screen. "This is learning. It's analyzing your responses and generating new dialogue options that don't exist in my database. It's writing its own conversations."
"Is that bad?"
"It's not bad, it's impossible. I didn't program that. I don't even know how to program that." Jungwon looked up at him, and for the first time since Heeseung had known him, he looked genuinely unsettled. "Your game is developing its own code."
They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the hum of the computer lab's ventilation system and the clicking of someone's mechanical keyboard a few desks over. "Is that dangerous?" Heseung asked.
"I don't know. Probably not? I mean, it's still just a game. It's not like it can affect anything outside of itself." Jungwon didn't sound entirely convinced though. "But it's definitely something I need to look into. This could be a massive bug or it could be the framework doing something really innovative that I didn't anticipate."
"But the game still works, right? Like, I can still finish it?"
Jungwon gave him a look. "You're really determined to finish this thing, aren't you?"
"I'm ninety percent through. I'm not stopping now."
"Even knowing that the game is apparently developing sentience or whatever?"
"It's not sentient, it's just adaptive," Heeseung said, trying to sound convincing.
Jungwon sighed and unplugged the switch, handing it back to him. "Okay, fine. But I'm keeping a copy of your save data so I can analyze this more. And maybe after you're done we can talk about what's actually happening here because this is either a huge breakthrough in game design or a really concerning glitch and I genuinely can't tell which." Heeseung nodded, pocketing the switch. "And Heeseung?" Jungwon's expression was serious now. "Be careful with the confession sequence. I know you want to get it right but just remember that at the end of the day it's still a program. It's responding to inputs and generating outputs. It's not actually feeling anything."
Heeseung nodded, but he was thinking about the way you'd looked at him during the sunset on the hiking date or about how your smile seemed genuinely happy when he won you the stuffed cat. "Right," he said. "Yeah, I know that." Jungwon didn't look convinced, and honestly, Heeseung wasn't either.
By the time he got back to his dorm that evening, he'd made a decision. He was going to finish the game. He was going to do the confession sequence. And he was going to be honest, say what he actually felt, because even if you were just code, the feelings were real, his feelings were real. That had to count for something. So he sat down at his desk, picked up his switch, and loaded the save file. the screen showed the usual menu: Continue, Load, Settings. He selected continue and the familiar loading screen appeared with its soft music and the progress bar that now read ninety percent. The world loaded and Heeseung found himself standing in front of a location marker that hadn't been there before. It was highlighted in gold and pulsing softly, and when he walked up to it, a notification appeared.
final date available: confession sequence. proceed?
Heeseung took a breath, his actual physical breath in his actual room, and then pressed yes. The world reformed around him and he was standing outside an apartment building he recognized as yours. The sun was setting, painting everything in warm golden light. His outfit had changed without him doing anything; he was wearing a button up shirt now, dark jeans, shoes that were nicer than anything he owned in real life. His hair felt different too, like someone had styled it properly instead of his usual routine of running his fingers through it and hoping for the best. And then a notification appeared:
quest: the perfect date. objective: confess your feelings. bonus objective: make it memorable.
current stats — confidence: 95. charm: 80. emotional intelligence: 60. romantic interest: 90%.
Heeseung looked at the apartment door and a dialogue option popped up floating in his vision.
> knock on the door > text her that you're here > wait for her to come down
He selected the first option because knocking felt more personal, more intentional. He walked up to the door and knocked three times, and there was this weird moment where he could feel his heart actually racing even though he was pretty sure his real body was just sitting in a chair holding a controller. The door opened and you were there, and Heeseung forgot how to think for a second. You were wearing a dress, which he'd never seen you in before. It wasn't overly fancy, just simple and nice and it suited you in a way that made his chest tight. Your hair was down and you'd clearly put in effort and you looked nervous in a way that made him want to tell you that you had nothing to be nervous about. "Hi," you said, and you were smiling but there was something uncertain in it.
dialogue options: > you look really pretty > ready to go? > sorry, am i early?
Heeseung picked the first one without hesitating. "You look really pretty," he said, and his voice came out steadier than he expected.
Your smile got more genuine, less nervous. "Yeah? I wasn't sure if this was too much. You didn't tell me where we were going."
"It's perfect," Heeseung said, even though he also didn't know where you were going.
romance +5. successful compliment.
You grabbed your bag and locked the door behind you, and when you turned back to him there was this moment where Heeseung almost offered his hand but wasn't sure if that was too much. The game solved the problem for him by providing another choice.
action options: > offer your arm > walk beside her casually > hold her hand
He selected the first one, old fashioned but confident, and held out his arm. You looked at it for a second and then smiled and took it, linking your arm through his, and suddenly you were walking together down the street like this was something you did all the time. "So where are we going?" You asked, looking up at him.
"This place I found," Heeseung said, even though he hadn't found anything because this was a game and the location was predetermined. "I thought you'd like it."
The restaurant, when you got there, was the kind of place Heeseung had only seen in movies. Small and intimate with soft lighting and candles on every table and windows that looked out over the city. There was a host at the front who smiled at them like he'd been expecting them, and he led them to a table by the window without Heeseung having to say anything. You sat down across from him and looked around, eyes wide. "Heeseung, this place is really nice. You didn't have to do all this."
dialogue options: > i wanted to > you deserve it > it's not that fancy
He picked the second one. "you deserve it," he said, and you looked at him with this expression he couldn't quite read but that made something warm settle in his chest. The waiter came by with menus and Heeseung noticed that all the food options had little stat indicators next to them. Ordering the pasta would give a +5 to sophistication. The steak was +8 to confidence. The wine selection had various charisma bonuses. It was surreal, sitting in what looked like a real restaurant while video game mechanics floated at the edge of his vision. "What are you thinking about?" You asked, and Heeseung realized he'd been quiet for too long.
dialogue options: > just trying to decide what to order > thinking about how nice this is > thinking about you
The third option felt too direct, too soon, so he went with the second. "Just thinking about how nice this is," he said. "Being here with you."
You smiled and looked down at your menu, and Heeseung could see the faint blush on your cheeks. "Yeah. It is nice." You both ordered food and fell into easy conversation. You told him about something funny that happened in your class and he told you about nearly falling asleep during a lecture that morning. The food came and it was actually good, or at least the game's version of good, and Heeseung found himself relaxing into the moment.
Halfway through dinner, you reached across the table and stole a bite of his food without asking. It was casual and comfortable and exactly the kind of thing you'd done on previous dates, but this time when you pulled back, Heeseung caught your hand before you could fully retreat.
action options: > hold her hand > let go after a moment > bring her hand to your lips (high risk)
His confidence stat was at ninety five. He picked the first option and just held your hand there on the table, his fingers laced through yours, and you looked surprised for a second before your expression softened into something that looked almost relieved. "Is this okay?" Heeseung asked quietly.
"Yeah," you said, and your voice was just as quiet. "This is okay."
You finished dinner like that, hands linked across the table, and Heeseung had never felt more present in a moment that he knew wasn't technically real. When the waiter brought the check, Heeseung paid without looking at it, because, well, that wasn't his real money. And you didn't protest, just squeezed his hand once and smiled. Outside the restaurant, the city had transformed into its night version. String lights hung between buildings and the streetlamps cast everything in a warm glow. There was soft music coming from somewhere, ambient and atmospheric. "Do you want to walk for a bit?" You asked. "I'm not really ready to go home yet."
dialogue options: > absolutely > whatever you want > i was hoping you'd say that
Heeseung picked the last one. "I was hoping you'd say that," he said, and you laughed and pulled him down the street, still holding his hand.
You walked through the city without any real destination, just moving together, and Heeseung was hyperaware of every point of contact between you. Your hand in his, the occasional brush of your shoulder against his arm, the way you'd lean into him slightly when you laughed at something he said. Eventually you led him to a park that Heeseung didn't remember seeing before. It was mostly empty at this time of night, just a few NPCs scattered around looking decorative. There was a fountain in the center and benches arranged around it, and you pulled him toward one of the benches and sat down, tugging him down next to you. You didn't let go of his hand. "Can I tell you something?" You asked, looking at the fountain instead of at him.
"Of course," Heeseung said.
You took a breath. "I really like spending time with you. Like, really like it. You make me feel like I can just be myself and that's enough, you know? I don't have to try to be cooler or funnier or different. I can just exist and you seem to like that."
Heeseung's throat felt tight. "I do like that," he managed. "I like you exactly how you are."
critical moment approaching. romance threshold: 95%.
You finally turned to look at him, and your expression was nervous and hopeful and vulnerable in a way that made Heeseung forget that you were supposed to be code. "The thing is," you continued, "I don't usually do this. I don't usually let people get close like this. But with you it felt easy from the start and now I'm just —" you stopped, searching for words. "I'm really happy you're here."
confession sequence initiated. select response: > i'm happy too > i feel the same way > i need to tell you something
Heeseung knew this was it. This was the moment the whole game had been building toward. All those dates, All those conversations, all those stat increases and romance points, everything had led to this choice. He could play it safe with the first two options or he could go all in with the third one. His confidence was maxed out. He'd earned this moment. So he picked the third option.
"I need to tell you something," Heeseung said, and his voice was steadier than he expected. "I didn't really know what to expect when we first met. I thought maybe it'd be awkward or forced or like every other time I've tried to get to know someone. But it wasn't like that at all." You were watching him carefully, not interrupting, and Heeseung kept going. "You're the first person in a really long time who makes me want to actually try, you know? Like, I want to be someone worth your time. I want to hear about your day and your opinions on League of Legends and game mechanics or how you wanted to live on a farm one day. I want to keep doing this, all of it, for as long as you'll let me." Romance stats were at 98% now. "What I'm trying to say is —" Heeseung paused, and the game provided one final choice, the last decision that would determine everything.
final confession: > i really like you > i think i'm falling for you > i'm in love with you
Heeseung looked at you, at the way you were watching him with your full attention, at the hope in your expression, at how real you felt in this moment. He picked the middle option, the one that was honest without being overwhelming. "I think I'm falling for you," he said quietly. "Actually, I don't think. I know. I'm falling for you and I don't really know how to stop and I don't think I want to."
The world seemed to hold its breath. Even the ambient sounds of the park faded into nothing. You were staring at him with wide eyes and Heeseung's heart was racing and for one terrible second he thought he'd picked wrong, said too much, ruined everything.
Then you smiled, the kind of smile that started small and grew until it took over your whole face, and you said, "oh thank god."
"What?"
"I've been trying to figure out how to tell you the same thing for like days now." You were laughing, almost giddy with relief. "I kept overthinking it and planning the perfect moment and the perfect words and then you just — you just said it and it was perfect anyway."
"So," Heeseung said, because he needed to be absolutely sure. "Does that mean —" You didn't let him finish. You just leaned in and kissed him.
For a second, Heeseung's brain completely short circuited. This wasn't supposed to happen yet. He'd expected more dialogue options, maybe a choice prompt, some kind of warning that this moment was coming. But there was nothing, just the sudden warmth of your lips against his and the way his entire nervous system seemed to light up all at once. It wasn't dramatic or earth shattering or any of the things movies made kissing out to be. It was soft and brief and a little tentative, like you weren't entirely sure if you were doing it right. Your lips were warm and you tasted faintly like the wine from dinner and Heeseung could feel your hand trembling slightly where it was still holding his. He barely had time to process any of it, to kiss you back properly, before you pulled away, looking nervous again.
"Was that okay?" You asked, and your voice was quieter than before, uncertain. "I should have asked first probably but you were taking too long to —"
Heeseung cut you off by kissing you again, properly this time. He brought one hand up to cup your face and he could feel how warm your skin was under his palm, could feel the slight texture of it like actual skin and not polygons. His other hand stayed linked with yours and he squeezed gently, anchoring himself to you, to this moment that felt too real to be made of code. This kiss was different from the first one. Longer, more certain, like now that he knew what he was doing he could actually do it right. You made this small sound against his mouth, something between a sigh and a hum, and Heeseung felt it all the way down to his toes. He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss and you responded immediately, your free hand coming up to rest against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
This has too much detail, Heeseung thought distantly. Games didn't work like this. He shouldn't be able to feel the way your breath hitched when he kissed the corner of your mouth. Shouldn't be able to notice how you leaned into him, closing whatever small distance had been between you. Shouldn't be able to smell your perfume or feel the way your hair brushed against his hand when you tilted your head.
romance: 100%. relationship established | achievement unlocked: first kiss | achievement unlocked: good ending route - mutual confession.
You pulled back just enough to breathe, and Heeseung followed without thinking, not ready to stop yet. You laughed softly against his mouth, the sound vibrating between you, and kissed him again. This time it was you who took control, you who pressed closer, and Heeseung let you, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. He could feel your heartbeat and that's what finally made his brain catch up to what was happening. His thumb was resting against your pulse point and he could feel it racing, quick and real and impossible. Games didn't simulate heartbeats. Games didn't need that level of detail. But he could feel it anyway, the proof that maybe you were here, that this was happening, even if it shouldn't be possible.
"Okay," you said quietly, and you were smiling. He could hear it in your voice even before he saw it.
Heeseung laughed, the sound coming out rougher than he intended. "That was better than okay."
You opened your eyes and looked at him, and Heeseung's breath caught because the detail was impossible. He could see the exact color of your eyes, could see the way they reflected the light from the streetlamps, could see the slight dilation of your pupils. This wasn't game graphics. This was too real. This was beyond anything Jungwon could have programmed. "You're staring," you said, but you didn't sound upset about it. If anything you sounded pleased, a little shy.
"Sorry," Heeseung said, but he didn't look away. "I'm just — you're really pretty."
You bit your lip, trying not to smile too wide, and Heeseung watched the movement with more attention than was probably appropriate. He wanted to kiss you again. He wanted to stay in this moment forever. He wanted to understand how any of this was possible. "Can I ask you something?" Heeseung said, his voice barely above a whisper because speaking any louder felt like it would shatter whatever spell they were under.
"Anything," you said, and your hand was still pressed against his chest and Heeseung wondered if you could feel his heartbeat too, if the game had coded that detail as well.
"Does this feel real to you?"
You tilted your head slightly, considering the question. "What do you mean?"
"This. Us. Right now." Heeseung knew he wasn't making sense but he needed to know, needed to understand if you felt it too, this strange impossible realness of everything. "Does it feel real?"
You were quiet for a moment, your expression thoughtful, and then you squeezed his hand. "It's the most real thing I've ever felt," you said simply. "Why? Does it not feel real to you?"
"No, it does. That's the problem." Heeseung couldn't explain what he meant without revealing that you were in a game, that this was all supposed to be simulation, that none of this should feel the way it did. "It feels too real."
"I don't think something can feel too real," you said, and you leaned in and pecked his lips, soft and quick. "Either it's real or it's not. And this is real." Heeseung wanted to argue, wanted to explain all the reasons why this couldn't be real, why you couldn't be real. Maybe it didn't matter. maybe real was just whatever felt like this. "Kiss me again," you said against his mouth, and it wasn't really a question. So Heeseung did. He kissed you until he forgot where he ended and you began, until the only thing that existed was this: You and him and this impossible moment that felt more real than anything in his actual life ever had.
Eventually though, the world started to glitch again. The colors began bleeding together and the sounds got distant and muffled. Heeseung felt that familiar pulling sensation and knew his time was up. "Hey," he said urgently, taking both your hands. "I—"
"It's okay," you said, and you were smiling even though your eyes looked sad. "I know you have to go."
"I don't want to."
"I know. But you'll come back, right?"
save data complete. route finished: good ending achieved. new game+ unlocked. additional content available.
"Yeah," Heeseung promised. "I'll come back."
You kissed him one more time, quick and desperate, and then the world dissolved completely and Heeseung was falling backward through light and color and static. He woke up gasping in his desk chair, controller clutched in his hands so tight his fingers had gone numb. The switch screen was showing the ending credits, rolling slowly with soft music playing. His face felt wet and he realized with some embarrassment that he was crying.
congratulations! you've completed the good ending route.
relationship status: official couple.
total play time: 51 hours, 23 minutes.
would you like to start new game+ with additional couple content?
yes / no
Heeseung stared at the options, his hands still shaking, his heart still racing. He thought about you, about your smile and your laugh and the way you'd kissed him. He thought about how none of it was real but all of it felt real, which was somehow worse. But there was more content. The game was offering him more time with you. More dates, more conversations, more moments. How could he say no to that?
His thumb hovered over the yes option for only a second before he pressed it. The screen went black. Heeseung waited. The switch made its usual loading sound, the soft hum that meant something was processing. He stared at the blank screen and waited for the menu to load, for the game to boot up, for something to happen. But nothing happened, the screen stayed completely black. No loading bar, no menu, no error message. Just his own reflection staring back at him in the screen's surface. He looked terrible, he realized distantly. His eyes were red rimmed and his hair was a mess and he looked like he hadn't slept in days, which was probably accurate.
"Come on," Heeseung muttered, pressing the home button. The switch menu popped up normally, showing all his other games, his profile, the usual interface. He clicked back into Girlfriend Simulator and the screen went black again. he waited another thirty seconds, nothing. He restarted the entire console. When it booted back up and he launched the game, the screen flickered once, twice, and then showed the title screen. Heeseung felt relief flood through him, almost dizzy with it. He clicked continue. The screen loaded for a moment, and then: game over. thank you for playing.
Credits started rolling. The same soft music from before, the same slow scroll of names and acknowledgments. Heeseung watched them pass in disbelief, his stomach sinking further with each line. When the credits finished, it kicked him back to the title screen. He clicked continue again. Same thing: game over, credits, title screen. "What the hell," Heeseung said out loud. He tried load game instead, pulling up his save files. They were all there, all his progress, all forty seven hours of gameplay. He selected the most recent one, the completed route with the good ending marker.
this save file has been completed | start new game+ to continue.
He clicked yes. Black screen. Then after a long pause: error: unable to load content.
"No no no no," Heeseung heard himself saying, clicking frantically now, trying every option, every menu, every possible path to get back into the game. Nothing worked. He checked the time on his phone. 3:29 am. He'd been playing for hours and now he'd been trying to reload for almost thirty minutes. His rational brain knew he should sleep, should deal with this tomorrow when he was thinking clearly, but his rational brain had apparently left the building several dates ago.
He pulled up his recent calls and hit jungwon's name before he could think better of it. it rang once, twice, three times. Then voicemail, Jungwon's voice cheerful and pre recorded telling him to leave a message. Of course Jungwon wasn't answering, it was almost four in the morning. Normal people were asleep at four in the morning. Normal people weren't having breakdowns over video games at four in the morning. Heeseung put his head in his hands and tried to remember the last time he'd felt this hollow about something ending. A relationship, maybe, though his dating history was sparse enough that he couldn't think of a good comparison. This felt worse somehow. The rational part of his brain that hadn't completely shut down was telling him this was ridiculous. Well, it could happen, people got attached to fictional characters all the time. The solution was obvious: take a break, get some perspective, maybe go outside and remember what actual human interaction felt like.
But the rest of him, the larger and louder part, was stuck on the way you'd looked at him on that park bench. The way you'd smiled when he gave you the flower. The way you'd kissed him like you'd been wanting to for a while and were just waiting for permission. The way you'd felt real, impossibly real, more real than most of the interactions he had in his day to day life. "It's not real," Heeseung said out loud to his dark room, his voice rough. "She's not real. It's just code. Just really good code that learned too well."
But his chest ached anyway. And somewhere around six am, Heeseung finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, his switch still sitting on his desk with the title screen frozen on the display. When his alarm went off three hours later for his morning class, Heeseung woke up feeling worse than when he'd gone to sleep. His eyes were gritty and his head hurt and his chest still had that hollow ache that he couldn't explain away as anything other than what it was.
Heeseung found Jungwon in the computer lab during lunch, exactly where he always was. "Hey," Heeseung said, dropping into the chair next to him. He pulled his switch out of his bag and set it on the desk between them. "The game broke."
"What do you mean broke?" Jungwon glanced at the switch, then at Heeseung, then did a double take. "Dude, you look terrible."
He decided to ignore that. "I mean I finished it. Got to the end, got the good ending, and then it asked if i wanted to start new game plus." Heeseung picked up the switch and demonstrated, clicking through the menus. "I said yes and then it just stopped working. Look, it keeps giving me this error or just showing the game over screen. I can load old saves but I can't progress forward."
Jungwon took the switch, frowning at the screen. He clicked through a few menus, tried the same things Heeseung had tried, and his frown deepened. "That's weird. The new game plus feature should be fully implemented. I tested it before I gave you the build."
"Well it's not working now."
"Yeah, I can see that." Jungwon was scrolling through something, his expression shifting from confused to concerned. "This is really strange. It's like the save file is corrupted but also not corrupted? Like it knows you finished the route but it can't load the post game content."
"Can you fix it?" Heeseung asked, and he hated how desperate he sounded but couldn't seem to help it.
Jungwon looked at him for a long moment. "I can try. I'll need to take this and run some diagnostics, see what's actually happening in the backend. But Heeseung, I need you to manage your expectations here."
"What does that mean?"
"It means this is a test build. That's literally why I asked you to play it, to find bugs like this. If something went seriously wrong with the code, if the file corruption is bad enough, I might have to rebuild the entire post game sequence from scratch. That's going to take time."
"How much time?" Heeseung asked, and his voice came out smaller than he intended.
"I don't know. Could be that I have to scrap this version entirely and start over with a clean build." Jungwon was being gentle about it but firm, like he needed Heeseung to understand the reality of the situation. "This is what testing is for dude, finding the breaking points before release."
Heeseung felt something sink in his chest. Weeks. Or maybe never, if Jungwon had to start over. "Okay," he said, because what else could he say. "Okay, just let me know what you find."
"Yeah." Jungwon pocketed the switch cartridge and gave Heeseung another concerned look. "Seriously though, are you okay? You're acting really weird about this."
"I'm fine," Heeseung lied. "Just frustrated. I was really into it and now I can't finish it."
"It's just a game though."
"I know that."
Jungwon didn't look convinced but he didn't push it either. "Okay. Well, go get some sleep or something. You look like you're about to pass out."
Heeseung nodded and left the lab, feeling hollow in a way that didn't make sense. It was just a game. Jungwon was right. He'd gotten too invested and now he needed to take a step back and remember that normal people didn't have emotional breakdowns over dating simulators. He went to his afternoon lecture and sat in the back and didn't retain a single word the professor said. He took notes anyway, his hand moving automatically across the page while his brain was somewhere else entirely. He kept thinking about you waiting in that park, kept wondering if you were still there or if you'd disappeared when the save file corrupted. Kept wondering if code could feel abandoned.
After class he went back to his dorm and tried to do homework. He opened his algorithms textbook and stared at the same problem for twenty minutes without making any progress. Jake came in around six, dumping his bag on the couch and immediately noticing something was off. "You good?" Jake asked, pulling off his jacket.
"Yeah, fine. Just tired."
"You've been saying that all week." Jake sat down at his own desk and spun his chair to face Heeseung. "You've been acting weirder than usual. What's going on?"
Heeseung considered lying but he was too exhausted to come up with anything convincing. "I was playing this game Jungwon made, got really into it and now it's broken and I can't play it anymore and I'm being weird about it."
"Oh." Jake processed this. "Was it one of those games with like, romance options and stuff?"
"Yeah."
Jake nodded slowly, like this explained everything. "Okay, those games are designed to get you attached, man, it's not your fault." He paused. "By the way, there's a party this weekend. Jay's throwing it at his place. You should come."
"I don't know," Heeseung said.
"Come on, it'll be good for you. Get out of your head for a bit. When was the last time you went to a party?"
Heeseung tried to remember and couldn't. "I don't know. Freshman year maybe?"
"Exactly. You need to socialize with actual human beings. No offense but you've been kind of hermiting lately." Jake was already pulling out his phone. "I'm telling Jay you're coming. It's saturday at eight."
"I don't —"
"Nope, you're coming. I'm not letting you sit here and mope about a video game all weekend. That's sad, even for you."
"What does that even—," Heeseung wanted to argue but he was too tired and Jake had a point. Sitting in his room thinking about you wasn't going to fix anything. Maybe going to a party would help. "Okay, yeah, fine," Heeseung said. "I'll go."
"Good. It's going to be fun." Jake turned back to his desk, already texting. "And who knows, maybe you'll meet someone."
Heeseung doubted that but didn't say it out loud. And saturday came faster than Heeseung expected, which was probably for the best because it meant less time to think about backing out. Jake had been monitoring him all day like he was afraid Heeseung would make a run for it, which was fair because Heeseung had definitely considered it at least three times.
By the time eight rolled around, Jake had already gone through Heeseung's entire closet and vetoed most of it. "You can't wear that, it has a stain. That one's too wrinkled. That shirt makes you look like someone's dad." Eventually they settled on black jeans and a dark blue button up that Heeseung had forgotten he owned, probably because he'd bought it for some family thing two years ago and never wore it again. "There," Jake said, looking satisfied. "You look like an actual person now instead of a sleep deprived computer science major."
"I am a sleep deprived computer science major."
"Yeah but you don't have to advertise it." Jake was already heading for the door.
The party was at some place off campus that apparently belonged to Jay's older brother, which explained why it was bigger and nicer than most student housing. The music was loud enough that Heeseung could feel it in his chest before they even got through the door. Jake immediately got pulled into a conversation with some people from his econ class, and Heeseung grabbed a drink from the kitchen just to have something to do with his hands. He wandered through for a while, recognizing some faces from classes but not really knowing anyone well enough to join their conversations. this was why he didn't go to parties. He always ended up standing awkwardly in corners wondering when it would be acceptable to leave.
"Heeseung!" Someone called, and he turned to see Beomgyu waving at him from the balcony. "Dude, I didn't know you went to parties. Come here." Heeseung made his way through the crowd to the balcony where Beomgyu was standing with Soobin and Riki, and the air was clearer out here, easier to breathe. Beomgyu was holding what was very obviously a joint. "Want some?" Beomgyu offered, holding it out. "It's good stuff."
Heeseung normally would have said no because he had assignments due and didn't really like losing control of his thoughts, but tonight his thoughts were the problem so maybe losing control of them for a bit wasn't the worst idea. "Yeah, okay."
He took it and inhaled, immediately coughed. It felt someone had turned down the volume on all his anxious thoughts. He passed it back to Beomgyu and leaned against the railing. They stood out there for a while, passing the joint around, and Heeseung felt himself relax in a way he hadn't in days. Eventually they went back inside and the party had gotten more crowded. Heeseung got another drink and let himself get pulled into a conversation about the upcoming finals with some people he vaguely recognized from his algorithms class. The weed was making everything feel softer and more manageable, like he could actually handle being around this many people without wanting to escape.
Jake found him around eleven and looked genuinely shocked. "You're still here. And you're smiling. Did someone drug you?"
"I drugged myself, actually. Beomgyu had weed."
"Good for you. See, I knew this would be good for you." Jake clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm going to get another drink. You good?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
And the weird thing was that Heeseung actually meant it. He was good. He was at a party and he wasn't hating it and he hadn't thought about the game in at least an hour. Maybe this was what moving on felt like, just slowly forgetting to think about the thing that had been consuming you.
He made his way toward where people were dancing, not to join them but just to watch, and that's when he saw you. Or someone who looked exactly like you.
You were in the middle of the crowd, dancing with a group of friends, and Heeseung's brain stopped. Same hair, same face, same smile he'd memorized over dozens of hours of gameplay. You were wearing a black dress and your hair was down and you were laughing at something one of her friends said, and Heeseung felt like he'd been punched in the chest. It couldn't be you. It just couldn't be. You weren't real. You were code, pixels, a character in a dating simulator that didn't even work anymore. But she looked exactly like you, moved like you, had the same mannerisms he'd come to recognize, and Heeseung couldn't look away.
He stood there frozen, drink forgotten in his hand, just staring. The weed was definitely not helping because it made everything feel surreal and dreamlike, like maybe he'd fallen asleep at the party and this was just his brain torturing him with what he couldn't have. You spun around to the music and laughed and Heeseung's heart was doing something painful in his chest.
And then, as if you could feel him watching, you turned and looked directly at him. Your eyes met across the crowd and the world seemed to stop. Your expression shifted from happy to confused to something Heeseung couldn't identify, like recognition but also shock, like you'd seen a ghost. A pretty one, actually. You stared at him with the same intensity he was staring at you, both of you frozen while people danced and laughed around them, completely oblivious to whatever moment was happening. And Heeseung's mind was racing. You seemed to recognize him, but that was impossible because you'd never met, because you were a stranger, because the person you looked like didn't exist outside of a video game.
Your friends said something to you and you blinked, breaking eye contact. You looked at them, said something Heeseung couldn't hear over the music, and then looked back at him one more time. That same confused, almost dazed expression. Then you turned back to your friends and kept dancing, but your movements were more mechanical now, less loose, like you were going through the motions while your mind was somewhere else. Heeseung just stood there, rooted to the spot, his drink sweating in his hand. His heart was pounding and his head was spinning and he couldn't tell if it was the weed or the shock or both. Probably both. He was high at a party and he'd just seen someone who looked like a video game character and convinced himself it meant something. He was hallucinating. He had to be hallucinating. Or the weed was laced with something. Or he'd finally actually lost his mind.
He turned and pushed through the crowd, Making his way to the bathroom. He needed to splash water on his face, Needed to get his head straight, needed to stop seeing you everywhere just because he missed the game. Heeseung practically fell inside and locked the door behind him. He turned on the faucet and let the water run cold, then splashed it on his face once, twice, three times. The shock of it helped, made everything feel more real and less dreamlike.
He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were definitely red from the weed and he looked slightly unhinged, hair messed up from running his hands through it too many times. "You're fine," he told his reflection. "You're high and you're seeing things and you're fine. She just looks like her. Lots of people probably look like her. Jungwon probably based the character on some generic attractive person template. It doesn't mean anything."
Someone knocked on the bathroom door. He splashed more water on his face, dried off with a questionable towel that was hanging on the rack, and tried to pull himself together. He couldn't hide in the bathroom all night. He needed to go back out there, find Jake, maybe go home and sleep this off. Maybe in the morning this would all make sense or at least feel less overwhelming.
He opened the door and nearly ran directly into you. "Oh, I'm sorry," you said quickly, stepping back.
Heeseung froze. Up close you were even more exactly like the character from the game, every detail perfect, from the shape of your eyes to the way you were nervously adjusting the strap of your dress. You looked at him for a second, that same confused recognition flickering across your face, and then you moved to step past him.
"Wait," Heeseung said, turning before he could stop himself. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. "I'm sorry, do we know each other from somewhere?"
You stopped and turned back, tilting your head slightly as you studied his face. "No, I don't think so. I think I'd remember if we'd met before." You paused, and then your eyes widened slightly like you'd just heard what you said. "I mean, not that I'm saying you have a particularly memorable face or anything. Wait, that sounds bad. I'm not saying you're forgettable either, you're just— " you stopped yourself and took a breath. "Sorry, I'm making this weird. I don't think we've met but you do seem familiar somehow."
Heeseung just stared at you, his brain trying to process the fact that you were standing in front of him, real and solid and rambling nervously in the exact same way the game character had. The same mannerisms, the same voice, the same way of talking yourself into circles when you were flustered. It was you. It was actually you. "Are you okay?" You asked, looking concerned now.
"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine." Heeseung tried to pull himself together. "You just really remind me of someone."
"Good someone or bad someone?"
"Good someone. Definitely good someone."
You smiled at that, a small genuine smile that made Heeseung's chest ache because he'd seen that exact smile dozens of times through a screen. "Well that's good at least. I'm Y/N, by the way."
"Heeseung."
"Nice to meet you, Heeseung." You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, and Heeseung noticed your phone in your hand. The case had a photocard of a character that he recognized immediately — Janna from League of Legends, in her star guardian skin.
"You play league?" He asked before he could think better of it.
Your face lit up. "Yeah! How'd you know?"
"Your phone case."
"Oh my god, yes." You turned your phone to show him properly, looking pleased that he'd recognized it. "I'm a Janna main and I'm not ashamed of it." Heeseung felt something cold run down his spine. Those words. he'd heard those exact words before. "I know, I know," you continued, in the same tone, the same cadence. "Support is boring or whatever, but someone has to keep the ADC alive and it might as well be me."
Heeseung couldn't breathe. Word for word. You'd just said exactly what you'd said in the game, with the same inflection, the same defensive pride. This wasn't a coincidence. This couldn't be a coincidence. "What rank are you?" He managed to ask, his voice coming out rougher than intended.
"Plat 2. I was almost diamond last season but then I had finals and gave up on the grind." You were fully animated now, talking with your hands. "What about you, do you play?"
"Yeah. Diamond 3."
"Oh so you're actually good." You looked impressed. "We should play together sometime."
The world tilted. Heeseung was pretty sure he was having some kind of break from reality because this conversation had already happened. He'd already lived through this exact exchange in the game, and now it was happening again in real life with a real person standing in front of him saying the same things.
"Heeseung!" Someone called out, and Heeseung turned to see Jungwon pushing through the hallway crowd, looking genuinely shocked. "Holy shit, you actually came to a party. I didn't think I'd see this day." Jungwon reached them and then seemed to notice you for the first time. His expression shifted from surprised to confused. "Wait, you two know each other?"
"You know each other?" Heeseung and you said at the exact same time, then looked at each other in surprise.
Jungwon looked between the two of you, his confusion deepening. "Yeah, Y/N's in my game design class." He turned to you. "And Heeseung's my best friend, we're in the same program."
"Wait, so you're that Heeseung!" You looked at him. "He talks about you all the time, by the way. I know your entire sleep schedule at this point."
"That's concerning," Heeseung said.
"Very concerning," you agreed. "So what brings you to the party?" You asked Heeseung. "Jungwon made it sound like you're basically a hermit who only emerges for classes and food."
"My roommate forced me to come. Said I needed to socialize."
"Same, actually. My best friend is around here somewhere." You glanced back toward the party. "She has this theory that I spend too much time gaming and not enough time experiencing real life."
"Gaming is real life," Heeseung said.
"Exactly! That's what I told her." You seemed genuinely pleased that he understood. "But she's on this whole thing about how I need to make more friends and go out more and whatever. So here I am, at a party, making friends." You gestured between yourself and Heeseung. "Look at me, being social."
"Thanks, I'm trying." You checked your phone quickly. "Speaking of my roommate, she's texting me asking where I went. I should probably get back." You looked at Heeseung. "But seriously, add me on league. I meant what I said about playing together."
"Yeah, I will," Heeseung said, and he meant it even though his brain was still trying to process the fact that you were real and standing in front of him.
"Cool. See you guys around." You smiled at both of them and headed back toward the party, weaving through the people in the hallway.
The moment you were out of sight, Heeseung grabbed Jungwon's arm and pulled him toward the front door, outside where it was quieter and they could actually talk without shouting over music. "Dude, what the hell," Heeseung said the moment they were on the sidewalk. "You used her to make the character in the game?"
Jungwon blinked at him. "What? No. What are you talking about?"
"The character in girlfriend simulator. She's exactly like Y/N. Exactly like her, Jungwon. Same face, same personality, same everything."
Jungwon's confusion seemed genuine. "Heeseung, the character customization is completely random for each player. I'm still working on implementing a proper character creator but I ran out of time, so right now it just generates a random appearance based on some base parameters. I didn't use anyone specific as a model."
"That's impossible. She looks exactly like her."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah! I spent fifty one hours with that character. I know what she looks like." Heeseung could hear how unhinged he sounded but he couldn't stop. "And it's not just appearance. The way she talks, the things she said— it's all the same, like, word for word."
Jungwon was quiet for a moment, his expression shifting from confused to concerned. "Okay, I think you need to calm down for a second. I think maybe you played the game too much and now you're seeing patterns that aren't there. Like, you spent all week interacting with this character and now you meet someone who has some similar traits and your brain is making connections."
"Jungwon, I'm not making it up."
"I'm not saying you're making it up, I'm saying your brain might be filling in similarities that aren't actually there." Jungwon pulled out his phone. "Look, I don't even really know Y/N that well. We work on projects together but we don't like, hang out or have deep conversations. I definitely didn't use her as a base for anything."
Heeseung felt something cold settle in his stomach. "Then how do you explain the game knowing things about her? The league stuff, the personality, all of it?"
"The game generates dialogue based on common interests and gaming culture. Lots of people play league. lots of people main support. It's not that weird that there'd be overlap." Jungwon looked genuinely worried now. "Heeseung, I think the game messed with your head more than I thought it would. Maybe we should scrap it entirely."
"No," Heeseung said quickly. "No, I just — I need to understand what happened."
Jungwon sighed. "Look, I actually gave the game to Y/N to test too. A while back, before I gave it to you."
Heeseung's head snapped up. "You what?"
"There's an option in the loading screen. You can choose to play as the protagonist or as the girlfriend. I thought it would be cool to have both perspectives, make it more replayable." Jungwon was scrolling through his phone now. "You didn't see that option?"
"No. There was just a loading screen and then it started."
"Weird. It should have given you a choice." Jungwon pulled up what looked like a message thread. "Anyway, I gave Y/N a beta version to test like a month ago. But she gave it back to me after one day. Said it was too realistic and kind of freaked her out."
"What do you mean too realistic?"
"She said the immersion was too intense. She said it made her uncomfortable how real the boyfriend character seemed." Jungwon looked up from his phone. "Which, now that I think about it, is basically the same thing you've been saying about the girlfriend character."
Heeseung's mind was racing. "So she played it. She played the game from the other perspective."
"Yeah, but just for a few hours. She didn't finish it or anything." Jungwon pocketed his phone. "Why does that matter?"
"I don't know. It just — " Heeseung stopped, trying to organize his thoughts.
Jungwon was watching him carefully. "You look kind of freaked out right now."
Heeseung leaned against the wall of the building, suddenly exhausted. "I just spent a week falling for someone who I thought was just code. And now I find out she looks like a real person and I've been talking to her for the past fifteen minutes like a normal person and I don't know what to do with that information."
"Well, she gave you her discord. You could message her. Play some League together. Get to know the real her instead of the game version." Jungwon paused. "Unless that's too weird for you."
So when Heeseung was ready to leave the party, Jake and Jungwon looked almost disappointed but didn’t argue. They made their way through the crowd toward the front door, and that’s when Heeseung saw you again. You were standing on the sidewalk with two other girls, you were bent over laughing, that genuine kind of laugh where you forget to be self conscious about it.
Heeseung slowed down without meaning to, and Jake nearly walked into him. But then you looked up, like you could sense someone watching. your eyes met Heeseung’s across the sidewalk and you smiled, a smile that felt almost conspiratorial. Like you two were in on a joke that nobody else knew about. Which was insane because you’d met like half an hour ago and had one conversation in a hallway. One of your friends said something and you broke eye contact, still smiling, and climbed into the back seat of the car. Through the window Heeseung could see you saying something that made your friends crack up again. The car pulled away and you didn’t look back, but Heeseung kept staring at the taillights until they disappeared around the corner.
“Okay, what was that?” Jake asked.
“What was what?”
“That whole…” Jake gestured vaguely. “Moment. You guys were having a moment.”
“We weren’t having a moment.”
“You were definitely having a moment. Who was that?”
“Just someone I met. Friend of Jungwon’s.” Heeseung started walking toward their dorm and Jake followed, still looking suspicious.
“You met someone and had a moment with them? At a party? Did I slip into an alternate dimension?”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious, this is unprecedented behavior from you. You don’t do moments with strangers.” Heeseung didn’t know how to explain that it hadn’t felt like meeting a stranger. It had felt like running into someone he already knew, someone he’d been thinking about for days. Which was objectively insane but that didn’t make it any less true.
When they got back to the dorm, Jake immediately went to take a shower, still talking about the party through the bathroom door. Heeseung sat down at his desk and opened his laptop, pulling up discord before he could talk himself out of it. He typed your name into the search bar. There were like fifteen results but he scrolled through until he found one account that matched your username, with a profile picture that matched; a cute drawing of what looked like a cat in a witch hat. He clicked on your profile and immediately started going through your connected accounts and activity like some kind of creep, but whatever, that’s what public profiles were for, right?
Steam account: 847 hours in League of Legends, which was honestly rookie numbers compared to his own. Recently played Roblox, which he wasn’t going to judge because he had his own embarrassing game collection. He’d been growing a garden in Grow a Garden for like six months now and his sunflowers were thriving, thank you very much. Stardew Valley with 234 hours, which was extremely respectable and also adorable. Unpacking with a lot of hours, which he’d never played but had heard good things about. And The Sims 4 with an amount of hours that suggested you had a serious problem with simulation games. Which, to be honest, he kind of had it now too.
Your Spotify was connected too and he could see you’d been listening to a lot of bedroom pop and indie stuff. Your about me section just said “life ain't cookies n cream lil fella,” which made Heeseung chuckle. You had a sense of humor, which is something he kind of already knew, even though he only knew the game version of you.
Heeseung realized he’d been sitting there scrolling through your profile for like ten minutes and definitely needed to actually send the friend request before this got any weirder. He clicked add friend and then immediately closed his laptop like it might explode. He tried to do other things. He checked his phone. He looked at his algorithms homework and immediately closed that because absolutely not. He reorganized the pens on his desk. He considered making ramen but wasn’t actually hungry. Until his laptop pinged. Heeseung lunged for it so fast he almost his water bottle off the desk. He opened discord and there it was: you accepted his friend request. His heart was doing something stupid in his chest. It was just a discord notification, normal people didn’t have heart palpitations over discord notifications. But Heeseung wasn't normal anymore.
But before he could stop himself, before his brain could catch up with what his hands were doing, he opened the dm and typed hey and then, because apparently he was determined to embarrass himself, he sent the little waving robot sticker that discord suggested unintentionally. He stared at what he’d just done in absolute horror. The waving robot. He’d sent you the waving robot sticker. “Oh my god,” Heeseung said out loud to his empty room. His fingers were already flying across the keyboard.
heeseung: sorry lol
heeseung: idk why i sent that
heeseung: the robot i mean
heeseung: anyway hi
He watched the three dots appear that meant you were typing. they disappeared. appeared again. Disappeared. Heeseung was going to have a heart attack.
you: no the robot was cute
you: very welcoming
you: really set the tone
Heeseung couldn’t tell if you were making fun of him or not.
heeseung: the tone being what exactly
heeseung: desperate?
you: i was gonna say endearing but sure we can go with desperate
Heeseung laughed out loud, an actual laugh that made Jake yell “You good?” from the bathroom. Heeseung didn't answer.
heeseung: cool cool cool love that for me
heeseung: starting strong
you: you’re doing great
you: so did you add me just to apologize for an emoji or was there something else
Heeseung stared at the message. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He could play it cool, say something casual about League or whatever. Or he could be honest, which was terrifying but also the weed was still kind of in his system making everything feel less scary than it probably should.
heeseung: honestly i just wanted to talk to you more
heeseung: the conversation in the hallway was cool
The thing was, Heeseung felt bold saying that. Actually bold. This was probably the most direct he’d been with someone (in real life) in years, and he half expected you to think it was weird or too forward or whatever. But you didn’t. You just said “aw that’s sweet, me too!” with a smiley face and kept talking, and Heeseung felt something in his chest unclench. And you talked for hours. About games mostly, because that was the safe territory, the common ground. You told him about how you had been completely consumed by Pokemon Legends ZA, playing it every free moment you had. He admitted he’d loved Arceus when it came out but hadn’t gotten around to ZA yet, and you immediately started telling him everything he was missing out on, your messages coming in quick bursts of enthusiasm about the new mechanics and the Kalos region and how you’d already put in like sixty hours.
You asked him what his favorite games of all time were and he gave you his top five, and you had opinions about all of them, good opinions, the kind that made him want to keep talking just to hear what you’d say next. Somewhere around 1am you sent: “btw you seem really cool hee. we should play something together sometime if you’re down” and Heeseung stared at that message for long enough. You’d called him hee. You’d given him a nickname. And you wanted to play games together. His fingers hovered over the keyboard and he could feel his face getting warm, which was stupid because you couldn’t even see him, but his body didn’t seem to care about logic.
heeseung: yeah definitely
heeseung: i’d be really down for that
You sent back a heart emoji and said you had to sleep, and Heeseung said goodnight, and then he just sat there for a minute staring at the conversation like if he looked at it long enough he could figure out what was happening to him. He was down bad, really down bad. Which was insane because he’d been down bad before this even happened, down bad for a video game character that turned out to look exactly like you, and now he was down bad for the actual real you, and his brain couldn’t quite process the overlap. It felt like two separate situations that had merged into one extremely confusing situation that he didn’t know how to handle.
When he finally went to bed that night, he had that specific feeling you get when something really good has just happened and you’re lying in the dark replaying it in your head. That flutter in your stomach, that slight buzz of excitement, that sense that you’ve just met someone who’s probably going to matter. Someone who’s going to take up space in your life in a way you can’t predict yet but can already feel coming.
And he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t spend the entire next week looking for you on campus. Not in a weird way. Or maybe in a weird way, but he was trying to make it not weird. He’d just happen to walk past the design building between classes. He’d just happen to take a longer route to the dining hall that went by the areas where Jungwon said you usually hung out. He’d just happen to check the game design lab when he was meeting Jungwon, looking around all casual like he wasn’t actively scanning for your face.
Monday: nothing. Tuesday: he saw someone with similar hair from behind and did a weird half jog to catch up only to realize it was absolutely not you and he’d just chased down a complete stranger for no reason. Wednesday: he sat in the campus coffee shop for two hours pretending to do homework but really just watching the door. Thursday: more nothing. By friday Heeseung was starting to think maybe you were a figment of his imagination, maybe the whole party had been a fever dream, maybe he’d made you up entirely. So by afternoon Heeseung had given up. He was going to the library to actually do the algorithms homework he’d been ignoring all week, and he was going to stop being a weird person who wandered around campus hoping to accidentally run into someone.
Except then he walked into the library and saw you. You were tucked into a corner on the second floor, the quiet study section where people went to actually focus. Your laptop was open in front of you, headphones on, and you were doing that thing where you chewed on your pen cap while reading something on the screen. There were books and papers scattered around you in what looked like organized chaos, and your coffee cup said something in sharpie that Heeseung couldn’t read from where he was standing like a creep behind a bookshelf.
Okay. Okay, this was fine. This was a normal situation. You were here, he was here, both of you were in a library because that’s what students do. He just had to walk over there and say hi. Simple. Easy. Not weird at all. But what if you were in the zone? What if you were working on something important and he interrupted and you got annoyed? What if you didn’t actually want to see him and had just been being polite when you said you should play games sometime? He could just sit near you, not like right next to you, but in the general area. That would be natural. He needed to study anyway, it made sense to sit in the quiet section. So he picked a table that was close but not too close. Close enough that you might notice him but far enough that it didn’t look intentional.
He sat down and pulled out his laptop and his textbook, arranging them very carefully, very normally. Then he just sat there, staring at his algorithms homework. Not doing it, just staring. But five minutes passed and you hadn’t looked up. Heeseung opened his laptop. Closed it. Opened it again. He was being ridiculous. He should just get up and go say hi because that’s what normal people did. Normal people didn’t stage elaborate accidental meetings, they just walked up and said hello. He stood up, sat back down, stood up again. And then you finally looked up. Heeseung froze, half standing, half sitting, in the most awkward position possible. You pulled off your headphones and your face went from confused to surprised to happy in the span of like two seconds.
“Heeseung?” You said, keeping your voice library quiet. “What are you doing?”
“Studying,” Heeseung said too quickly, and then realized he was still in that weird half crouch position and sat down properly. “I mean, I was about to. study. I’m here to study.”
You smiled and Heeseung’s brain stopped for a moment. “Oh cool. Me too, obviously.” You gestured at your chaos of books and papers. "Working on this project that’s slowly killing me.”
“Do you want company?” Heeseung asked, and then immediately wanted to take it back because what if you said no, what if you were here specifically to study alone, what if—
“Yeah, actually that’d be nice.” You started clearing some space on your table, moving books and papers around. “I’ve been here for like three hours and I’m losing my mind. Could use a distraction.” So Heeseung grabbed his stuff and moved to your table, trying very hard to look like this was a normal thing he did all the time, sitting with people in libraries, being a person who had casual study sessions with other people. “So,” you said, once he was settled across from you. “What are the odds we both ended up in the same random corner of the library?”
You agreed, and there was something in the way you said it that made Heeseung think maybe you knew it wasn’t really a coincidence, maybe you’d seen him doing his weird laps around the second floor, but you were being nice about it. You settled into studying, or at least Heeseung pretended to study while you actually did work. You’d put your headphones back on but kept one ear uncovered, just in case he needed to ask you something about something, which he definitely wasn’t going to do because he wasn’t actually reading anything on the page in front of him.
Instead he was watching you, maybe in a weird way, but he couldn’t help it. Because sitting there across from you, seeing you up close in the quiet library light, Heeseung was hit with how much you looked like the character from the game. It wasn’t just the face, though that was uncanny enough. It was the mannerisms and the little things, like the way you bit your bottom lip when you were concentrating, eyes narrowed slightly at your screen. The way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear every few minutes even though it would just fall back. The way your nose would scrunch up a little when you read something confusing. He’d seen all of this before, dozens of times, in the game. I mean you had done all of these exact things, in the game.
You looked up suddenly and Heeseung’s eyes immediately darted to his textbook, pretending he’d been reading the whole time. He could feel you looking at him for a second before you went back to your work, and Heeseung let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. This happened like four more times. Very smooth. Very natural. Definitely not obvious at all.
Then you checked your phone and made a small sound of surprise. “Oh shit, I have class in ten minutes.” You started packing up your stuff quickly, shoving papers into your bag without any real organization. “I totally lost track of time.”
“Yeah, me too,” Heeseung lied, because he’d been very aware of every single minute.
You stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder, and then you leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. Just like that. Casual and quick. Your lips pressed against his cheek for maybe half a second before you pulled back. “Thanks for keeping me company,” you said, smiling. “See you later, Hee.”
And then you were gone, weaving through the tables toward the stairs, and Heeseung just sat there frozen. His hand slowly came up to touch his cheek where you’d kissed him, like he needed to confirm it had actually happened. His face felt hot. His brain felt scrambled. You’d kissed him on the cheek. People did that, right? That was a normal friend thing? Except you barely knew each other so were you even friends? And why did his cheek feel like it was burning? And Heeseung realized he was just sitting there touching his face like a complete idiot and forced himself to put his hand down. He should pack up, he should go to his next class. He should do literally anything except sit here having a crisis over a cheek kiss. But he didn’t move, he just sat there, staring at nothing, replaying the moment over and over.
“You good, man?” Heeseung’s head snapped up. Jungwon was standing next to the table, looking at him with concern and also amusement, which was a terrible combination.
“When did you get here?”
“Like two minutes ago. You were very deep in thought.” Jungwon sat down and then casually tossed something onto the table. The switch cartridge, the Girlfriend Simulator cartridge. Heeseung stared at it. “I fixed the game.” Jungwon leaned back in his chair, looking proud of himself. “You can keep playing from where you left off. It was easier to fix than I thought it’d be, just had to rebuild some of the backend routing for the post game content.” Heeseung picked up the cartridge, turning it over in his hands. "The save file's intact," Jungwon continued. “All your progress is still there. The new game plus should work now. I tested it on my switch and it loaded fine."
"Thanks,” Heeseung said, and his voice came out quieter than he meant it to. He shoved the cartridge into his bag and stood up. “I’m leaving."
“Don’t you have that lecture in twenty minutes?”
“Don’t care. Bye.” He left Jungwon sitting there chuckling and headed straight out of the library, across campus, back to his dorm. Jake wasn’t there, which was good because Heeseung didn’t need any more people commenting on his alleged vibe. He sat down at his desk and just looked at the cartridge for a minute. He should think about this. should consider whether playing the game again was a good idea now that he knew you, the real you. Now that things were getting complicated in a way that made his head hurt. But he wasn’t thinking. He was just plugging in his switch, loading up the game, watching the title screen appear with its soft music and clean typography.
continue from last save? yes / no
Heeseung pressed yes immediately. The world materialized around him in that same disorienting rush, colors bleeding into focus, sounds filtering in like someone was slowly turning up the volume. When his vision cleared, he was standing exactly where he’d left off at the park. The fireflies were still drifting lazily through the air like they’d been paused mid flight waiting for him to come back. And you were still sitting on the same bench, looking at him with an expression that made Heeseung’s chest tight.
“You’re back,” you said, and your smile was so genuinely happy it hurt to look at. You stood up and walked over to him, and Heeseung noticed the way the game rendered every detail. The way your hair moved, the exact shade of your eyes, the slight flush on your cheeks. “I missed you.” The words hit him harder than they should have. Heeseung opened his mouth and closed it, trying to figure out what to say. In the game, no time was supposed to have passed. He’d left right after your confession, after the kiss, and now he was back and theoretically it should feel like seconds had gone by. But for him it had been days. Almost a week. A week where he’d met the real you, talked to you, sat across from you in a library, felt your lips on his cheek.
Dialogue options appeared: > i missed you too > sorry i was gone so long > it feels like it’s been forever
Heeseung picked the first one because it was the most honest. “I missed you too,” he said, and he meant it in a way that felt complicated and confusing.
You stepped closer, close enough that Heeseung could see the individual pixels that made up your irises, except they didn’t look like pixels at all. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “After everything, I thought maybe you’d just… disappear.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Heeseung said automatically, and then felt weird about it because he kind of had done that, he’d been gone for days even if the game didn’t register it that way.
You reached up and touched his face, your hand warm against his cheek, and Heeseung’s brain short circuited a little because he could feel it. the texture of your palm, the slight pressure of your fingers. This level of detail shouldn’t be possible. “I really like you,” you said, looking directly into his eyes. “Like, a lot. Is that okay?”
Before Heeseung could pick a dialogue option for that, you kissed him. It wasn’t like the first kiss, this was different. Your hand slid from his cheek to the back of his neck and you pressed closer, and Heeseung forgot for a second that this was supposed to be a game. His hands found your waist automatically, pulling you against him, and you made this small sound that he felt more than heard. When you pulled back, you were breathing harder and your eyes had this look in them that Heeseung recognized from somewhere, that slightly dazed expression people get when they’re thinking about something they want. “Do you want to come back to my place?” You asked, your voice lower now, and your hand was still on the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair in a way that was extremely distracting.
quest update: relationship progression available | warning: mature content ahead | proceed? yes / no | action options: > yes, i’d like that > maybe we should slow down > are you sure?
Heeseung stared at the options. What the fuck. What the actual fuck. This was new, this was definitely new. The game had never had anything like this before. Jungwon had mentioned adding post game content but he definitely hadn’t mentioned adding this kind of content. “Heeseung?” You said, tilting your head slightly. “You okay? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought—”
“No, I want to,” Heeseung said, picking the first option before he could overthink it. “I definitely want to.”
Your smile turned into something that could only be described as pleased, maybe a little mischievous. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, and started walking. The park dissolved around you in that smooth transition the game did, colors bleeding together and reforming into a new location, your apartment, and it looked different now, with softer lighting, more intimate somehow. There was music playing quietly from somewhere, something ambient and atmospheric. You let go of his hand and walked further, then turned to look at him. “You can sit down, you know. You don’t have to just stand there.” Heeseung moved to the couch and sat down, hyperaware of every movement, every detail. His hands felt sweaty and his heart was racing. This was insane, this was absolutely insane. He was about to have virtual sex with a video game character that looked exactly like a real person he’d just met and had a weird complicated semi crush on. You sat down next to him, close enough that your thigh pressed against his. “Can I ask you something?” You said.
“Sure.”
“Why did you come back?” Your expression was serious now, searching his face. “I mean, you finished the route. You got the good ending. You didn’t have to come back.”
dialogue options: > i wanted to see you again > i wasn’t ready to say goodbye > because i care about you
Heeseung picked the third option. “Because I care about you,” he said, and it felt true even though it shouldn’t, even though you were code, even though this wasn’t real.
“I care about you too,” you said quietly. Then you leaned in and kissed him again, and this time Heeseung didn’t think about the game mechanics or the dialogue options or any of it. He just kissed you back. Your hands slid under his shirt and Heeseung gasped slightly at the sensation, the feeling of your fingers on his skin. It felt real, too real, like impossibly real. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes dark. “Is this okay?” You asked, your hands still under his shirt, warm against his stomach.
action options: > yes > this is more than okay > [pull her closer]
Heeseung picked the third option and pulled you closer, and you made this satisfied sound and kissed him harder. You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, and Heeseung’s brain was trying very hard to process the logistics of what was happening. This was a Nintendo Switch game. This was running on a console made for Pokemon and Mario Kart. There was no way this level of content was actually programmed in here. You smiled and kissed his jaw, then his neck, and Heeseung felt his brain dissolve into static. Your teeth grazed his skin lightly and he made a sound that was probably embarrassing but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
intimate scene progression: 45% | continue? yes / no
current comfort level: high | romantic tension: maximum |achievement unlocked: relationship deepening
The notifications kept appearing in his peripheral vision and Heeseung tried to ignore them because they were extremely distracting and also kind of killing the mood, if a video game could have a mood, which apparently this one could. “Hey,” you said, pulling back to look at him. Your face was flushed and your lips were slightly swollen and you looked devastating. “You’re thinking too hard. I can tell.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
dialogue options: > nothing’s wrong > this feels really intense > i’m just overwhelmed > i keep forgetting this isn’t real
Heeseung wanted to pick the last option but that felt like it would break something, some unspoken rule about the game. So he picked the third one. “I’m just overwhelmed,” he admitted. “In a good way. You’re just really… a lot. In the best way possible.”
You softened at that, your expression shifting from concerned to affectionate. “You’re sweet, you know that?” You kissed his cheek. “We can slow down if you want. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“No, I want this,” Heeseung said, and he did, desperately, even though he knew he probably shouldn’t. “I’m just trying to figure out how this is even possible.”
“How what’s possible?”
“You. This. All of it.” Heeseung knew he wasn’t making sense but the words kept coming anyway. “You feel so real. More real than anything I’ve experienced before. More real than most things I've experienced in actual life, honestly."
You looked at him for a long moment, something unreadable in your expression. Then you said, very quietly, "Maybe that’s because I am real.”
The world glitched. Just for a second, so quick Heeseung almost missed it. The lighting flickered, the textures of the room seemed to shift and resettle, and there was this sound, like static, like interference. You didn’t seem to notice. You were still looking at him with that same expression, waiting for him to respond. error log: reality sync mismatch detected | warning: boundary deviation exceeding normal parameterssystem status: unknown variable introduced
“What do you mean?” Heeseung asked, his voice coming out strained.
“I said maybe I’m real. Maybe this is real. Does it matter?” You touched his face again, gentle. "Does it change anything if I'm real or not real? You’re here, I’m here, this moment exists. Isn’t that enough?”
dialogue options:> yes, that’s enough > no, i need to understand what’s happening >i think something’s wrong with the game > [kiss her to avoid answering]
Heeseung stared at the options, his heart pounding. Part of him wanted to pick the second or third option, wanted to understand what was happening, wanted to figure out why the game was doing things it shouldn’t be able to do. But another part of him, the larger part, just wanted to stop thinking and exist in this moment with you, real or not real, code or person or whatever you were. So he picked the fourth option. His hands moved before his brain could catch up— one sliding to the small of your back, the other cupping your jaw — and he pulled you in, kissing you like the question itself might disappear if he just didn't let go. You made a soft, surprised sound against his lips, but it melted into something needier, as you kissed him back just as fiercely. His hands slid up your thighs, over the soft fabric of your dress, until his fingers found the hem. He tugged lightly, a silent question, and you answered by pressing closer, your body rolling against his in a way that pulled a rough sound from his throat.
action options: > pull her closer > slide hands under her dress > grip her waist and guide her hips > [kiss her neck]
Heeseung didn't even look at the options properly this time. He picked the third one instantly, fingers digging into your waist as he pulled you flush against him, guiding the slow, deliberate grind of your hips. You gasped into his mouth, nails scraping lightly down his chest through his shirt, and the sound you made was needy and it went straight through him. "Heeseung," you breathed, breaking the kiss just enough to look at him. your cheeks were flushed deep, lips swollen and wet, dress riding up slightly from the way you were moving in his lap. "You feel—"
He didn't let you finish. He kissed you deeper, harder, tongue sliding against yours like he needed to taste every part of you. One hand stayed firm on your waist, keeping the rhythm, while the other slipped higher under the hem of your dress, tracing the bare skin of your thigh. You shivered, thighs tightening around his hips, and he felt you press down harder, chasing the friction. You pulled back suddenly, just far enough to grab the bottom of his shirt. Your eyes locked on his, asking. He nodded once, barely, and you tugged it up and over his head in one smooth motion. The second it was gone, your hands were on him again, palms sliding over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of muscle like you were mapping him out. "Better," you whispered, voice rough now, and then your mouth was on his collarbone, kissing down his chest, teeth grazing just enough to make him hiss. Heeseung's head fell back against the couch for a second, eyes squeezing shut, before he surged forward again.
action options: > pull the straps of her dress down > flip her onto the couch > trace her back and pull her even closer > [let her take control]
He picked the third, hands sliding up your back under the thin straps of your dress, fingers splaying wide as he pulled you impossibly closer. Your chest pressed against his, skin on skin now except for the flimsy fabric between you, and he could feel your heart racing just as fast as his. You moaned softly against his neck, hips moving faster, more desperate, and Heeseung matched the rhythm, guiding you with his grip on your waist. Every roll of your body against his made his breath catch, made the heat coil tighter low in his stomach. Your hands were everywhere — his hair, his shoulders, nails dragging down his back— and he was losing it, completely losing it.
action options: > slip the straps down her shoulders > lift the dress over her head > tease the hem higher > [kiss her while undressing her]
He picked the first one, sliding the straps down slowly, watching as the dress loosened and slipped lower, exposing more of your skin. You didn't stop him, instead, you arched your back slightly, helping it along, your eyes locked on his with a look that dared him to keep going. The dress pooled around your waist, and Heeseung's breath caught at the sight of you, bare from the waist up, the soft curve of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "God," he muttered, voice barely audible, and then he leaned in, mouth finding the sensitive spot on your neck. He kissed there first, open mouthed, then grazed his teeth lightly, sucking just enough to leave a faint mark. You tilted your head back, giving him better access, a low moan escaping your lips that vibrated against his skin. Your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, and Heeseung felt that coil of tension wind tighter, his hips bucking up instinctively to meet your rhythm. The friction was maddening, too much and not enough, and he could feel himself hardening against you, the thin layers between you doing nothing to dull the sensation.
intimate scene progression: 92% | arousal level: peak | system warning: immersion threshold breached
A faint static hum buzzed in his ears for a split second, the room's edges blurring like a bad render, but it passed as quickly as it came. You didn't notice, or if you did, you didn't care — your focus was on him, on the way his mouth moved down your neck to your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your face flushed, eyes glassy with want. "Heeseung," you said, voice husky and breathless, "Do you want to take this to the bedroom? We can… get more comfortable."
The action wheel popped up: action options: > carry her to the bedroom > pull her up and walk together > push her down on the couch instead > [deepen the kiss and decide later]
Heeseung picked the first one without a second thought. In one fluid motion, he stood, arms wrapping around your waist to lift you effortlessly. You yelped in surprise, legs wrapping around his hips instinctively. the sudden shift made you cling to him, arms around his neck, and Heeseung kissed you hard as he carried you, tasting the salt on your lips from the heat of the moment. The transition was seamless, the game dissolving the living room around you in that familiar bleed of colors, reforming into your bedroom. Soft lighting from a bedside lamp, sheets rumpled like they'd been waiting, the air thicker somehow. Heeseung lowered you onto the bed gently, following you down, his body covering yours as he settled between your legs. You looked up at him, hands sliding down his chest to his waistband, fingers teasing the edge. "Now where were we?" You whispered, pulling him closer.
Heeseung lowered you onto the bed gently, the mattress dipping under your combined weight as he settled between your legs. Your dress was already bunched high on your thighs, and the air between you crackled with anticipation. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, hands tugging at his waistband, pulling him closer until his hips pressed against yours. The heat of you through the thin fabric was driving him insane — his hands braced on either side of your head, breath ragged as he leaned down to kiss you again, deeper, hungrier.
But just as his fingers brushed the hem of your dress to slide it off completely, everything froze. The world glitched hard; colors inverting for a split second, a low error chime ringing in his ears like a nintendo switch low battery warning. You froze mid motion, lips parted, eyes wide and unblinking, like a paused cutscene. The music cut out. Notifications exploded across his vision in a pop up that took over half the screen:
kink compatibility survey | new content unlock: personalized intimacy | please select preferences to optimize experience (this will not affect main storyline) > time remaining: 30 seconds
Heeseung blinked, staring in horror as a massive form materialized, checkboxes scrolling down like some deranged tinder profile from hell:
His face burning hotter than the tension from seconds ago. "What the fuck is this?" His thumbs mashed the joy cons frantically, heart pounding from equal parts embarrassment and urgency. Thirty seconds? He wasn't even thinking straight — he just spam clicked the safe ones to get it over with. Checkmark on praise kink. Oral focus (both). Dirty talk (why not, he was already losing his mind). Slider cranked to 7 because... yeah. No bondage — keep it simple, game. Vanilla only stayed unchecked because apparently this freakshow had layers.
The pop up vanished with a cheerful ding. You unfroze instantly, blinking like nothing happened, your hands resuming their path down his chest. "Hee?" you murmured, voice soft and teasing, thighs parting wider beneath him. "You okay?"
He swallowed hard, brain still reeling. "Yeah, yeah." You smiled, wicked and knowing somehow, and pulled him down into another kiss. His hands finally obeyed, pushing the dress the rest of the way off your hips, sliding it down your legs until you were bare except for your underwear. The sight of you all spread out hit him. He trailed kisses down your chest, mouth closing over one nipple, sucking gently as you arched into him with a gasp. "You feel perfect," he whispered against your skin, the praise slipping out naturally, and you shivered, fingers threading into his hair. His hand slid lower, between your thighs, fingers brushing over the damp fabric of your underwear. You moaned his name, hips lifting eagerly, and Heeseung pressed harder, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had you writhing. "So wet for me already," he murmured, voice rough with want, testing the dirty talk, and god, it worked, because your breath was hitching beautifully.
You tugged at his pants impatiently. "Off. Now." He obliged in a blur, shedding them along with everything else until there was nothing between you. He hooked his fingers into your underwear, pulling them down slowly, eyes locked on yours as he tossed them aside.
action options: > taste her first > enter her slowly > tease with fingers > [let her guide]
He picked the first, Heeseung's mind was a haze of want and disbelief as he settled between your thighs, your legs parting wider for him like an invitation he couldn't refuse. The sight of you — bare, glistening, so ready —made his mouth water. This is a game, he reminded himself, heart pounding. Just a fucking game. I can do whatever I want. Things I'd never have the guts to try in real life. No judgment, no consequences. Just you, writhing under him, and the freedom to indulge every filthy thought he'd ever buried.
He hooked his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer until his face was buried between your legs. His tongue flicked out experimentally at first, tasting you, sweet and tangy, like nothing he'd imagined, but better. You bucked against him with a sharp gasp, and that sound flipped a switch. Heeseung groaned against you, the vibration making you whimper, and he dove in deeper, tongue flat and broad as he licked a slow, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit. "Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured, voice muffled against your skin, dirty words spilling out because why the hell not? In real life, he'd be too shy, too careful, but here? He could be filthy. "So wet for me already, dripping down my chin. You like that, huh?"
You moaned louder, hands fisting the sheets, then tangling in his hair to pull him closer. "Yes god, Heeseung don't stop." Your voice was wrecked, breathy and desperate, and it fueled him. He sucked your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it in circles, then flicking fast and hard, alternating with long, sloppy licks that had you trembling. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you open, spreading you wider so he could bury his face deeper, nose pressing against you as he devoured you like he was starving.
He picked the fourth mentally, because fuck it, this was his chance to let loose. "Tell me how good it feels," he growled, pulling back just enough to blow cool air over your slick folds, watching you shiver. "Tell me you want my tongue fucking you deeper."
"Please," you gasped, hips grinding up toward his mouth, chasing the contact. "Heeseung, your tongue— fuck, it's so good. Deeper, I need it deeper."
He plunged his tongue inside you, thrusting it in and out, mimicking what he wanted to do with his cock later. His thumb found your clit, rubbing firm circles while he tongue fucked you, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room. You were soaking him, face, chin, and he loved it, lapping it up greedily, humming in approval at how messy it was getting. "You're gonna come on my face, aren't you?" He taunted, voice rough and low, pulling back to suck your clit again, harder this time, teeth grazing just enough to make you cry out. "Do it. Come for me, show me how much you love my mouth on this pretty pussy."
You arched off the bed, a broken moan tearing from your throat as the orgasm hit, waves crashing through you. Heeseung didn't stop, licking you through it, drawing it out until you were oversensitive and twitching, begging him to ease up. only then did he pull away, lips shiny and swollen, grinning up at you with a wicked, satisfied look. "Good girl," he praised, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, though he didn't really want to, part of him liked the mess, the evidence. you were panting, eyes hazy as you reached for him. He crawled back up your body, capturing your lips in a kiss that let you taste yourself on his tongue, another thing he'd never dare in real life, but here it felt right, hot. "You taste yourself? So fucking dirty," he whispered against your mouth, positioning himself at your entrance. "Ready for more?"
"Yes please," you begged, nails digging into his shoulders, your voice a needy whine that made his cock twitch against you. You were so wet, slick from his mouth and your own release, and Heeseung could feel the heat radiating from you, pulling him in. But before he could thrust forward, the game intervened again again:
position selection: customize your intimacy > missionary (classic connection) > doggy style (deeper access) > her on top (let her ride) > against the wall (intense standing) > [spooning (gentle side entry)]
Heeseung stared at the options, a mix of arousal and exasperation flooding him. Jungwon, you pervert, he thought, adding a fucking position menu? He timer was ticking— 15 seconds — and you were frozen mid breath, eyes locked on his with that desperate, submissive Gaze that made him want to wreck you. He picked the third option fast, because fuck, the idea of you riding him, taking control but still under his command? Yeah, that was it. The menu vanished with a satisfied beep, and the scene resumed seamlessly. You blinked, as if nothing happened, but your hands were already pushing at his chest gently, urging him to lie back. "Let me... let me ride you," you murmured, voice soft and obedient, like you were reading his mind, or the game's script. "Please? I want to make you feel good."
Heeseung grinned, dark and dominant, shifting onto his back and pulling you with him until you straddled his hips. His hands gripped your thighs hard, fingers digging in possessively as he looked up at you, flushed, eager, completely at his mercy. "Yeah? You wanna ride my cock like a good girl?" He growled, the words coming easier now, dirtier, because this wasn't real life. No holding back.
You whimpered, hands bracing on his chest, your hips grinding down instinctively against his length, coating him in your wetness. "Please, Hee... I need you inside me so bad. I'll be good."
Fuck, he thought, she's so subby, so perfect. The game's kink sync must've kicked in, amplifying everything — your voice trembling, eyes wide and pleading, body arching like you were made to submit. Heeseung's hands slid up to your hips, guiding you, lifting you just enough to position himself at your entrance. "That's my girl. Sink down on me slow— let me watch you take every inch." You obeyed instantly, lowering yourself onto him, the head of his cock pushing past your folds, stretching you open. It was agonizingly slow, and Heeseung groaned low in his throat, feeling the tight, wet heat envelop him inch by inch. You were so fucking real, hotter than any game should allow, clenching around him like velvet, your walls fluttering as you took him deeper.
"Oh god you're so big," you gasped, head falling back, eyes fluttering shut as you adjusted, a shiver running through you. It felt too real, the stretch, the fullness, the way he throbbed inside you, every vein and ridge pressing against your sensitive spots. Heeseung could feel it all, amplified, like the game had cranked the sensitivity to max. Sweat beaded on his skin, your thighs trembling around him, and for a second, he forgot it was code — this was you, real you, riding him.
intimate scene progression: 98% | dominance level: high | submission sync: optimal | warning: haptic feedback overload
A faint glitch rippled through the air — the lamp flickering, your moan echoing with a digital edge for a heartbeat — but it only made him thrust up harder, hands gripping your ass to pull you down rougher. "Ride me, baby. Bounce on my cock," he commanded, voice gravelly and demanding, slapping your ass lightly to spur you on. "Faster, come on."
You moaned louder, hands on his chest for leverage as you started moving up and down, hips rolling in circles that ground your clit against him. "Like this? Fuck, Heeseung it feels so good— you're so deep." Your voice broke on a whimper, body obeying his every cue, riding him harder, faster, tits bouncing with each thrust.
Heeseung bucked up to meet you, thrusting deep enough to make you cry out, one hand sliding up to wrap around your throat gently. "That's it, take it all. You're mine in here, aren't you? My perfect little girl, creaming all over my cock." You clenched tighter, nodding frantically.
"Yes—fuck, Heeseung, I love it. You're so deep, so big...." Your voice was breathy, submissive, breaking on moans as you submitted completely, body moving exactly how he wanted, faster when he slapped your ass, slower when he pulled you down hard.
action options: > thrust up harder > put a finger in her mouth > choke lightly > [pull her hair]
Heeseung picked the second without hesitation, his thumb tracing your lower lip before pushing it into your mouth. You sucked on it immediately, tongue swirling around it like it was his cock, eyes half lidded and locked on his, so obedient it made his dick twitch inside you. "That's it, suck it like a good girl," he rasped, your wet lips wrapped around his finger, drool starting to drip. "Imagine it's my cock in your mouth while I fuck this tight pussy. You'd take both, wouldn't you?" You moaned around his thumb, sucking harder, hips stuttering as the added sensation pushed you closer to the edge. Then, in the corner of his screen, a new notification flickered: partner preference update: increase roughness? yes / no | affinity: high for dominant play
She likes it rougher? Heeseung thought, a smirk tugging at his lips as he mentally selected yes. Wow, this is way easier than in real life. The game adjusted instantly, your moans turning needier, body arching more desperately as he ramped up the intensity. "You want it rougher, huh?" He taunted, pulling his thumb from your mouth with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting it to your lips. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise — if this were real— and thrust up sharply, slamming into you with more force. "Beg for it then. Tell me how bad you want me to wreck this pussy."
"Please—fuck me harder, Heeseung," you cried out, leaning forward to brace on his shoulders as you rode him faster, chasing the roughness.
intimate scene progression: 99% | climax indicator: approaching for both | options: prolong / climax now / switch position
The bar flashed red in his peripheral, both your arousal meters pulsing near max. He could feel it too, the coil tightening low in his gut, your body starting to tense and shake. But Heeseung wasn't ready to end it. He selected prolong and switch position, flipping the script. He rolled you both over, pulling out just long enough to maneuver you onto your side, spooning behind you. His chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you tight, the other lifting your thigh high. "Not yet," he whispered hot against your ear, nipping the lobe. "Gonna fuck you like this now." You nodded weakly, pushing your ass back against him. Heeseung thrust back in from behind, the angle hitting deeper, his cock dragging against your g-spot with every slow, rough pump. His hand slid between your legs, fingers circling your clit fast and hard, while his other arm pinned you close. "That's my good girl," he growled, pounding into you now, the spooning position letting him grind deep. "Taking it so well." Your moans turned into desperate sobs, body arching back into him.
Heeseung's thrusts were relentless, his cock dragging deep inside you with every slow, powerful snap of his hips. You were a whimpering mess against him, back arched, ass grinding back to meet him as his fingers worked your clit in tight, fast circles. "Fuck you're so tight like this," he growled, teeth grazing your shoulder, leaving a mark that made you shiver.
intimate scene progression: 99.5% | climax indicator: critical for both | options: prolong / climax now / switch position
The meters were flashing urgently now, his own arousal bar teetering on the edge, but Heeseung still wasn't done — he wanted more, wanted to push the limits of this insane game until it broke. One more switch, he thought, selecting prolong and switch position again. The game responded instantly, a soft chime echoing as he pulled out, flipping you onto your stomach with rough hands. You gasped at the sudden movement, face down on the bed, ass up as he positioned himself behind you, knees spreading your thighs wide. "On your stomach, baby— ass up for me," he commanded. He slapped your ass hard, the crack echoing, your skin blooming red under his palm, and you cried out, pushing back eagerly like the subby little thing the game had turned you into. "That's right, take it. You love being fucked like this, don't you?"
You nodded into the sheets, voice muffled and needy. "Yes—god, yes, Heeseung." The game's encouragement popped up in his vision — dominance boost: activated | roughness level: max | achievement: total submission unlocked — and it spurred him on, like the system was egging him to go further, deeper into the filth.
He thrust back in from behind, burying himself to the hilt in one rough stroke, the angle hitting even deeper, making you scream into the pillow. His hands gripped your hips bruisingly, pounding into you with brutal force, skin slapping loud and obscene. "So fucking wet, dripping all over me," he snarled, spanking your ass again, harder this time, alternating cheeks until they were stinging red. You arched higher, offering more, moans turning into sobs of pleasure. He tangled one hand in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your neck, lips brushing your ear as he growled, "look at you, taking my cock like a good girl. Beg for more — tell me how much you need me to ruin this pussy."
"Please—ruin me, Heeseung," you begged, voice breaking. The game flashed more incentives — rough play affinity: 100% | continue for bonus immersion — and Heeseung lost it, spanking you in rhythm with his thrusts, pulling your hair tighter to arch your back, fucking you rougher, faster, the bed shaking under the force. Glitches were hitting harder now, but it only made him thrust deeper, the hyper real sensations overwhelming: the sting of your skin under his palm, the tight ripple of your walls around him, your sweat slicked back against his chest.
intimate scene progression: 99.99% | climax indicator: imminent | warning: system overload detected
He was right there, teetering on the edge, cock throbbing inside you, but you twisted slightly, looking back at him with glassy, desperate eyes. "Heeseung — cum inside me, please," you implored. "Fill me up, I need it."
For a split second, his brain stopped. Wait, cum inside? What if— but then reality (or unreality) hit him comically hard. It's a game, dumbass. Pixels can't get pregnant. He almost laughed mid thrust, the absurdity breaking through the haze, but he shoved it aside, diving back. "Yeah? You want me to breed this tight pussy?" He growled, slamming into you harder, spanking one last time for good measure. "Beg for it louder—"
"Yes—fuck, Hee!" You cried, clenching around him desperately, body trembling on the brink. "Cum inside me, please— breed me, make me yours!" That did it. The climax hit like a wave, crashing over you both at once. Heeseung thrust deep one final time, groaning loud as he spilled inside you, feeling the hot pulse of his release mix with your own orgasm, walls milking him dry. You screamed his name, body convulsing under him, the shared peak amplified by the game — sensations exploding, vision blurring with pleasure and glitches alike.
As your body shuddered through the aftershocks, Heeseung collapsed beside you, pulling you close against his chest with a gentleness that felt worlds away from the roughness just moments ago. His arms wrapped around you protectively, one hand stroking your hair softly, fingers threading through the tangled strands like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. The room was still glitching faintly, but he ignored it, focusing on you, on the way your breaths synced with his, slowing down together.
Heeseung pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then your temple, his voice dropping to a whisper, sweet and caring, laced with concern. "Hey... you okay? I got carried away back there. I'm sorry if I hurt you."
You looked up at him, eyes soft and hazy, a small smile tugging at your lips as you snuggled closer, head resting on his chest. "No, Hee... I liked it. A lot. It was perfect." Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his skin, voice turning playful, like the dynamic lingered just a bit. "You made me feel so good. Don't apologize."
He chuckled quietly, relief washing over him, and he hugged you tighter, hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Good. I just... want to take care of you now." The game prompted options in his vision, soft and glowing: aftercare options: > hold her closer > kiss her gently > whisper sweet nothings > [offer water/snack] -- he picked the third, leaning down to murmur against your ear, "you're amazing, you know that? So beautiful, so perfect for me. I could stay like this forever." You hummed contentedly, body relaxing fully into his, the contrast hitting him. The glitches were fading, but notifications kept pinging: comfort level: maximum | post intimacy glow: active | save progress? yes / no
You shifted slightly, looking up at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. Affectionate, but something deeper, almost knowing. "Heeseung..." your voice was quiet. "See you out there."
He blinked, confusion creasing his brow. "What do you mean?" He sat up a little, heart picking up again, but before you could answer — or before the dialogue wheel could pop up — the world started dissolving. colors bled out, the room flickering violently, static roaring in his ears like a system crash.
Everything went black. Heeseung jolted upright in his chair, the Switch still clutched in his sweaty hands, the screen dark and powered off. His room came into focus: the dim light from his desk lamp, posters on the wall, the faint hum of his pc in the background. His heart was racing, breaths coming fast, and then he felt a sticky, warm mess in his pants, soaking through his boxers. "What the—" he muttered, voice cracking as the full reality sank in. His face burned hotter than ever, cheeks flaming red as he shifted in the gaming chair. He'd actually cum inside his pants. For real. Not just some weird dream or an asleep fantasy — no, full on, pants ruining orgasm from a Nintendo Switch Girlfriend Simulator game. "Holy shit."
Heeseung stared at the dark screen in his hands, the console now completely powered off, innocent looking with its cute joy cons and pastel buttons. It looked so harmless sitting there on his lap, like it hadn't just mind fucked him for hours and then physically fucked him back. He finally set the switch down on his desk, pushing it as far away as the cords allowed. He groaned, dropping his face into his hands.
After cleaning himself up in the bathroom — which involved avoiding eye contact with his own reflection because he couldn't handle the judgment he knew he'd see there — Heeseung collapsed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. His body felt loose and tired in a way that should have been relaxing but instead just made him feel deeply, profoundly embarrassed.
The worst part was that he wanted to do it again. That was what really got him. Not the fact that it happened, but the fact that his brain was already thinking about when he could play next, or well, when he could fuck you next. He felt like a teenager who'd just discovered something he definitely shouldn't have and was now completely obsessed with it.
He'd spent most of his Sunday in his room alternating between staring at his Switch and telling himself he absolutely was not going to play it again, which had been moderately successful except for the part where he'd picked it up four different times before forcing himself to put it back down. So on that week, he started walking across campus toward the engineering building, head down and hoodie up because he felt like everyone could somehow tell what he'd done just by looking at him, when he saw you. You were sitting on one of the benches outside the library with your laptop open, clearly working on something, your hair pulled back and you were wearing an oversized hoodie that had some game logo on it he couldn't quite make out from this distance. Heeseung immediately changed direction.
He took the long way around the building, added an extra five minutes to his walk, and showed up to lecture slightly out of breath. He was very deliberately not thinking about the fact that he'd just actively avoided you. Which was ridiculous. You hadn't done anything, you didn't even know what had happened. You probably hadn't thought about him at all since that day at the library, were probably just sitting there doing homework like a normal person while Heeseung was having a complete psychological breakdown over a video game.
The problem was that every time he thought about you now, his brain immediately supplied images from the game. The way you'd looked at him, the way you moaned, the sounds you'd made, the way you came, the way it had felt so impossibly real that his body had reacted like it was actually happening. And now he couldn't separate that from the real you, the person he'd met at the party who'd been nice and funny and way too easy to talk to. The rest of the week continued like this. He saw you everywhere now, which was ironic because before the party he'd never noticed you once and now you were apparently in every building he entered. Tuesday you were in the coffee shop in the student center. Wednesday you walked past him in the hallway between classes. Thursday he saw you in the library again, this time on the second floor, and he'd actually turned around and walked back out.
His switch was on his desk, fully charged, basically taunting him. He'd managed to avoid playing it all week, had told himself he was being responsible and mature about the whole situation. But he couldn't stop thinking about it. Every time his mind wandered, it went right back to that night, to the game, to you. And his body was betraying him too, which was mortifying. He'd be sitting in lecture and think about the game for half a second and suddenly he'd have to adjust his laptop to hide the fact that he was getting hard in the middle of algorithms class. It happened during study sessions, during meals, during completely random moments when his brain decided to remind him that the game existed and he could play it whenever he wanted.
He felt disgusting. He was kink shaming himself, which he didn't even know was possible, but here he was, lying in bed at two am feeling like a creep for being attracted to a video game character who happened to look exactly like a real person he'd met. But he also couldn't stop thinking about playing again. About whether it would be like the first time or if there were other features, other scenarios. His brain kept supplying possibilities and his body kept responding and he felt trapped in this cycle of shame and want that he didn't know how to break.
And then on friday afternoon, Heeseung was in his dorm trying to focus on an assignment that was due monday when someone knocked on his door with the kind of aggressive persistence that could only be Jungwon. He considered pretending he wasn't home but Jake had already opened the door before Heeseung could say anything. "Oh hey Jungwon," Jake said. "He's here but he's been weird all week so good luck."
"Thanks for the warning," Jungwon said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He went to Heeseung's room and looked at him, who was very deliberately staring at his laptop screen. "Okay, we're going to Five Guys. Get up."
"I'm busy."
"No you're not." Jungwon grabbed Heeseung's hoodie off his chair and threw it at him. "Come on. We're getting burgers and you're going to tell me why you've been ignoring me all week."
"I haven't been ignoring you."
"You answered my texts with one word responses and you've avoided me on campus. That's ignoring me." Jungwon crossed his arms. "So either you come willingly or I'm going to make a scene. Your choice."
Heeseung knew Jungwon well enough to know he absolutely would make a scene. "Fine. But I'm not hungry."
"You're never not hungry. Let's go." And twenty minutes later they were sitting in Five Guys with their orders, the place mostly empty since it was that weird time between lunch and dinner.
Heeseung had been hoping the walk would give him time to figure out what to say to Jungwon, but instead he'd just spent it thinking about the game and feeling more and more uncomfortable. Because the thing was, if Heeseung had done what he'd done in the game, that meant Jungwon had programmed it. Jungwon had sat at his computer and coded in all those options, all those scenarios, all those very specific and detailed features that Heeseung had discovered. Which meant either Jungwon was way more perverted than Heeseung had ever given him credit for, or something else was going on.
"Okay, you're doing it again," Jungwon said, interrupting Heeseung's spiral. "You're being weird and quiet and you won't look at me. What's going on? Is it about the game? Did something break again?"
Heeseung knew he had to say something because this had gone too far. Because if the mature content was intentional, then they needed to have a very different conversation about boundaries and warnings and maybe Jungwon's concerning lack of shame. And if it wasn't intentional, if this was some kind of glitch or malfunction, then that was somehow even worse because it meant the game was doing things beyond anyone's control. Either way, Heeseung couldn't keep avoiding this. Jungwon was his best friend. If he couldn't talk to Jungwon about this, even if it was mortifying, then what was the point of having a best friend? So Heeseung admitted: "Yeah, it's about the game."
"Okay, so tell me." Jungwon looked at him.
"Look, you could've just... you could have warned me that it had adult content." Heeseung forced himself to look at Jungwon. "Like, explicit that I wasn't expecting in a dating simulator."
Jungwon blinked at him. "What?"
"I'm just saying, a heads up would have been nice. I know you're trying to make it realistic but I wasn't prepared for how detailed it was going to get."
"Bro, what are you talking about?"
And then it all came out like Heeseung couldn't stop himself. "I'm talking about the fact that the game has very explicit scenes with very detailed options and I don't know if you've ever actually looked at what you programmed but it's intense, Jungwon. Like the dialogue options were insane, I could say basically anything and the character would respond and some of those options were really freaky. And the action options were even worse, there were so many of them and they were all very specific and very detailed and I'm not going to list them but oh my god and then there was a whole section where it asked me about preferences and kinks and I thought that was just for character building but no, it actually used that information! And there were position suggestions. Position suggestions, Jungwon! With fucking diagrams, man. Why did you add diagrams?! And the whole thing was just very immersive and very realistic and I had a physical reaction that I'm not going to elaborate on but I think you can figure out what I mean and I've been avoiding you all week because I didn't know how to have this conversation without wanting to die of embarrassment."
Heeseung finally stopped to breathe and realized Jungwon was staring at him with an expression of complete bewilderment. "Heeseung," Jungwon said slowly. "I didn't add any of that content."
"What."
"I didn't program explicit scenes. There's no adult content in the game. It's a dating simulator not a porn game. The most intimate it gets is like, hand holding and maybe a kiss at the end if you get the good ending." Jungwon set down his burger. "What are you talking about dude?"
"Don't fuck with me right now."
"I'm not fucking with you, I'm being completely serious." Jungwon was looking at him, shocked. "I didn't add any of that stuff. I wouldn't even know how to program half of what you just described. Like what the fuck is even a kink questionnaire?!"
Heeseung felt cold. "Then how did I experience it, man?!"
"I don't know!" Jungwon was still shocked. "But this actually makes sense now. Y/N's been avoiding me too this week, even more than you have. She won't answer my texts and she literally ran away from me in the hallway yesterday. I thought maybe she was mad at me about something but what if she experienced the same thing you did?"
"What do you mean?"
"Okay, last Friday, remember when you were studying in the library and Y/N left suddenly? I texted her right after she left asking if she wanted to try the updated version of the game and she texted back immediately saying yes and that she was coming to get it right then." Heeseung remembered that day, your phone had buzzed and you'd looked at it and your whole expression had changed, you'd packed up your stuff so fast, muttering something about being late for class even though Heeseung was pretty sure you didn't have class at that time. "She took the game and left," Jungwon continued. "I didn't hear from her after that until she texted me the next day saying she was returning it and that she didn't want to play anymore. And now she won't talk to me."
"What time did she take the game?" Heeseung asked, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.
"I don't know, maybe around four? Four thirty?" Jungwon paused. "Why?"
Heeseung felt like the world was tilting. "I picked up the game from you around four forty five. Remember?"
"Yeah, so?"
"So we both had the game that night. We both played it that same night." Heeseung's mind was racing, putting pieces together. "And you're saying there's no adult content programmed into the game. But we both experienced something intense enough that we're both avoiding you. And we both played it at the same time."
Jungwon's eyes widened. "Oh my god."
"What if—" Heeseung stopped, because what he was about to say sounded insane. But everything about this situation was insane. "What if the game connected us somehow? What if when we both played it at the same time and it put us in the same… I don't know, session?"
"That's not possible because I didn't program any multiplayer features."
"You also didn't program explicit content but I definitely experienced it, man!" Heeseung put his head in his hands. "Jungwon, the character in my game looked exactly like Y/N, exactly like her. And you said the character customization was random."
"It is random. I didn't—" Jungwon stopped. "Wait. She actually said something similar. When she gave the game back she mentioned that the boyfriend character looked really realistic, like someone she could actually know."
Heeseung felt like throwing up. "Did she say who?"
"No, she just said it freaked her out how real he seemed."
Heeseung was pale now. His brain was doing that thing where it tried to process too much information at once and ended up just kind of spinning in place. You had played the game, you had seen a character that probably looked like him. You had found it so realistic it freaked you out. And then you'd played it again last friday, the same day he did, probably around the same time. And Jungwon was sitting here swearing he hadn't programmed any of the content that Heeseung had definitely experienced. Which meant one of two things: either Jungwon was full of shit, which didn't make sense because why would he lie about this, or the game had somehow done something it wasn't supposed to do. Connected two players who didn't know they were playing together, made them interact without telling them, let them do things with each other while both of them thought they were just playing a single player game with really good immersion.
And if that was true, if you'd actually been playing together, then the character Heeseung had been with wasn't just some algorithm. It was you, making choices and responding to him. Doing all those things that he'd been replaying in his head all week. Which meant you'd been doing those things with him, or with a version of him, and you probably had no idea it was real either. So Heeseung stood up so fast his chair scraped against the floor. "What's Y/N's dorm?"
Jungwon blinked at him. "What?"
"Her dorm. Which building is she in?"
"Uh, west campus. Building C, I think? Room 304, why?"
"I gotta go." Heeseung was already grabbing his hoodie.
"Ho where? Heeseung, what—" but Heeseung was already walking, he heard Jungwon call after him something about texting him later but he wasn't really listening. His mind was too busy spiraling through everything he needed to say to you, everything he needed to ask, everything that didn't make sense.
The walk to west campus took fifteen minutes but it felt both longer and shorter than that. Heeseung's hands were shaking and he shoved them in his pockets. He tried to figure out what he was going to say. Hey, so I think we accidentally had virtual sex through a Nintendo Switch last week and neither of us knew it was real. Yeah, that would go over great. Or maybe, hi, remember how we both played that game? Turns out we were playing together. Surprise! Yeah, also worse.
By the time he got to building C, he still hadn't figured it out. Heeseung stood outside the door and realized he couldn't actually get in without a key card or someone letting him in. He was standing there trying to figure out his next move when the door opened and two girls walked out, laughing about something on one of their phones. Heeseung caught the door before it closed and slipped inside. Probably not his finest moment in terms of dorm security, but he was past caring about minor rule violations.
He stood in front of your door for a solid thirty seconds, hand raised to knock, unable to make himself actually do it. This was insane, he was insane. He should turn around and leave and text Jungwon and let Jungwon handle this because Jungwon had made the game and this was technically his responsibility. But he didn't leave, he knocked. And nothing happened for a long moment. Heeseung was starting to think maybe you weren't home, or maybe you were home but ignoring the door, when he heard movement from inside. Footsteps and then a pause. Then your voice, muffled through the door.
"Who is it?"
Heeseung's mouth was dry. "It's Heeseung."
Another pause, longer this time. He could picture you on the other side of the door, probably frozen, probably panicking, probably wondering why the hell he was at your dorm right now. Then the lock turned and you opened the door. You were pale, like actually pale, but you smiled anyway. "Hi Hee. Is… everything alright?"
Heeseung looked at you. You were in pajamas, soft looking sweatpants and an oversized hoodie with some faded band logo on it. Your hair was up in a bun that was more mess than anything else, strands falling out around your face, no makeup. You were standing there at your door at five pm on a friday looking comfortable and real and so pretty it made his chest hurt. He knew he was down bad already. Had been since the game, since the party, since the moment you'd turned around in that park with a flower behind your ear that he'd picked for you except it hadn't actually been you, or maybe it had been, he didn't even know anymore. But looking at you now, in your actual dorm with your actual face and your actual voice saying his name like that, soft and a little worried, he realized the game version hadn't even come close. This was better because this was real.
"Well, yeah, I mean, technically no," he said. Then stopped. "I mean yes. I mean, I need to ask you something and I don't want to sound crazy but I'm probably going to sound crazy anyway so I don't know how to do this without sounding crazy."
Your expression shifted. Something in your eyes changed, like you knew exactly what he was going to say but didn't want to believe it. You stepped back and pulled the door open wider. "Come in."
Heeseung walked into your dorm and tried not to look around but he couldn't help it. The space was small but you'd made it yours, there was a Janna poster on the wall near your desk, the star guardian skin, same one you had on your phone case. Next to it was a persona 5 royal poster that looked like it had been put up carefully. Your Switch was sitting on your desk next to your laptop, the joy cons that soft pink and blue that came with the Animal Crossing edition. Your bed was unmade, blankets pushed to one side like you'd gotten up in a hurry. There were books stacked on your nightstand, a pair of headphones tangled on top of them. A stuffed cat that looked old and well loved sitting on your pillow. It was so much like the apartment in the game that Heeseung felt dizzy. The colors, the vibe, the way things were organized. But also different and better because it was lived in and messy in ways the game couldn't replicate.
"Do you want water or something?" You were standing by your mini fridge, hand on the door, looking at him with that same careful expression.
And then Heeseung opened his mouth and everything just came out.
"Jungwon gave me this game to test Called Girlfriend simulator and I thought it was stupid, like, the most desperate thing I could possibly do, like an actual certificate that I'm way too single for a guy my age. But I played it anyway because I can't say no to Jungwon and also because I was curious and I went on this date with this girl and she liked League of Legends and I had to pick this flower that was glowing and she loved it, and this firefly landed on her hand and she smiled at me like and then we played league together and destroyed her ex boyfriends, and we cooked pasta and she helped me because I was burning the garlic and the game kept giving me dialogue options but then I started just talking and it kept responding like it knew what I was going to say. And then things got really intimate, like really intimate, in ways I'm not going to describe because I'll die of embarrassment but you can probably guess what I mean. And the girl, she... she looked exactly like you. Not kind of like you, exactly like you. same face, same voice, same everything. and i talked to jungwon today And he said there's no adult content in the game, that he never programmed any of that, and that you played it too, last friday on the same night I did. And I think we were playing together and I think we were in the same game, in the same session or server or whatever, and I think the characters we were playing with weren't just game characters and I think they were each other. So I need you to tell me right now, does the boyfriend character in your game look like me?"
You were staring at him. Your hand was still on the mini fridge door but you weren't moving. Your face had gone from pale to flushed and your mouth was slightly open like you wanted to say something but couldn't figure out what. Heeseung's heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat and his hands were shaking and he'd just word vomited the entire situation at you without taking a single breath but he couldn't take it back now. You closed the mini fridge. Didn't get water, just stood there looking at him like you were seeing him for the first time. Your eyes were moving across his face, his hair, his shoulders, like you were checking something or maybe confirming something.
"Yes," you said finally. Your voice came out rough, barely above a whisper.
The word hung in the air between you. Heeseung felt something in his chest crack open, something between relief and panic and a feeling he didn't have a name for.
"Yes he looks like you," you continued, louder now. "Exactly like you and I thought I was going crazy and I thought Jungwon had somehow used photos of you without telling me, or that I was seeing patterns that weren't there, or that I'd just completely lost my mind. But it was you."
Heeseung took a step closer without meaning to. "You played it last friday."
"Yes."
"Around six thirty."
"Yes."
"And things got—" he stopped, couldn't say it.
"Intense." You finished for him. Your face was completely red now.
"So it was real." Heeseung's voice sounded strange. "We were playing together. We were with each other and we didn't know it."
You were breathing faster now. He could see your chest rising and falling under your hoodie. "So when I— when we—"
"Yeah." The room got quiet after that. You looked at him and he looked back and there it was again, that pull from the game, except now there was no screen between you. Just him standing in your dorm with his messy hair and that hoodie you'd seen in the character creator, and you knowing exactly how his hands felt even though you'd never actually touched him before. Your breath caught. His did it too, you saw his chest hitch. Neither of you said anything, you both just moved, like someone had pressed play at the same time. He leaned in, you tilted up, and your mouths met in the middle.
You kissed at the same time.
His mind was racing: this is real, this is actually happening. No reset button, no save file, and he could not stop it even if he tried. Your lips were soft and moving against his in a way that made his hands come out of his pockets and find your waist, pulling you in a bit. You felt his fingers press into the fabric of your hoodie, and you responded by sliding your hands up to his shoulders, gripping the soft material there.
The kiss deepened, his tongue brushed yours lightly, exploratory, and you leaned into it, your back arching off the mini fridge as he stepped closer, bodies pressing together now. A small sound escaped you, not a moan exactly, but something involuntary, and Heeseung reacted by tilting his head more, his hand moving up your back under the hoodie, fingers splaying against your skin, warm and calloused a little. His hands shook a little on your hips, and thank god there were no pop up flashing with options like "kiss deeper" or "pull away," and no dialogue tree to pick from.
You broke for air just a second, foreheads touching, both of you breathing hard. "this is way better than the game," he muttered, voice low and rough, with a tiny grin pulling at his lips.
You huffed a laugh, your hands still on his shoulders. "Shut up."
You pulled him back in before he could say anything else. This kiss was different, harder, more sure. Your teeth caught his bottom lip and he made a noise he'd be embarrassed about later. His hand came up to your face, thumb against your cheek. Your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged and he pressed you back against the fridge hard enough that the door rattled. He kissed down your jaw, taking his time, and you tilted your head to give him room. Your breathing was coming in short bursts. He got to your neck and stayed there, face buried against your skin, breathing you in. You made a sound that kinda sounded like a purr and that did something in him. In his head, he was scrambling, piecing together bits from the game, like the survey thing, where things got rough, when he knew you liked it rough. But now? No way, he wanted this slow, careful, the way you deserved. He slowed his kisses on your neck, his thumb tracing small circles on your side under the hoodie. Don't rush, idiot, his brain nagged, you're not on a timer here.
He pulled back just a bit, forehead against yours, and said, "Sorry, this was kinda... out of nowhere."
You shook your head, still trying to catch your breath. "It wasn't."
He looked at your mouth, then back up to your eyes. "If this is weird for you though. With everything. I can stop."
"No." You said it fast, then quieter. "I want this."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." you paused, then added quieter, "I haven't stopped thinking about it. Or… you. I can't stop thinking about you."
His brain glitched hard at that. wWait, she what? Holy shit, okay, don't screw this up. And he leaned in again, kissing you deeper now, hands sliding up your back, pulling you flush against him. He nipped at your lip, testing, as things heated back up, his pulse loud in his ears. You pushed him back gently, hands on his chest, guiding him across the room step by step until his back hit the wall with a soft thud. The kiss turned messy then, tongues clashing, breaths mixing in quick gasps, neither of you holding back anymore. Your lips moved to his jaw, nipping lightly, then down to his neck, sucking at the skin there.
He let out an uncontrolled whine, his hands tightening on your hips. That sound made you bolder, so you slipped one hand under his hoodie, fingers tracing the warm skin of his stomach, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. You pulled back up to kiss him again, fast and urgent, teeth grazing his lip. He bent his knees a bit, hands sliding down to your thighs, and lifted you up in one smooth motion. Your legs wrapped around his torso automatically, and he spun you around, pressing your back against the wall now. No action option popped up in his head, no prompt telling him what to do next — he'd done it all on instinct, and that made a quick flash of pride hit him, like he was finally off script, just going with it.
Between kisses, you murmured against his mouth, "Hee, you feel so good."
"You too, god" he breathed back, voice rough. He pressed in closer, his body flush against yours, the bulge in his pants obvious now between your legs. You let out a quiet moan, your head tipping back against the wall. He kept you pinned there against the wall, his hips rolling slow against yours in a rhythm that matched your breaths, each grind pulling a small gasp from you. His hands slid up under your hoodie, fingers spreading wide over your ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of your bra as he kissed you deeper, tongue sweeping in like he couldn't get enough. You arched into his touch and nipped at his earlobe, then soothed it with your tongue. He shivered, a low groan escaping him, and you felt him harden more against you, the friction sending sparks up your spine.
He lowered you slowly to the floor, knees bending as he guided you toward the bed, never breaking the kiss. You tugged at his hoodie, pulling it over his head in one messy motion, his hair falling wild as it came off. His skin was warm, flushed, and you ran your hands over his chest, thumbs circling his nipples until they peaked under your touch. He laughed softly, a little breathless, as he peeled your hoodie off next, tossing it aside. His fingers traced the strap of your bra, slipping it down your shoulder before leaning in to kiss the exposed skin.
You pushed him back onto the bed, climbing onto his lap, your thighs straddling his as you ground down slowly, feeling his erection press right where you needed it. His hands gripped your hips, guiding the motion. As his fingers worked the clasp of your bra, letting it fall away, Heeseung's mind clicked into place: this was infinitely better than any simulator. In the game it was all presets, like surveys and options that guessed at what you liked, scripted responses that felt good but flat. Here, he could watch your reactions for real, feel the way your body tensed or relaxed under his hands, discover the spots that made you squirm without a pop up telling him what to do. No algorithms dictating the pace; just trial and error, his lips on your skin, learning from every shiver, every moan. Why settle for a program when he could map you out himself, piece by piece?
Things picked up then, his mouth closing over one of your nipples, tongue flicking slow at first, then sucking harder when you arched into it, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Hee, yes— like that," you breathed, grinding down firmer, the wet heat between your legs soaking through against his sweatpants. He switched sides, hand cupping the other breast, thumb rolling over the peak. He helped you take your sweatpants off, and then his free hand slipped between you, fingers pressing over your clit through your panties, rubbing in tight circles that had you moaning louder, hips bucking. You reached down, palming him through his pants, feeling the outline of his cock twitch under your hand. "You're so hard already," you said, squeezing gently, watching his face contort. He thrust up into your touch, a whine slipping out as he pulled you in for another kiss, messy and deep.
His fingers dipped under your waistband now, sliding through your slick folds, one dipping inside you slow, curling just right. "So wet, fuck," he whispered, adding another finger, pumping steadily as his thumb found your clit again. You rocked against his hand, breaths coming faster, and tugged at his sweatpants, freeing him enough to wrap your fingers around his length, stroking slow from base to tip, thumb swiping over the precum beading there. He bucked into your grip, groaning into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. "Keep going," he panted, fingers speeding up inside you, hitting that spot that made your toes curl.
You sped up your strokes, matching his rhythm, the slick sound of your hand on him mixing with the wet push of his fingers in you. He dropped his head to your shoulder, mouthing at your neck, teeth grazing skin as his free hand gripped your thigh hard enough to leave marks. You rolled your palm over the head on every upstroke, spreading the precum down his length, and he thrust into your fist harder, a low whine catching in his throat. His hips stuttered, thrusts into your hand getting erratic, and you felt him swell thicker against your palm. Suddenly he grabbed your wrist, stopping your movement, chest heaving. "I can't— fuck— I'll cum so fast like this."
"Yeah," you breathed, nodding quick, "Fuck, okay." He kissed you hard once more, then pulled his fingers out slow, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean while looking right at you. You bit your lip, heat rushing lower. You shifted back a bit, still catching your breath. "You got a condom?"
"Oh shit," he muttered, eyes widening. He reached down to his sweatpants, still tangled around one thigh from your handjob. And dug into the pocket, fumbling for his wallet. You leaned in, kissing along his neck slow, tongue flicking the spot that made him shiver earlier, just to keep him distracted. He huffed as he finally pulled out the foil packet. He glanced at it, then chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. In the game you didn't need this shit — couldn't exactly knock up pixel pussy.
He tore the packet open with his teeth, rolling it on quick but careful, hand stroking himself once to settle it. Then he nudged you back onto the bed, settling between your legs as you lay on your back. He kicked off the sweatpants fully, nearly tripping when they caught on his ankle, and you both grinned at the awkward shuffle. He hovered over you, one hand bracing by your head, the other guiding himself, tip brushing through your folds once, twice, coating in your wetness. "You okay?" he asked, voice low, eyes locked on yours.
"Yeah, fuck, please," you said, wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling him closer.
He pushed in slow, the head of his cock breaching you first, that initial stretch making him grit his teeth; tight, wet heat wrapping around him like a vice, slick from all the buildup, but still enough resistance that he had to ease forward inch by inch. His breath caught sharp in his throat, eyes squeezing shut for a second as the sensation hit him full force: warm walls fluttering around him, pulling him deeper, the condom dulling it just a bit but not enough to hide how perfectly you fit, how your body gave way but clung at the same time. He bottomed out with a low groan, hips flush against yours, and stayed there, pulsing inside you, the fullness making his thighs tense.
This was miles better than the game. In the sim, it was all smooth, predictable friction, coded to feel good but always a step removed, like jacking off to a video. Here, though, buried deep in you, he felt every twitch, every squeeze of your cunt around his cock, the real heat radiating through him, the way your wetness coated him completely, Making each tiny shift send sparks up his spine. It was messy and raw, just the obscene reality of how soaked you were, how his balls pressed between your thighs, heavy and tight, begging for more. He started moving then, slow pulls back and thrusts in, the wet slap of skin filling the room as he found a rhythm. You arched up to meet him, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red lines he could feel stinging already. "Fuck, you're taking me so well," he muttered, voice wrecked, as he snapped his hips harder once, watching your tits bounce with the impact. He leaned down, mouth latching onto your neck, sucking hard enough to bruise while he ground deep, cock dragging along your walls, hitting spots that made you clench tighter around him.
Your legs tightened around his waist, heels pressing into his back, urging him faster, and he obliged, thrusts turning rougher, the bed creaking under you both. He could hear the squelch each time he buried himself balls-deep, your pussy gripping him. "So fucking wet," he groaned against your skin, one hand sliding down to grab your ass, pulling you onto him harder. You moaned louder, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging as he pounded in, the angle shifting so his pubic bone ground against your clit with every thrust.
He flipped you over suddenly, hands on your hips yanking you up onto all fours, and slid back in from behind in one smooth push, deeper this way, his cock curving just right to make you gasp. He started railing you, skin slapping loud, his balls smacking against you with each brutal thrust. You pushed back against him, meeting every snap, your walls fluttering around him, milking him tighter. He reached around, fingers finding your clit, rubbing messy circles while he fucked you harder.
His mind flashed back to the game then, that kink survey popping up, how you'd picked options that leaned heavy into rough. He wondered if it carried over, if real you craved that edge too. Testing it, he drew back a hand and landed a smack on your ass, not too hard, just enough to sting and make the flesh jiggle under his palm. The sound cracked through the room, sharp over the wet slaps of his thrusts. You moaned low, pushing back harder against him, your pussy clenching tight around his cock like a reflex. That reaction lit him up — okay, she likes it — and he felt bolder, the dom side kicking in without overthinking. "Yeah, you take that so good," he groaned, rubbing the spot he smacked, soothing the heat before landing another, a bit firmer this time, watching your skin pink up.
He kept pounding in, deep and steady, the angle letting him hit that spot inside you that made your knees buckle a little. Reaching forward, he grabbed your wrists, pulling your arms back and pinning them at the small of your back with one hand, your chest dropping lower to the mattress. It arched your ass higher, letting him drive deeper, his free hand gripping your hip hard, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. The restraint made everything tighter, your walls hugging his cock obscenely, slick dripping down his balls with each thrust. "Fuck, I can't take it anymore," he panted, voice breaking as he felt you flutter around him, the build-up coiling tight in his gut.
"Hee—close, I'm so close," you gasped, face pressed into the sheets, hips grinding back desperate now. He picked up the pace, thrusts turning frantic, skin slapping louder, his balls tightening as he railed you harder. "Come on, let go for me, you feel so good clenching like that," he muttered, leaning over you, breath hot on your back. The friction built fast, your moans turning high and broken, and he felt you shatter first, your pussy spasming hard around his cock, milking him in waves, wetness gushing out and coating his thighs. That pushed him over, his hips stuttering as he buried deep one last time, groaning loud as he came, pulsing inside you, the condom catching every thick spurt while your bodies locked together, shaking through it.
You both stayed like that for a minute, chests heaving, sweat cooling on your skin, the room thick with the smell of sex. He was still buried inside you, pulsing faintly with aftershocks, but he didn't want it to end yet. Slowly, he eased out, the condom slick and heavy as he tied it off and dropped it on the floor beside the bed. His hands loosened on your wrists, letting your arms fall forward as you collapsed onto your stomach with a soft groan. He leaned down, lips brushing the small of your back, tasting the salt there, then lower, kissing along the curve where your spine dipped. His teeth grazed the swell of your ass, biting just hard enough to make you twitch, then soothing it with his tongue. You pushed back slightly, thighs parting on instinct, and he took the invitation— hands spreading you open as he dragged his tongue slow from your asshole down to your entrance, lapping up the mess you'd both made. The taste hit him full: tangy, musky, mixed with the latex from the condom and your arousal, thick and real coating his tongue. He groaned into you, diving deeper, tongue pushing inside your pussy, curling to scoop out more, nose buried against you as he ate you out sloppy from behind.
Your hips started rocking back, muffled moans into the pillow, fingers gripping the sheets. He kept going, alternating broad licks up your slit with flicks over your clit, then back to spearing his tongue inside, feeling your walls flutter again. His face was soaked now, chin dripping, lips swollen, as he sucked your clit into his mouth, humming low. You tensed hard, thighs shaking, and came again with a broken cry, pushing back against his face, wetness flooding his mouth as he licked you through it, not stopping until you sagged limp.
He pulled back finally, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand but mostly just smearing it, face shiny and wrecked. He flipped you over gentle, onto your back, and just looked; your cheeks flushed deep red, hair stuck to your forehead, neck and thighs dotted with fresh bruises from his mouth and grip, chest rising fast. You looked completely fucked out, eyes half lidded, lips bitten raw. His gaze dropped to himself: cock half hard again already, hanging heavy, the used condom on the floor bloated with his load, cum visible through the latex. This was nothing like the game. There, everything reset clean, no mess, no lingering taste on his tongue, no actual bruises blooming on skin. Here, he could smell you on his face, feel the ache in his jaw from eating you out, see the evidence of how hard he'd fucked you. Way better. Infinitely better.
He crawled up beside you, collapsing half on top, one leg tangled with yours, hand resting on your stomach as you both caught your breath again. The air was still thick, sheets twisted around your ankles, and Heeseung shifted a little closer, propping his head on one hand to look at you. He picked up your hand, fingers tracing over your knuckles before bringing them to his lips, kissing each one slow, like he was checking they were real. "Hey," he said soft, "was is... good for you?"
You glanced away for a second, cheeks heating up again, then nodded. "Yeah. Really good." Your voice came out quieter than you meant, thumb brushing his wrist. He smiled small, relieved, and pressed another kiss to your fingertips. You swallowed, still coming down, and mumbled, "want some water?"
"Yeah I'll get it," he said quick, already pushing up. He swung his legs off the bed and stood, then paused mid step, one hand going to his lower back with a quiet "Ow—shit." He stretched a bit, wincing. Last time he'd moved like that was... well, in the game and pixels don't pull muscles. He huffed a laugh at himself and shuffled over to the mini fridge, the floor cool under his feet.
He grabbed two bottles, cracked one open for you first, and came back, sitting on the edge of the bed close enough that his knee bumped yours. You sat up a little, taking the water, and he reached out, fingers threading through your messy hair, smoothing it back gently while you drank. His touch was light, almost absent minded, but steady. You lowered the bottle and just looked at him— hair sticking up, lips swollen, a faint red mark on his neck from earlier. You let out a soft laugh, nose scrunching. he raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Hi."
"Hi," you said back, still smiling.
He tilted his head, thumb brushing your cheek. "You need to pee."
You snorted, covering your face with one hand. "Yes, I know." He didn't even hesitate, just slid his arms under you, one behind your back, the other under your knees, and lifted you up like you weighed nothing. You yelped quietly, arms looping around his neck on reflex. "Hee—"
"I got you," he muttered, carrying you across the room to the bathroom door, stepping carefully around the clothes scattered on the floor. He set you down gentle inside, kissed your forehead quick, and pulled the door almost shut behind you. "Take your time." You heard him flop back onto the bed with a dramatic groan, probably rubbing his back again, and couldn't help smiling to yourself in the mirror.
When you came back, he was sitting on the edge of your bed, boxers pulled on, knees apart, elbows resting on his thighs. He looked up as the bathroom door opened and gave you this small, lopsided smile, half awkward, half couldn't-hide-it-if-he-tried glad. His hair was still a mess, sticking up where your fingers had been, and he rubbed the back of his neck like he didn't know where to put his hands now. You walked over and sat next to him, close enough that your thighs touched, the mattress dipping a little under both of you.
For a second neither of you said anything, just the quiet hum of the mini fridge and the faint rustle of sheets when you shifted. He glanced at you sideways. "So... that happened."
You huffed a small laugh, pulling your knees up. "Yeah. It did."
He was quiet for a moment. "Was it—" he stopped, started again. "I don't want you to think that's why I came here. Or that I expected—"
"I know."
"Because we don't really know each other. Like, actually know each other. And I don't want you to feel like this was too much or—"
"Don't we though?"
He looked at you. "What?"
"Know each other." You tucked your hair behind your ear. "I lived all of it with you. In the game."
"Yeah but that wasn't—"
"The date in the park," you said. "You picked that flower for me. The one that was glowing.” Heeseung was very still now, watching you. "And we played League together," you continued. "Destroyed my exes, even though they don't even exist in real life. Also, you were so smug about it, kept emoting after every kill, I thought you were so cute. And then we cooked pasta at my place and you almost burned the garlic and I had to help you and we ended up just—" you stopped, smiled a little. "It felt easy and natural like I'd known you forever. And the dates after that. Like the arcade, that hiking trail." You were looking at your hands now. "And then the park again at night. You told me you were falling for me. I remember it all too well. It was the most real thing that's ever happened to me." You finally looked at him. "And when I met you at the party and realized you were an actual person, I freaked out. Because how was I supposed to deal with the fact that I'd already fallen for you before we'd even met?"
"You—" his voice cracked slightly. "You fell for me?"
"Yeah." You said it simple, like it was obvious. "In the game. I didn't know it was you, but I felt everything. And then when Jungwon texted me about the update, I couldn't — I had to play it again. I had to see you again, even if it was just in the game. I thought it was just the game being really immersive and really realistic and I didn't think you were actually there."
Heeseung let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "I thought the same thing but I couldn't figure out what else it could be."
"And then we both avoided each other for a week." You laughed, dropping your head against his shoulder. "We're idiots."
"Complete idiots." He leaned his head against yours. "But like, in our defense, how were we supposed to know we were accidentally having virtual sex through a Nintendo Switch?"
You snorted, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Please never say that sentence again."
"Which part, the virtual sex or the Nintendo Switch?"
"Both. That whole thing."
He was grinning now. "But it happened."
"Ynfortunately yes."
"And it was—" he stopped.
"Really good," you finished.
He pulled back a little, just enough to look at you, his fingers sliding up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered, thumb brushing your cheek. "Yeah. It was. But this way is better." You smiled, he did too. But then he paused, and said quieter, "We don't have to figure it all out right now, you know. The whole... what this means. But," he swallowed, hand dropping to lace with yours on the sheet. "If you want to. If you're down... I'd really like to try this for real. Like, dates that don't require a Switch cartridge. Real hiking and a real arcade. And the boring real stuff too."
You turned your hand over, squeezing his fingers. "Boring real stuff sounds good."
"Yeah?" His smile went soft, relieved, and he shifted closer, knee bumping yours. His free hand came up to your waist, pulling you gently until you were half in his lap, legs tangled again. He kissed you slow then, nothing rushed, just lips moving soft, his hand splaying warm on your back. You kissed back, fingers threading through the hair at his nape, tugging lightly when he deepened it a bit. He pulled away just enough to breathe, lips still grazing yours. "This okay?"
"More than okay," you murmured, chasing his mouth for another quick kiss. He smiled into it, then another, hand sliding up your spine, thumb tracing lazy lines. You broke apart for air, but stayed close, foreheads together. "So," you said, poking his chest. "First real date. You picking or me?"
"I owe you that glowing flower," he said, fingers playing with your hair. "But like, from an actual field this time."
You laughed softly, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Deal. But you're still helping with the garlic."
He groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the pillow and pulling you with him so you landed half on his chest. "Fine. But no emoting when I burn it."
You settled there, ear over his heartbeat, his arms wrapping loose around you. "We'll see."
And you did see, because you saw him burn garlic three more times over the next month, and you emoted every single time, just to watch him get flustered and defensive about it. And the dates weren't like the game. There were no perfectly timed sunsets or fireflies that landed on cue.
Your first real date was at a diner near campus at two in the afternoon because that's when you both had free time between classes. He ordered pancakes and you stole half of them. The syrup was too sweet and the coffee was burnt and it was perfect anyway. You went to an arcade on a Tuesday night because you both thought it would be funny and all the good machines were broken. Heeseung spent twenty bucks trying to win you a stuffed cat from the claw machine and failed every time, just like the game. You ended up buying one from the prize counter with your own money and he carried it around for the rest of the night looking mildly offended. The hiking trail he took you on wasn't the picturesque mountain path from the game. It was a local trail that was mostly flat and next to a highway. You could hear cars the entire time. He tripped over a root and almost took you down with him. But he held your hand the whole way and pointed out a bird he thought was cool, and when you sat on a bench to rest, he kissed you and it tasted like the granola bars you'd been sharing.
You learned things about him that the game had never shown you. That he was grumpy in the mornings and needed at least ten minutes of silence before he could form coherent sentences. That he had a specific way of organizing his desk and got stressed when things were out of place. That he laughed at his own jokes before he finished telling them and it was the most endearing thing you'd ever seen. Meanwhile, he learned that you talked to yourself when you were concentrating, narrating your own thoughts out loud without realizing it. That you had strong opinions about which anime openings were skippable and which were sacred. That you stress baked at midnight and would show up at his dorm at one am with cookies that were still warm and slightly misshapen.
You played League together and he actually did run it down once and you flamed him for fifteen minutes straight. He took you to his favorite boba place and you hated the drink you ordered but drank it anyway because you didn't want to admit you'd made a mistake. He noticed and switched cups with you without saying anything.
And the domestic stuff was better than any game could've captured: grocery shopping together and arguing about which brand of ramen to buy; him falling asleep on your shoulder during study sessions in the library; you stealing his hoodies and him pretending to be annoyed but leaving them at your place on purpose. The way he'd text you random memes at three am just because he thought you'd find them funny. The way you'd save the last bite of your food for him without thinking about it. It was real and messy and nothing like the perfect dates the game had generated. It was so much better.
Three months in, Jungwon decided he wanted to do a pizza night at his place. Make-your-own-pizza, he'd said. It'll be fun, he'd said. He'd assigned everyone tasks and you and Heeseung got stuck with grocery shopping because apparently you were the only ones who could be trusted not to forget something important. Which is how you ended up in the pasta sauce aisle of the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon, having an increasingly heated debate about pizza sauce. "This one has basil already in it," Heeseung said, holding up a jar.
"But that one's too sweet. We need the plain one so we can add our own seasonings." You grabbed a different jar.
"Nobody's going to taste the difference."
"I'm going to taste the difference!"
"Yeah, that's because ou have the most specific opinions about things that don't matter."
"Excuse me, pizza sauce matters. This is important." He looked at you, standing there in your hoodie and jeans with your hair falling out of your bun, holding a jar of pasta sauce like it was a matter of life and death, and he felt something in his chest shift. You'd been arguing about groceries for ten minutes. Before that it had been flour — he'd grabbed all purpose and you'd insisted on bread flour even though Jungwon probably wouldn't care. You had strong opinions about olive oil brands. You'd spent five minutes reading the labels on different types of cheese. It was so mundane and domestic and real and he was so gone for you it was ridiculous.
Heeseung caught your wrist and pulled you back. You turned, surprised, the jar of sauce still in your hand. "What?" He just looked at you for a second. The fluorescent grocery store lighting was terrible and someone's kid was screaming two aisles over and the store radio was playing a compressed version of some pop song from five years ago. Nothing about this moment was romantic or special or anything like the game would've generated.
"You know," he said, "if this was a cooking game, you'd be picking all the wrong action options right now."
You laughed. "What?"
"The wrong sauce. Insisting on fresh garlic when the jarred stuff is right there. Making this way more complicated than it needs to be." He was smiling now, pulling you closer. "You'd be failing the efficiency route."
"Good thing this isn't a game then."
"Yeah." His other hand came up to your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Good thing." You were looking at him with this soft expression, waiting for whatever he was going to say, and Heeseung realized he'd been waiting for the perfect moment for weeks now. The right time, the right place, the right words. But standing in a grocery store on a random Saturday arguing about pizza sauce felt more right than any perfectly rendered sunset could've been. "I love you," he said.
You went very still. "What?"
"I love you." He said it again, steadier this time. "And I want to finally beat fuck ass Girlfriend Simulator. Make it official."
"Heeseung—"
"I want to complete the Girlfriend Simulator route," he continued, and he was grinning now because he could see you trying not to smile. "Get the good ending. Unlock the girlfriend achievement."
You laughed. "You're such a nerd."
"Yeah, I know. so?" He squeezed your hand. "Will you be my girlfriend? For real this time?"
You set the jar of sauce down on the nearest shelf, not even checking if it was the right spot, and kissed him. Right there in the middle of the grocery store with terrible lighting and screaming children and elevator music playing overhead. His arms came around you and you could feel him smiling against your mouth. When you pulled back, you were both grinning like idiots. "Yes," you said. "Obviously yes.”
And you kissed him. His arms came around you and you could feel him smiling against your mouth. You pulled back just a little, hands sliding up to rest on his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. The kiss turned slower then, softer, your lips brushing his again and again like you couldn't quite stop. He made this quiet hum, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, thumb stroking the skin there while the other stayed firm on your waist, keeping you close. Some lady pushed her cart past you both, wheels squeaking on the linoleum, but neither of you moved.
When you finally broke apart, foreheads still touching, you were both breathing a little harder. "I love you too," you said, voice low but steady. "Obviously. And I'm really glad I beat Boyfriend Simulator."
He laughed soft, nose bumping yours. "Wait." His face went serious all of a sudden, eyes narrowing. "That was the name of your game? Boyfriend Simulator?"
"Yeah." You bit your lip, trying not to grin too big. "Jungwon said it was different from Girlfriend Simulator because this one has a multiplayer option."
He shook his head slow, arms still around you, holding you there in the aisle like he wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon. You both just stood there, wrapped up in each other between the shelves of pasta sauce, carts rumbling by, some kid yelling about cereal in the distance. Heeseung stared at you, processing, then let out this quiet groan, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. "I'm going to kill Yang Jungwon."
You laughed into his hair, fingers threading through it at the nape of his neck. "Get in line."
[GAME COMPLETE] GOOD ENDING UNLOCKED: REAL LIFE ROUTE ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: GIRLFRIEND.EXE NEW GAME+ AVAILABLE: THE REST OF YOUR LIVES
✸request: hello i really love your work. its so satisfying for some reason and i feel so peaceful whenever i read those. so i got a request and i hope thats okay. So imagine you're a fashion designing student and for your assignment you wanted a model and since you cant afford a real model you wanted to go for a uni student (the same uni). And her friends who knew that she had a crush on nicholas the captain of the sports team they encourage her to ask him. and a romance based on that? like she's so introverted and insecure of herself and him slowly healing her and without knowing she's also healing him from the loud world? Anyways its fine if you dont wanna do this one, stay healthy ☺️💗💗💗
✸synopsis: you, an introverted fashion student, convinces the campus sports captain, nicholas, to model for your final project, sparking a slow-burning romance that heals both of your hidden insecurities. through quiet moments, shared vulnerabilities, and gentle patience, you build a world together stitched with trust, tenderness, and unspoken understanding.
✸genre: one-shot, uni/college!au, fluff
✸pairing: wang yixiang x reader / nicholas x reader
✸content warnings: mutual pinning
✸wc: 6.1k
✸an: lower case intended, no use of y/n, fem!reader / this is such a great idea! thank you so much for submitting your request, i hope i did it justice! ٩(◕‿◕)۶
[now playing: you make loving fun — fleetwood mac]
m.list
─────
you should’ve known something was wrong the moment your professor smiled.
not the kind, encouraging smile he gives when someone presents a good sketch. no — the evil, assignment-dropping, career-ending kind of smile.
“your final,” he says, pacing in front of the class like a general preparing to send you into battle, “will be a complete look. garment, styling, presentation… and a live model.”
the class groans. you, specifically, feel your soul leave your body.
a live model.
as in a human. a human you have to recruit. a human you have to ask.
your stomach drops through the floor. your bank account flashes before your eyes — a barren desert with a tiny tumbleweed rolling by. there’s no way you can afford a real model. not even a cheap one. not even a volunteer who works for scraps.
you’re doomed.
the moment class ends, chae-won links her arm through yours like she’s catching a runaway criminal.
“you’re thinking dramatic thoughts,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “don’t lie. your face does that thing where it collapses.”
“it doesn’t collapse,” you mutter.
“it absolutely collapses,” she insists, steering you toward the studio. “but! i know a solution.”
you give her a flat look. “unless it involves someone magically paying my fees—”
“it involves nicholas.”
you stop dead in the hallway. chae-won turns around slowly, smiling like she just dropped the biggest bomb of the century. “why not ask him?”
you sputter. “chae-won. be serious.”
“i am serious,” she says, delighted. “you need a model. he has… you know.” she makes a vague gesture at her entire body. “body.”
you bury your face in your hands. “i can’t ask nicholas. he’s — he’s nicholas.”
the boy you may or may not have accidentally stared at during freshman orientation. once. (maybe twice.) and then definitely avoided for the rest of your academic career.
“nope,” you say. “not happening. i’ll just — i’ll figure something else out.”
chae-won plants herself in front of you like she’s blocking the path to self-sabotage. “you have a crush on him.”
“i do not.”
she lifts her eyebrows.
“…okay, maybe a little.”
“a little?” she snorts. “you turn into a stunned goldfish whenever he breathes in your general direction.”
you groan. “this is the worst day of my life.”
“correction,” she says brightly. “this is the day you take a risk and maybe get a model and a date.”
you blink at her with a disbelieving scoff. “you think nicholas wang is going to date me?”
“i think,” she says, linking arms with you again, “that you underestimate how adorable you are and overestimate how terrifying he is.” then she adds, quietly, “but also… you need to believe you deserve help sometimes.”
that part hits a little too close, so you pretend not to hear it.
back at the studio, you stare at your sketches, fingers trembling. the ideas are solid — maybe even good. but none of it matters without a model.
and you can’t stop hearing your professor’s voice echo in your head.
a live model.
you look down at your phone. nicholas’s name sits innocently in the student directory.
chae-won watches you from across the table, arms crossed, foot tapping. “do it. text him.”
“i can’t.”
“you can.”
you take a breath. you don’t text him. instead, you close your eyes, press your palms to your warm face, and whisper, “…i’ll ask him. tomorrow.”
chae-won squeals so loudly, half the studio jumps. “yes! character development!”
you groan again — louder this time — because tomorrow suddenly feels like a death sentence.
but somewhere beneath the dread, deep in the quiet part of your chest… a tiny spark flickers. hope. terror. possibility.
and because life has a sense of humor, tomorrow is coming fast.
─────
you try every excuse in the world.
you tell chae-won you’re sick. she hands you a cough drop.
you tell her you’re too busy. she reminds you the deadline is two weeks away.
you tell her you can’t feel your legs. she grabs your wrist and starts pulling you down the hallway.
“come on,” she whines dramatically, heels clicking. “if i let you run away now, i’m failing as a friend and as a woman of romance.”
“this isn’t romance,” you hiss, stumbling after her.
“it could be,” she sings.
eventually, it’s not just her dragging you — two more friends join in. you don’t even remember agreeing to this intervention. one moment you’re in the studio, the next your entire support group has formed a physical and emotional blockade that marches you across campus toward the athletics building.
by the time you reach the double doors, your palms are sweating, your heart is tap-dancing in your throat, and your soul is halfway to the afterlife.
“i can’t do this,” you whisper.
chae-won tightens her grip on your shoulders from behind. “yes, you can. and if you try to run, i will tackle you. emotionally and physically.”
you roll your eyes, but your knees are shaking so hard, you’re grateful for her hand at your back.
the smell hits you first — gym rubber, fresh turf, the faint metallic tang of weights. it’s cool inside, echoey, too quiet. practice must be over.
you peek around the corner of the hallway that leads to the indoor field. and there he is.
nicholas.
alone.
he’s kneeling, stretching his hamstring with one hand braced on the ground. sweat dampens the ends of his hair, sticking to his forehead. his lips are parted slightly as he breathes, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. he looks… soft in a way you’ve never seen before — not the loud, adored captain everyone sees in public. more human. more tired. more real.
your breath catches.
“go,” chae-won whispers, giving you a sharp nudge.
you stumble forward and immediately want to evaporate. nicholas hears the sound of your shoe squeaking and looks up.
his eyes are warm brown, a little curious, a little surprised. he wipes his forehead with the back of his arm but doesn’t stand yet.
“oh,” he says, breath still steadying. “hey.”
you freeze. completely. like a mouse caught in the world’s gentlest spotlight.
“hi,” you squeak. god. horrible.
he stands slowly, stretching his back, rolling his shoulders. the movement is fluid, practiced — athletic. but he softens his posture when he faces you, like he’s trying not to intimidate you.
“what’s up?” he asks, grabbing his water bottle.
your mind goes blank. blank like a wiped hard drive. blank like a fresh page. blank like you’ve never spoken to another human before.
“i — uh — project,” you blurt.
he blinks. “project?”
you nod too many times. perfect. you’re malfunctioning.
“it’s for my fashion design class,” you manage. “my final project. i, um… i need a model. a real one. and i don’t— i can’t— i mean, i was wondering if — if maybe… you might consider… if you’re not too busy or—”
your voice shakes. your fingers shake. your entire body is basically a vibrating phone.
nicholas straightens a little. not taller — just more attentive.
he looks at you. really looks. not like he’s confused or amused, but like he’s trying to understand you. his eyes move from your face to your hands and back again, quietly registering the nerves you’re failing miserably to hide.
then he smiles.
not the big, confident one he gives crowds. a small one. soft. almost shy.
“okay,” he says simply. “i’ll do it.”
you stop breathing.
he takes a sip of water, like he didn’t just shatter your internal universe.
“when do you need me?” he adds.
you blink. twice. you stare at him like you’re trying to decode a foreign language.
“you’ll… do it?” you whisper.
“yeah.” he tilts his head slightly, a strand of damp hair falling over his forehead. “just tell me when to show up.”
you’re convinced you’re hallucinating. maybe you fainted. maybe this is a stress dream. maybe nicholas is actually a figment of mass campus delusion.
“are — are you sure?” you ask.
he gives a tiny laugh under his breath. “if i wasn’t, i wouldn’t have said yes.”
he throws his towel over his shoulder and gestures lightly toward the hallway. “walk with me? it’s freezing in here.”
you nod numbly. you’re pretty sure your feet move, but you feel nothing.
you walk beside him as he chats casually — asking what your project is about, what kind of pieces you’ve been making this semester, even complimenting the tote bag you customized.
you barely keep up.
by the time you reach the entrance, the others are gone — thankfully — and nicholas is pushing the door open for you.
“so,” he says, leaning slightly against the frame, “send me the details later?”
you swallow hard. “yes. i mean — yeah. i will.”
he gives you another one of those small, soft smiles. “looking forward to it.”
and he walks away.
you stand there. frozen. speechless. brain completely empty except for one overwhelming thought. there is no way that just happened.
and yet… it did.
nicholas wang agreed to model for you.
and for the first time in days, maybe weeks, your chest doesn’t feel tight. for the first time, you feel something else quietly bloom inside you. ambition.
─────
you spend the entire morning cleaning the design studio.
it doesn’t need cleaning — at least not to the degree you’re doing it — but anxiety demands ritual, and apparently today’s ritual involves rearranging fabric bolts by color, refolding muslin, and lint-rolling a mannequin.
you smooth your hair. check the time. smooth your hair again. check the time again.
he won’t come, you tell yourself. he’s busy. he’ll forget. he’ll change his mind. you’ll get a text apologizing, saying something came up —
a knock echoes through the open doorway.
you jump, nearly stabbing yourself with a pin.
nicholas stands there with one hand resting lightly on the door frame, gym bag slung over his shoulder, hair slightly damp like he just showered. he’s wearing a dark sweatshirt and joggers, casual but somehow cinematic.
“hey,” he says, voice soft. “am i early?”
you look at the clock. he’s exactly on time.
“no—! no, you’re perfect—i mean, it’s perfect. the timing. not you. i mean — you are — but — i —”
you want to curl into a ball and roll under the nearest sewing machine.
nicholas bites back a smile, stepping inside. “i gotcha. good timing.”
you nod so hard, your hair moves.
he drops his bag to the side and looks around the studio like he’s entering a different world — curious eyes scanning the racks, the sketches pinned to the walls, the chaos of fabric and thread.
“this is… really cool,” he says, sincere awe in his voice.
that throws you off. most people glance at your workspace and see “mess.” nicholas sees something else.
“thanks,” you murmur, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.
you show him the garment — the early draft of the piece he’ll be modeling — and as you speak, you feel yourself shrinking, making yourself small out of habit.
“so, um… this is rough. like, very rough. i’m sorry it’s not — i didn’t have time to — i should’ve finished the collar —”
“hey,” nicholas interrupts gently. “you don’t have to apologize.”
you freeze. he says it casually, but his tone is warm, steady. reassuring in a way you’re not used to.
you swallow. “sorry. i —”
you stop, catching yourself. nicholas’s eyes soften.
he steps closer, but not too close — just enough that you feel the warmth of him.
“can i look?” he asks, nodding toward the garment.
you hand it over with shaking hands. he studies it seriously, not pretending to understand fashion, not faking enthusiasm — actually absorbing the details.
“you made all this?” he asks.
“yeah.”
his brow lifts. “it’s really impressive.”
your brain short-circuits again.
he shrugs a little when he sees your expression, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “i mean it.”
you turn away, pretending to fix a pin cushion just to hide how flustered you are.
as he changes into the piece behind a makeshift curtain, you try to breathe. you try to remember how measuring tape works. you try not to imagine his shoulders or his collarbones or anything at all, actually.
when he steps out wearing your garment — even half-finished — something inside you flips over.
he looks… good. strong lines softened by fabric you draped yourself. effortless. like the design was made for him.
“okay,” he says. “what do you need me to do?”
you move around him, adjusting the seams, pinning loose fabric. every time your fingers brush his arm or shoulder, you feel his breath catch just slightly. not enough to embarrass either of you — just enough to make your heart do dangerous things.
then it happens.
a sudden slam from the hallway — someone dropping a box outside.
nicholas flinches. not big, not dramatic — but noticeable. barely a twitch of his shoulders, a tightness around his eyes. like he’s so used to noise, yet worn thin by it.
you look up. he tries to cover it with a practiced smile.
“you okay?” you ask quietly.
he nods, a little too quick. “just… tired.”
you don’t push — but the way he says it lingers.
you see it now, clearer than before — the exhaustion carved into the corners of his eyes, the tightness in his posture, the heaviness beneath the charming exterior everyone loves so much.
he watches you too — really watches — when you wince after pricking your finger on a pin, when you overthink every movement, when your voice stays small even though you’re in your own workspace.
“does that hurt?” he asks when he notices the tiny bead of blood on your fingertip.
“no, it’s fine,” you whisper, wiping it away.
he frowns, not convinced.
you both return to your tasks in a quiet that feels strangely… comfortable.
every time you adjust a seam, he steadies himself so you don’t have to reach. every time you hesitate, he steps back in sync with your rhythm. every time you start to apologize, he gives a tiny shake of his head, almost imperceptible, a silent you don’t have to.
by the time the fitting ends, something has shifted — small, fragile, impossible to name. nicholas hands the garment back carefully, like it’s something delicate. something valuable.
“thanks,” he says, voice softer now. “for letting me help.”
you blink, surprised. “i should be thanking you.”
he smiles again — that small, real one — and lifts his bag. “same time next week?”
“yeah,” you breathe.
he walks toward the door, then pauses, glancing back at you. “i had a good time.”
you don’t know what to say. you barely remember how breathing works. and yet, somehow, you whisper back, “me too.”
nicholas leaves, and the studio feels different — warmer, fuller, as if something sacred just happened.
a tiny crack. a tiny opening. the beginning of something neither of you can name yet.
─────
you don’t expect him to come back.
even though he said he would. even though he’d smiled like he meant it. even though part of you — small and trembling — wants to believe him.
people don’t usually stay, not when they get a glimpse of how anxious you are, how easily spooked you become, how quickly you fold yourself into the corners of a room.
so all week, you prepare yourself for him not showing up. you rehearse excuses in your head — it’s fine, I get it, he’s busy, why would someone like him make time for someone like you?
but then the door to the studio creaks open right on time. and there he is. wearing a hoodie, hair slightly messy from the weather outside, holding two drinks — one iced, one hot — like he wasn’t sure which you’d prefer.
his eyes land on you, and his whole face softens.
“hey,” he says. “i, uh… guessed you might like something sweet?”
your heart stops.
he sets the drinks on your workstation, a little shy, like he’s not used to doing small, thoughtful things for people outside his team or friend circle.
you stare at the drinks, at him, back at the drinks.
“i… thank you,” you whisper.
“you don’t have to drink it,” he adds quickly. “i just — you seemed nervous last time, so i thought maybe — never mind.”
he’s rambling. nicholas wang is rambling.
you take the drink before he can overthink it further. “no, i… i really appreciate it.”
his shoulders relax.
the fitting starts the same as last time — him slipping behind the curtain, you pretending to reorganize markers to hide how flustered you are — but the air feels different.
he talks more now. not loudly. not performatively. just… easily.
“practice has been brutal this week,” he says as he steps out in the garment. “coach wants us ready for the championship, but honestly? i think half the team’s already halfway to burnout.”
you adjust the hem lightly, nodding. “you seem tired.”
he chuckles under his breath. “everyone seems to think that lately.”
you glance up. “are they wrong?”
he opens his mouth, then closes it. his expression shifts — defenses pulling tight, then slowly loosening again as he exhales.
“…no,” he admits. “i don’t think they are.”
it’s the first real crack. the first moment where he lets you see behind the bright, perfect captain mask.
he sits on the edge of your worktable as you pin fabric along his sleeve, fingers steadying the cloth.
“i get overwhelmed,” he says quietly. “people think i like attention. the noise. the pressure. all those cameras during games? it’s… it’s a lot.”
you pause, stunned he’s telling you any of this. most people would kill to hear their campus golden boy open up like this. but here he is, offering the truth like it’s something fragile.
you swallow. “you don’t have to pretend with me.”
he looks at you then — really looks — like the thought had never occurred to him before.
“…yeah,” he murmurs. “i’m starting to get that.”
the silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable. it’s warm. shared. steady.
as you move around him, measuring and pinning, his eyes follow you — not in a heavy, intense way, but in a gentle, attentive way. like he’s memorizing how you move, how you focus when you’re working.
but he sees your cracks too.
when you flinch at a sudden noise from the hallway. when you automatically shrink your posture after giving a suggestion. when you start to apologize for the third time before catching yourself.
“you do that a lot,” he says softly.
“do what?”
“disappear,” he says, almost whispering. “like you’re scared to take space.”
you freeze. his voice is gentle, not accusing. not judging. just… noticing.
you clear your throat nervously. “i’m not— i just don’t want to be annoying.”
nicholas shakes his head slowly. “you’re not annoying.”
his tone is firm. certain. like he means every word and then some.
“you’re not invisible either,” he adds. and it hits you deeper than you expect.
you focus on the stitches, trying to hide the warm sting in your eyes.
he doesn't push. he simply waits — present, patient — in a way that makes your chest ache. when the fitting ends, nicholas changes and comes back out holding the garment gently in his arms. he sets it on the mannequin, then turns to you with a small, sincere smile.
“i like being here,” he says. “it’s… quiet. in a good way.”
your breath catches. “you don’t have to say that just to be nice.”
“i’m not,” he answers immediately. “i meant it.”
you can tell. you feel it.
he picks up his bag, slinging it over one shoulder.
“next week?” he asks.
“yeah,” you whisper in confirmation.
he steps toward the door, then pauses — hand resting lightly on the frame.
“and…” he hesitates, eyes flicking to yours. “thanks for listening today.”
you nod sincerely. “anytime.”
he gives a faint, relieved smile and slips out.
the door closes. and for a long moment, you stand alone in the studio, heart fluttering, breath soft, a warmth settling into your chest like someone finally opened a window in a stuffy room.
you didn’t just see his cracks today. he saw yours, too.
and he didn’t look away.
─────
it starts slowly — a few curious looks when nicholas walks into the fashion building again, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, hair still damp from practice.
but then people start talking.
by the end of the week, you can feel the whispers chasing you down the hallway.
“why is he going there so much?”
“is he dating someone from design?”
“her? no way, right?”
you pretend not to hear, but your skin prickles every time. your chest tightens. you duck your head lower and lower, shoulders curling in like you’re trying to disappear into yourself.
nicholas has no idea.
or maybe he does — but he keeps showing up anyway.
he brings iced coffees. a snack the next time. then nothing at all, just himself, laughing softly as he pushes open the studio doors like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
and every time he walks in, the whispers get louder.
until you can’t take it.
you start leaving earlier. slipping out back doors. taking different routes across campus. anything to avoid being seen walking with him or even near him.
you think you’re doing a good job.
you’re wrong.
it happens on a thursday — a dull, heavy afternoon where your head feels too full, and your heart feels too small. you’re hurrying down a side hallway when a warm hand catches your sleeve.
you freeze.
nicholas steps into your path, breath soft, eyes steady. not angry. not confused. just… gentle. so gentle it almost hurts.
“hey,” he murmurs. “you’ve been avoiding me.”
your throat locks. you look at your shoes. “n-no, i just— i’ve been busy—”
“don’t lie to me,” he says, but there’s no edge to it. only concern. “did someone say something?”
your breath stutters. your fingers curl into fists at your sides. “i… people are talking. a lot. and i don’t want to make trouble for you or — or look stupid or — embarrass you.”
nicholas goes still. then he takes a slow step closer.
“if i didn’t want to be here,” he says quietly, “i wouldn’t be.”
your breath catches.
he tilts his head, trying to meet your eyes as gently as possible. “you’re not chasing me. you’re not embarrassing me. you’re not… anything they’re saying.”
“but the rumors—”
“they don’t matter to me.” his voice drops further, almost a whisper. “you do.”
your chest squeezes so tight it’s almost painful.
he lifts a hand — stops before touching you, waiting for permission — and when you don’t pull away, he brushes his thumb lightly along your sleeve where he caught you earlier.
“don’t let them chase you from me,” he murmurs. “please.”
you inhale shakily. the hallway feels too small, too warm. his closeness feels like a confession he hasn’t fully said yet.
“i wasn’t trying to,” you whisper.
“i know.” his smile is soft, relieved. “just… don’t disappear on me again.”
and when he lets your sleeve go, your skin feels strangely cold — like you didn’t realize how warm his hand was until it wasn’t there anymore.
─────
the next fitting feels different.
maybe it’s because the whispers got quieter after nicholas started walking beside you again — unbothered, steady, solid in a way you still can’t fathom. maybe it’s because he smiles when he sees you, slow and warm and real.
or maybe it’s because you have changed, just a little.
the studio is quiet, the afternoon light slanting gold across his shoulders as he steps onto the platform. he lifts his arms without being asked, already relaxed in the space that once made him tense.
you try to breathe normally.
you fail.
you’re working on the mock-up jacket today — crisp muslin, pinned at the seams, delicate enough to tear if handled wrong. he holds still, watching you with that focused softness he seems to reserve only for you.
you reach for the collar, and your fingers graze his collarbone. it’s barely a touch — barely anything — but his breath breaks in the middle, a soft inhale he tries to disguise.
you pretend not to notice. you absolutely notice.
you adjust the seam carefully, eyes fixed on the fabric because looking at him feels too dangerous. too intimate.
he doesn’t move. doesn’t speak. but the air between you tightens, charged with something warm and fragile.
“turn a little,” you murmur.
he does, moving slowly, deliberately. like he’s afraid any sudden motion will startle you.
you step around him, smoothing the fabric down his back. the muscles between his shoulders shift as he exhales — a sound that almost feels like he’s letting go of something he’s been holding too long.
“you’re good at this,” he says softly.
you swallow. “it’s just a fitting.”
“it’s not,” he replies. “not when it’s you.”
your heart stumbles. you don’t know what to say, so you focus on adjusting the last seam. but the space feels smaller, your pulse loud enough you’re sure he must hear it.
when you circle back in front of him, he’s watching you. not staring. studying. like he’s trying to memorize the way your hands move, the way your hair falls, the way you avoid his gaze like it’s both a shield and a confession.
your fingers brush his wrist, a tiny accidental touch. this time, he doesn’t hide the reaction — a quiet, sharp inhale before he goes still again.
you drop your hand quickly. “sorry.”
“don’t be,” he murmurs. and the softness in his voice nearly undoes you.
you step back, needing space you suddenly can’t find, and start scribbling notes in your sketchbook. you can feel him watching you — not intrusive, not heavy, just attentive. present.
you think the moment is over.
it isn’t.
as he steps down from the platform, he says your name. just your name. soft. careful. like he’s holding it gently in his mouth.
you look up instinctively — and the look he gives you is so quietly intense your breath catches.
it’s not a confession. not yet. but it’s something. something warm. something real.
“see you next time,” he murmurs.
when he leaves, the room feels colder.
that night, when you lie in bed, replaying every second, one thing echoes louder than anything else — your name. the way he said it.
the way it felt.
─────
you don’t hear him at first.
you feel him — the slam of the studio door against the wall, the sharp crack of wood hitting plaster, the sudden rush of heat into the quiet room.
you jump, heart jolting.
nicholas stands in the doorway, chest rising and falling like he’s been running. his jaw is clenched so tight it looks painful. his hair is a mess, half stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his hands are balled into fists at his sides.
you’ve never seen him like this. not confident. not composed. not steady. just… unraveling.
he doesn’t look at you. he looks at the floor, shoulders shaking with the effort of holding himself together.
“nicholas?” you say softly.
he flinches. not from your voice — from everything else.
he drags a hand through his hair, pacing once, twice, then stopping abruptly like he can’t trust his own legs.
you don’t approach. not yet. you’ve seen animals in pain — the way they lash out when cornered, not out of malice but fear.
instead, you sit on your stool, slowly, gently, letting the silence settle around you both.
he notices.
and for the first time since he burst in, he breathes. not fully and not calmly. but enough.
he sinks down onto the low platform you use for fittings, elbows braced on his knees, head in his hands. his body is coiled tight, every muscle strained, like he’s holding back something explosive.
you wait.
minutes stretch out, soft and thin.
finally, he speaks — his voice hoarse, scraped raw.
“they just—” he stops, shakes his head. “they don’t listen. they don’t shut up. everyone wants something from me. all the time. and if i’m not perfect, if i’m not holding everything together, then i’m—”
he cuts himself off again.
you still don’t move closer. you just sit there, breathing quietly, letting him find his way through the storm.
a long silence fills the room. then, in a small, breaking voice, “i didn’t know where else to go.”
the words hit you like a physical thing. he lifts his head slightly, eyes red at the corners, breaths uneven.
“this is the only place that feels safe,” he murmurs. “here. with you.”
your own breath shakes. because he’s not looking at the room. he’s looking at you. not like you’re fragile. not like you’re someone he has to protect. but, like you’re the only calm in a world that constantly demands he be unbreakable.
you swallow, your voice barely above a whisper. “you can stay here as long as you need.”
his shoulders drop — not fully relaxed, but less painfully tight. relief cracks through his expression, softening the sharp edges. he closes his eyes and just… breathes for a while.
slowly, carefully, like each inhale is stitching him back together.
and you realize something you hadn’t before — while he’s been softening your insecurities, holding space for your quietness, steadying your shaking hands…
you’ve been healing him, too.
healing the boy who never gets to fall apart. who never gets silence. who never gets softness back.
you sit there with him, no words, no pressure — just presence. and for the first time in a long time, nicholas looks like he can finally exhale.
─────
the closeness between you and nicholas lingers long after the fittings end. it settles like a weight in your chest, a warmth you don’t know how to handle. every glance, every small touch, every quiet word echoes louder than it should.
and it shakes you.
you start questioning everything. maybe you’re imagining more than there is. maybe you’re reading into the smallest gestures and inventing meaning where there is none. maybe he’s just being polite.
so you pull away.
you skip a fitting here and there. you take different routes across campus again. you avoid the studio when he’s likely to be there. you become a shadow in your own routine, retreating into safety that now feels strangely lonely.
nicholas doesn’t push.
he doesn’t demand explanations or corner you with questions. he respects the space you suddenly need. but he doesn’t abandon you either.
small gestures start to appear. a sticky note left on your workspace with a simple note.
“hope your day goes well.”
a packet of your favorite snacks, anonymously delivered while you’re distracted in class. and sometimes, quietly, he arrives early — just to sit in the studio, not saying anything, just being there.
it’s subtle. barely noticeable if you’re not paying attention. but you notice.
and slowly, you begin to realize something.
his patience isn’t passive. it’s a hand extended toward you, waiting for you to reach out in your own time. waiting for you to trust that you’re allowed to take up space, that you’re allowed to want his presence, that you’re allowed to feel safe with him.
for the first time in a long while, you feel the possibility of leaning in. not because someone told you to. not because it’s expected. but because he’s letting you choose it. and the choice feels like permission you’ve been craving without knowing it.
─────
the day of your presentation arrives faster than you’re ready for.
the studio is buzzing with energy, models adjusting their outfits, classmates fussing over last-minute details, instructors murmuring critiques to one another. your stomach twists into a tight knot as you glance at your own piece, now complete, now real, now something that has to exist in the world outside your hands.
and then you see him.
nicholas steps onto the runway, and something inside you unclenches just a little. he moves with that same effortless confidence he always carries, but there’s something different — something proud, something steady. he wears your creation like it was made for him. he smiles softly at the audience once, but it’s for you, and the weight of it lands warm in your chest.
you bite your lip, heart hammering, hands gripping your notebook like a lifeline. every step he takes is measured, deliberate, but effortless. you see the way he looks ahead, and the way he carries himself makes your pulse spike in a way you hadn’t expected.
the applause comes, rolling over you in waves, and the world suddenly feels both too loud and impossibly still.
after the show, you’re backstage, trying to calm the storm of nerves that has been building all morning. you’re pacing, tugging at your hair, trying to breathe, when he finds you.
nicholas doesn’t say a word at first. he simply reaches for your hand and guides you out of the crowd, away from the chaos. you follow, heart racing, until you’re in a narrow hallway — quiet, dim, and entirely yours.
he stops and lets go of your hand, but his presence fills the space. his eyes never leave yours, steady and soft and unyielding. for the first time today, the world outside doesn’t exist. there’s no applause, no whispers, no chaos — just the two of you, the aftertaste of adrenaline, and the small, fragile bubble you’ve somehow found in the middle of everything.
you can feel the weight of his gaze, and you know without words that he’s proud. not just of your work. not just of the show. but of you.
and somehow, that makes everything feel… possible.
the hallway feels impossibly small, impossibly still, the chaos of the fashion show fading behind the walls.
nicholas takes a careful step closer, eyes locked on yours, and for the first time, the weight of all the moments between you — the fittings, the quiet gestures, the whispered words — hangs fully in the air.
“you see me,” he murmurs, voice soft but unwavering. “not the stupid captain, not the noise — me.”
your chest tightens. you’ve feared this — feared that what you feel isn’t real, that someone like him could never truly choose someone like you. but here he is, saying it. not in jest, not out of politeness, not as a favor. he’s saying it because he means it.
you swallow hard, voice trembling. “i… i’m scared. i don’t… i don’t know if i’m—worthy of—”
he interrupts with a quiet laugh, warm and tender. “i don’t want someone like you,” he says, stepping even closer, so near that you can see the faintest glint in his eyes, the tremor in his jaw. “i want you.”
every word lands like a pulse in your chest. the air between you hums with heat and anticipation.
then he leans in. slowly. carefully. his lips brush yours in a kiss that feels deliberate, like he’s asking permission with every breath, testing the space you’ve both built, making sure it’s safe.
your knees go weak. your hands lift on instinct, resting lightly against his chest. you kiss him back, and in that instant, all the fear, all the doubt, all the quiet yearning that’s been building melts into warmth.
you lean into him fully — finally allowing yourself to accept the comfort, the protection, the tenderness he’s been offering all along.
and for the first time, the world feels impossibly wide and impossibly still, all at once.
because here, in this quiet hallway, in the soft press of his lips against yours, you realize — you’ve been found. and so has he.
─────
months pass.
you notice the subtle changes in yourself first. the way you move through the studio now — confident, deliberate, unapologetic. fingers that once trembled over pins now handle fabric with quiet authority. your designs are bolder, more daring, full of the little flourishes that used to make you second-guess yourself.
nicholas changes too, in ways small but undeniable. he’s calmer, less brittle around the edges. the weight of expectations doesn’t disappear, but he carries it differently now, grounded in the quiet corners you share. you watch him laugh more freely, pause more often, and notice the little details of the world without rushing past them.
together, you have built something delicate and strong. a world stitched from quiet moments — notes left on worktables, soft smiles across the studio, hands brushing accidentally, slowly, deliberately, until neither of you can imagine letting go.
it’s not dramatic. it’s not loud. it’s ordinary in the most extraordinary way.
your world is yours.
and it is stitched slowly, gently, intentionally — thread by thread, heartbeat by heartbeat, breath by breath. you realize that this — this quiet, imperfect, steady, soft world — is exactly what you’ve been waiting for all along.
Note: Our sweet sweet Euijoo sneaked his way into my heart and I couldn’t be happier! Honestly, from everything I have seen of him, he is such a considerate, soft spoken and positive person and I appreciate him very much. I’m sure we can all learn something from Euijoo and his kindness. I hope you’re all happy and healthy and enjoying early spring (different to this story:)))
—
“It’s s-so cold” you pressed out with clattering teeth, hands in tight fists held close to your body. Euijoo next to you hummed as he shifted to wrap his arm loosely around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest. You let out a shaky breath, hands now desperately clutching the material of his puffer jacket.
“We will be there soon.” He reassured you with his gentle voice, calming your shivering body down. His other arm sneaked around your front before he carefully laid his head on top of yours. Some longer strands of his hair, which were peaking out from underneath his beanie, were slightly tickling your face. The warmth radiating from him was enough to make you momentarily forget the frosty air around you.
The ride on the bus was bumpy and there was a slight sheen of condensed fog on the windows, reflecting the darkness of the dawning night that lays behind them. You and Euijoo were squeezed on a narrow bench in the middle. It was quiet besides the humming of the motor and the occasional car whizzing by. The interior of the bus was lit by two artificial neon strips on the ceiling of the vehicle, transforming the space into an almost eerie and surreal scene. But with your boyfriend besides you, you felt more comfortable than anything.
The bus was mostly vacant by this time, only a handful of people riding alongside the two of you through the empty streets. Across from you, there was an older lady, tightly clutching her trolley inside her wrinkly hands. Her creme coloured head scarf momentarily shimmered in the low light.
In the reflection of the window, you could make out two other passengers. One being a young businessman, clad in a pristine pinstripe suit and the other one being a tired student, wearing the familiar uniform of your former school. You smiled at the memories you cherished from years ago.
“Juju?” You asked quietly, hearing him hum without moving an inch. “I hope my mom makes Galbi-Jjim. I’m really craving it right now.” Your eyes peaked up to meet your boyfriend’s sparkling ones. “Oh me too. It’s so delicious. Your mom’s cooking is the best.” He pulled you even closer, pressing a faint kiss on the top of your head, thinking you didn’t notice. But the irregular beat of your heart and the rush of warmth in your cheeks were prove enough that you did.
“Your mom is always so nice.” His calm and smooth voice made you relax deeper in his embrace, enjoying the closeness and the faint scent of his familiar body wash when your nose found his neck, rubbing the exposed skin affectionately. The giggle spilling from his lips was heart shaking and the love in your eyes, when you looked at him, was unmistakable for anyone watching.
You turn your head slightly upwards to get a better look at him. He looked adorable in his oversized puffer jacket, the beanie over his head and the hood from his sweatshirt draped over it. His eyes dipped down. The lovesick smile on your face was quickly reciprocated by his own when you pressed a swift kiss onto the apple of his cheek. Euijoo was sure you could hear his heart stumbling.
“My mom adores you to bits.” You whispered, only for him to hear. You conversed quietly in order to not disturb the other passengers at this late hour. “You would already move in, if it was up to her.” You giggled, readjusting the grip around his waist. Euijoo’s eyes crinkled with joy. “Really?” You hummed, fully convinced.
Your parents really absolutely did adore Euijoo. It was more than often, that they would quite literally demand his presence at your old childhood’s house to join your family for dinner once again. It has become much of a weekly routine by now and that was the very reason for your late travel. They just loved having him over.
It was obvious your mom loved him just like her own son, always doting on him, always caring for him, packing him extra food, praising him for his tall statue whenever he stood up, sneaking a few bills into his jacket pockets. And you couldn’t be happier how loved he was by the people closest to you.
It was then, that your bus stop was announced, pulling you out of your shared little bubble. Euijoo was quick to act and stretched his arm with ease to pull the stop string. When you stood up, it was painfully obvious how numb your feet felt by the cold.
When the bus finally came to a stop, you noticed the grandma from across you heaving her trolley with difficulty. You were about to step up to help her out, when Euijoo was already moving, assisting her with the luggage and accompanying her outside with an outstretched arm.
You watched the scene unfold with wide eyes, heart warming immediately from his kind manners and gentle words. Your heart felt so full, so full of emotions for this man. You always knew how kind hearted and friendly he was, but seeing him helping an elderly person without batting an eye, was making you feel things you didn’t think possible before meeting him.
With tiny steps, you followed his figure, descending the step of the bus into the vast darkness. The cold air was biting into your exposed skin. You heard the automatic doors close behind you before the continuous rumble from the coach was soon replaced by utter quietness and chirping cicadas.
“Thank you very much. You’re a very well mannered and handsome young man.” The grandma thanked Euijoo profusely, praising him rightfully. You smiled to yourself, cheeks already hurting. “It was nothing.” He muttered humbly, rubbing his neck in a bashful manner.
You cooed. How in the world did you get so lucky to be loved by a man like him? Euijoo was the sweetest, most loving boy with a heart of gold. A heart that needs to be cherished and cared for.
“Will you be okay from here on? Should we accompany you home?” He asked her, bending down slightly for her to understand him better. He was towering tall above her. She waved her hand dismissively, a thankful look on her face. “No no it’s alright. My daughter in law will come pick me up just about now. Don’t worry, son.” She patted Euijoo’s arm reassuringly.
He nodded, gesturing to the other side of the street, where a small wooden house was built, light still shining from the small windows. “You should wait in the store over there. It’s much warmer.” He adviced, having her agree with a hasty nod. “Yes. I’m good friends with the owner.” Her hands found the handles of her shopper again.
You watched their interaction with fondness. Finally bridging the space between, you stepped up from behind, searching for your boyfriend’s gloved hand. His soft eyes found yours immediately when your fingers finally slipped into his, intertwining them naturally. You loved holding his hands. They felt warm and secure.
He smiled brightly at you, giving your hand a small squeeze. Your teeth bared from his cute gesture, snuggling closer to his side.
“Aigoo. You’re such a beautiful couple.” The old lady loudly exclaimed, hunching slightly over her shopping trolley. “Make sure to keep a man like him. They will treat you like a goddess and gift you with many blessings.” The grandma now looked at you with crinkled eyes. Your heart aches with emotions and you nodded with determination.
“I will. He is the best.” You looked up at him for a split second, only to find him already looking at you with love spilling from his eyes, smiling widely. You felt yourself growing shy under his gaze and hid your face beneath your scarf.
The elderly cooed at the two of you, gripping her trolley. “My husband was just the same. Always insisted on carrying my bag and holding the door open.” Her words almost made you teary eyed, touching the very core of your heart. You could hear she loved her husband.
“If you care for one another and support each other, love can only grow.” She nodded along her wisely chosen words. Your heart panged.
“I really wish you just the best! Take care and make sure to eat a lot!” She finally said, feet moving towards the street, giving Euijoo a gentle squeeze on the arm. Both of you bid your goodbyes and bowed, as you watched her cross the street and enter the shop securely.
After a few moments of silence, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, seeing a cloud form in front of your face. Your eyes met your boyfriend’s big ones, smiling like dummies from the surprisingly touching moment.
“How sweet was that? She was so nice!” You cooed, snuggling closer against his tall frame. “Yeah right?” You began walking the dimly lit path towards your parents house. There was a comfortable silence around you, mind still replaying the grandma’s praise towards sweet Euijoo. You could hear the swishing of the leaves in the wind and some crickets from the fields. It was a very peaceful moment.
“That was so nice of you…” you quietly mumbled, filling the silence. “How you helped her.” You clarified. He looked down on you and chuckled. “Ah it was nothing…” he avoided your praise, looking down shyly.
“It was!” You jumped a bit at your excitement. “When you do things like these, I can’t help but fall more for you…” you admitted more shyly this time, eyes fixated on your moving feet. You heard his quiet laugh, feeling him raise your connected hands to press a lasting kiss onto your covered hand. You giggled at his manners, reciprocating the heart fluttering gesture. Euijoo cheeks were dusted in a lovely shade of pink, not fully convincing you that it solely came from the cold.
“Juju?” You muttered, hearing him hum. His heart jumped every time the adorable nickname left your lips. He loved how it sounded from your lips.
“I love you…” you whispered now, not sure if he heard you but when he whispered the same words back, you couldn’t feel any happier.
Warnings: Jealousy, possessivness, flirting, teasing (not sexually), blood, bullying, insecurities, something similar to a panic attack (kinda), I think that’s everything but do let me know if I’ve missed anything,
Taglist: @voucearse, @nadiakittyy, @evemeri, @seodami, @charlie-sk, @somswib, @yumnyangiexx, @petunia05. Let me know if you want to be added for future parts of the series!
Please reblog and/or comment if you enjoyed this!
Network: @k-records,
Finally, the next part in this AU! You asked for it, I wrote it, it’s time for Nicholas!!!!
Featuring Enhypen’s Jay and Jake.
Aya = K’s, Miyu = Yuma’s, Sora = EJ’s, Sana = Jo’s mate
Yudai/K. 2. Yuma. 3. EJ. EJ special part. 4. Jo.
A little note, while writing this one, I realized that I have kind of messed up the timeline, like from Kei meeting Aya, about 2 years have passed, yet Maki has remained 19 throughout everything… at least in my head but I don’t know how clearly I’ve stated that… So we’re just not gonna think about time, it is what it is lol, I don’t know if anyone else has thought of this, but I realized while writing this one that it doesn’t really work, but anyway we’re just gonna keep going and dismiss the concept of time.
Sana fit in just as well as all the other girls. Within weeks, it was like she had always been there, her laughter echoing through the house, her warmth blending seamlessly with Aya’s charm, Miyu’s calm energy, and Sora’s quiet grace. The four of them had grown close, often teasing their mates by declaring, “We need a girls’ night without you guys.” Of course, their playful rebellion never lasted more than a few seconds before they’d turn around and hug their wolves, promising they were only kidding.
The pack loved seeing them like that, happy, united, vibrant. But among the joy, there was also something quieter. The mate-less wolves Nicholas, Harua, Fuma, Maki and Taki, would sometimes glance toward the girls, smiles soft but eyes distant. It wasn’t jealousy, not really, but a longing, a wish for what their brothers had found. That fated bond, that unshakable connection. Still, they were genuinely happy for the others. This was their family, after all. Love for one meant love for all.
Nicholas, especially, seemed content to sit back and watch. Yet, even he couldn’t deny that sometimes, when the night was quiet and the laughter had faded, he wondered what it would feel like to have someone look at him the way Miyu looked at Yuma… or the way Jo looked at Sana.
And maybe that was why, out of all the mates, Sana had become the one he grew closest to. Not romantically, no, never that. But there was a certain gentleness to her, something in the way she approached him that reminded Nicholas that there was still light in the world. After all, Jo and Nicholas were close. Always had been.
And Sana, being Jo’s mate, naturally found herself around Nicholas often, asking him for advice, chatting during quiet afternoons, or seeking help when she wanted to surprise Jo with something special. Sometimes it was about gifts. Sometimes about movie nights. And sometimes, she just needed someone who could listen with patience.
Nicholas was gruff at first, a little awkward when faced with her boundless energy and kindness, but soon enough, he found himself softening around her. Her presence didn’t irritate him like most people’s did. In fact, it was almost calming. He’d never admit it aloud, of course, but Jo noticed. The pack noticed.
~~~
A few days later, Yuma came home from work with a storm cloud practically hanging over his head. Everyone noticed. The normally composed wolf dropped his bag by the door, muttered something under his breath, and sighed so heavily that even Jo’s wolf stirred in concern. By the time the pack gathered around the dinner table, it was clear something was off.
It was one of those rare evenings when Miyu and Maki weren’t working at Koyomi, and Miyu, ever perceptive, immediately leaned forward. “Alright,” she said, resting her chin on her palm. “What’s wrong?” Yuma hesitated for a moment before groaning. “It’s work.” The table went quiet, only the sound of plates being passed around and the faint clink of silverware filled the space.
He exhaled again, rubbing his temples. “Our studio’s been chosen for this huge collaboration with a bunch of famous designers.” Miyu’s eyes widened. “That’s amazing, Yuma! Why do you sound like it’s a bad thing?” “Because,” Yuma said dramatically, “the whole thing is chaos.” Sora chuckled under her breath. “That’s new.”
He ignored her teasing, continuing his rant. “They’re pairing designers up for joint projects, but the pairs are still secret. No one knows who they’ll be working with yet. I just…” He slumped a little. “What if our aesthetics clash? What if I get stuck with someone who thinks neon feathers and fishnet are couture?”
Kei coughed into his hand. “You… did put me in a full-feather outfit last time I modeled for you,” The table erupted in laughter. Yuma’s face turned pink. “That was avant-garde,” he argued, pointing a spoon at his older brother. “Avant-whatever,” Kei muttered, trying not to laugh himself.
Yuma huffed, then brightened slightly as an idea struck him. “Well, since you mentioned feathers, actually…” Kei’s expression immediately shifted into one of suspicion. “No.” Yuma pouted. “Kei.” “No.” “Come on. I need models for the collab! They said every pair needs at least two, and the organizers couldn’t provide enough. You’re tall, symmetrical, and your face photographs well; you are a model.”
Kei held up a hand. “You’re not selling me on this, Yuma.” But the younger wolf was already giving him that hopeful, puppy-like look, the one Miyu swore could melt mountains. After a long moment of silent resistance, Kei sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll do it. But if you bring out feathers again…” “I won’t! Promise!” Yuma said quickly, grinning. “That’s one down!”
Jo laughed softly, leaning into Sana’s shoulder. “You’re really going to make him model again?” “Art requires sacrifice,” Yuma said dramatically. Then his eyes slid to Nicholas. “No,” Nicholas said immediately. Yuma didn’t even blink. “You didn’t even let me ask yet.” “You were going to ask me to model,” Nicholas deadpanned. Yuma crossed his arms, locking eyes with him. “Yes, and I still am.” “I’m saying no.”
They stared at each other, one with stubborn intensity, the other with calm defiance. Maki leaned over from the other side to whisper to Sana, “Five seconds.” “Five seconds until what?” Nicholas groaned. “Fine. I’ll do it.” Maki grinned. “Called it.” The table broke into laughter again. Yuma smirked triumphantly. “See? You do love me.”
“Don’t push it,” Nicholas warned, though there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips. As the laughter settled, the conversation drifted to other things, but none of them knew that Yuma’s upcoming collaboration would soon be more than just another project. Because sometimes fate doesn’t announce itself with a bang. Sometimes, it starts with a simple “yes” you never planned to say. And Nicholas had just taken his first step toward meeting her.
Sana looked across the table at Nicholas, her eyes wide with surprise. “Wait,” she said, tilting her head. “You’re a model too?”
For a moment, the table went silent. And then… The entire pack burst out laughing. Taki was the first to recover, grinning from ear to ear. “I know, right? Unbelievable, isn’t it? I mean, look at him, he’s barely passable!” Nicholas shot him a sharp glare, a low growl rumbling from his chest. The sound made Taki flinch and immediately hide behind Harua, who was already laughing so hard he almost dropped his fork.
“Hey, hey, I was kidding!” Taki said, peeking out. Sana giggled softly behind her hand. “Don’t be mean to him.” Jo glanced at his mate with amusement, murmuring, “You just met him and already you’re defending him?” She elbowed him playfully. “Of course. I like Nicholas, he’s nice to me.”
Nicholas, who had gone back to his food, looked up then, giving a small, almost reluctant smile. “Yes,” he said simply, his tone steady and calm again. “I’m a model. Though, unlike Kei, I do it full time.” Sora leaned forward curiously. “Really? Like magazines and runway shows?” Nicholas nodded. “Mostly. I’ve done a few campaigns, and I travel sometimes for shoots. Kei mostly does sports brands and events, but I’m usually in the studio or fashion work.”
Sana blinked in surprise, glancing at Kei. “Oh, I didn’t realize there was such a difference between what you do.” Kei shrugged. “He likes standing around in fancy coats. I like moving.” “I like getting paid,” Nicholas countered dryly, earning a fresh wave of laughter from around the table. Sana smiled, her eyes softening. “That’s actually really cool,” she said sincerely. “You always seemed like the composed type. I guess that fits the whole model thing.” Taki snorted. “Yeah, composed. He’s all broody and mysterious. People eat that up.”
Nicholas didn’t even deny it, he just leaned back slightly in his chair, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Well, apparently it works.” “Of course it does,” Miyu said, sipping her drink. “You and Kei are basically the pack’s poster boys.” Kei groaned. “Please don’t start that again.” Jo laughed quietly beside Sana. “It’s true, though,” he said. “You can’t walk into a store without seeing one of them on a billboard.”
Sana looked impressed, then teased lightly, “Wow, so I’m surrounded by celebrities, huh?” Nicholas shook his head. “Hardly. Just wolves who got roped into the human fashion industry.” Still, her smile lingered, soft, genuine. And as the conversation moved on to other things, Nicholas caught her looking at him once or twice, thoughtful but friendly. There was something warm in her gaze. Something that told him, even before he realized it himself, that she saw him for more than just his intimidating exterior. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mind when she smiled at him again across the table. Maybe that’s why he smiled back.
Another week passed, and Yuma was still no closer to getting the update he so desperately wanted. Every morning started the same: pacing near his phone, checking for emails, muttering under his breath about how “these people are killing me” while Miyu tried to coax him into eating breakfast before he drove himself insane.
The pack did their best to help him relax, though “relaxing” Yuma before a major project was about as likely as convincing Fuma to take a day off training. Fuma had even tried once, clapping him on the shoulder and saying, “You’ll do fine.” To which Yuma had dramatically responded, “Fine isn’t good enough, Fuma! This could define my career!” At that point, everyone decided to just let him stress in peace. It was part of his process, nervousness first, brilliance later.
While Yuma’s anxiety took over the kitchen table, Nicholas had been away for a few days, working a quick runway show in the nearby town. He came back the next evening, exhausted but visibly relieved to be home. Sana greeted him first, waving from the couch where she sat sketching something for Jo. “Welcome back!” she said cheerfully. “How was the show?”
Nicholas gave a small shrug, setting his bag down by the door. “Same as always. Lights, cameras, and too many people trying to touch my hair.” That made the whole room laugh. Jo grinned from where he was sketching beside her. “At least it’s over now.” “Thankfully,” Nicholas said, rubbing the back of his neck. “A night away feels like a week when you’re used to a full house.”
“EJ didn’t like it either,” Kei remarked from across the room. “He’s been twitchy all day.” “I’m not twitchy,” EJ said from the kitchen, clearly eavesdropping. “I just don’t like the pack being spread out. We do better together.” “Yeah,” Yuma muttered, pacing again. “Tell that to my studio, which still hasn’t emailed me back about the collaboration from hell.”
Miyu groaned softly. “Yuma, sit down. You’re making me nervous.” EJ sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We’ll survive one stressful project, a runway show, and a week of chaos,” he said. “We always do.” He wasn’t wrong. For all their differences, for all their quirks, teasing, and occasional arguments, the pack always found its rhythm again.
But even with the laughter and the warmth of home, there was a steady undercurrent running through them all: responsibility. Between work, school, and everything else, the truth was simple: they needed money. With the younger wolves still in university and high school, and their appetites being… what they were, the cost of feeding a full pack was enormous. So, even though EJ preferred everyone close and safe, they all understood that being apart was sometimes necessary. That was life, even for a pack of werewolves.
And for Nicholas, who’d just returned home, the thought of another trip or job didn’t exactly thrill him. He wanted rest. He wanted quiet. He wanted normal, at least for a while. But fate had other plans. And its timing? As always… impeccable.
~~~
The sun hung low over the trees, the afternoon light casting long golden shadows across the clearing where Nicholas and Taki trained. The sound of fists hitting pads had faded into a tired rhythm, each strike slower than the one before.
Nicholas could feel it, the frustration radiating off his younger brother in waves. Taki’s movements were sharp, desperate, his breathing ragged. It wasn’t just training anymore; it was him fighting himself. “Alright,” Nicholas finally said, catching Taki’s wrist before he could throw another punch. “That’s enough for now.”
Taki pulled his hand back, his chest rising and falling quickly, eyes fixed on the grass beneath his feet. Nicholas watched him for a long moment before sitting down on the ground, motioning for Taki to do the same. “Sit,” he said, voice calm but firm. “And breathe.”
For a minute, there was only the sound of wind through the leaves and their heavy breaths. Then Nicholas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Alright, kid. Talk to me. What’s going on up there?” He tapped the side of his own head. “And don’t say ‘nothing,’ because I can feel it.” Taki stayed quiet for a few seconds, his jaw tightening, before everything came pouring out.
“It’s just,” he began, his voice breaking slightly. “University’s… hard. Harder than I thought. Everyone seems to know what they’re doing, and I’m just stuck. I can’t shift, I can’t keep up, and I just…” He pressed his palms against his face, exhaling shakily. “I feel like I don’t belong anywhere. Not with them, not even here sometimes. Everyone’s so strong and… I can’t even get this one thing right.”
Nicholas felt that ache deep in his chest; he’d seen this coming. Slowly, he reached out and pulled Taki into a hug. The younger wolf tensed at first, then sank into it, like the weight he carried had become too heavy to hold. “Hey,” Nicholas said softly. “Listen to me. Whether you can shift or not, that doesn’t change who you are, or what you mean to us.”
Taki’s breathing hitched. “You’re pack,” Nicholas continued, tightening his hold. “You’re my little brother. You always will be. That’s not something you earn by shifting; it’s something you just are. Understand?” Taki nodded weakly against his shoulder, a quiet sniffle escaping before he muttered, “Yeah… thanks, Nico.”
Nicholas gave a small chuckle, ruffling his hair. “That’s what I’m here for. And don’t forget, you’re not alone in this. We’ve all struggled. Even me.” Taki pulled back, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “You?” Nicholas nodded. “Shifting seemed easy at first for me, I managed to shift perfectly into my wolf form, but shifting back? A whole other story, I nearly broke my ribs the first few times. Ask EJ, he still teases me about it.”
That earned a small laugh from Taki, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. “You’ll get there, in your own time,” Nicholas said, patting his back. “But for now, it’s okay to be tired. It’s okay to rest.” The two of them sat there for a while longer, the training forgotten, the quiet between them peaceful this time. The scent of pine and soil filled the air, familiar, grounding. For Nicholas, it was simple. No matter what happened, no matter how long it took, Taki would always have a place here. Because that’s what family was.
Just as Nicholas and Taki began brushing the grass off their clothes, preparing to head back, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the clearing. Yuma came barreling toward them, his hair slightly disheveled and his eyes wide with excitement, and maybe a bit of panic.
Nicholas straightened, instincts on alert. “What happened? Is someone hurt?” Yuma stopped right in front of him, gripping his shoulders as he bent over, panting. “N-no, no, not that,” he wheezed between breaths, “it’s, it’s about the project!” Nicholas frowned, less alarmed now but still confused. “You scared me half to death for that?”
“I just… I needed to tell someone…” Yuma took a dramatic breath, straightening as his eyes practically sparkled. “They finally revealed the pairing list!” Taki raised an eyebrow. “And?” Yuma’s grin was so wide it looked painful. “My partner is her! (Y/n)! The (Y/n)!” Nicholas blinked. “The designer?” Yuma nodded so fast it was a blur. “Yes! The one who does all those conceptual alt-urban pieces! The woman’s a genius! Her color theory, her structure, her eye for form, it’s like she gets how fabric breathes!”
Nicholas couldn’t help the amused huff that escaped him. But as Yuma kept rambling, something strange happened: a quiet pulse in his chest, a spark. The name (Y/n) replayed in his mind like an echo he couldn’t shake. He didn’t know why, but his heart skipped a beat.
Taki, ever the chaos bringer, leaned against a nearby tree with a grin. “You look more excited about this collab than you were about finding your mate, Yuma!” Yuma froze, mid-sentence, before glaring daggers at him. “What did you just say?” Before Taki could reply, Yuma lunged, shouting, “Take that back, you little menace!” The clearing filled with the sound of laughter and mock outrage as the two of them chased each other between the trees.
Nicholas stood watching them, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. He could already tell that Yuma would spend the next week bouncing off the walls in excitement, and Miyu would have her hands full calming him down. Still, as Nicholas turned toward the path back home, the faintest smile lingered on his lips. (Y/n). Something about the name stayed with him, a gentle tug, deep in his chest. He didn’t understand it yet, but his wolf stirred, curious.
~~~
Four days later, the day finally came. (Y/n) arrived in the small town just before noon, her assistant trailing behind her with two large suitcases and a garment bag. The studio had sent everyone the other’s contact information a few days earlier, and after a few cheerful emails, she had insisted she’d be the one to travel. “I need a change of scenery anyway,” she’d written. “Besides, small towns always inspire me.”
Yuma couldn’t believe his luck; he got to stay home with Miyu, the pack, and still work on this massive collaboration. EJ was relieved, too; the thought of one of his wolves being gone for two weeks, especially one as excitable as Yuma, had nearly given him a headache.
The night before her arrival, the pack had gathered at Koyomi. Miyu had decided they deserved a small celebration, “for Yuma’s career and for my sanity,” she joked, and everyone joined in. The restaurant buzzed with chatter and laughter, plates clinking and music humming softly in the background.
Yuma was, of course, talking non-stop about how excited he was, describing every possible design idea he had in mind. Kei teased him that he should take a breath before he passed out. Nicholas sat at the end of the table, quietly listening, occasionally smirking when Yuma’s enthusiasm hit dramatic new heights.
At one point, Jay, who had come over to check on their table, tilted his head. “(Y/n), you said?” Yuma nodded eagerly. “Yes! You know her?” Jay frowned slightly, thoughtful. “The name sounds familiar… but not from the fashion world. Maybe I’ve heard it somewhere else. Don’t mind me.” He brushed it off with a small wave of his hand, though his crimson eyes lingered on the table a second longer than usual before he returned to the bar.
Nicholas noticed that brief moment, the flicker of curiosity in Jay’s expression, but didn’t think much of it. He leaned back in his seat, watching as Yuma’s excitement reached new levels. The younger wolf’s hands were practically flying through the air as he spoke. Sana giggled softly beside Jo. “It’s so sweet seeing him this happy.” “It is,” Jo agreed, smiling, “but I don’t think he’ll sleep tonight.”
Nicholas chuckled under his breath. He didn’t say it aloud, but something in his chest tugged when Yuma said her name again. (Y/n). The sound resonated strangely in his head, familiar yet unknown. His wolf stirred faintly, a ripple of energy that made him shift slightly in his seat. He brushed it off. It was probably nothing.
~~~
Yuma stood outside the studio, practically bouncing on his heels, the crisp afternoon air doing nothing to calm his nerves. His wolf was restless, a jittery mix of excitement and curiosity that made his tail twitch invisibly beneath his skin. When a sleek black car pulled up by the curb, he straightened his jacket and tried to look composed.
The first to step out was a man, carrying two suitcases and a garment bag that looked way too heavy for one hand. His scent hit Yuma before anything else, faintly earthy, with a trace of something wild underneath. His nose wrinkled slightly. Weird, he thought. He smells almost like… a dog?
Yuma blinked a few times, trying to clear his head. No, that can’t be right. His wolf stirred, sniffing the air again, confused but intrigued. Before he could think too much about it, the other door opened, and out stepped (Y/n).
Her presence hit him like a gust of wind. Confident, steady, and graceful, she adjusted her sunglasses and scanned her surroundings before spotting him. Her hair caught the light, and her outfit was as sharp and artful as the designs she was known for, effortlessly stylish without feeling forced. She looked like someone who belonged on the cover of a magazine rather than the streets of their small town. For a second, Yuma froze. Okay, he thought. Yeah, I’m definitely underdressed.
“Yuma, right?” she asked, her voice calm but with a polite warmth to it. “Ah, yeah! Yes, that’s me!” He nearly tripped over his own words but quickly recovered, flashing a grin. “Welcome! It’s so nice to finally meet you, (Y/n)!”She smiled faintly, tilting her head as if assessing him. “Likewise. You seem… energetic.” “Guilty,” he said with a laugh. Jake, her assistant, came around the car, placing the luggage down beside them. “We’ve got the essentials,” he said.
Yuma nodded, though he couldn’t stop himself from sniffing the air again. That weirdly canine scent was definitely coming from Jake. Maybe he’s one of those guys with a lot of dogs at home, he reasoned, mentally brushing it off.
Once the introductions were done, (Y/n) seemed to relax more. The initial intimidating aura she carried, that quiet confidence that reminded him a little too much of Nicholas, softened. She even laughed a few times as Yuma animatedly told her about the small-town charm, the local café, and the chaos of living with his pack.
She listened with genuine curiosity, and Yuma found himself thinking that maybe working together wouldn’t be so nerve-racking after all. When she smiled again, really smiled this time, he thought she’s not scary at all. Just sharp, self-assured, and… kind.
Still, his wolf stirred again when she reached out to shake his hand one last time before heading inside. There was something familiar about her energy, something warm that made the air feel charged. He shook the thought away. “You’ll love it here,” he said brightly. “It’s not as fancy as the city, but it has heart.” She smiled again, a little more genuine this time. “I think I will.”
Once inside the studio, Yuma’s excitement only grew. He moved around the space like it was his second home, pointing out every little thing as if it were the most fascinating object on earth. “This is where we’ll be working!” he said, motioning toward a large open room filled with natural light, mood boards, and bolts of fabric. “It’s not as big as the city studios, but the lighting here is amazing and the energy is so much better.”
(Y/n) smiled as she took it all in. The space had a certain charm to it, lived-in, creative, filled with a quiet hum of inspiration. “I like it,” she admitted, running her fingers over one of the fabric rolls. “It feels… genuine.” Jake followed behind them, his energy matching Yuma’s. He seemed like the kind of assistant who doubled as a best friend, bright, enthusiastic, and always ready to help. He was about the same height as Yuma, with the same animated way of talking, though Yuma noticed something oddly familiar in his scent again. Not important, he told himself. Focus.
Yuma led them down a short hallway and pushed open another door. “ If you need anything, while staying in the town, just ask, we’re basically all family around here.” “That’s very kind of you,” (Y/n) said, smiling as she set her bag down. She didn’t seem used to being treated so casually, but she didn’t seem to mind it either. “And there’s a shared workspace across the hall,” Yuma continued, pointing. “It’s big enough for both of us to spread out, brainstorm, and… hopefully not destroy everything.”
Once they’d settled in a bit, Yuma checked the time before looking back at (Y/n). “By the way, I already arranged our models for the project,” he said proudly. “Oh?” she asked, interested. “Who are they?” Yuma leaned against the table, grinning like a child with a secret. “Two of my brothers. Kei and Nicholas. They’re both models, Kei mostly for sports and lifestyle brands, Nicholas for magazines and high-end shows. They should be here in about an hour to meet you.”
(Y/n)’s brows raised slightly. “That’s impressive. Family models? You’re lucky.” “Yeah,” Yuma said with a laugh. “They’re used to me dragging them into my projects at this point.” She smiled at that, though her gaze flicked briefly toward Jake. There was a silent exchange between them, just a look, quick but knowing. Jake’s grin softened, and he gave the smallest nod, like they had some unspoken understanding. Yuma caught it, though he couldn’t make sense of it. He tilted his head but decided not to comment. Artists were always weirdly in sync, he reasoned.
~~~
When Kei and Nicholas arrived at the studio, the air changed the second they stepped through the door. It was subtle at first, the faint hum of sewing machines in the distance, the light scent of fabric dye and coffee. But underneath all that, there were two new scents, ones that didn’t belong to Yuma or anyone else from the pack.
Kei slowed his pace, exchanging a glance with Nicholas. “You smell that?” he asked quietly. Nicholas gave a short nod, his expression sharpening. “Yeah.” The first scent was unmistakable, canine, but not wolf. It carried that domestic, tamer note that came from something more human than feral. A dog shifter, maybe? That would explain the doglike undertone that clashed faintly with the wolves’ own scent.
But the other one… that one made Nicholas stop in his tracks. It was soft and complex, layers of florals, old parchment, and something darker beneath. It smelled like moonlit forests, candle smoke, and midnight air after a storm. There was a pulse to it, something ancient and steady. A witch, perhaps. But there was more.
Something within that scent resonated deep inside him, not the raw hunger or possessive pull most wolves felt when meeting their mate, but a low, steady awareness that made his wolf go still. Listening. Waiting.
Kei noticed the shift immediately. “You okay?” Nicholas’s jaw tightened slightly. “Yeah… just…” He inhaled again, quieter this time. “Something’s different about one of them.” Kei studied his younger brother for a moment, then shrugged, though his tone was gentle. “Maybe you’re just catching the witch energy. It’s strong. One of them’s a designer, maybe she’s got some kind of charm or protection spell on her.”
“Maybe,” Nicholas murmured, though he wasn’t convinced. His wolf wasn’t uneasy; it was focused. The difference mattered. They started walking again, their footsteps echoing softly down the polished hallway toward the workroom. As they neared the door, Nicholas felt his heartbeat pick up, just a little. He didn’t know why. He wasn’t nervous, not exactly. But something inside him whispered that after today, things wouldn’t be the same. He rolled his shoulders back, steadying himself, and pushed open the door.
The two wolves followed their brother’s scent through the hallways, their footsteps steady but unhurried. The closer they got, the stronger the unfamiliar aromas became, the faint spice of witchcraft, warm fabric, and that strange underlying note of canine musk. They stopped outside the studio door just as Yuma’s voice floated through from inside, animated and bright as always. Kei shot Nicholas a quick look before pushing the door open.
The moment Nicholas stepped in, his entire world seemed to still. His eyes locked with hers, the woman standing beside Yuma, papers and fabric swatches in her hands, and everything else fell away. His wolf howled instantly, the sound echoing deep inside his mind. Mate.
Her scent hit him like a wave, the same floral and midnight aroma that had lingered in the hallway, only now it was intoxicatingly close. His chest tightened, his heartbeat heavy but steady. He wasn’t surprised; a part of him had already known the second Yuma had spoken her name days ago. Still, having her there, in front of him, made it real.
But then his gaze shifted, and landed on the man standing next to her. That same dog-like scent clung to him, tangled with hers. It was everywhere, in the air, on her clothes, her skin. The sight, the smell, stirred something primal in Nicholas. His wolf bristled, a growl threatening to rise from deep in his chest. Kei’s hand clamped down on his shoulder before the sound could escape. “Stop it,” he hissed under his breath, his voice low enough that only Nicholas could hear.
Nicholas took a slow breath, forcing his wolf to settle. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing briefly before he managed to compose himself. He wasn’t going to make a scene, not here, not in front of Yuma or their new guests.
Yuma, oblivious to the tension, beamed as he turned toward his brothers. “Oh, there you guys are! Perfect timing!” He gestured toward the pair in front of him. “Nicholas, Kei, meet (Y/n), my partner for the collab, and her assistant, Jake!” Nicholas’s gaze flicked back to her, softer now but still intense. Mate, his wolf whispered again, quieter this time, reverent. He gave a curt nod, his voice calm when he finally spoke. “It’s a pleasure.” Inside, though, every instinct in him was already in motion.
(Y/n)’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she looked between the three wolves, their expressions frozen in collective shock. “Nice to meet you guys,” she began smoothly, her tone playful yet composed. “I really see the wolf influence in your stance and build, you’ll do fine as our models.” The words hung in the air for a moment. Yuma blinked, confused, while Kei and Nicholas both stiffened. “You… know?” Kei finally managed to ask, his voice careful.
(Y/n) laughed, a warm, melodic sound that filled the room. It hit Nicholas like a physical touch, his wolf giving a single sharp thump in his chest that he had to suppress by tightening his jaw. He’d never heard something sound so alive. “Yes, I know,” she said easily, resting a hand on her hip. “And so does Jakey.” She glanced toward her assistant, who was grinning ear to ear. “I should probably introduce us properly,” she continued. “I’m (Y/n), and I’m a witch. And this,” she gestured to Jake, “is my golden retriever familiar, who poses as my assistant when we’re around humans.”
With a small flick of her wrist, the air shimmered faintly. Suddenly, the faintest golden glow surrounded Jake, and a pair of soft, fluffy golden retriever ears appeared atop his head, matched by a wagging tail that seemed to have a life of its own. Yuma nearly choked on his own breath. “You, what, that’s, oh, that’s so cool!” he blurted out, eyes wide as he circled Jake like a fascinated child. Jake laughed, wagging his tail a little harder. “Thanks, man! You’d be surprised how often humans think it’s cosplay.”
Kei, on the other hand, looked more amused than shocked now. He crossed his arms, exhaling with a soft chuckle. “Well, that explains a lot. The dog scent, and the witch aura.” (Y/n) smirked, clearly pleased that they’d pieced it together so quickly. “Good noses. You wolves always do have a way with scents.”
Nicholas hadn’t said a word. He stood quietly, observing her. Every word she spoke pulled at him, the cadence of her voice, the self-assured way she carried herself, even the faint flicker of power that glowed beneath her skin. His wolf pressed forward, alert but calm, recognizing her now without question. Mate.
(Y/n) finally turned her attention to him, perhaps noticing his silence. “You must be Nicholas,” she said, smiling gently. His voice came out low, steady. “That’s me.” She met his gaze, and for the briefest second, her smile faltered, her pupils dilated slightly, her breath catching. Whatever she saw in his eyes made her pause. Jake glanced between them, his tail giving one uncertain flick. “Uh… everything good?” “Yeah,” (Y/n) said softly, her gaze still locked with Nicholas’s. “Perfect.”
(Y/n) broke their gaze first, her composure snapping back into place with practiced ease. She turned toward Yuma, voice steady again. “Alright then,” she said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s get started, shall we?” “Right!” Yuma said, clapping his hands together, eager to return to familiar ground.
Jake, already on the same wavelength, darted over to one of (Y/n)’s sleek black bags and unzipped it with a dramatic flourish. From inside, he produced a measuring tape and a small leather-bound notebook, handing both to her with a grin. “Thank you, Jake,” she said warmly.
Then she turned back to the two wolves still standing by the door, gesturing for them to step further inside. “Kei, Nicholas,” her tone was brisk, professional, “why don’t you both come in so I can take a look at your proportions.” Kei stepped forward first, ever the calm and collected one, offering a polite smile. Nicholas followed a heartbeat later, his movements smooth but deliberate, every step feeling heavier than usual.
(Y/n)’s gaze swept over both of them, a designer’s eye mixed with something else, sharper, more instinctive. “Hmmm,” she murmured, almost to herself, circling slowly. “Both of you have good posture and balanced frames…” Her eyes lingered on Nicholas a little longer. “But I’ll take Nicholas as my model, if you don’t mind,” she said, turning to Yuma. Yuma waved his hand casually. “No problem! Kei, you’re stuck with me then.” Kei chuckled. “Guess so.”
(Y/n) gave a small nod before focusing on Nicholas again, stepping closer. “Stand straight for me.” He obeyed, though his muscles tightened automatically when she came within arm’s reach. Her presence was… distracting, to say the least. She began working methodically, moving around him in slow, measured circles, scribbling down notes, occasionally murmuring small numbers to herself.
The brush of the measuring tape against his skin felt like a jolt each time, his heightened senses catching everything: the scent of her magic, the rhythm of her heartbeat, even the soft hum she made under her breath while she worked. “Shoulders… broad,” she muttered softly, as if confirming it to herself, “arm length… symmetrical…”
Nicholas wasn’t used to being observed like this. Being studied. Normally, when people looked at him, they looked away just as quickly, intimidated by his quiet intensity or the barely leashed strength that came with being one of the older wolves. But (Y/n) wasn’t intimidated.
If anything, she seemed intrigued. Her eyes lingered, thoughtful, and it made something deep in him stir, both a spark of pride and an unfamiliar unease. Because for once, he didn’t feel like the predator. He felt like the prey.
(Y/n)’s focus shifted upward as she circled him one more time, her gaze catching on his hair. It was longer than most of the men she’d met, thick, black, and falling in soft layers that brushed against his neck. The ends had the faintest natural wave, a shape that framed his face in that sharp, effortlessly rugged way that matched his quiet demeanor.
Without thinking too much about it, she reached up and lightly ran her fingers through it, lifting a strand between her fingers. The unexpected touch made Nicholas tense for half a second, not because he disliked it, but because the contact sent a spark through his nerves that his wolf didn’t quite know how to process.
“You’ve got really nice hair,” she said casually, still inspecting the strand. “The texture’s great. But…” she tilted her head, her lips quirking into a thoughtful little smile, “I think blonde would suit you better.” Nicholas blinked, caught between amusement and disbelief. “Blonde?” “Mm-hm,” she hummed, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Just a second.”
She flicked her wrist, whispering something under her breath, a soft chant that hummed in the air like static. The faint scent of magic, herbs, smoke, and rain, surrounded them for a heartbeat. Then, right before his eyes, the black turned to a rich golden blonde. Yuma gasped dramatically from across the room. “No way! That’s awesome!” Kei just smirked. “You look like you belong in a K-pop group now.”
Nicholas turned to the nearby mirror, his usually stoic expression faltering. The reflection staring back at him was… strange. Unfamiliar, yet oddly fitting. The blonde lightened his features in a way he hadn’t expected, softening the sharpness of his gaze, bringing warmth to his complexion. He wasn’t vain by any means, but he couldn’t deny it, she was right. He looked good.
Before he could say anything, though, the golden color shimmered and vanished, fading back into its natural black. He frowned slightly. “Why’d it disappear?” (Y/n) smiled, stepping back. “Because I can’t actually change your hair permanently with magic. I can only project the illusion for a minute or so. It’s more of a visual trick than a real transformation.” “A shame,” she added softly, brushing her fingers lightly against the ends before lowering her hand. “It suited you.”
Nicholas didn’t answer right away. His mind was already turning, an idea forming, quiet and deliberate, though he wasn’t sure how he’d pull it off just yet. But he would. If she liked the blonde, then he’d make it happen, not through magic, but his own way. For her.
~~~
Nicholas’s patience was being tested in ways he hadn’t experienced in years. He stood there, trying to keep his expression neutral, his arms crossed as (Y/n) moved across the room toward Jake. She laughed softly as she reached out, ruffling the familiar’s golden hair and scratching lightly behind one of his ears. The retriever’s tail was wagging so hard that it nearly knocked over a nearby stool. Nicholas clenched his jaw.
The sound of her laughter filled the room again, sweet and unguarded, the kind of sound that made something primal in him respond. His wolf stirred restlessly, growling low inside his chest. Every scratch, every affectionate gesture directed at that damn dog made his instincts flare.
He told himself to breathe. To relax. To not give in to the ridiculous possessiveness curling in his gut. She’s just being kind. She doesn’t know yet. She doesn’t know she’s yours. Or does she? Still, sharing her attention was going to be a challenge, more than he cared to admit, because Nicholas wasn’t used to sharing. Especially not when it came to his mate.
An hour passed. Yuma and (Y/n) had finished their measurements and were sorting through fabric samples, comparing textures and shades. The mood in the room had lightened; even Nicholas had managed to calm his wolf enough to stand quietly by, observing. Then it happened.
(Y/n) reached for two pieces of fabric, intending to hold them together with a pin, when the needle slipped. “Ah! Ow!” she hissed, jerking her hand back.
The small sound, that single note of pain, nearly sent Nicholas into overdrive. His wolf surged forward instantly, panic and protectiveness clashing in his chest. He was already halfway across the room before reason caught up. But Jake moved faster.
The familiar darted to her side, worry written all over his face. “You okay, (Y/n)?” he asked, taking her hand gently to look at the tiny drop of blood forming on her fingertip. “I’m fine, Jakey,” she reassured him with a soft smile. “Just a small prick.”
Nicholas stopped in his tracks, every muscle in his body locked tight. He could feel his claws threatening to break through his skin as he watched Jake lean closer. Then (Y/n), ever the affectionate one, scratched behind the retriever’s ear again.
Nicholas inhaled sharply through his nose and turned away, trying, and failing, to hide the twitch in his jaw. He took one deep breath. Then another. Murder is illegal. Everyone would definitely scold me. Fuma would give a lecture. Taki would be disappointed.
He exhaled slowly, muttering under his breath, “You’re lucky you’re a dog, Jake.” Jake’s ear twitched, but he only grinned, oblivious to the internal war raging inside the older wolf. Nicholas ran a hand down his face and silently promised his wolf that they would get through this. Somehow.
~~~
The studio had finally begun to quiet down for the night. The sewing machines were silent, the scattered notes tucked neatly away, and the last streaks of evening light painted the windows gold. Yuma stretched his arms, yawning loudly. “That’s a wrap for today, folks! Kei, Nicholas, thanks for helping out. We’ll pick up again tomorrow.”
Kei nodded, already halfway to the door. Nicholas followed behind, slower, his senses tuned in to every flicker of movement and sound in the room. His wolf was calm now, though the sight of Jake and (Y/n) chatting earlier had done little to help that state. Just as he reached for the doorknob, he heard her voice. “Nicholas!”
He stopped instantly. Turning, he saw her walking toward him, confident, steady, a small smile playing on her lips. Jake had already bounded over to Yuma and Kei, chatting cheerfully about dinner plans, leaving the two of them alone in the fading light. Nicholas waited, his usual stoic mask slipping into place, though his pulse had picked up again.
(Y/n) stopped in front of him, close enough for her scent, that intoxicating mix of wildflowers and midnight, to settle around him. Then, without hesitation, she reached up and ran her fingers lightly through his hair again, just as she’d done earlier. Her touch was deliberate this time. “You’re cute when you’re jealous,” she said softly, amusement glinting in her eyes. “Did you know that?”
Nicholas blinked, caught completely off guard. He cleared his throat, trying to summon his usual composure. “What do you mean?” Her smile deepened. “That you’re jealous of Jake,” she teased, tilting her head. “You want me all to yourself.” Her tone dropped a little, playful but sure. “I’m your mate, aren’t I?” For a split second, Nicholas’s carefully built calm cracked. His wolf stirred, not with aggression this time, but with surprise and a deep, bone-deep recognition that rumbled quietly in his chest.
He couldn’t help but laugh, low and quiet, shaking his head. “Of course you know,” he murmured. She grinned, stepping back just slightly, her eyes bright. “I am a witch, after all,” she said lightly. “And besides… It’s kind of obvious.” Nicholas raised a brow. “Is it?” “Painfully,” she said, her grin turning mischievous. “You’re going to have to work hard if you want me to fall, though.” She turned on her heel, her voice trailing as she walked away. “Good luck, wolf boy.” Nicholas stood there for a moment, staring after her, a quiet, involuntary smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His wolf huffed in satisfaction. Challenge accepted.
~~~
The ride home was quiet at first, or at least, it tried to be. Kei’s car hummed down the road, the last traces of sunset painting the sky in pale orange streaks. The faint sound of music played through the speakers, some old playlist of Kei’s, but it couldn’t drown out the restless energy radiating from the passenger seat.
Nicholas sat there, arms crossed, staring out the window with a scowl that wasn’t entirely anger, more like frustration he didn’t want to admit out loud. Yuma, sitting in the back seat, kept glancing between his two brothers. He could tell something was off, but he wasn’t sure what. Kei, on the other hand, looked far too amused.
“So,” Kei said after a moment, smirking slightly, “the witch is your mate, huh?” Nicholas grunted. That was confirmation enough. Yuma leaned forward, gripping the headrest of Nicholas’s seat. “Wait, what?! How do you know that?” Kei laughed, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. “Because I wasn’t blind or deaf, Yuma. You didn’t notice Nicholas growling half the time we were in that studio?”
“I, he was growling?” Yuma blinked, genuinely surprised. “I thought that was just his stomach!” Nicholas gave a sharp exhale, turning his glare from the window to the dashboard. “Very funny.” Kei chuckled under his breath, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “You’re usually the calm one, Nico. I’ve never seen you so… what’s the word, possessive?”
Nicholas’s grip on his arms tightened slightly. He felt ridiculous, and worse, he knew he was being ridiculous. But the words came out anyway, low and rough. “None of your mates,” he muttered, “had someone else that close to them. Not like her and… Jake.” He said the name like it was poison, bitter and burning on his tongue, something he needed to spit out before it made him sick.
Kei started laughing, and even Yuma joined in, trying and failing to hide it behind his hand. “Oh, this is rich,” Kei said between laughs. “The big, scary Nicholas brought down by a witch and her golden retriever.” “Shut up,” Nicholas grumbled, sinking further into his seat.
Yuma was still giggling. “I didn’t think you could even get jealous.” Kei nodded in agreement. “Yeah, this is a new side of you. I like it.” Nicholas didn’t respond. He just muttered something under his breath that sounded vaguely like a threat, though the faint pink tint creeping up his ears betrayed him.
The other two wolves just laughed harder, the sound filling the car as they drove the rest of the way home, teasing, lighthearted, but underneath it all, genuinely happy. Because for the first time in a long while, Nicholas looked like he’d finally found someone who could truly get under his skin.
~~~
The pack house was alive with its usual evening buzz when the three wolves walked through the door, laughter from the kitchen, the faint hum of a record playing somewhere, and the smell of dinner still lingering in the air. Nicholas barely hesitated before calling out, “Girls! Can I talk to you all for a second?”
The sudden announcement earned several raised eyebrows. It wasn’t often Nicholas initiated group conversations, much less with all the girls at once. Aya peeked out from the kitchen, a wooden spoon in her hand, while Miyu appeared beside her, curious. Sana tilted her head, wiping her hands on a towel as she came from the living room.
“What’s up?” Aya asked, glancing between the brothers. Nicholas hesitated for a second, something that never happened, before gesturing toward the door. “Can we talk outside? Privately.” That got everyone’s attention. Even Sora, who had been comfortably seated in EJ’s lap, looked surprised. EJ’s arms tightened instinctively around her waist. “Why do you need to talk to her privately?” he asked, frowning. Sora gave him a look, though her smile softened as she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Relax, it’s Nicholas. I’ll be right back.” EJ sighed but didn’t argue further, at least not aloud.
Outside, the evening air was cool and calm, stars beginning to flicker faintly across the darkening sky. Nicholas stood awkwardly for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as the girls gathered around him in a small circle. Aya crossed her arms. “Okay, spill it. What’s going on?” Nicholas took a deep breath. “I found my mate.”
The reaction was immediate, a mix of gasps and excited squeals. Sana clasped her hands together, her eyes wide. “Really? That’s amazing, Nicholas!” “About time,” Sora teased with a grin. “So, who’s the lucky one?” “She’s a witch,” Nicholas said simply, his tone calm, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Her name’s (Y/n), she’s the designer Yuma was paired with for the collab.”
The girls exchanged intrigued looks. Witches weren’t exactly an everyday occurrence around the pack. “And,” Nicholas added, almost sheepishly, “she… uh… said I’d look good blonde.” There was a short pause, then Miyu burst out laughing. “That’s why you called us out here?” Nicholas exhaled sharply, trying to keep a straight face. “She liked me with blonde hair. I need to dye it.” Aya smirked. “A witch complimented your hair, and you’re already planning a makeover? Wow, she’s got you good.” Sana chuckled softly. “It’s cute, though.”
The girls started discussing possible methods, box dye, salon appointments, and temporary bleach, while Nicholas stood there, hands in his pockets, quietly enduring the chaos. Finally, Sora raised her hand slightly, her tone practical. “I’ve dyed hair before, like twice. I can help you, but we don’t have any bleach or color here.” Nicholas nodded. “Tomorrow then?” “Tomorrow,” she confirmed, smiling. “We’ll make you look good for your witch.”
He exhaled in relief, muttering a quiet “Thanks” before turning toward the house again. Aya nudged Sana as they walked behind him, whispering just loud enough for the others to hear, “He’s totally whipped already.” Sana giggled. “Absolutely.” Nicholas pretended not to hear them, but the small, reluctant smile on his face said otherwise.
~~~
The hotel room was quiet, soft light filtering in through the gauzy curtains as the city outside settled into the rhythm of night. (Y/n) sat cross-legged on the bed, her notebook open beside her, sketches and fabric swatches scattered across the duvet. Jake sat at the small table near the window, legs swinging lightly, a mug of cocoa between his hands.
He looked up at her, tail flicking lazily behind him. “So,” he started, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, “are we going to talk about the wolf in the room?” (Y/n) glanced up, pretending not to understand. “What do you mean?” Jake raised an eyebrow. “Nicholas. The tall, quiet one who looked at you like you hung the moon.” She sighed, though the faint smile on her lips betrayed her. “Of course you’d bring that up.”
“Well,” Jake said, leaning back in his chair, “I’m curious. You told me before we came here that you had a premonition about a pack of wolves and one name, Nicholas. So did you know he was your mate before today?”
(Y/n) paused, the air between them stilling for a second. “Not exactly,” she admitted. “The vision wasn’t clear, just flashes, wolves, moonlight, a name whispered over and over. I didn’t even know what he looked like. But when we met…” She trailed off, her voice softening. “It just clicked. My magic didn’t even have to tell me.” Jake tilted his head, watching her closely. “So how do you feel about that?” Her cheeks flushed instantly. “You sound like a gossiping aunt, Jake.” “Maybe,” he said with a teasing grin, “but I’m your familiar, I get to pry.”
(Y/n) groaned, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at him. He caught it easily, laughing. “Fine,” she relented, her tone turning quieter. “He’s… different. I find him really attractive, obviously, but it’s more than that. There’s something about the way he moves, how he looks at people, like he’s always thinking five steps ahead but never says a word. It’s intimidating, but…” She hesitated, a shy smile forming. “I kind of like teasing him. He gets all stiff and serious, it’s cute.”
Jake’s grin softened into something more genuine. “You like him.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes, though she didn’t deny it. “I might.” “Well,” Jake said, taking a sip of his cocoa, “for what it’s worth, I think you two are a good match. You’re going to drive him absolutely insane, and he’ll love every second of it.” She laughed, tossing another pillow his way. “You’re impossible.” “Maybe,” Jake said, still smiling, “but I’m right.” (Y/n) leaned back against the headboard, her blush lingering, her thoughts already wandering back to the quiet wolf with the storm-gray eyes and the look that made her pulse skip. Jake was right. She could already tell this was going to be interesting.
The hotel room had gone still. The last of the city lights shimmered through the curtains, and Jake had already curled up on the couch, his breathing slow and steady. (Y/n), however, couldn’t sleep. Not after everything that had happened today, meeting Nicholas, feeling that magnetic pull, the quiet intensity of his gaze that lingered even now in her thoughts. Her chest felt tight with a strange mix of excitement and unease.
She sat up, brushing her hair back from her face, and whispered, “Just a glimpse. I only need to see if this path is safe.” Jake stirred slightly, but didn’t wake as she reached for the small pouch of herbs she always carried, mugwort for clarity, lavender for calm, and a few drops of moonwater she’d gathered weeks ago. She lit a single candle on the nightstand, murmuring softly as she passed her hand over the flame.
The air shimmered faintly. Her eyes clouded over. And then, a flash. Not of peace, or light, or the gentle warmth she hoped for. But of blood. It was everywhere, a dark puddle spreading across a cold floor, growing larger with each passing breath. The smell of iron filled her senses. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, or who it belonged to, but her heart pounded in her chest as dread clawed up her throat.
She tried to pull away from the vision, but it wouldn’t let her go. The scene pulsed, closer, louder, a low growl in the distance, a hand outstretched toward her through the red. Then it all went black. (Y/n) gasped, sitting upright in bed, the candle flickering violently before going out. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Sweat dampened her hairline.
“(Y/n)?” Jake’s voice was instantly beside her. He’d jumped up the second he’d heard her gasp. His ears flicked forward, tail stiff with alarm. “What happened?” She didn’t answer right away. Her hands trembled as she pressed them to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. “I…I just… I wanted to see what would happen,” she whispered. “With Nicholas.” Jake knelt beside the bed, his golden eyes wide and worried. “And what did you see?” She shook her head, tears welling despite herself. “Blood. So much blood, Jake. It felt like it was far away, but also… close. Like it could happen anytime.” Jake’s expression softened. He didn’t ask more. He just climbed up beside her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “We’ll figure it out. Premonitions don’t always mean what they look like.” “I know,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt real.” Jake held her tighter, his warmth steady against her trembling form. Whatever she had seen, whatever fate was weaving, it wasn’t just some distant nightmare. It was coming.
~~~
The morning sunlight spilled softly through the kitchen windows as laughter filled the pack house. Sora hummed cheerfully while preparing everything she needed: bleach, toner, gloves, and an old towel she didn’t mind ruining. She had gone out early that morning, Euijoo tagging along, of course, to buy all the supplies. Now the alpha sat nearby, chin resting on his hand, watching her with the lovesick expression he always wore when she was busy doing anything. “I still don’t get why you have to do this,” EJ mumbled, though the faint smirk on his face gave him away.
“Because,” Sora said sweetly, squeezing a line of bleach onto the brush, “our grumpy wolf wants to impress his witch. And I, being the generous vampire that I am, am here to help him.” Nicholas rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Let’s just get it over with.” “Relax,” Sora teased, tugging on her gloves. “You’ll thank me later. Or well she will.”
Three hours later, the whole house smelled faintly of chemicals, and Sora finally leaned back with a proud smile. “Done!” Nicholas blinked at his reflection in the mirror. His normally dark hair was now a striking blonde, soft, almost golden in the light. It looked… surprisingly good. Even he had to admit it.
“You actually did it,” Kei said as he walked in, arms crossed, trying to hold back a laugh. “Didn’t think you’d go through with it.” “Yeah, well,” Nicholas muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She liked it.” That was all the reason he needed.
The rest of the pack slowly gathered around, unable to hold back their laughter, not mocking, but warm and full of teasing affection. “I give it two days before it’s back to black,” Taki said between snickers. Miyu covered her mouth to hide a giggle. “No, no, it suits him! Right, Sana?” Sana smiled brightly from her seat beside Jo. “It actually does! I can’t believe you bleached your hair for her, though, Nico. That’s so cute.”
Nicholas grumbled something under his breath, tugging his hood up to hide the color. But the tips of his ears were red, a dead giveaway. EJ clapped him on the back, still chuckling. “You look good, man. The witch won’t know what hit her.” Sora grinned, handing him a small bottle of conditioner. “And remember, this is for keeping it soft and shiny. You’re welcome.”
Nicholas sighed, pocketed the bottle, and stood. “Alright, laugh all you want. We have to get to the studio now.” As he walked toward the door, the sound of their laughter followed him, warm, familiar, and filled with love. The blonde wolf couldn’t help but smile to himself. If (Y/n) liked it, then maybe, just maybe, it was worth every teasing comment.
Kei and Nicholas made their way out to the car, the morning air still cool as they walked across the gravel. Kei glanced over at his brother, smirking at the hood still pulled tightly over his head. “You really think she won’t notice the smell?” he teased, unlocking the car. Nicholas shot him a look. “It’s part of the surprise.” “Yeah, a surprise that reeks of peroxide.”
Nicholas just grunted in response, climbing into the passenger seat. Despite his calm expression, his heart was beating faster than usual. He didn’t even know why he cared so much, it was just hair. But the thought of (Y/n)’s reaction made his stomach twist in anticipation.
When they arrived at the studio, Yuma and Jake were already there, chatting about fabric textures and potential color palettes. The moment Nicholas stepped inside, both turned their heads, noses twitching slightly. Jake blinked. “Did someone bleach a rug or something?” Yuma sniffed the air and squinted toward the door. “Nope… that’s definitely Nicholas.”
Nicholas ignored them, leaning against the wall, waiting. Kei rolled his eyes and went to greet Yuma, muttering something about “dramatic wolves.” (Y/n) was focused on her sketchbook, her hair falling forward as she made a quick note in the margin. “Oh, you’re here,” she said without looking up, her voice smooth and distracted. Nicholas grinned. Perfect timing.
He stepped forward just as she turned to face them, and with one simple motion, he pulled his hood down. The room seemed to pause. (Y/n) froze mid-step, her pen slipping from her hand as she stared at him. Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. For once, the confident witch looked completely speechless. Jake burst out laughing, clapping his hands together. “Oh my god, you did it?! You actually dyed your hair for her!”
Yuma’s grin stretched wide. “No way, so you weren’t kidding yesterday!” Nicholas smirked, his golden hair catching the light. (Y/n) blinked a few times before she finally found her voice again. “You… you actually…” she stammered, her cheeks warming. “I didn’t think you’d do it!” “Do you like it?” Nicholas asked, his tone calm but his eyes glinting with something softer. (Y/n) stepped closer, almost unconsciously reaching up to touch a strand of his hair. “It looks… really good,” she admitted quietly. “Better than I imagined.”
Jake snickered. “You two are ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.” Yuma just smiled knowingly, nudging Kei. “Wolves and their mates, never a dull moment.” “You have no right to speak, remember how you were acting prior to Miyu accepting you?” Kei countered. Nicholas didn’t respond, not to the teasing, not to the laughter, because all he could focus on was (Y/n)’s hand still brushing lightly through his hair. If his wolf could purr, it would.
(Y/n) shook her head quickly, snapping herself out of whatever daze Nicholas’ new look had put her in. Her heart was still beating a little too fast for comfort, and she turned around under the pretense of searching for something on the counter, really, she just couldn’t face him while her cheeks were still burning.
“Alright,” she said, trying to sound composed. “Before we move on with the fabrics, we need to test some makeup looks for both of you. I want to make sure the tones match the pieces I’m designing, and that the overall aesthetic feels balanced.” Kei nodded, already familiar with the process. “Got it. Just tell me where you want me.”
Nicholas leaned back against the wall, arms crossed casually, though his eyes followed (Y/n) wherever she moved. “Guess that means I’m your canvas again,” he said with a hint of teasing in his tone. (Y/n) didn’t look at him. “That’s right, model. Try to sit still this time, hmm?”
Kei chuckled under his breath, glancing between them, already sensing the tension. “I’ll take this chair,” he said, motioning toward the one closer to the worktable, leaving the other, slightly tucked-away seat for Nicholas. Nicholas didn’t hesitate, taking the spot further from the center of the room. The small distance gave him what he wanted, a chance to watch (Y/n) work without the constant interruptions from Jake or Yuma.
As she began setting out brushes and palettes, Nicholas rested his chin in his hand, quietly observing. Every small movement she made, the flick of her wrist, the way her hair fell forward when she leaned over her kit, fascinated him.
She glanced back at him once, catching the soft, steady gaze directed her way. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said, trying to sound stern but failing to hide her smile. “Like what?” he asked, voice low, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Like you’re planning something,” she muttered, turning back to her brushes. Nicholas’ lips curved into a half-smile. “Maybe I am.”
Kei coughed loudly from the other chair. “I’m still here, just so you know.” (Y/n) laughed quietly, grateful for the distraction. “Good,” she said. “Then you can go first.” Kei groaned dramatically, and Nicholas leaned back in his chair, satisfied. For now, he’d let her focus on someone else, but as soon as it was his turn, she’d have to come closer again. And that, his wolf was already looking forward to.
(Y/n) exhaled slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she turned toward Nicholas. Okay, she thought, I survived Kei, I can survive this. Nicholas leaned back in his chair, watching her through half-lidded eyes. There was something about the way she always squared her shoulders before focusing on a task, like she was preparing for battle. And if he was being honest, the way she looked at him made his pulse quicken.
“All right, your turn,” she said, trying to sound professional. “Finally,” Nicholas muttered, sitting up straight. His voice was smooth, teasing, that same deep tone that always seemed to vibrate through her chest. Before she could even start, Yuma spoke up. “Actually, while you two work, we’ll head out for a bit. There’s a café next door, I’ll grab something for everyone.” “I’ll tag along as well,” Kei added. Jake nodded. “I’ll pick up her drink. I know what she likes.” The moment the words left his mouth, a low growl rumbled from Nicholas’ chest. It wasn’t loud, but it was definitely there. Kei turned, giving him a sharp look, Don’t you dare. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow. “Nicholas.” He cleared his throat and looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Good,” she said softly, though the corners of her lips twitched upward. He was so easy to read, his jealousy almost adorable if it wasn’t paired with that lethal stare.
Once the others left, the studio grew quiet except for the faint hum of the lights. (Y/n) gathered her palette and brushes, walking over to him. The closer she got, the more Nicholas’ wolf stirred. Her scent, jasmine and something faintly metallic, like magic it kept switching just slightly in tone, it wrapped around him, soothing and intoxicating all at once.
She placed a hand under his chin, gently tilting his head upward. “Stay still,” she said. “I’ll try,” he replied, that same hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. (Y/n) dipped a brush into the powder and began dusting color along his cheekbones. Nicholas closed his eyes, letting out a quiet hum. Her touch was featherlight, her concentration absolute, until she realized just how closely she was standing. Her breath brushed against his skin as she leaned in to blend the color near his jaw. Nicholas opened his eyes, and their faces were inches apart. “You’re staring,” he murmured. “I’m working,” she shot back, though her cheeks flushed instantly. “Uh-huh.” She huffed, reaching for another brush. “You’re worse than Jake when he’s restless.”
Nicholas grinned at that, and she quickly moved to the next step, his lips. “Don’t move,” she instructed, picking up a small applicator. She applied a soft neutral shade, one that complimented the golden tone of his new hair and made his sharp features stand out even more. He held still at first, obedient, quiet, until she pulled back to admire her work. Then, just as she reached for another brush, he licked his lips slowly.
“…Nicholas,” she said warningly. He blinked innocently. “What?” “You just ruined it.” “Did I?” His grin widened. “Guess you’ll have to do it again.” She narrowed her eyes. “You did that on purpose.” “Maybe.” (Y/n) sighed, dipping the applicator again and stepping closer. “Stop moving, or I’ll glue your mouth shut.” “I’d like to see you try.” “Don’t tempt me, remember I can spell you.”
She reapplied the color, this time keeping one hand lightly pressed under his chin, steadying him. He didn’t move, not until her thumb brushed the corner of his mouth to wipe a stray bit of pigment. His breath hitched, and his wolf rumbled quietly again, but this time, it wasn’t a growl.
(Y/n) froze for a second, her pulse quickening. The sound was deep, low, and undeniably intimate. Her hand lingered for a heartbeat too long before she stepped back. “There,” she said, voice softer now. “Done.” Nicholas looked up at her through his lashes, lips curling into a small smile. “You sure you don’t want to fix anything else?” “Positive,” she said quickly, turning away before he could see her blush.
He chuckled under his breath. “You know,” he murmured, getting up from the chair, leaning closer until his mouth was at her ear, “you’re cute when you’re flustered.” Her entire body shivered at the whispered words, she quickly handed him a make up wipe that he could use once she had taken a picture. “You’re impossible.” He took it, laughing quietly. “You love it.” (Y/n) didn’t answer, but the small smile tugging at her lips said enough.
(Y/n) circled around the worktable, gathering the last of her brushes and palettes, but she could feel him, that looming warmth that followed her like a shadow. Every time she stopped, Nicholas was a step behind, quiet but undeniably present. “Do you ever not hover?” she muttered, not bothering to look back. “Maybe I just like the view,” he answered smoothly. She rolled her eyes and bent down to put something away. “You’re impossible.” “And yet you haven’t sent me away,” he said, voice lower now, closer than before. She could hear the grin in it.
When she turned, her breath caught, he was right there again, arms loosely crossed, golden hair catching the light, that infuriatingly confident smirk on his lips. Those lips. And then she noticed it. The faint shimmer of the product she’d so carefully applied was gone. “Nicholas,” she said slowly, narrowing her eyes. He tilted his head innocently. “Hmm?” “You licked it off again.” He had the audacity to grin. “Maybe it’s just a habit.”
(Y/n) groaned, setting the brush down with a soft clack. “You are the most…” She stopped herself, exhaled, and stepped toward him, eyes sharp. “Sit,” she ordered. He obeyed, sitting on the edge of the counter, watching her approach with that calm, predatory ease that made her heart beat faster no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.
She leaned in, one hand coming up to grab his chin, fingers warm against his skin. Nicholas stilled instantly, his breath caught, his wolf thrummed beneath his skin, barely contained. She was so close, her scent wrapping around him, sweet and heady and dangerous. (Y/n)’s eyes flicked down to his lips, barely a few centimeters away. “Keep your tongue in your mouth,” she said quietly, her tone somewhere between warning and a whisper.
Nicholas smirked, that slow, lazy smirk that always promised trouble, and deliberately dragged his tongue across his lower lip. Her hand tightened on his chin. “Nicholas.” “Yes, my witch?” His voice was soft, teasing, threaded with heat. “You seem awfully focused on my mouth. You sure it’s just about the makeup?”
(Y/n) froze. Her heartbeat betrayed her, thump, thump, thump, loud enough for his sharp hearing to catch. He grinned wider. She let go of his chin like it burned her, stepping back quickly. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered, turning away, pretending to fix her brushes just so she didn’t have to meet his eyes. Nicholas leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, watching her with that same amused softness. “If I didn’t know better,” he murmured, “I’d say I’m getting to you.” “You’re not,” she said too quickly. He chuckled lowly. “Sure.”
(Y/n) refused to turn around, if she did, he’d see the faint blush on her cheeks, and she wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction. Still, the air between them was thick, charged, and when their eyes met again a few seconds later, neither of them looked away. It was going to be very hard to keep things professional.
When the door opened and the others stepped back into the studio, the air hit them like a solid wall. It was thick, charged with something unspoken but obvious to anyone with even half a sense.
Jake slowed first, his golden retriever instincts picking up on the shift immediately. His eyes darted to (Y/n), whose posture was far too stiff for her usual calm composure. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her palette, eyes flicking between the wall, the floor, and, inevitably, Nicholas. Every few seconds, her gaze betrayed her, drawn back to him like a magnet before she caught herself and looked away again, cheeks just a touch too pink. Jake had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. Oh, something definitely happened while they were gone.
Kei and Yuma noticed it next. Nicholas was seated, leaning back in his chair with infuriating ease, one leg crossed over the other, arms resting lazily on the armrests. He wasn’t even pretending to hide the smugness on his face. His eyes, usually cold and sharp, held a dangerous glint of amusement, locked entirely on (Y/n) like a hunter who already knew his prey would come closer on her own. Kei’s shoulders tensed. He’d seen that look before; it was the same one Nicholas wore before a sparring match he knew he would win. Except this wasn’t a fight in the training field. This was something far messier.
Yuma looked between them, confusion flashing in his golden eyes, until even he realized what was happening. The silence in the room was heavy; the kind of silence that carried heat and tension instead of peace. (Y/n) pretended to check her notes, but the slight tremor in her hand betrayed her. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, the faint shimmer of the gloss she’d reapplied not long ago still catching the light, proof that something had flustered her before they arrived.
Nicholas didn’t move, didn’t say a word. He just watched her, that faint smirk curving his lips, patient, knowing. The kind of look that said: I’m not done with you yet. Jake coughed softly, trying to diffuse the moment, but Kei caught his eye and gave a subtle shake of his head. There was no breaking this tension. Whatever was going on between the wolf and the witch, it was only just beginning, and everyone in that room could feel it.
~~~
Yuma had just finished explaining a new fabric choice when her hand brushed his. It was so small, so unimportant a gesture, until the world fell away. (Y/n)’s body stiffened. The pen she’d been holding hit the floor with a sharp click. Her lips parted, but her voice was gone, trapped somewhere deep in her chest. “(Y/n)?” Yuma said softly. No answer.
Then came the sound, a low, strangled gasp as if the air itself had turned against her. Jake shot up from his chair instantly, his pupils flashing gold. “She’s having a vision!” But something was wrong. Magic shimmered around her like static, crackling and twisting in the air, snapping against her skin. Nicholas could smell it, wild, panicked, burning. His instincts screamed at him. Before Jake could even reach her, Nicholas was there, catching her as her body lurched sideways. He lowered her to the ground, his heart thundering, her pulse fluttering weakly under his hand. “(Y/n)! Look at me!” His voice came out half-growl, half-plea. Her eyes were wide open, glowing faintly violet, but she wasn’t seeing him.
(Y/n) couldn’t hear them, her entire mind stuck in the vision. She was standing in a dim room. The air smelled of iron and smoke. It was quiet, too quiet. Then, the sound. Drip… drip… drip. She looked down. A pool of blood was spreading beneath her feet, thick and dark, soaking into the cracks of the floor. Her breath hitched. It was the same vision from last night. She turned, searching for the source, and froze.
There was someone lying on the ground. The figure’s body was half in shadow, but she saw the outline, broad shoulders, familiar hands streaked with crimson. “Nicholas?” she whispered, voice trembling. The moment she said his name, everything lurched. The blood surged outward as if alive, crawling across the floor toward her. The air filled with screams, deep, agonized, inhuman. She covered her ears, falling to her knees, her heart pounding as the world shattered into fragments, fire, the scent of rain, the echo of a howl that sounded like grief. Then she saw eyes. Golden. Dimmed. And a voice desperately calling her name. “(Y/n)!”
Nicholas didn’t realize he’d shouted until the others turned to look. He could feel her trembling, her heart racing out of control. Her magic flared, the scent of ozone filling the studio. Jake crouched beside him, panic lacing his voice. “This, this isn’t normal, she’s drowning in the vision!”
Nicholas’s wolf roared within him, the sound almost spilling into reality. Without thinking, he pulled her close, pressing her against his chest, his voice dropping low, a grounding rumble that vibrated through both of them. “Come back to me,” he whispered. “You’re safe. You’re here. Come back.” Her trembling began to ease. The static hum of magic faded, dissolving into soft sparks of light. She let out a shaky breath and then went still, slumping in his arms, unconscious but breathing evenly.
Nicholas didn’t move. He just held her, one hand still stroking her hair as if trying to soothe the ghost of whatever nightmare she’d seen. Jake’s voice broke the silence, quieter now. “That wasn’t a normal vision,” he said. “Whatever she saw… it was bad. Really bad.” Nicholas’s jaw tightened, his eyes glowing faintly gold. “Then I’ll find out what it was,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. He looked down at her face again, brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek with trembling fingers.
Nicholas stayed where he was, knees pressed against the studio floor, (Y/n)’s limp body still cradled against his chest. Her head rested in the crook of his neck, her breathing shallow but steady now. His thumb brushed against her temple in slow, grounding circles, more for his sake than hers. His wolf still paced beneath his skin, restless, protective, refusing to let go.
Kei crouched down beside them, his usual composed demeanor wavering slightly as his sharp eyes flicked between the unconscious witch and her familiar. “Jake,” he began, his voice calm but edged with curiosity, “what exactly just happened to her? I’ve heard of witches losing control of their magic, but this…” he gestured vaguely toward the faint shimmer of magic that still lingered in the air, “this felt different.” Jake hesitated. His golden eyes darted from Kei to Nicholas, then back to (Y/n). He bit his lip, ears twitching nervously. “It’s… complicated,” he admitted, voice lower now. “And not exactly something she likes people to know.”
Nicholas looked up sharply, his expression unreadable. “We just watched her collapse,” he said, his voice quieter but heavy with restrained urgency. “I think we deserve to know what’s going on.” Jake sighed, his usual playful energy dimming. “Alright,” he said finally. “But you have to understand, she hides this for a reason.” He glanced down at (Y/n), as if silently asking for permission she couldn’t give. “(Y/n) isn’t just a witch.”
Kei frowned. “Then what is she?” “She’s… half-oracle,” Jake said. The silence that followed was thick. Even Yuma, who had been frozen a few feet away, seemed to forget how to breathe. “A half–witch, half–oracle?” Kei repeated, disbelief threading through his tone. “That’s not, I mean, those two bloodlines aren’t supposed to…”
“They’re not,” Jake finished for him. “They don’t mix well. Ever. It’s… rare. Dangerous, even. Her mother was a witch, her father an oracle. That kind of union usually tears the child apart before they even reach adulthood. But somehow, she made it.” He ran a hand through his blond hair, exhaling shakily. “Her witch side is steady; it’s what lets her live like a human, blend in, create, and control her magic. But her oracle side…” He trailed off, his tail flicking anxiously. “That’s different. It’s wild. Uncontrolled. The visions come when they want, not when she calls for them. And when they hit, they hit hard.”
Nicholas tightened his grip on her slightly, jaw flexing. “And she goes through that alone?” Jake nodded, guilt flickering across his face. “She doesn’t like people knowing about it. You saw how powerful it is, it scares people. Even witches don’t trust oracles. They think they bring misfortune, that they’re cursed.” Kei’s brows furrowed, his tone softening. “So she hides that part of herself to survive.” Jake nodded again. “Pretty much. The visions don’t happen often, maybe once every few months. But when they do, they always mean something. Something big. And if she reacted like that…”
He stopped himself, glancing at Nicholas, whose golden eyes burned brighter, fierce and terrified all at once. “If she reacted like that,” Jake said finally, quieter now, “then whatever she saw… it’s something she’d give anything to stop.” Nicholas didn’t answer. He looked down at her face, brushing a strand of hair away with trembling fingers. She looked peaceful now, fragile even, but the scent of fear still clung to her skin.
His wolf growled softly, low and possessive. Whatever she saw, he thought, whatever’s coming… it won’t touch her. Not while I’m still breathing. Kei exhaled quietly, rising to his feet. “We need to get her somewhere safe to rest. Yuma, grab some water. Jake, help me clear that table.” Jake nodded, moving fast, but his worried gaze never left her. And Nicholas… he just stayed where he was, holding his mate, every part of him silently vowing that he’d never let her face her nightmares alone again.
While they waited for (Y/n) to wake up, the tension in the studio remained heavy, unrelenting. She now rested on one of the large worktables, a folded jacket beneath her head and another draped across her body. It wasn’t ideal, not even close, but no one wanted to risk moving her until she came to. The rhythmic sound of her breathing was the only thing keeping Nicholas grounded, though his eyes never left her face, not even for a second.
Jake hovered nearby, his tail low, guilt and worry clear in every motion. Yuma had fetched water and set it beside her, but his hands still fidgeted, unsure what else to do. Kei, however, stood a few steps back, expression unreadable, though his eyes flicked between each person in the room, assessing, thinking. Then he exhaled and quietly said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I need to make a call.”
Nicholas didn’t even look up, just gave a faint nod, his hand still tracing idle circles against (Y/n)’s arm. Kei slipped outside, closing the door behind him, letting the cool evening air hit his face. He walked a few steps away from the entrance before pulling out his phone. It rang twice before a smooth voice answered, playful as always. “Kei! To what do I owe the pleasure? You miss me already?”
“Jay,” Kei said, tone sharp enough that the vampire’s teasing stopped instantly. “This isn’t a social call. I need to ask you something, and it’s important.” Jay went silent for a beat. “…Alright. What’s wrong?” “The designer working with Yuma, her name’s (Y/n), the other night, you seemed to recognize her name, have you figured out why?”
There was a pause on the other end. Then a slow inhale. “Ah, yes, he name felt familiar the other night.” His voice had dropped now, the warmth replaced with something colder, heavier. “I didn’t think it could be the same one, but…” “But what?” Kei pressed. Jay hesitated before continuing. “Back at the coven, years ago, I used to hear stories. Whispers, really. About a witch, young, powerful, but… different. They said she wasn’t just a witch. That she was half-oracle, you can imagine how that went over with the other witches.”
Kei’s expression darkened. “They shunned her.” Jay’s sigh was soft but full of weight. “Yes. They said her visions brought nothing but pain. That everyone she grew close to met a terrible fate. The coven called her ill-starred, cursed by the moon itself. Most avoided her. Others… well, you know how witches handle things they don’t understand.”
Kei stared out at the trees beyond the road, jaw tight. “And you think that’s her?” “I can’t be sure,” Jay said. “But if it is, then she’s been carrying that burden for a long time. It’s not that she brings misfortune, Kei. It’s that misfortune seems to find her. That’s a very different thing.” Kei nodded slowly, his grip tightening around his phone. “That’s all I needed to know. Thanks, Jay.” “Kei!” Jay’s voice softened again, almost hesitant. “Be careful with her. If she’s anything like the stories said, then she’s suffered enough already.”
“I know,” Kei said quietly. “I don’t believe she’s cursed. I think bad luck just doesn’t know how to let go of her.” And with that, he ended the call, pocketing his phone before looking up at the dimming sky. The first stars were just beginning to appear, their light faint but steady. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, the faintest hint of resolve settling into his features. Then he turned back toward the studio, toward the witch lying unconscious on a table, and the wolf who wouldn’t let go of her hand. Because whatever kind of fate she carried, the pack wouldn’t let her face it alone.
Just as Kei pushed the door open and stepped back into the studio, a soft sound broke through the silence, a faint groan, the rustle of fabric, and then (Y/n)’s fingers twitched against the jacket draped over her. Nicholas was at her side again in an instant, his chair scraping against the floor as he moved. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low but laced with unmistakable relief. “You’re alright. Easy now.”
Her eyelids fluttered open, the violet of her irises dimmed but still faintly glowing. Her gaze found his first, as if her soul recognized him before her mind caught up, and then drifted to the others gathered around her. Her throat felt dry, her body weak. Nicholas lifted the bottle of water from the nearby table and gently pressed it into her hands. “Drink,” he said, tone soft but firm. She obeyed, sipping slowly, the cool liquid easing the burn in her chest.
Kei stepped forward, his usually steady voice calm but carrying a weight that filled the room. “(Y/n),” he began, “I think it’s best if you and Jake come with us. Stay at the village for a while.” Her eyes flickered up to him, reading the serious tone, the looks of concern shared between the wolves. There was something else there too, pity, maybe fear. Her shoulders tensed as she turned her gaze toward Jake, who stood a few feet away, tail low, avoiding her eyes.
“Jake,” she said quietly, “you told them, didn’t you?” Jake flinched, his ears drooping instantly. “I…” He swallowed hard. “Yes. I did. I had to, (Y/n). You passed out, and none of them knew what was happening, I couldn’t just…” She lifted a weak hand, stopping him. “It’s alright,” she said, voice gentle despite the exhaustion threading through it. “I’m not upset. You did what you thought was right.” Jake blinked rapidly, relief and guilt mixing in his expression.
Nicholas helped her sit up properly, one arm braced behind her back as she swung her legs over the edge of the table. His hand lingered at her waist, steadying her as she tried to find her balance. The contact, the quiet steadiness of him, made her feel grounded again. Then she turned to Kei. “You really want someone like me around your pack?” she asked, her tone calm but heavy. “Someone who brings death?”
Nicholas’s entire body went rigid, a low growl rising in his throat before he could stop it. “Don’t say that,” he snapped quietly, his wolf close to the surface. But Kei raised a hand, motioning him to wait. “No,” he said evenly. “I don’t.” The words hit like a cold wind. Even Jake stiffened, his tail stilling behind him. Nicholas bared his teeth, his voice a dangerous snarl. “Kei,” But Kei continued, his tone unwavering. “I don’t want someone who brings death, (Y/n). But I don’t believe that’s what you are.”
Her eyes widened slightly, confusion flickering across her face. Kei stepped closer, his calm, alpha-like presence radiating quiet assurance. “I made a call while you were unconscious. I heard the stories. I know what people say about you, that you’re cursed, that your visions bring misfortune.” She lowered her gaze, her fingers tightening around the bottle.
“But I don’t believe that,” Kei said. “I don’t think you bring death. I think death has been chasing you, clinging to you, trying to convince you it’s your fault when it’s not.” His voice softened. “You don’t scare us. You won’t be alone with this anymore.” (Y/n)’s breath trembled. She looked at him, then at Nicholas, the wolf who hadn’t moved an inch from her side. His expression had softened, but his golden eyes still burned with fierce protectiveness.
Nicholas reached out, his hand brushing against hers. “You’re not a curse,” he said, his tone low, intimate. “You’re my mate.” For the first time since waking, she let out a shaky breath that almost resembled a laugh, fragile, disbelieving. “You really think you can fight fate?”
Kei gave a small smile. “If fate wants a fight,” he said, “she’s picked the wrong pack to mess with. Besides, we’ve already had a twist or two.” The room was silent for a long moment, the tension melting into something steadier, fragile hope, maybe even acceptance. (Y/n) exhaled and nodded slowly. “Alright,” she said softly. “We’ll come with you.” Jake smiled faintly from where he stood. Nicholas looked down at her, thumb brushing over her knuckles, and for the first time since she collapsed, his chest didn’t feel so tight. Because maybe Kei was right. Maybe fate had picked the wrong pack.
Kei’s voice echoed through the mind link, calm but firm, reaching every wolf in the pack. We’re bringing Nicholas’ mate and her familiar back with us. Two rooms need to be prepared, one for each of them. Instantly, the link erupted with questions. Nicholas’ mate? Finally! Wait, her familiar? But then came Ej’s voice, steady and authoritative even in the shared space. Did something happen? Kei sighed quietly before answering. I’ll explain everything once we’re home. Just make sure the rooms are ready. There was a moment of silence, then Ej’s reply came through, calm and trusting. Alright. We’ll be ready. Drive safe.
With that, the link faded, leaving Kei to exhale and focus on the situation in front of him, and the pair currently bickering by the studio door. Nicholas stood with his arms crossed, his expression sharp with irritation. (Y/n) mirrored his stance, though the stubborn set of her jaw was slightly undermined by how pale she still looked. “I can walk,” she insisted for the fourth time, glaring up at him. “You can barely stand,” Nicholas countered, his voice low but firm. “You nearly passed out again just now.”
(Y/n) rolled her eyes, muttering something about “overprotective wolves.” Jake stood a few feet away, tail twitching nervously as he tried to decide if he should intervene. Kei, however, stayed quiet, watching with the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes, this was so Nicholas. “Nicholas,” (Y/n) began again, her tone laced with exasperation, “if you try to” But she didn’t get to finish. With one smooth motion, the wolf simply scooped her up, one arm under her knees, the other around her back, holding her securely against his chest.
She let out a startled yelp, gripping the fabric of his jacket. “Nicholas!” “I warned you,” he said, unfazed, already heading for the door. “You had your chance to agree.” Her cheeks flushed, whether from the warmth of his body or pure embarrassment, even she didn’t know. “You’re impossible,” she mumbled under her breath. “Glad you’re catching on,” he muttered back, lips twitching in a faint smirk.
Jake followed close behind, carrying (Y/n)’s bag. When they reached Kei’s car, he opened the back door, clearly intending to sit beside her, but the second he took a step closer, a deep, unmistakable growl rolled out from Nicholas’ chest. Jake froze mid-step, blinking. “Seriously?” Nicholas didn’t even bother answering, his golden eyes narrowing slightly, possessive and unamused. “Nicholas,” Kei said sharply, tone brooking no argument. “Enough. Jake’s not your competition.” The wolf shot his brother a look that clearly said, He’s still too close.
Kei sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Jake, front passenger seat. Yuma, you sit in the back with our overly territorial wolf.” Jake smirked as he moved around to the front. “Guess I’ll leave you two lovebirds to bond.” (Y/n) snorted softly, but Nicholas didn’t respond, though his glare did make Jake hurry a little faster. Once everyone was settled, Kei started the car. The engine hummed to life, headlights cutting through the dim light as they began the drive toward the village.
In the backseat, Nicholas adjusted his grip on (Y/n), who had relaxed slightly against him, exhaustion pulling at her again. Yuma sat quietly beside them, shooting Nico a teasing look but choosing, wisely, to stay silent. As they drove, (Y/n)’s head slowly dropped against Nicholas’ shoulder, her breathing steady. He looked down at her, his thumb brushing gently over her arm, his earlier irritation melting into quiet protectiveness.
Kei caught the look in the rearview mirror, the kind of look that said Nicholas wasn’t going to let anything hurt her. Not ever. And with that, the pack was one step closer to bringing home the witch who saw death in her dreams and the wolf who refused to let fate take her.
~~~
When the car pulled into the village, the air was already alive with quiet anticipation. The entire pack had gathered outside, the front porch lights from the main house spilling golden light across the gravel road. Shadows moved between the cabins, curious eyes, familiar faces.
Kei had barely turned off the engine when every pair of eyes locked onto the car. The first door to open was the passenger side, Jake stepped out, tail flicking once, ears twitching under the porch light. A collective gasp rippled through the group. “Whoa,” Taki blurted out, eyes wide. “He’s got ears. And a tail!” Aya elbowed him sharply. “Don’t be rude.” But it wasn’t Jake who kept their attention for long.
The second the back door opened, Nicholas stepped out his expression unreadable. In his arms, cradled close to his chest, was a girl. Her hair fell across her face, her head resting against him, completely still. The pack went silent. Even Fuma, gasped.
EJ stepped forward slowly, his alpha aura faint but steady, scanning the two new arrivals. His gaze swept over Jake, noting the canine features with faint curiosity, and then landed on Nicholas, who was holding the unconscious witch as if she were made of glass. EJ didn’t speak. He just looked over at Kei, silently demanding an explanation. The eldest wolf’s eyes met his, steady and calm, silently promising later.
Sora, who had been standing just behind EJ, slipped forward, her hand lightly gripping his arm as if to steady herself. Her eyes were fixed on the girl in Nicholas’ arms. “May I?” she asked softly. Nicholas hesitated but then gave a small nod, adjusting his hold so that Sora could reach out. The vampire extended her free hand, placing it gently against (Y/n)’s arm. Her eyes glowed faintly red for a split second, the telltale sign of her healing power activating. And then she gasped. “Sora?” EJ’s tone sharpened instantly.
Her eyes darted to him, wide with disbelief. “Her body…” She drew in a quick breath, her fingers trembling slightly. “It’s reacting like she’s actively bleeding, not on the surface, but from within. Like every nerve, every vein is screaming.” A chill swept through the wolves. Nicholas’s grip tightened protectively around (Y/n), his wolf snarling just under the surface. “What does that mean?” he demanded, voice low. “I don’t know,” Sora said truthfully, pulling her hand back slowly, her expression troubled. “It’s not something I’ve ever felt before. It’s like her life force is drained, constantly fighting itself.”
Jake stepped closer, ears flicking back. “It’s her oracle side,” he said quietly. “It takes a toll on her, sometimes worse after a vision. It’s like her magic rips itself open from the inside.” EJ’s expression softened just slightly as he looked between the three of them. The situation was strange, even by their standards. But he wasn’t going to ask questions now, not while Nicholas was clearly on edge and the girl in his arms looked barely conscious.
“We’ve got two rooms ready in the third cabin,” EJ said finally, his voice calm, authoritative. Nicholas didn’t wait for permission. The second the words left his alpha’s mouth, he adjusted his hold on (Y/n) and started walking toward the cabin, his long strides purposeful. Sora watched him go, her hand still faintly glowing with residual energy. “She’s strong,” she murmured, “but whatever she’s carrying… it’s heavy.” Kei nodded quietly. “That’s why she’s here. We’ll figure it out.” As Nicholas disappeared into the shadows between the cabins, the pack exchanged uneasy glances, curiosity, concern, and something else, something they hadn’t felt in a while.
As Nicholas disappeared into the cabin, the screen door closing softly behind him, the rest of the pack stood in uneasy silence for a few moments. Jake lingered just outside, glancing back once before following his witch’s scent inside.
The tension broke when Miyu suddenly clapped her hands together, her expression determined. “Alright,” she said, turning toward Maki, “we’re not just going to stand here and stare. That girl’s been through hell, she needs a real meal. Come on, let’s cook something warm, something with actual substance.” Maki nodded instantly, his usual easygoing smile replaced by genuine concern. “Yeah, I’ll grab what we have left in the pantry. Maybe make some soup and rice too, something gentle on the stomach.” Miyu smiled softly, patting his arm. “Good thinking. Let’s get started.”
As they disappeared toward the kitchen, Sana turned to Jo, her brow creased. “Do you think we should go check on Nicholas? He looked… worried. More than usual.” Jo glanced toward the direction of the cabin, his expression thoughtful but calm. “I think it’s better to give him space for now,” he said quietly. “He’s already on edge, and if she’s still unconscious, he won’t want anyone hovering around.” Sana sighed but nodded, trusting his instinct. “You’re right. Still, poor girl.”
Meanwhile, on the far side of the yard, Fuma and EJ had approached Kei, their faces serious. Even Sora stayed close, her hand brushing against EJ’s arm again, her crimson eyes still troubled from what she’d felt earlier. Kei exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He’d known this was coming. “Alright,” EJ said first, folding his arms. “You said you’d explain. Now’s the time.”
Kei nodded, his voice calm but weighted with the gravity of what he was about to share. “Her name’s (Y/n),” he began. “She’s Nicholas’s mate. And she’s not just a witch, she’s half-oracle.” Fuma’s eyes widened slightly, but it was EJ who reacted first, his jaw tightening. “An oracle,” he repeated, the word sharp. “You’re sure?” Kei nodded once. “Her familiar confirmed it, the one with the ears and tail, Jake. Said she’s half-witch, half-oracle. It’s a volatile mix. He said her visions come without warning, and when they do, they… hurt her.”
Sora frowned, arms crossing loosely over her chest. “That explains what I felt earlier,” she murmured. “It wasn’t just pain, it was her magic tearing through her own body. That kind of imbalance can destroy a person from the inside out.” Fuma looked between them, disbelief flickering in his usually steady eyes. “Oracles aren’t trusted for a reason,” he said quietly. “You all know that. They bring warnings, but never good ones. Every story ends in loss.”
EJ nodded slowly, his voice lower now. “They’re seen as omens. Witches don’t trust them. Vampires avoid them. Even other wolves…” he trailed off, glancing toward the cabin where Nicholas had gone. “They’re unpredictable. Dangerous.” Kei met their eyes, his expression calm but resolute. “I know the stories. Jay told me as much. But he also said something else, that it’s not her who brings the misfortune. It’s that misfortune seems to find her.”
Sora tilted her head slightly, her voice quiet. “Cursed by fate itself.” “Maybe,” Kei said. “But if that’s true, then we’ll just have to be stronger than whatever fate throws at us.” Fuma let out a slow sigh, his expression softening. “Nicholas won’t leave her side. You know that, right?” Kei’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Yeah. He’s already made that pretty clear.”
EJ nodded, his earlier tension easing slightly, though the concern in his eyes remained. “Then we protect her, like any one of our own. Until we know what that vision meant.” Sora reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against his hand. “I’ll keep an eye on her magic when I can,” she offered softly. “Just in case something changes.” “Thank you,” Kei said, his voice sincere.
The group fell quiet for a moment, each of them lost in thought. The sound of pots clinking came faintly from the cabin kitchen where Miyu and Maki worked, laughter breaking through the heaviness of the moment. Kei looked toward the cabin where Nicholas and (Y/n) were, his gaze steady. “We’ve dealt with curses, vampires, and monsters before,” he said finally. “A witch with a haunted gift isn’t going to scare us off.” Sora smiled faintly. “Let’s just hope fate knows that too.”
~~~
Nicholas sat in silence, his chair drawn close to the side of the bed where (Y/n) lay sleeping. The only sounds in the small cabin were her slow, steady breaths and the occasional creak of the wood as the evening wind brushed against the walls. His eyes didn’t leave her, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the faint color returning to her cheeks.
A few feet away, Jake sat cross-legged on the floor, hands resting loosely on his knees. He hadn’t said much since they arrived. The familiar could sense the tension radiating from the older wolf, not hostility, not exactly, but a deep, territorial protectiveness. Jake respected it. He wasn’t her mate, and though he’d protect (Y/n) with his life, he understood the way Nicholas’ instincts worked. So he stayed where he was, silent and patient.
For a long time, no one moved. Then a gentle knock broke the quiet. Nicholas’ head snapped toward the door, his posture instantly alert, but Jake was already standing, padding softly over to answer. The door opened to reveal Maki, balancing a tray overflowing with food. The smell of rice, soup, roasted meat, and something sweet immediately filled the room. “Hey,” Maki said with a small smile, stepping inside. “Figured you guys might be hungry.”
Nicholas’ eyes followed his every movement, his wolf bristling slightly at anyone getting too close to his sleeping mate, but his growl was low, almost restrained. Maki didn’t flinch, he knew Nicholas well enough to understand it wasn’t a threat, just instinct.
The moment the tray hit the bedside table, (Y/n)’s lashes fluttered. She stirred, her hand twitching before she blinked her eyes open. For a second, she looked disoriented, until the scent of food reached her, and her stomach betrayed her with a loud rumble. Jake laughed softly. “Guess that woke her up.” Nicholas’ entire demeanor softened, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out but didn’t want to startle her. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re awake.”
(Y/n) rubbed her eyes, still groggy. “Barely,” she mumbled, then her gaze landed on Maki, and something flickered behind her eyes. “Eat,” Maki said kindly, his usual gentle smile still in place. “There’s plenty more in the main house if you want seconds.” “Thank you,” (Y/n) said softly, her voice carrying a strange undertone, distant, almost distracted.
Just as he was about to turn to leave, her gaze went glassy for a brief second. A vision, quick, like a flash of lightning. She saw a young boy, maybe eight or nine years old, sitting on the steps of an empty cabin. Alone. The air smelled of rain and pine, and though his eyes were downcast, he didn’t seem lost, just waiting. Then, another image followed: the same boy, now laughing as a taller, older wolf ruffled his hair. A bond, brotherly and deep, something core to who he was.
(Y/n) blinked rapidly, the image fading as quickly as it had come. Maki was still standing there, smiling kindly, unaware of what she’d seen. “Thank you,” she repeated, her voice softer now, tinged with something almost knowing. Maki nodded, still smiling. “Get some rest after you eat, okay?” He turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Jake sat back down on the floor, letting out a small sigh. “He seems nice,” he said. Nicholas didn’t answer right away. He was still watching (Y/n), his golden eyes gentler now. “Yeah,” he said at last. “They all are.” (Y/n) picked up a spoon, the smell of warm broth curling around her. “It smells amazing,” she murmured, glancing up at Nicholas. “Did he really cook all this just for us?” Nicholas nodded once. “He and Miyu, they’re out signature chefs,”
As she began to eat, slow but steady, the tension in the room eased a little. Jake finally stood and grabbed one of the rolls from the tray, sitting cross-legged beside the bed, while Nicholas stayed where he was, unmoving, watchful, his wolf calmer now that she was awake, safe, and eating. For the first time since that terrifying moment in the studio, the three of them sat together in a fragile peace, the air thick with the scent of food, comfort, and something new blooming quietly between them.
Soon enough, the tray was empty, only a few smudges of sauce and half-drunk tea left behind. (Y/n) let out a quiet sigh, sitting back against the pillows, but her eyes betrayed her. They lingered on the empty plates a little too long, tracing the edge of the bowl as if she were debating whether to admit she was still hungry. Jake caught the look instantly, a small smile tugging at his lips. He knew her better than anyone, knew that despite her magic, her pride was still very human. But before he could say anything, Nicholas’ low, steady voice broke the silence.
“You’re still hungry.” It wasn’t a question. (Y/n)’s eyes snapped up to him, cheeks warming. “I, no, it’s okay, I’m fine.” Nicholas tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes narrowing just a touch. “You want more.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you want to go to the main house, or do you want me to bring you something?” She blinked, startled by his matter-of-fact tone, and then gave a small, shy laugh. “I can walk, you know. I’m feeling better now.” “Good.” His lips curved, not quite a smile, but something close. “Then let’s go.”
Jake trailed after them, hands stuffed into his pockets, his tail flicking behind him as he glanced around the quiet village. The air was cool and smelled faintly of pine and smoke from the kitchen. When they stepped into the main house, the shift in atmosphere was immediate. Warmth hit (Y/n) first, not just from the hearth fire burning in the corner, but from the way everyone inside seemed to radiate a kind of easy, familiar comfort.
Laughter rolled through the space, soft and genuine. The smell of cooked meat and spices hung heavy in the air. Someone, probably Sana, was humming in the kitchen, while Sora and Aya sat at the long table, their hands intertwined with their mates’. The second they saw (Y/n), the chatter dimmed, then flared right back up, this time directed at her. “Oh, she’s awake!” Miyu exclaimed, rushing over with a bright smile. “Are you feeling better? You gave us quite the scare.”
(Y/n) nodded, caught off guard by the immediate attention but warmed by it nonetheless. “I am. Thank you, the food was amazing.” “That was mostly Maki,” Fuma called from the far end of the room, flashing a small, proud grin. (Y/n) smiled softly, recognizing the warmth from earlier and the faint flicker of the boy she’d seen in her vision. As she spoke, her gaze drifted around the room, to the wolves, their easy camaraderie, the tenderness between the mates, the faint pulse of something ancient yet familial in the air. Then her eyes caught on the pale-skinned woman leaning lightly into a tall wolf’s side.
Sora. (Y/n) froze for half a heartbeat, her magical senses sparking instinctively. She could feel it, the stillness in the air around her, the cool undertone beneath her scent. “You’re… a vampire,” (Y/n) said before she could stop herself. The room fell briefly quiet, everyone’s eyes flicking between them, unsure how the witch would react. But to everyone’s surprise, (Y/n)’s lips curved into a small, awed smile. “That’s incredible,” she said softly. “I’ve never seen a vampire in a pack before.” Sora chuckled, her fingers brushing EJ’s arm. “It’s not the most traditional arrangement,” she admitted. “But we make it work.” He continued.
(Y/n) nodded, still absorbing the sight, the gentle affection between species that, by all logic, should’ve hated one another. Yet here, it felt natural. For the first time in a long while, she felt something inside her loosen, that constant quiet dread that her presence would bring nothing but misfortune. Here, surrounded by wolves, a vampire, and warmth that felt like home, she allowed herself to breathe.
Nicholas stayed close beside her, his hand brushing the small of her back as if grounding her. She glanced up at him, and for once, he wasn’t the intimidating, brooding wolf she’d first met. He looked… calm. Safe. Home.
Nicholas leaned down slightly, his voice low, the kind of rumble that vibrated more in his chest than in the air. “Go on,” he said, tilting his head toward the kitchen. “You’ll find Maki in there. He’s the one who made the food.” (Y/n) looked up at him, hesitant for a moment. The air between them still buzzed with something unspoken, something electric. She didn’t want to step away from him, not yet, but she gave a small nod anyway. “Alright,” she said softly.
As she started toward the kitchen, Jake made a move to follow her, his tail flicking once in reflex. He didn’t even make it two steps before a low growl rolled through the room. Nicholas’ hand shot out, grabbing the collar of Jake’s shirt, yanking him backward with effortless strength. Jake froze mid-step, arms slightly raised in surrender, his tail drooping. “Really, man?” he muttered, half a whine in his tone.
The room went dead silent for half a beat, until Sana stepped out of the kitchen, holding a plate of fruit. The sight that greeted her was so unexpected she nearly dropped it. Nicholas, towering as always, had poor Jake caught like a misbehaving puppy, his fingers fisted in the fabric of the familiar’s collar. She blinked once… and then burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Nico!” she gasped between laughs, trying to steady the plate in her hands. “You look like you’re scolding a child who stole your food!”
That broke whatever composure anyone else had left. The pack erupted into laughter, Yuma leaned against the counter to keep from falling, Sora hid her grin behind EJ’s arm, and even Fuma’s usually serious face cracked into a rare smirk. Jake looked completely betrayed. “I didn’t even do anything!” Sana walked over, still laughing, trying to pry Nicholas’ hand off Jake’s collar. “Come on, wolf boy, let the poor dog go. He’s just being protective.”
Nicholas’ only response was a low, grumbling noise, halfway between annoyance and territorial instinct. He still hadn’t moved, though his grip loosened slightly. “Nich-o-las.” The way Sana said his name had that older-sister lilt to it, firm but teasing. Finally, two sets of heavier footsteps approached. Kei and Fuma, both wearing identical looks of amused exasperation, stopped in front of Nicholas. “Let him go,” Fuma said simply, arms crossed. Kei’s tone was less serious but just as commanding. “Now.” Nicholas met both their gazes, sighed deeply, and finally released Jake’s shirt, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “shouldn’t have tried to follow her anyway.”
Jake straightened his clothes, glaring at the wolf before glancing toward Sana for moral support. “See? This is why I prefer witches. They don’t grab you like you’re a chew toy.” That sent another round of laughter through the room. Sana smiled sweetly at Nicholas, patting his arm as she passed. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re jealous, Nico,” she teased. Nicholas growled softly but didn’t argue, his eyes flicking briefly toward the kitchen where (Y/n) had disappeared. Fuma sighed, shaking his head with a faint smirk. “We’re going to have our hands full with this one,” he muttered. Kei chuckled lowly, clapping a hand on Nicholas’ shoulder. “You think?”
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, (Y/n) stepped quietly through the doorway, following the sound of soft clattering and humming. She found two wolves inside, one familiar, Maki, the one who’d brought food to the cabin, and another she hadn’t met yet. The unfamiliar one turned at the sound of her footsteps, his expression lighting up instantly. “Oh, hi!” he said with the kind of cheerful warmth that filled a room. “You must be (Y/n)! I’m Taki.”
He had his hands halfway submerged in a sink full of soap and bubbles, sleeves rolled up, the faint scent of lemon and something distinctly wolfish clinging to him. Maki glanced up from where he was covering a tray of leftovers. “Hey, you’re up,” he said, his usual calm tone paired with a smile that reached his eyes. “Feeling better?” “A lot better, thanks to you,” (Y/n) replied softly.
The youngest wolf’s tail (if it had been visible) would have wagged with excitement. “That’s good! Do you want more food? There’s still plenty left, Miyu and I cooked enough to feed a small army.” (Y/n) couldn’t help but smile at his energy. “I’d love some,” she said, Taki and Maki both grinned wide, Maki grabbing a clean plate and handing it to her with the kind of enthusiasm only the youngest sibling type could muster. “Dig in! We’re all about making sure everyone eats too much around here,” he said proudly.
She thanked him and took a seat at the counter, serving herself a bit of stew and rice. Taki leaned his elbows on the counter beside her, curious eyes watching. “So,” he began, “how do you like the town so far? It’s small, but it grows on you, I’d say.” “It’s beautiful,” (Y/n) admitted between bites. “Cozy. It feels like… home, in a strange way.” Maki looked up from the counter, giving her a faint nod of agreement. “That’s what most of us thought when we first came here,” he said quietly. Taki smirked, nudging her playfully with his elbow. “And how’s Nico? He’s not driving you crazy already, right? Because, trust me, he’s usually worse when he’s not trying to impress someone.”
(Y/n) laughed, a genuine, warm sound that filled the kitchen. “No, he’s… actually been really sweet. Overprotective, maybe, but sweet.” Maki chuckled under his breath. “That sounds like him.” The witch couldn’t help but feel her chest warm at how natural it all felt, the laughter, the teasing, the lack of judgment in their voices. Not even a flicker of hesitation in their gazes.
It was strange and comforting all at once. For most of her life, people had treated her visions and her oracle side like a curse, something to fear. But these two, no, all these wolves, they just treated her like her. Like someone they’d known forever. Only Jake had ever made her feel that way before. She glanced between them as the conversation continued, her heart swelling with something she hadn’t felt in a long time, belonging.
(Y/n) stayed in the kitchen with the two youngest wolves for a while, the scent of herbs and warmth still lingering in the air. As she ate, she mostly listened, smiling as the two boys bounced off each other with the easy rhythm of brothers.
Taki had taken to pacing back and forth, waving his hands dramatically as he ranted about his university workload. “I swear, my professor is out to get me. Like, who assigns a twenty-page essay and expects us to show up to class with a full presentation the same week? It’s criminal!” Maki laughed quietly, shaking his head while stacking some bowls. “Maybe if you stopped procrastinating until the night before, it wouldn’t feel that bad.” Taki gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been struck. “Et tu, Maki?”
(Y/n) hid her laugh behind her hand, her shoulders shaking a little. It was comforting, the normalcy, the humor, the domestic feel of the whole scene. Maki then began talking about his work, his voice lifting with pride. “Last night was wild. I think almost everyone ordered my new dish. Miyu said a couple even asked if it was going to be a permanent item on the menu.” “That’s amazing,” (Y/n) said sincerely. “You must be really proud.” “I am,” Maki admitted, scratching the back of his neck, a shy grin spreading on his face. “It’s kind of weird, actually… seeing people enjoy something I made.” “You deserve it,” she said simply. And she meant it.
Before either of the wolves could respond, the kitchen door opened, letting in a faint chill and the softest trace of a familiar, cold scent. An elegant woman stepped in, her presence both serene and commanding, (Y/n) recognized her. The vampire. She crossed the kitchen gracefully, offering (Y/n) a warm smile that softened her sharp features. she spoke in a gentle tone that carried quiet strength. “I’m Sora. It’s really nice to finally meet you.” (Y/n) blinked, momentarily taken aback by the calm kindness in her eyes, not the kind of look she’d ever expected to receive from a vampire. “It’s nice to meet you too,” she said, her voice soft.
Sora stepped a little closer, her smile turning reassuring. “I know it’s probably overwhelming, all of this. Being here, being surrounded by wolves, all the new faces…” She paused, her gaze flicking briefly toward Maki and Taki, who both nodded in encouragement. “But I want you to know, this pack does everything it can to make you feel like you belong. I’m proof of that.” (Y/n) tilted her head slightly, her curiosity piqued. “You mean…?”
Sora chuckled softly. “I wasn’t exactly welcomed with open arms when I first came here. I was an outsider, a vampire living among wolves. But they didn’t just accept me; they made me part of their family.” Her expression softened even further. “You’ll see. This place has a way of healing people who never thought they’d find home.” The warmth in her words settled deep into (Y/n)’s chest, quieting that ever-present hum of unease inside her. For once, maybe, fate wasn’t cruel. She smiled faintly, nodding. “Thank you, Sora. That… actually means more than you think.”
Once (Y/n) finished the last bite on her plate, Taki was quick to snatch it from her hands, grinning. “I got it! You’re a guest,” he said, already turning toward the sink. “But I can…” she started, half rising from her seat. “Nope!” Maki cut in with a laugh, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Trust me, if you don’t walk back out there right now, Nicholas is going to lose it. Fuma’s practically wrestling him to keep him from storming in here.”
(Y/n) blinked, then let out a quiet, amused chuckle. “He’s that impatient?” Taki snorted. “He’s a wolf in love. Patience doesn’t exist.” That made her cheeks warm, and she shook her head, murmuring a soft “thank you” before turning toward the door. Sora fell into step beside her, the vampire’s cool presence balancing the lingering heat of the kitchen.
The moment they stepped back into the main room, the noise softened, laughter, the hum of conversation, the crackle from the fireplace. The home smelled of cedar and warmth, of family. Sora gave her a little nudge, smiling knowingly. “Go on,” she whispered. Then the vampire crossed the room toward Euijoo, who immediately wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close with a tenderness that made the scene almost glow. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, murmuring something only she could hear, and Sora’s soft laugh filled the air.
(Y/n) couldn’t help but smile, that kind of love, that quiet devotion, it was beautiful. And then her eyes drifted. Nicholas was standing by the entryway, his arms crossed, his expression caught somewhere between irritation and relief. Fuma was beside him, looking more than ready to let go of the metaphorical leash.
When Nicholas’ gaze found hers, everything else seemed to fall away. His sharp posture eased instantly, shoulders relaxing as that familiar warmth bled into his eyes. That same look, the one she had seen in Euijoo’s, the one filled with fierce affection and something deeper, rawer, and far older than words.
Her heartbeat quickened, but it wasn’t fear. It was the strange, inevitable pull of fate, two souls drawn toward each other, caught in that silent recognition of mine. Nicholas didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His gaze said it all. And for the first time since her vision, (Y/n) felt something new settle into her chest. Not dread, not uncertainty, but safety.
Nicholas could barely contain the restless energy in his chest. Every instinct screamed for him to pull her into his arms, to hold her against him and breathe her in, reassure himself she was real, safe, his. But he fought it back, muscles tense beneath his skin. He didn’t want to scare her, not when everything that had happened today was already so much.
When she stepped closer, her eyes soft, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at her lips, Nicholas thought his heart might actually stop. And then, she reached for him. Her fingers brushed his, then intertwined, warm and small in his calloused hand. The world narrowed down to that single point of contact. He followed her wordlessly as she led him out of the main house, his chest tight with quiet joy. She was holding his hand. Her heartbeat was calm, trusting, and every step she took beside him soothed something deep inside his wolf.
She called over her shoulder, “Come on, Jake!” Nicholas’ jaw clenched. He almost groaned aloud. Of course the mutt was coming. His grip on her hand tightened slightly before he caught himself, forcing a deep breath through his nose. She’s holding your hand, idiot. Don’t ruin it.
When they reached the cabin, the soft light spilling through the windows felt almost too intimate. (Y/n) immediately moved toward the bed, sitting down with an ease that told him she was finally regaining her strength. She patted the space at the other end, looking up at him expectantly. “Sit,” she said simply. Nicholas hesitated for half a second, his heart tripping over itself at the casual command. Then he obeyed, lowering himself onto the edge of the bed, careful to keep a respectful distance, even though every cell in his body screamed to close it.
Jake, ever the convenient nuisance, poked his head in from the doorway. “I’m gonna crash in the other room, yeah? Don’t burn the place down,” he teased lightly before disappearing, his tail flicking once behind him. The click of the door shutting was the sweetest sound Nicholas had ever heard. Finally, finally, they were alone. He turned his head, studying her in the quiet. Her eyes were half-lidded with exhaustion but still shone with that strange, unbreakable spark. He wanted to reach out, to trace his thumb along her jaw, to memorize every inch of the woman fate had given him. Instead, he just smiled, small, almost shy, and murmured, “You should rest. I’ll stay right here.” Because for the first time in his life, Nicholas didn’t need to be anywhere else.
(Y/n) shook her head, saying that first she needed to tell him about her vision. She wasn’t entirely sure of what she had seen, she just knew there was blood, so much of it, and a body lying unconscious on the floor. It might have been Nicholas, but she wasn’t too sure of it. Nicholas listened carefully, every word she spoke tightening something in his chest. Once she seemed finished, he asked quietly if she knew what it meant.
She shook her head again, running a hand through her hair. “Blood sometimes means addition,” she explained softly, her voice trembling. “Like something new is coming, something that changes the path of fate. Other times it means literal blood, that someone will be seriously hurt, or even die.” She looked down, her shoulders sinking slightly. “The visions have been intense, but I can’t exactly say I know if this one was good or bad.”
Nicholas leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his golden eyes fixed on her. “You saw blood,” he repeated quietly. “And a body. Maybe me?” (Y/n) hesitated, biting her lip. “I, I’m not sure. It felt like you, but sometimes visions blur things. I can’t always tell what’s real and what’s symbolic.” Nicholas nodded slowly, though his jaw tightened. “And you don’t know if it means something bad?”
She shook her head again. “Blood isn’t always death,” she murmured. “Sometimes it means change. Or a new bond. Sometimes it’s just pain, not an ending, but a beginning. But I don’t know. It felt… heavy. It felt real.” The silence that followed was thick, the kind that pressed on their lungs. Then Nicholas spoke, his voice low but steady. “Then we’ll figure it out,” he said, tone firm and unwavering. “I don’t care what it means, good or bad. We’ll deal with it together.”
(Y/n) looked up at him, surprised by the conviction in his words. “Together?” she asked, almost whispering. He nodded once, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You think I’m gonna let some vision scare me away? Not a chance.” He reached out, hesitating for a moment before taking her hand in his. His palm was warm, steady, and something about the touch grounded her. “You’re my mate,” he said simply. “Whatever’s coming, I’m not going anywhere.”
Her eyes softened, but the worry didn’t vanish entirely. “I just… don’t want you to get hurt, Nicholas. If it’s you I saw…” He gave a small, quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve had worse than a little blood. But if fate wants to take a swing at me, it’s gonna have to go through both of us first.” Something inside her eased at that, not because the fear was gone, but because she suddenly knew she didn’t have to carry it alone.
(Y/n) looked down, her fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt as she bit her lip softly. She suddenly realized something she hadn’t thought of before, she didn’t have any other clothes. Not even pajamas. She and Jake hadn’t exactly planned on staying in the village, so she’d only packed what she needed for work.
Her eyes flicked up to Nicholas, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Um… I just realized,” she started, her voice small, “I don’t actually have anything else to wear. Do you think maybe one of the girls would let me borrow something?” Nicholas blinked, and then a small, knowing smile spread across his lips as understanding dawned on him. “They probably would,” he said, leaning back a little, that familiar teasing glint sparking in his golden eyes. “Or…” He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “You could borrow something of mine.”
(Y/n) let out a soft, scandalized laugh, reaching out to lightly smack his hand as he pretended to stretch it toward her. “Behave,” she said, trying to sound stern but failing to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “But… maybe a warm shirt wouldn’t hurt.” Nicholas chuckled quietly, the sound low and rich. “A warm shirt, huh? I think I can manage that.” He stood, straightening his hoodie before walking toward the door. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” (Y/n) watched him leave, shaking her head fondly. She didn’t know why, but her heart was racing faster than it should have.
Once Nicholas reached the main house, he pushed open the door, instantly met by the comforting hum of chatter and laughter from the pack inside. Aya, Sora, and Sana were sitting on the couch, chatting about something, while Kei, Jo and EJ were talking quietly near the stairs. The second the girls saw him, all three pairs of eyes turned his way, Aya the first to speak, her tone curious. “You look like a man on a mission, Nico. What’s up?”
Nicholas rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, (Y/n) didn’t pack clothes. She didn’t think she’d be staying here, so… I came to grab her something to wear. I was gonna lend her one of my hoodies, but she probably needs, uh, pants too.” The way the girls looked at each other made him instantly regret his wording. Sora and Sana both tried to suppress smiles, while Aya snorted into her sleeve. “Oh, so she’s already borrowing your clothes?” Sora teased, her tone sing-song and mischievous. Nicholas gave her a deadpan look. “She needs something to sleep in,” he muttered.
Aya laughed softly, getting up from her spot and walking over to him. “Relax, lover boy. I’ve got a pair of sweatpants that might fit her.” She disappeared into one of the side rooms, returning a minute later with a pair of soft grey pants in hand. “They’re loose and comfy, should work, might be a bit too long though.” Nicholas nodded, grateful. “Thanks, Aya. Appreciate it.” She handed him the pants with a smile. “Tell her she’s welcome to raid our closet anytime she wants. It’s nice having another girl around.”
Nicholas smiled faintly, taking the sweatpants and heading upstairs to grab one of his hoodies, black with a faint wolf emblem stitched on the sleeve. He gave it a quick sniff to make sure it was clean before hurrying back toward the cabin. Aya called out after him, laughing. “Good luck, lover boy!”
Nicholas didn’t even turn around, though his ears were burning red. He muttered something under his breath about meddling packmates as he jogged back through the cool night air, clutching the hoodie and sweatpants like they were precious cargo.
When he stepped back into the cabin, (Y/n) looked up from where she sat on the bed, a small smile spreading across her face. “That was fast,” she teased. Nicholas held up the clothes proudly. “Told you I’d find something.” She accepted them with a warm smile. “Thank you, Nicholas.” “Anytime,” he said softly, watching her with a look that was equal parts fondness and awe. He didn’t say it, but in that moment, he’d have brought her the entire wardrobe of the pack if it meant seeing that smile again.
(Y/n) walked over to the small bathroom connected to the room, closing the door behind her. She took a moment to breathe, her hands brushing over the fabric of the clothes Nicholas had brought her. Aya’s sweatpants were soft and a bit too long, pooling slightly at her ankles, but that didn’t matter, they were warm, and they smelled faintly like lavender detergent.
The hoodie, though, was something else entirely. It was thick, cozy, and smelled like Nicholas, earthy, smoky, and musky, like pine forests after rain. The scent surrounded her the moment she slipped it on, wrapping her in a strange sense of safety and comfort. She wasn’t sure if it was the hoodie itself or the thought of it being his that made her heart feel so full.
She pulled her hair free from the hood and turned to glance at herself in the small mirror above the sink. The sight made her smile softly. She looked so small in his clothes, the sleeves covering her hands entirely. When she walked back out, Nicholas was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze instantly finding her the second the door opened. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe.
His hoodie hung loosely on her frame, the sleeves too long, the hem reaching mid-thigh, and the faint scent of his own wolf coming off of her made something primal inside him stir. His wolf practically purred, proud and content. Ours, it whispered in the back of his mind. A slow grin spread across his lips, softer than most people ever saw from him. “You look…” he paused, stepping closer until he was just a few inches away, eyes gleaming playfully, “…way too cute for this world.”
(Y/n) laughed, rolling her eyes just as he reached out and tugged the hood up over her head, the movement light and teasing. The hood almost fell over her eyes, making her look even smaller, and Nicholas couldn’t help but chuckle. “See?” he teased, gently adjusting the hood so she could peek out again. “Too cute.” (Y/n) pushed at his chest lightly, trying to hide her blush but failing miserably. “You’re impossible, you know that?” “Yeah,” Nicholas admitted with a small smirk, his voice low, “but you like me anyway.” She gave him a mock glare, but the corners of her lips twitched upward, betraying her amusement. “Maybe just a little.”
Nicholas’ grin softened into something more genuine, more tender. He looked down at her for a long moment, committing the sight to memory, her in his hoodie, her laughter still hanging softly in the air, the warmth of the dimly lit cabin wrapping around them both. His wolf settled peacefully in his chest, for the first time in years feeling entirely at ease.
“Get some rest,” he murmured, stepping back slightly, his tone still playful but gentler now. “You’ve had a long couple of days.” (Y/n) nodded, pulling the hood down again just to tease him, and climbed into bed. Nicholas sat down beside her, leaning back against the headboard, watching as her eyes grew heavier by the minute.
When she finally drifted off to sleep, the faintest smile still curved her lips, his scent surrounding her completely. Nicholas stayed awake a little longer, quietly keeping watch, his wolf satisfied and proud, his mate, here, safe, and wrapped in his scent.
~~~
The next day dawned quietly over the village, sunlight slipping through the trees and casting soft golden lines across the forest floor. Life in the packhouse returned to its usual rhythm, laughter spilling through the open windows, the smell of breakfast drifting from the kitchen, and the low hum of voices filling the air.
(Y/n) was feeling much better. Whatever exhaustion or unease had clung to her the day before was gone, replaced by her usual confidence, and mischief. She was back to teasing Nicholas, which didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. As she stood by the counter, helping Aya and Miyu dry the breakfast dishes, Nicholas walked past, pretending not to notice her. That only made (Y/n) grin wider. She called after him, her voice playful and sweet.
“Hey, wolf boy! Forget to say good morning?” Nicholas turned, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I didn’t forget,” he said smoothly, “just waiting for you to say it first.” (Y/n) gasped dramatically, hand over her heart. “Excuse me? Pretty sure I deserve a ‘good morning’ after I kept you from snoring through the night.”
That earned a few laughs from around the room. Jo choked on his drink, trying to hide it, while Kei and Yuma exchanged amused looks. Even Sora and Miyu giggled quietly to each other. “Snoring?” Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “I don’t snore.” “Sure you don’t,” (Y/n) teased, her grin widening. “Do too,” Harua muttered under his breath as he walked past, earning himself a pointed glare from Nicholas and more laughter from everyone else.
The teasing, the smiles, it was good. It meant (Y/n) was settling in, and Nicholas could feel his chest loosen just a bit seeing her laughing again. Kei and Yuma exchanged a glance, a silent understanding between them. If she was joking like this, she must really be feeling better.
But beneath the easy rhythm of breakfast chatter, Nicholas felt something else, something quieter. A faint tension that pulled at the edges of his mind. It wasn’t from (Y/n) this time. When the group began getting ready to leave for the studio, Nicholas caught sight of Taki sitting on the porch steps, staring off toward the woods. His shoulders were tense, his usual bright energy dulled.
Nicholas hesitated a moment, then walked over, leaning against the porch railing beside him. “You okay, kid?” Taki looked up, startled, and quickly smiled, too quickly. “Yeah, of course. Just tired, that’s all.” Nicholas studied him, crossing his arms. “You sure?” Taki nodded, eyes darting away. “Yeah, really. I’m fine.” Nicholas didn’t buy it for a second. He could sense it, the younger wolf’s energy felt off, clouded by something heavy. But he also knew pushing wouldn’t get him anywhere. He sighed softly, standing straight. “Alright,” he said, though his tone made it clear he didn’t believe him. “But if something’s wrong, you come to me. Got it?” Taki nodded again, trying to smile. “Got it.”
As Nicholas turned back toward the car, he spotted Jo and Sana talking quietly near the side of the house. An idea sparked. He walked over to them, lowering his voice. “Hey,” he said, glancing briefly back toward where Taki sat, “can you two try to spend some time with him at uni? He’s been off lately, and I don’t like it, something’s wrong.” Jo frowned slightly, nodding. “We don’t have any classes together, so it’s hard to run into him, but…” He looked toward Sana, who instantly understood.
“I can try,” she said softly. “We have the same campus area, I’ll check in on him whenever I can.” Nicholas gave her a grateful nod. “Thanks. That’s all I’m asking.” He wasn’t sure what was wrong with Taki, but his instincts told him it was something bigger than the boy was letting on. Still, there wasn’t time to press further, not today.
As Nicholas, Kei, Yuma, Jake and (Y/n) packed into the car for another day at the studio, (Y/n) leaned her head against the window, humming softly to herself. Nicholas glanced at her reflection in the glass, calm, beautiful, and so very unaware of the storm quietly building beneath the surface of their peaceful lives.
~~~
Once again, (Y/n) was working on perfecting another makeup look on Nicholas, or at least trying to. It was hard to focus when the wolf sitting in front of her seemed determined to test her patience and her self-control. Nicholas leaned forward just slightly, the glint of mischief in his golden eyes unmistakable. “You’ve been staring at my face for a while now,” he said, voice low and teasing. “You sure it’s just for makeup purposes?”
(Y/n) tried not to smile, failing miserably as she dipped the brush back into the powder. “You’re lucky I need you for this project,” she said evenly, though the faintest amusement played in her tone. “Lucky,” he echoed, leaning in closer still. “I’d say you’re the lucky one, my witch.” (Y/n) raised an eyebrow, pretending to focus on his eyeliner. “Oh? And why’s that?” Nicholas’ smirk widened. “Because you get to stare at me all day.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed. “You’re insufferable.” “I’m honest.”
She tried to continue working, but the air between them had shifted, charged, playful, a little dangerous. Nicholas’ gaze dropped to her lips, his wolf howling quietly in his chest. He leaned in, slow enough for her to stop him, yet bold enough to make her heart skip a beat. He licked his lips, his breath brushing her skin. For a moment, the world felt suspended, her hand stilling, their faces barely inches apart. Then, just as their lips were about to touch, (Y/n) brought her hand up, her palm resting against his cheek. Her fingers were soft, her touch feather-light.
Nicholas’ heart thundered in his chest, until she shifted her grip, thumb and forefinger pressing against his chin, and she gently but firmly pulled him back. “Sorry, wolf boy,” she said, smirking up at him, her voice a smooth mix of tease and command. “It’s not gonna be that easy.” Before he could react, she patted his cheek, almost mockingly sweet, and turned on her heel, walking away with her head held high. Nicholas blinked, his wolf somewhere between impressed and infuriated. He ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath, “You’re going to be the death of me.”
A while later, Nicholas’ smirk had faded, replaced by the sharp edge of possessiveness that came so naturally to him. Across the room, Jake was laughing about something with (Y/n), and even though Nicholas knew there was nothing romantic about it, he couldn’t stop the growl building in his chest.
When (Y/n) stepped out of the room for a moment to grab something, Nicholas seized his chance. He moved fast, cornering Jake near one of the tall studio shelves. The wolf’s shadow loomed large, his sharp gaze cutting through the air like a blade.
Jake froze, his tail nearly bristling in instinctive defense, though he tried to keep his composure. Nicholas leaned in close, his scent heavy with warning, his voice low and gravelly. “Leave us alone for a while, yeah?” he said, the deep rumble of his growl vibrating in his chest. Jake swallowed hard, his golden retriever instincts screaming do not challenge the predator. “I wasn’t”
“Don’t you dare try anything,” Nicholas interrupted, voice low, dangerous. His eyes glowed faintly, the gold of his wolf seeping through. “She belongs to me.” The words had barely left his mouth when a familiar voice cut through the tension, smooth, confident, laced with amusement. “Oh, wolfie,” (Y/n) said, walking back into the room, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t you know it’s the other way around?”
Nicholas turned, startled, his wolf instantly calming at the sound of her voice. (Y/n) closed the distance between them, her steps slow and deliberate. When she reached him, she reached up and grabbed his tie, her fingers curling around the fabric as she tugged him down until their faces were only inches apart. “You belong to me,” she said softly, her smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
For a moment, Nicholas forgot how to breathe. The possessiveness that had burned through him moments ago melted into something entirely different, submission, devotion, the raw instinct to please his mate. He stared into her eyes, and for once, the usually confident wolf found himself completely disarmed. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice low, rough, his lips barely moving. “Guess I do.”
(Y/n) let go of his tie with a satisfied smile and brushed past him, leaving the wolf standing there, heart pounding and wolf purring deep inside his chest. Jake, now safely out of Nicholas’ reach, chuckled quietly. “Looks like she’s got you wrapped around her finger.” Nicholas shot him a glare, but even he couldn’t deny the truth of it. She did. Completely.
~~~
Later that afternoon, she felt a strange sense of déjà vu, standing once again in front of Nicholas, brush in hand, trying to fix the same spot she’d fixed yesterday. “This feels familiar,” she said dryly, brushing another layer of pigment across his lips. “Can you keep that damn tongue in your mouth? You’re ruining your makeup,” (Y/n) scolded, narrowing her eyes as she once again leaned in to fix the smudge Nicholas had caused.
The wolf sat there, completely unbothered, his smirk betraying exactly how much he was not taking her seriously. She dabbed the small brush against his lower lip with precision, trying not to get distracted by how close they were, or how his golden eyes seemed to glow every time she leaned in. “You know,” Nicholas said casually, voice low and smooth, “you say that like it’s a bad thing.” “Because it is,” she muttered, wiping the corner of his lip with a cotton pad, pretending not to notice how he was watching her mouth more than her eyes. “Hold still.”
He did, for about ten seconds. Then he licked his lips again. (Y/n) froze mid-motion, exhaling through her nose in pure frustration. “You did not just,” Nicholas tilted his head, looking up at her with that same teasing glint in his eyes. “If I do keep my tongue in my mouth,” he said, completely shameless, “you won’t pay any attention to me, and I like your attention.” Before she could respond, he moved, fast, fluid, wolf-like. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer until her balance tipped, and she ended up half in his lap.
Her breath hitched, eyes widening as he leaned forward slightly, his mouth close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek. “See?” he whispered, his tone softer now, coaxing. “Back where you belong, in my arms.” The words were barely audible, a rumble that carried straight from his chest to hers. (Y/n) blinked, her heart stuttering for just a moment before she caught herself. Her lips pressed into a firm line, eyes narrowing. “Quit playing around, Nicholas,” she said, pushing herself off his lap and straightening her clothes. “This is serious.”
He looked up at her, his playful expression faltering for a brief second, replaced by something uncertain, but before he could say anything, she had already turned on her heel and walked away. (Y/n) found Yuma on the other side of the room, bent over his sketches. She stopped beside him, still slightly flustered, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeve. “Is your brother always this damn…” she started, struggling to find the right word.
Yuma looked up, one eyebrow raised, his lips twitching into a grin. “Annoying? Infuriating? Flirtatious?” She sighed. “Yes. All of it.” Yuma laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Don’t worry, you get used to it. Eventually.” (Y/n) groaned, muttering under her breath, “I doubt that.”
From across the room, Nicholas watched them, his wolf torn between smug pride and the faint sting of her retreat. He wasn’t used to someone walking away from him, especially not someone who made his heart race the way she did. But as she laughed at something Yuma said, the corners of her mouth lifting, Nicholas’ smirk returned. Challenge accepted.
(Y/n) walked over to Jake after her talk with Yuma, ruffling the dog’s hair and scratching gently behind his ears as she smiled. The familiar wagged his tail, leaning into the affection, his golden retriever energy impossible to ignore.
Nicholas watched from where he sat, his jaw tightening slightly. The easy warmth in her touch toward Jake, that soft fondness, it made something ache inside him. He wasn’t jealous of the bond itself, but he couldn’t help wondering if he was too harsh around the edges for her. Should he smile more? Be gentler? Less teasing, maybe? Then again… no. Fate didn’t pair people who were supposed to pretend. Fate brought together opposites for balance, not imitation.
(Y/n) came back over, interrupting his thoughts as she placed a hand beneath his chin and tilted his face toward hers. “Finally,” she said with a teasing smile, “the lipstick’s dry. Now then, let’s keep going with your eyes. Think you can behave for that?” Her tone was playful, challenging. And Nicholas never turned down a challenge. He moved faster than she expected, standing and stepping closer, close enough that the air between them shifted. His hand landed on the wall beside her head, his other hand lightly resting on her waist. His breath brushed her skin, warm and steady.
“Am I not behaving now?” he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. His golden eyes glowed faintly as they met hers. “You really think you can tease a wolf and get away with it, witch?” (Y/n)’s heart skipped, but she didn’t back down. “Maybe I like testing limits,” she replied softly, though her pulse betrayed her calm tone. Nicholas leaned in just slightly closer, close enough for her to feel the heat of his skin. “Careful,” he whispered, “you might find out what happens when you push too far.” For a moment, the world seemed to still. The air around them was charged, their breathing shallow, both caught between instinct and restraint.
Then (Y/n) pressed a hand against his chest, steady but not forceful. “You should sit down, wolf boy,” she said, her voice softer now, though the edge of amusement never left it. “Or I might start to think you actually enjoy this.” He stepped back, letting her go, but the smirk stayed on his lips. “Maybe I do.”
“You know, your lips look a bit dry, allow me to help you with that,” Nicho said before diving in. (Y/n) gasped as his lips landed on hers. She had been working on his makeup all morning, yet she never thought his lips would be so soft. She couldn’t help but reciprocate the kiss as his lips worked on hers. He was like a starving man finally getting some food. He wouldn’t stop, and neither would she. Her hands tangled in his hair, his slightly long, recently bleached hair.
His arms were wrapped tight and secure around her, his body warm and toned. Neither one could have enough. They were insatiable as they kissed. Once she finally pushed him away, just slightly, she was out of breath. Nicholas wiped away some lipstick from the corner of her mouth, a cocky smirk on his lips, yet his eyes were shining like never before. “There, now I’ll behave, darling,” “Nicholas, you-,” her words got stuck in her throat, no malicious or annoyed words would escape as she still only thought of how his lips felt against hers. Nicholas sat down once again, leaving (Y/n) leaning against the wall. She knew he could hear how fast her heart was beating, she knew he was enjoying it too, but she didn’t mind, not right now.
~~~
The sun was high above the university campus, casting long shadows across the courtyard as students hurried between classes or lounged on the grass. It was lunchtime, the air buzzing with chatter and laughter. Sana walked through the crowd, her bag slung over her shoulder, searching for a familiar face. She wasn’t particularly close with Taki, not like Jo was, but now, she’d made it her mission to look out for him. She and Jo had talked about him after Nicholas had mentioned worrying about the younger wolf.
Sana had asked her mate if he understood what Nicholas meant, and Jo had sighed softly, the protective edge of his voice barely contained. “Out of all of us, Taki’s had it the hardest,” he’d explained. “His wolf’s… different. He can’t shift like the rest of us, something is blocking him. He struggles to control it the wolf in other ways as well, and people can tell he’s not like them. They notice things, his eyes, his reactions, and they don’t understand. I think he’s been getting picked on again.”
The words stuck with her. So now, during her free period, she searched the crowded courtyard, determined to find him. It didn’t take long. At the far end of the open quad, near one of the old stone walls, she spotted a group of guys walking away, laughter trailing behind them. Something in the sound made her stomach twist. When the group moved, she saw him, Taki, on the ground. His bag was tossed a few feet away, his lunch scattered across the pavement.
Her heart lurched. “Taki!” she called, rushing over. The boys turned briefly before walking off faster, pretending not to hear. She dropped to her knees beside him. His lip was split, and a bruise was already forming along his jaw. Worse, his hands, he was clutching them close to his chest, trembling. She caught a glimpse of sharp claws glinting under the sunlight before he tucked them away, ashamed.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sana said softly, her voice steady even though she felt like screaming. “It’s just me.” Taki looked up, forcing a weak smile. “Sana… hey. I’m fine, really. They were just, uh, joking around.” “Joking around?” she repeated, frowning. “Taki, jokes don’t make people bleed.” She reached up, brushing his hair back gently so she could see the bruise better. He flinched a little but didn’t pull away.
He looked embarrassed, more than hurt. “I didn’t mean to let it happen,” he muttered. “They just… said some things, and I felt my wolf pushing forward. I tried to hold it in, I really did, but they could tell something was off. And then they started pushing, calling me names, and I…” He stopped himself, voice cracking.
Sana’s chest tightened. “They don’t know what I am,” he continued quietly, “but they know. You know? I can see it in their eyes. They can tell I’m not normal. And when I can’t hide it, when my claws come out or my eyes change, they look at me like I’m… a monster.” For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sound of students laughing and talking nearby felt far away, like it belonged to another world entirely.
Sana reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch gentle but firm. “You’re not a monster, Taki,” she said. “You’re one of the kindest people here. If they can’t see that, that’s their problem, not yours.” He blinked up at her, his eyes glassy. Then, unexpectedly, a small, shaky laugh escaped him. “You sound like Nicholas,” he said quietly. “He says the same thing.” Sana smiled softly. “Guess you’ve got a whole pack who believes in you, huh?” That earned a real smile from him, tired but genuine.
“Come on,” she said, standing up and offering him her hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up before we go home, if they see you like this? I think we’ll have a whole pack coming here to fight, and I don’t want to be responsible for that chaos.” Taki chuckled, the sound still weak but warmer now. He hesitated, then took her hand. As she helped him stand, she could feel him trembling, his wolf was restless, still close to the surface. But she squeezed his hand, grounding him, letting him know he wasn’t alone.
Together, they walked toward the nearest bathroom building, leaving the chaos of the courtyard behind them. The walk was quiet, the tension fading slowly with every step. When they reached the bathroom, Sana handed him a wet paper towel, letting him clean his face while she stood by the door, keeping an eye out. “You know,” she said softly after a moment, “Nicholas worries about you a lot. I think he sees something of himself in you.”
Taki looked over, one corner of his mouth lifting. “That’s… kind of terrifying,” he said, trying to joke. She laughed quietly. “Maybe. But he also sees strength, Taki. The kind that doesn’t come easy. You just have to stop fighting yourself long enough to find it.” He nodded slowly, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His claws had receded, his eyes back to normal. “Thanks, Sana,” he said after a moment. “For helping me.” She smiled softly. “Anytime.”
~~~
Sana leaned back in her seat on the bus, her phone still in her hand after ending the call with Jo. He’d asked if something had happened, and she had almost told him, almost spilled everything right then and there. But one glance at the younger wolf sitting beside her—head bowed, bruised, eyes distant, made her stop. “I’ll tell you when you get home later,” she’d said instead, her voice calm but firm. Jo hadn’t pushed, only told her he loved her and to be safe.
The bus rattled quietly down the road toward the outskirts of the town, the ride unusually silent. Taki sat with his hood pulled up, avoiding every curious glance thrown their way. His hands fidgeted in his lap, and when a couple of students across the aisle whispered something and looked at him, his shoulders tensed. Sana’s eyes flashed, sharp as glass, and she shot them a glare so cold they immediately turned away. He noticed it and gave a small, grateful smile. “You didn’t have to do that,” he mumbled. “Yeah,” she said softly, “I did.”
The rest of the ride passed in silence. The closer they got to the forest and the hidden road that led toward the pack’s village, the more the tension seemed to ease off his shoulders. Home always had that effect on them, even if home sometimes came with difficult conversations. When the bus finally came to a stop near the path leading into the woods, Taki stood hesitantly. Sana nudged him forward with a gentle smile. “Come on, you’re safe now.”
They walked the rest of the way through the forest path. The air was crisp and familiar, carrying the scent of pine and earth. The village slowly came into view, its cozy cabins glowing with warm afternoon light. Standing at the edge of the clearing, waiting for them, was Euijoo. Sana wasn’t surprised, Jo must have told him.
The Alpha’s eyes were serious, scanning the path as they approached. His expression softened the moment he saw Sana, his protective instincts flaring for a brief second as he looked her over for any sign of harm. When he saw none, his attention shifted to Taki.
The young wolf looked smaller than usual, his shoulders hunched under invisible weight. His face was bruised, lip split, and his scent carried the faint tang of frustration and shame. “Taki,” Euijoo said softly, stepping forward. His tone wasn’t stern, it was heartbreakingly gentle. The second youngest looked up, guilt swimming in his golden-brown eyes. “EJ, I, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He didn’t get to finish. The Alpha reached out, pulling him into a tight embrace. The motion startled him, but then Taki melted into it, his body shaking slightly as Euijoo’s arms wrapped around him, protective and warm.
“Don’t apologize,” Euijoo said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “You didn’t do anything wrong, do you understand me? Nothing.” For a long moment, the only sound was the wind through the trees and the soft, almost childlike way Taki clung to his Alpha’s shirt. Sana stood nearby, watching the scene unfold, her chest tightening at the sight. It was such a raw display of care, the kind that only existed between family, even if not by blood.
When Euijoo finally pulled back, he placed his hands on Taki’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Taki hesitated, his throat tight. He looked down, muttering, “It’s fine. Just… some guys from school.” “Doesn’t sound fine,” Euijoo replied. His voice was calm but firm, the kind of tone that carried quiet authority. “You know you can talk to me, right? To any of us?”
Taki nodded weakly. “I just don’t want to be a burden.” Sana stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re not a burden, Taki. You never were.” Euijoo gave her a small nod of gratitude before turning back to his pack brother. “Why don’t you go inside? Get cleaned up, eat something. We’ll talk when you’re ready.” Taki nodded again, his eyes glassy, and walked slowly toward one of the cabins.
Once he was out of earshot, Euijoo exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Jo told me you’d bring him home early,” he said, looking at Sana. “He didn’t say why, but I had a feeling. Thank you, for looking after him.” Sana shook her head. “He’s family,” she said simply. “That’s what we do.” The Alpha smiled faintly at that, his expression softening. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s exactly what we do.”
He looked down the path toward the cabin where Taki had disappeared. “He’s been trying so hard lately. Sometimes I forget he’s still so young. We’ll have to make sure he knows we’re here for him, every one of us.” Sana nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “He knows,” she said softly. “He just needs to be reminded sometimes.” And with that, the two of them walked toward the main house together, the air around them filled with the quiet, comforting scent of the pack, home, safety, and belonging.
~~~
The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, and the pack house glowed softly in the dark, light spilling out from its windows onto the grass. Normally, this hour was filled with laughter, the hum of voices, maybe a movie playing in the background. But tonight, the air was heavy. When the sound of a car pulling up broke the silence, everyone turned. Kei, Yuma, Nicholas, (Y/n), and Jake stepped through the door. It didn’t take long for them to realize something was off, the mood inside was tense, quiet in that eerie way that comes just before a storm.
Kei was the first to ask, “What happened?” His tone carried the authority of an older brother, but the worry in his eyes betrayed the calm front. It was Jo who answered, standing near the couch with his arm around Sana. “Taki got jumped,” he said simply. The two words were enough to ignite chaos. “What?” Kei’s voice was sharp, and before anyone could explain further, Nicholas had already taken a step forward, his eyes glowing faintly gold. His wolf was clawing to get out.
“Who?” Nicholas demanded, the growl in his chest deep and dangerous. “Some idiots from campus,” Sana answered quietly. “He didn’t want to fight back. He said he didn’t want to hurt anyone.” That broke something inside Nicholas. His breathing quickened, muscles tensing, the growl in his throat deepening. His claws began to form, eyes burning brighter. Kei moved fast, stepping in front of him, but Nicholas’ fury was like wildfire, unstoppable once it had caught.
Until (Y/n) moved. She didn’t hesitate. She reached for him, her hand finding his. “Nicholas.” Her voice was steady, calm, like water dousing flame. He froze. His chest rose and fell rapidly, but his eyes flicked to her. The fury in them softened slightly at the sound of her voice. “Anger won’t help him right now,” she said gently. “He needs his family. Not more fire.” Nicholas clenched his jaw, forcing his claws to retract, though it was clearly an effort. He squeezed her hand, grounding himself with her scent. “I just,” he started, but his voice broke with frustration. “He’s a kid. He doesn’t deserve this.” Kei placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “I know,” he said quietly. “We’ll handle it. Together.”
Across the room, Fuma stood near the back door, his fists tight at his sides. His face was unreadable, but the sharp scent of pine and smoke clung to him. Euijoo glanced at him. “You went out training again?” Fuma’s jaw tightened. “If you call knocking over three trees ‘training,’ then sure.” “Fuma,” Euijoo started, but the older wolf cut him off. “Don’t. I needed to burn it off before I did something stupid.” His tone was low, the anger still simmering beneath the surface.
At the table, Harua was quiet, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His brow was furrowed in thought. “We can’t just let this go,” he said finally. “But we can’t go after them either. Not unless we want more trouble for him.” Yuma nodded. “He’s already struggling enough at school. If they find out what we are,” “They won’t,” Kei interrupted firmly. “I’ll make sure of that.”
In the kitchen, the soft clatter of dishes offered the only normal sound in the house. Maki and Miyu were preparing food, the comforting aroma of rice and soup drifting into the room, but even that couldn’t mask the tension. Miyu glanced at the youngest wolf. “You’re quiet,” she said softly. Maki didn’t look up from the pot he was stirring. “I’m just… angry,” he muttered. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He never does. Why do people always have to be cruel to someone different?”
Miyu’s heart ached at the frustration in his voice. She reached out, brushing her hand over his shoulder. “Because they’re scared of what they don’t understand,” she said quietly. “But that’s why he has us. We protect our own.” He finally looked up, nodding, his eyes still stormy.
Back in the living room, Nicholas had finally sat down, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight. (Y/n) sat beside him, her fingers still intertwined with his, grounding him. EJ stood in front of them all, his Alpha presence calm but commanding. “No one leaves tonight,” he said firmly. “Not until we know Taki’s okay. Fuma, you’ll keep watch outside just in case those kids decide to follow him here, though I doubt they’d make it far.” Fuma gave a curt nod, already heading toward the door.
Nicholas finally spoke again, voice low and hoarse. “He’s just a kid, EJ. He’s been trying so hard to fit in. To shift, to study, to be like us. And they treat him like… like that.” His hand tightened around (Y/n)’s. “I should’ve been there.” EJ crouched slightly, meeting his eyes. “You can’t protect everyone all the time, Nico,” he said softly. “But you can make sure he knows he’s not alone. That’s what we do.”
(Y/n) looked at the Alpha, then back at Nicholas, her hand still warm in his. “He knows,” she said gently. “Because he has all of you. I’m been alone almost my entire life, as someone who’s always been an outsider, I can tell, he’s lucky to have you all,” “And now, you do too,” Sora said as she smiled at the witch.
~~~
The evening air was crisp, the kind that hinted at the coming change of seasons. The forest surrounding the pack’s village was alive with quiet sounds, crickets chirping, leaves rustling softly in the wind. Out on the porch of the main house, five girls sat huddled together under a thick blanket, mugs of tea warming their hands as they looked up at the night sky. Tonight, the stars seemed brighter than ever, the first streaks of the promised meteor shower already cutting faint lines across the dark expanse above them.
For the first time since she’d arrived, (Y/n) found herself alone with the other girls, Aya, Miyu, Sana, and Sora. She hadn’t realized how easily they all fit together until now. Aya, with her confident energy and bright laugh; Miyu, warm and nurturing, always making sure everyone was comfortable; Sora, calm but playful, teasing her mate whenever EJ wasn’t looking; and Sana, soft-spoken and kind, with the sort of gentle wisdom that only someone deeply in love could carry.
They made space for (Y/n) in the circle without hesitation, wrapping her in warmth and inclusion. It was strange, witches didn’t do this. Covens were colder, structured, more about power than companionship. But here, sitting with them, she felt something she hadn’t in a long time. Home. “So,” Aya said, breaking the quiet with a grin, “we have to ask… what’s it like?” (Y/n) blinked. “What’s what like?”
“Being with Nicholas,” Miyu chimed in, leaning forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You two have been orbiting each other like magnets all week.” (Y/n) laughed softly, setting her mug down beside her. “I’m guessing you all went through this with your mates too, didn’t you?” “Guilty,” Sora said immediately, raising her hand. “EJ used to glare at me for just excisting. Now he follows me around like a shadow.”
That made them all laugh, and even (Y/n) couldn’t hide her smile. She looked up at the stars, watching as another streak of light crossed the sky. “It’s… strange,” she admitted quietly. “He’s so intense. But not in a bad way. It’s like he sees everything. I’ve never met someone like that before.” Sana nudged her lightly with her shoulder. “That sounds a lot like love.” (Y/n) sighed, a small, nervous laugh escaping her. “Maybe. Kind of. I just…” Her voice trailed off. The others turned toward her, their smiles softening when they saw the look in her eyes.
“I’m scared,” she finally said. “Not of him, but of me. My oracle side, it’s unpredictable. It ruins things. Every time I let people close, something happens. People get hurt.” A quiet fell over the porch, not awkward, but heavy with understanding. It was Sora who spoke first, her voice steady but gentle. “Fate doesn’t put people together just to tear them apart. You saw something in your vision, didn’t you?” (Y/n) nodded slowly, eyes on her hands. “Blood. So much of it. I don’t even know what it means yet.” Aya reached over, taking her hand. “Then don’t face it alone. Whatever it means, we’ll face it together. You’re one of us now, oracle or not.”
Miyu nodded in agreement, her tone warm but firm. “We’ve all had our challenges with fate. But we learned that fear doesn’t stop it, it only makes you miss the good moments before the bad ones come.” Sana smiled softly. “And besides, Nicholas isn’t exactly the kind of guy to let fate scare him away. You should’ve seen Jo when I first met him. He was terrified, and look at him now.”
(Y/n) looked up, following Sana’s gaze toward the open yard. Down below, laughter filled the night. The boys were gathered around the basketball court, Jo, Maki, Yuma, Nicholas, and Fuma, who had returned from patrol not long ago. The sound of the ball hitting the pavement echoed through the clearing. Jake was among them, darting between the wolves with surprising speed, his tail wagging every time he managed to score a point.
(Y/n) smiled, her heart warming at the sight. The pack’s laughter mingled with the sound of crickets and the rustle of trees. For the first time, she didn’t feel like a visitor. She felt like she belonged. And maybe, she thought as she looked back up at the sky, fate hadn’t been cruel to her this time after all.
~~~
The date of the collaboration show drew closer with each passing day. The air around the pack village buzzed with energy, excitement, nerves, and the constant hum of preparation. (Y/n) and Jake had checked out of the hotel completely, moving into the village full-time. The comfort of the pack’s home was unmatched. But most of all, it satisfied Nicholas, more than he’d ever admit aloud. Just knowing she slept under the same roof, that he could hear her laughter drifting from the kitchen in the mornings, or feel her presence through the walls at night, settled his wolf in a way nothing else could.
She and Yuma worked tirelessly, their creative minds blending seamlessly. The studio’s main room had been turned into a whirlwind of fabrics, pins, threads, and half-finished designs. Kei and Nicholas filled their roles as models perfectly, Kei with his calm professionalism, and Nicholas, for once, with surprising restraint.
He still smirked every now and then when (Y/n) passed him a fabric sample or adjusted a collar, but he’d turned down the flirting. She needed to focus, and he could respect that, even if every instinct in him screamed to distract her. (Y/n) noticed the effort, though she never said anything. Instead, her heart softened more each day.
She’d grown comfortable here, with the pack’s warmth, the laughter that echoed through the houses, and the quiet strength that seemed to bind them all together. The other girls felt like sisters now; Aya’s confident teasing, Miyu’s steady kindness, Sora’s quiet guidance, and Sana’s cheerful honesty all wove around her like threads in a tapestry. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like an outsider. The nightmares and visions had gone quiet too, for now. She didn’t know if that was a sign of peace or a warning, but she allowed herself to enjoy the stillness. The calm before fate decided to turn again.
Meanwhile, at the university, Sana and Jo had made it their shared mission to help Taki. Sana sought him out every day at lunch, refusing to let him eat alone anymore. She didn’t push him to talk about what had happened, just sat with him, her chatter filling the silence, reminding him that he wasn’t alone.
Jo would find him in the afternoons during his free hour. The two wolves didn’t talk much either, but they didn’t need to, sometimes Jo would just sit beside Taki on a bench near the old oak trees, sketchbook in hand, quietly drawing while his younger brother stared at the sky. It was their silent way of saying we’ve got you.
~~~
The night before the big show, the pack once again gathered at Koyomi, their favorite refuge for both celebration and comfort. The restaurant smelled heavenly, a blend of roasted meats, simmering sauces, and sweet pastries, the kind of scent that lingered in the air like warmth itself.
Miyu and Maki had been in the kitchen since morning, working tirelessly alongside Jay. It was one of those rare nights where the restaurant was completely closed to outsiders; only those who knew of the supernatural world were allowed inside.
Lila had stopped by earlier in the day to help with the desserts, her laughter filling the kitchen as she teased Maki and Jay for being too serious about plating. When she was done, she left behind a tray of beautifully frosted tarts and a list of serving instructions taped to the counter before waving goodbye, promising to visit again soon.
Now, the long wooden tables were covered in plates of food and half-empty glasses, laughter echoing through the restaurant. For the first time in days, everyone looked relaxed. (Y/n) and Jake sat near the end of the table, right across from Harua and Fuma. The witch and the familiar had heard plenty of stories about Jay, but meeting him in person was something else, his calm, charming demeanor instantly put them at ease. He seemed to know everything that was going on without needing to ask, his dark eyes sharp but kind as he welcomed them to what he called the most chaotic family in town. “Welcome to the inner circle,” he said with a grin, raising his glass toward (Y/n). “I’d say brace yourself, but you’ve already survived Nicholas, so you’ll do fine.”
Jake burst into laughter, his tail giving a small flick before disappearing out of sight. (Y/n) tried to hide her amusement behind her glass, but Nicholas, sitting beside her, rolled his eyes, though even he couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Hey, I’m not that bad,” he muttered. “Sure,” Jay teased, leaning back in his chair. “And I’m not nocturnal.” The whole table erupted in laughter. EJ cracked a smile where he sat with Sora leaning against him.
Miyu emerged from the kitchen then, wiping her hands on a towel and announcing that dessert would be served soon. Maki followed right behind her, proudly carrying the tray of tarts Lila had prepared. As everyone began to eat again, (Y/n) looked around at the table, at the wolves, the vampires, her familiar, the humans, all of them together like one strange, mismatched family. The sound of their laughter filled her chest with a warmth she hadn’t felt in years. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t an outsider looking in.
She glanced at Nicholas beside her, his arm resting on the back of her chair, his head tilted slightly as he listened to Yuma and Kei argue about whose outfit was going to steal the spotlight tomorrow. His golden eyes caught hers for a second, and a small, private smile passed between them. Tomorrow would be big. Tomorrow would be chaos. But tonight, tonight was perfect.
A while later, after everyone had finished helping to clean the restaurant, tables wiped, dishes stacked, and laughter still echoing faintly in the air, Nicholas found himself quietly watching (Y/n) from across the room.
She was helping Miyu stack glasses behind the counter, her sleeves rolled up, her hair falling loosely over her face. The faintest tremor ran through her shoulders, and Nicholas caught it instantly, a shiver. He’d noticed it before, too; she always seemed to run cold, like her warmth was just a little harder to keep.
Without a word, he grabbed the jacket that hung over his chair, a thick black one she’d teased him about wearing even though it had looked very good on him, and walked over. (Y/n) was about to reach for another glass when she felt something warm and heavy settle across her shoulders. She turned her head, ready to protest, but the scent hit her before the words could. That familiar, grounding scent of pine and smoke and something uniquely him.
Her body relaxed instantly. The jacket was too big for her, but it was soft and warm, and the moment she slipped her arms into the sleeves, she felt as if she’d been wrapped in a piece of Nicholas himself. “You didn’t have to” she started, but her voice trailed off as he moved closer, standing just behind her, his presence radiating warmth that seemed to seep into her bones. “I did,” he said softly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
(Y/n) tilted her head up to look at him, her lips curling into a small, genuine smile. “Thank you,” she whispered, barely loud enough for anyone else to hear. Nicholas didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest, resting his chin lightly on the top of her head. His voice dropped to a low rumble, one that she could feel more than hear. “Anything for you.” And for a moment, the world felt still. The noise of the others faded into background warmth, laughter, clinking dishes, the hum of music, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was the steady rhythm of his heart against her ear, and the quiet realization that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
~~~
Night passed quicker than anyone expected, the hours slipping away beneath the hum of excitement, the buzz of preparation, and the electric current of anticipation that ran through everyone in the building.
The pack filled the front rows of the audience, a solid wall of warmth and loyalty. EJ sat tall in the center, his arm resting behind Sora, while Jo and Sana whispered quietly to each other, her hand resting on his knee, Harua and Aya taking thousands of picture hoping to use them for an article or two in the coming days. Maki, Taki, and Fuma were all discussing if this collab was some kind of competition or just something for fun. Kei’s and Nicholas’ names were on the program, the two wolves set to walk for the final collection of the night. Behind the curtain, it was chaos.
Backstage, the air was heavy with the scent of hairspray, fabric, and adrenaline. Models hurried from one fitting to another, designers barking last-minute instructions, assistants weaving through the crowd like currents of energy. Amid all that movement, (Y/n), Yuma, Kei, Nicholas, and Jake stood as a small, centered unit, calm in the storm.
Their designs stood out instantly. Where others had gone sleek, modern, and metallic, theirs felt alive, threads of nature and night weaved into silk and leather. (Y/n)’s pieces carried hints of her own magic, deep forest hues, threads that shimmered subtly under the lights like enchantments. Yuma’s designs mirrored them, elegant structure with a wild edge. It was cohesive in a way no one else had managed. And anyone who knew them could feel the connection between wolf and witch reflected in every stitch.
Nicholas stood before her now, tall and unmovable, letting her work. For once, he wasn’t teasing, wasn’t smirking. His expression was composed, eyes locked on her face as she focused on painting color onto his lips with the kind of concentration that made his chest ache. She leaned closer, carefully blending the edges, and for a rare moment, he didn’t even think about licking it off. He just… watched her.
(Y/n) stepped back, head tilted, examining her work. She focused on the way his warm brown eyes glowed faintly beneath the stage lights, the way the blonde hair framed his sharp features. He looked unfairly good, and worse, he knew it. “Stop looking at me like that,” she said softly, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “Like what?” he murmured, voice low, smooth, dangerously close. “Like you know exactly what you’re doing to me.”
Before he could reply, she leaned forward, quick, decisive, and kissed him. It was brief, a soft press of lips that stole his breath before she pulled back. Nicholas blinked, stunned. She had kissed him. (Y/n) smiled, her fingers still holding his chin, her eyes glinting with mischief. “If you work your ass off out there,” she whispered, “I’ll accept you as my mate officially.” He stared at her, pulse hammering, then gave a crooked smile that made her heart flutter. “I was already going to burn the stage for you, sweetheart,” he murmured. “But now I might set the whole damn building on fire.” She laughed, shaking her head, and pushed at his chest lightly. “Go get ready, wolfie.” Nicholas grinned, a feral, beautiful grin, as he turned toward the runway entrance. The challenge was set, and every inch of him was ready to prove himself worthy of his witch.
Kei and Nicholas were the final act, the ones meant to end the show with a statement. Backstage, the air was thick with tension and excitement. Kei cracked his knuckles once, rolling his shoulders as Yuma gave him a last approving nod. Nicholas stood beside him, calm but dangerous, his usual stoicism replaced by something sharper, a quiet confidence that hummed just beneath his skin.
When their cue came, Kei stepped out first. The lights hit him like sunlight breaking through clouds, and the crowd reacted immediately, gasps, murmurs, the flash of cameras. Kei knew how to move, every stride measured, commanding attention but never trying too hard. Yuma’s design, sleek, bold lines and a perfect balance of structure and softness, looked like it had been made just for him. He carried it with a touch of arrogance, a smirk that earned a few cheers from the audience.
Then Nicholas stepped out. The moment he did, the entire room changed. There was a collective inhale from the audience, a sound that rippled through the crowd like wind through trees. The lights found him instantly, the red and green of (Y/n)’s design catching and reflecting in a way that made him seem almost otherworldly. (Y/n)’s concept had been simple yet stunning: the beauty and danger of a rose.
The cropped crimson top clung perfectly to his chest, showing off the sculpted muscles beneath, the way his abs tensed with every slow, deliberate step. His arms, toned and inked with faint veins, caught the light like polished marble. The dark green pants sat low on his hips, the fabric flowing just enough to suggest movement, to echo the idea of petals caught in motion. A rose, dangerous, breathtaking, impossible to ignore.
Nicholas walked like he owned the world, every stride a mix of grace and predatory power. His expression stayed steady, eyes locked forward, sharp, golden, and hypnotic. The faintest smirk tugged at his lips as he reached the end of the runway, his aura radiating pure confidence. The crowd went wild.
(Y/n) stood backstage, watching, her heart thundering against her ribs. She’d designed that piece, every stitch, every line, but Nicholas was the one who brought it to life. Seeing him in it, the way he carried it, made her breath catch in her throat. Beside her, Jake let out a low whistle. “He’s eating that runway alive.” (Y/n) could only nod, unable to look away. Her wolf looked magnificent, untamed yet controlled, wild yet perfectly hers.
Out in the crowd, the pack couldn’t stop cheering.Almost all of them had their phones out, Fuma was laughing loudly, and EJ looked impressed, proud, almost emotional. Fuma leaned over from laughing, holding onto Maki on the shoulder with a grin. “Okay, I get it now. That’s why Nico’s been working out like a man possessed the last few weeks,” he joked. “Guy’s been preparing for this exact moment.” Harua smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah. Guess we know who he wanted to impress.”
At that moment, Nicholas reached the end of the runway, turned, and met (Y/n)’s gaze over the flashing lights and roaring applause. He didn’t need words, the look said it all. He had kept his promise. He had worked his ass off. And now, the only thing he wanted… was her.
Nicholas didn’t even wait for the applause to die down. The second his feet hit the floor backstage, he was already moving, purposeful, determined, every line of his body screaming one thing: mine. Before anyone could react, he strode straight up to (Y/n), scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing at all. She let out a startled yelp that turned into laughter, her hands pressing against his back as her hair brushed against his side.
“Nicholas!” she protested between giggles, her voice echoing in the hallway. “Borrowing my mate for the rest of my life,” he announced loud enough for Yuma, Kei, and Jake to hear, his tone smug, possessive, and so unapologetically happy it made the others burst out laughing. “Hey! We still have post-show photos, you lunatic!” Yuma called after him, half amused, half exasperated. But Nicholas didn’t even slow down.
He carried her through the maze of backrooms until he found an empty room and kicked the door closed behind them. The sudden quiet wrapped around them like silk, the muffled noise of the show fading, replaced by the sound of their breathing. He gently set her down, but she barely had time to take a single breath before he leaned in, his hands cupping her face, and kissed her. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was real.
The kind of kiss that carried all the teasing, all the tension, all the quiet moments they had stolen, finally unleashed. His lips moved against hers, soft at first, then deeper, hungrier, until she was clutching at the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer. When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Nicholas didn’t move away though, his forehead rested against hers, his chest rising and falling in time with hers.
Then he smiled. Not his usual smirk. Not his cocky, teasing grin. But a real smile. Bright, warm, open, the kind that stripped away every wall, every bit of the intimidating wolf persona he usually wore like armor. For the first time, (Y/n) saw the side of Nicholas that not many others did. The tough, brooding wolf was gone. In his place stood a lovesick puppy, eyes soft and glimmering with something dangerously close to adoration.
(Y/n) blinked at him, caught off guard by just how cute he looked. “Oh no,” she whispered with mock horror, reaching up and pinching his cheek, “you’re adorable.” Nicholas didn’t even try to stop her, he just grinned wider, his cheeks heating under her touch. “Adorable, huh?” he teased, leaning in closer again, his voice low and amused. “Better be careful, witch. You’ll make your wolf start wagging his tail.”
She giggled, giving his chest a playful push, though she didn’t move far. “Maybe I don’t mind that.” Nicholas’s grin softened into something more tender, his thumb brushing along her jaw as he looked down at her, his mate, his other half, his entire world standing right there. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m not letting you go.”
Perhaps her vision hadn’t been a warning after all. Maybe the blood she’d seen hadn’t been a sign of death, but of rebirth. Maybe it had been a symbol of new beginnings, of change. Perhaps it had alluded to Taki’s struggle, the pain and healing that followed, or maybe it was something else entirely, something she would never fully understand.
Maybe it was fate’s way of testing her, of seeing whether she would still choose love, even when she feared losing it. (Y/n) didn’t know. There were so many things she didn’t understand about her visions, about her power, about the strange way the universe liked to twist its stories. But as Nicholas’s hand found hers, steady, warm, grounding, she realized that maybe she didn’t need to know.
Because what she did know was this: She was in love. Deeply, wildly, completely. And for the first time in her life, she wasn’t running from it. She wasn’t afraid of what her visions might say or what the world might think. She had found her place, a home, a family, a love that was both fierce and gentle. The pack had become her safe haven, a strange, beautiful collection of souls bound together by more than blood. And Nicholas… he was her heart’s anchor. Her wolf. Her chaos. Her peace.
As the night settled around them and the noise of the world faded away, (Y/n) leaned into his warmth, smiling softly against his chest. Perhaps fate had only been trying to scare her, to see if she was brave enough to hold on to what she was meant for. And she was. Because this, right here, Nicholas, the pack, this new life, this was where she belonged. Her forever place.
~~~The end (for now) ~~~
Thank you guys for reading! I hope you enjoyed this slightly longer part!
Good job with the guessing from the teasers, a couple of you guys knew it had to be Nicholas, and we all cheered!
Also, Jake appearing and not being a vampire… were you guys shocked? And (Y/n) being half-witch half-oracle, how do we feel about that? Do you think her vision was a test? Or perhaps was it eluding to something that is to come?
How do we feel about Taki and his struggles? Who do you think will find their mate next? And will there perhaps be more enemies entering their town?
And don’t worry, we will see a lot more of their relationship grow in the coming parts, I had so much to add to this one that I probably could have reached like 50k if I added it all, but I decided to cut some scenes to add in future parts.
Did you guys understand kind of what outfit I was describing for Nicholas during the runway scene? If not, I’ll add a picture, I did change a few details but I’m obsessed with this look on him and come on, how could I not add him wearing a crop top?
I loved this one!!!! Their dynamics are just top notch fr🙂↕️ I love how you always describe the ambience and include all senses, it makes the reading experience much more tangible! I can’t wait to read all the next parts!! Reading your works (especially the long ones! The longer the better hahah) is always a highlight of my day😍
《 No, I don't know him personally, consider this fanmade & just for fun. Also in astro not necessarily all the planets say the same, can oppose each other, just like people themselves. Included every possibility that came to my mind. 》
Since we don't know his exact birthtime, he can either have a pisces or an aries moon. I personally think he has pisces - i cannot see him with an aries one - but i included both version below. Feel free to check out both!
PISCES MOON
(☾ MOON – what he finds cozy, comfortable, familiar, innermost, calming, homely, safe, private, (motherly))
can be extremely spiritual or very religious, interested in esoteria, head in the clouds, a daydreamer, usually find comfort in imagining (themselves in) fake scenarios, they also make wonderful artists, have a natural creative vein and also very appreciative & supportive of other artists and arts, takes delight in their solitude, can look angelic & ethereal, pale skin and fragile- looking appearance, needs a protector (him), empathetic, very sensitive, intuitive, selfless to a fault, a fairy, an angel, usually puts others before themselves, shy, reserved, highly introverted, but very kind, unconfident, passive, unsure, usually needs a dominant partner, daydreams of a future together, usually have just a few friends, take care of their friends very seriously, can have a savior complex, like either wants to be saved (by him) or wants to save others (him), might feel like they came from a different world, unfit for society, an outsider, precious, dreamy, rare, otherwordly and very special
ARIES MOON
(☾ MOON – what he finds cozy, comfortable, familiar, innermost, calming, homely, safe, private, (motherly))
someone sporty, fit, lean, muscular, loves to work out & move, constantly on the move, masculine, boyish / a tomboy, impatient, easy to anger & have a bad temper, even aggressive, childish, childlike, have a kid's soul, partly had to grow up quickly, probably raised themselves, partly will never completely grow up / never wants to grow up, loves kids, loves games, extroverted, bubbly, floofball, a ball of sunshine, loud, extra active, restless, extra curious, free- spirited, hates rules, unexpected, hates making plans & timelines, can't make plans & timelines, acts before thinks, quick on their feet, quick thinker, talks fast, rushes everything, the pioneer type, breaks norms, independent but not necessarily dependable, probably have their own way of income, fiery, initiator, start trends, always wants to win & be the first, dominant, egotistical, cheeky, direct, bold, rude even, raw, iconic, very inspiring & motivating, leader type, can't sit still, very giving, supportive and entertaining
GEMINI VENUS
(♀ VENUS – what he finds attractive, beautiful, charming, magnetic, arousing, irresistible. classic 'what type of girl he likes' planet)
social butterfly, socially active, have a large group of friends, talks a lot, voice their opinions by themselves & a lot, highly curious & intelligent, love new things, have a lot of new ideas constantly, their mind is a rollercoaster, open- minded, intellectual, well- read, can phrase their thoughts well, knows a lot of trivia or funfact, don't go too deep in anything, cheeky, might plan for a short time, adaptable, popular, socially well- liked, but quirky, whimsical, even weird, fast on their feet, hard to keep up with, a constant challenge, gets bored easily, keeps up with the newest things & trends, have a lot of social connections but not necessarily from high class, positive, cheerful, maybe open to the idea of polyamory or open relationships
CAPRICORN JUNO
(⚵ JUNO – can mean two things: either the way he acts like in a relationship, or the kind of person he the most compatible with on the long run)
someone hardworking who takes work very seriously, widely respected, their opinion matters a lot, have strong morals, have high ambitions & big dreams, strict, serious, hard to approach, 'girlboss' energy, 'hard to get', takes time to open up, went through a lot of hardships, passive, cold, practical, thinks things through, plans wayyy before, plans for the long run, can prefer work more than love, workaholic, independent on their own, dependable not dependent, probably has their own way of income, prestigious, stands on the upper part of the social ladder, have a lot of knowledge, power & ambition, can keep their cool, probably open to the idea of marriage & having a family
Warnings: None, let me know if you think there's something I should add!
Taglist: @voucearse, @petunia05, @evemeri, @nadiakittyy, @yumnyangiexx, @seodami, let me know if you wish to be added!
Aya = Kei’s mate. Miyu = Yuma’s mate. Sora = EJ’s mate.
Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed this!
Yudai/K. 2. Yuma. 3. EJ
Networks: @k-records
The library smelled faintly of ink and paper, dust motes drifting in the golden shafts of afternoon light that fell across the polished wooden floors. Jo stepped inside, his sketchbook tucked under his arm, his mind half on the list of references he needed for class. Then the scent hit him.
It was soft, layered, like warm cedar and a hint of citrus after rain, and it slid straight through the walls he’d always kept carefully in place. His wolf stirred instantly, ears pricking, but not in the feral, overwhelming way he’d seen in Kei or Yuma. No collapse, no frantic need. Just certainty. A quiet click, as though the world had always meant to realign in this moment.
Mate. His lips pressed into the faintest smile. Of course, it would be like this for him. Quiet. Undeniable. He drifted between the shelves, head tilted just enough to catch voices at the far end of the main desk. His hearing tuned out the shuffle of books, the rustle of jackets, the low hum of fluorescent lights, until one voice rang clear:
“Hi, I’m (Y/n). It’s my first day here, and I’ll be working as an assistant in the library.” Jo’s chest tightened. The sound of her name sat perfectly in his bones, like a note that belonged in a song he hadn’t realized was unfinished. He lingered a little longer between the shelves, listening to the casual introductions, the easy laughter of her coworkers welcoming her. His wolf nudged against him, urging him closer, but Jo’s calm was a steady hand. He would not rush. He would see her, learn her, sketch her into his life piece by piece. (Y/n). He liked that name.
~~~
At first, it was only curiosity. A few extra minutes spent in the library after class, a book open in front of him, though the words blurred on the page. He wasn’t subtle about it, not really. His gaze drifted more often than it should have, following the way her hands moved as she shelved books, the way her hair caught the light when she leaned over the desk.
(Y/n) was everything he wasn’t. Loud, open, full of life. She laughed with the other students as though they were already friends, her voice carrying easily through the quiet stacks. She never seemed to hold herself back, never seemed to question if her presence was too much. She simply existed, brightly, like the sun streaming through a window.
Jo found himself showing up every day. He’d take the same seat near the back corner, a book propped up in front of him. Sometimes he’d try to read, but his eyes always slid away from the page. His wolf didn’t pace or growl; it simply watched with him, content just to be near her.
When the urge became too strong, when he felt like his chest might burst with everything unspoken, he’d slip his sketchbook onto the desk. Pencil in hand, he’d capture her in fragments. The curve of her smile as she handed someone a stack of notes. The tilt of her head when she listened intently. The way her hands moved when she spoke was expressive and graceful all at once.
Page after page filled with her, though he never let anyone see, not yet. These drawings were his secret, the only way he knew how to hold onto the feeling that came with her presence. On weekends, when the campus quieted and the library hours shrank, the ache of absence settled heavy in him. He caught himself counting down until Monday, restless in a way he’d never been before.
Still, he didn’t dare to approach her. Not yet. His brothers would have laughed, Kei nearly collapsing in the street when he met Aya, Yuma blurting out his feelings before he even understood them, EJ fighting tooth and nail against fate itself, but Jo was different. He didn’t need to rush. For now, it was enough to see her. To know she was real. He trusted that fate had a plan for him.
Eventually, after almost a month of his daily visits, (Y/n) had had enough. She had noticed him right away, tall, quiet, always in the same corner of the library. At first, she thought it was a coincidence, but after three weeks of the same routine, she realized he was there every single day. And he wasn’t exactly good at hiding his glances either.
She thought he was cute. Reserved, maybe shy, but there was something about the way his eyes followed the room, as if he saw more than anyone else. She’d tried to ask around, curious, but no one seemed to know much. All she managed to learn was that his name was Jo, and that he studied art. That was it. No one had any stories, no gossip, no details. He was like a ghost who drifted in and out of campus life without leaving a trace.
So when Monday came around and Jo slipped into the library at his usual time, after classes, and sat down at his usual table, (Y/n) decided she’d had enough of waiting. She wasn’t going to let this quiet mystery boy keep hiding in the background. She walked over and sat down across from him. Jo looked up, a little confused at first, but also, though he tried not to show it, happy. His wolf stirred, warm and alert, though still calm, as if it had been expecting this.
“Hi,” she said brightly, resting her arms on the table. Jo blinked once before answering, his voice soft, polite. “Hi.” Her eyes dropped almost immediately to the sketchbook in his hands. He had it open, pencil still hovering just above the page. Curiosity tugged at her, and before she could stop herself, she leaned slightly to peek inside.
The second her eyes started to trace the lines on the page, Jo snapped the book shut with a quiet but decisive motion. “Sorry,” he said quickly, his fingers tightening around the edges of the sketchbook. “It’s just… private.” “Oh!” (Y/n) sat back, wide-eyed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be snooping.” She gave him an apologetic smile, trying to lighten the awkwardness. “It’s okay,” he murmured, eyes dropping to the table.
She tried again, her natural extroversion pushing her forward. “So… Jo, right? You come here a lot. I’m guessing you like reading?” “Sometimes,” he admitted, though his voice was hesitant. His hands fidgeted with his pencil, tapping it against the cover of his book. (Y/n) smiled encouragingly, hoping to draw him out. “What do you usually read?”
Jo opened his mouth, but no words came. His nerves tangled his thoughts, leaving his answers short and halting. “Um. Mostly… art books. Techniques. History. Sometimes novels.” “That makes sense,” she said warmly. “You’re an art student, right? I heard that from someone.” He nodded, but didn’t elaborate. His heart was pounding. He wanted to talk to her, to say something more than clipped sentences, but his nerves wrapped too tightly around his throat.
(Y/n) kept trying to strike up a conversation, tossing out little questions, laughing softly to ease the tension. But Jo only managed short replies. He tried his best, but the weight of her attention, her closeness, was almost overwhelming. Still, despite his awkwardness, he couldn’t stop the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. She was talking to him. She had chosen to sit with him. And that, for Jo, was everything.
Eventually, she gave up at least for that day. Her attempts at conversation had been met with polite but stumbling replies, his voice barely carrying above the low hum of the library. She wasn’t upset; she could tell he was shy, but still, she knew when to stop pushing. With a small smile, she excused herself and went back to the front desk.
But in her mind, she’d already decided: she was going to make it her mission to get to know him. From that day on, each time Jo came to the library, (Y/n) would find an excuse to go up to him. Sometimes she asked about his classes, other times about his artwork, or even little things like the weather or what books he was pretending to read. She always smiled, always tried to keep it light, as though talking to him was the most natural thing in the world.
Jo liked the attention. More than he would ever admit out loud. Every time she walked toward him, his chest grew tight, his pulse quickened, and his wolf stirred with a deep, content rumble. But at the same time, he felt foolish. Kei had all but fallen to his knees when he’d found Aya. Yuma had practically shouted his heart out when Miyu came into his life. Even EJ, despite all the pain and resistance, had fought for Sora with everything in him. And Jo? He couldn’t even manage to say hi first. He hated that fear held him back. That his mate was right here, in front of him, smiling and trying, and all he could do was stammer through small talk.
Then one day, after what felt like weeks of her persistence, everything changed. He had settled into his usual spot, sketchbook half-open on the table, waiting for that familiar moment when she’d drift over, cheerful and warm, ready to tug him into conversation. But this time, when their eyes met across the room… she hesitated.
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, thoughtful, maybe even disappointed. And then, instead of walking over, she turned away and busied herself with a stack of returned books. Jo froze. His wolf, calm and steady until now, gave a long, mournful howl inside him. The sound tore through his chest, leaving behind an ache so sharp he almost couldn’t breathe.
Why? Why didn’t she want to talk to him today? Had he done something wrong? Had she finally grown tired of his awkward silences, of his inability to give her more than short, clumsy answers? For the first time since he’d found her, Jo felt the terrifying weight of the possibility that she might give up on him entirely.
Jo’s sadness didn’t go unnoticed. At first, the pack only picked up on small things: the way he lingered on the porch a little longer at night, his sketchbook clutched tighter in his hands, the silence heavier than usual when he sat with them at the dinner table. But soon, the weight of it was clear. He was hurting.
The first person to approach him wasn’t Euijoo, or Kei, or even Yuma. It was Miyu. She remembered the night of Yuma’s coma, after the rougarou attack. How Jo had sat with her, quiet but steady, and for the first time, he had shown her his sketchbook. She knew how much that meant; his sketchbook was his soul, something not even his brothers got to see. So when she caught him slipping out for one of his walks, she followed.
They walked in silence for a while, the forest floor soft beneath their feet, the late afternoon light painting the trees in fading gold. Eventually, Jo sat down on a mossy rock, his sketchbook resting in his lap. His fingers hovered over the cover, hesitant. Then, with a quiet sigh, he opened it. The last ten pages were all the same. Sketches of one girl.
(Y/n), captured in charcoal and pencil, her smile radiant, her brows furrowed in thought, her fingers curled around a coffee cup. She was reading, shelving books, laughing with someone out of frame. Each drawing was soft but precise, alive in a way only Jo could manage.
Miyu’s breath caught. “Jo… these are beautiful.” He didn’t answer. His eyes stayed on the pages, his expression unreadable. Finally, Miyu asked, “Who is she?” Jo’s voice was low, steady, but filled with something unshakable. “My mate.” Miyu’s eyes widened. “You found your mate? When?”
“Two months ago,” he admitted. “She just moved here. She works as an assistant in the library at the university.” Miyu blinked, then frowned softly. “Why haven’t you said anything?” Jo’s grip on the sketchbook tightened. “I don’t know. The stuff with EJ was happening, so it didn’t feel like the time. And.. Because I’m ashamed.”
“Of her?” His head snapped up, startled. “No. Never of her.” His voice broke, softer now. “Of myself. I’m a coward. I can’t talk to her. And now she hates me.” Miyu sat beside him carefully, her expression kind. “Why do you say that?” He swallowed hard. “Because… she started talking to me a month ago. I barely answered, but she kept trying anyway. Every day, as soon as I sit down in the library, she comes over, smiles, and strikes up a conversation. And then… yesterday, she just looked at me and walked away. Same thing today. Not a word.”
His wolf whined inside him at the memory, the sound of loss echoing through him. Miyu reached out and wrapped her arms around him gently, pulling him into a careful hug. “Jo… she probably likes you too. But think about it, if you never really answer her, if you don’t show her how much you care, she might think you’re not interested. She’s been making the moves, and you haven’t reciprocated. So maybe she’s not giving up because she hates you… Maybe she just wants you to chase her. To show her that you like her too.”
Jo lifted his eyes from the sketchbook, searching her face. “You really think so?” Miyu nodded firmly. “Absolutely. You just have to find your way of approaching her. I know it might be difficult, but you can do it. She obviously likes you, Jo. So just make an effort. Something small, but real. Maybe get her a coffee next time you visit the library. Just… show her that you’re trying too.” Jo sat back, his heart pounding, the faintest glimmer of hope flickering through the sadness. Coffee. He could do that. For the first time in weeks, his wolf stirred with something brighter than longing.
“Thank you… for helping me,” Jo said quietly, closing his sketchbook. Miyu smiled at him, her eyes warm. “Hey, Jo, we’re family now, right? We’re a pack. And you really helped me that night, back when Yuma was injured. I don’t think I could have fallen asleep if you hadn’t calmed me down.”
Jo’s lips curved into a faint but genuine smile. For someone like him, that was more than enough to show how much her words meant. He stood, then offered his hand to help her up. Miyu accepted it with a little grin, squeezing his fingers as she rose. “Everything’s going to be okay,” she told him softly. “But you should tell the rest of the pack about finding your mate.”
Jo hesitated, eyes flicking down. “I know. I think it’s time… I just don’t want them to make fun of me for being scared.” Miyu laughed lightly, patting his arm. “Don’t worry. If they do, I’ll tell them to behave. And if they don’t behave, I won’t cook for them for a whole month.” That pulled a quiet laugh from Jo, the weight on his chest easing. “They wouldn’t survive a week.” “Exactly,” Miyu said, winking.
Feeling lighter, Jo finally found the courage to start small. The first person he talked to was Nicholas. Of all the pack, Nico was someone Jo had grown close to, someone whose gruff honesty and steady presence he trusted. Nicholas listened quietly as Jo told him everything, about the library, about (Y/n), about the weeks of sketching her in secret, about his silence and his fear. When Jo finished, his voice low with shame, Nicholas gave him a rare, genuine smile.
“I’m glad you told me,” Nico said. “And I’m glad you trusted me with this.” Jo ducked his head, embarrassed, but Nico continued, his tone firm. “Listen. You don’t have to be like Kei or Yuma, and you don’t have to fight like EJ. Don’t be ashamed of being who you are. You’re the quiet one. The one who listens, who supports, who holds people up without saying much. That’s not weakness, Jo. That’s strength too.” Jo’s chest tightened. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed to hear those words.
“And Miyu’s right,” Nico added, leaning back with his arms crossed. “You don’t need some grand gesture. Just something small, something real. A coffee. Or…” His gaze flicked to the sketchbook Jo still held. “Maybe something more personal. Like one of your drawings. That’s who you are. Let her see that.” Jo thought about it. His sketches were his heart, his most private self. But for (Y/n)… maybe that was exactly what he needed to share.
Then he remembered something. Weeks ago, while she was shelving books, she had laughed with one of her coworkers about her favorite novel. Jo had tucked the title away, too nervous to say anything at the time. Now, he found it. He read it cover to cover, taking in the world she loved, seeing it through her eyes. When he finished, he pulled out his sketchbook and began to draw.
It wasn’t just a scene from the story. It was her, the way he imagined she must have looked while reading it, curled into a chair, smiling softly, the fictional world alive around her. When he finished, Jo looked down at the drawing, his wolf humming low and content inside him. This was it. His first step toward her.
~~~
It was now Friday, and Jo’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding. He slipped the drawing into a plain envelope, her name written carefully across the front. When he arrived at the library, he didn’t hesitate this time. He walked straight to the front desk, set it down gently, and then retreated to his usual spot in the corner. And then, he waited.
Minutes stretched into an hour. He sketched idly, pretended to read, but his ears never stopped tracking the sound of footsteps and voices, waiting for hers. Finally, she returned to the desk. Jo’s stomach twisted when he saw her expression, sad, her shoulders slumped, her usual brightness dimmed. He wondered what had happened, his wolf whining quietly inside him.
She spotted the envelope almost immediately. Curious, she opened it right there. The moment her eyes fell on the drawing, her whole face changed. Her lips curved into a bright, beautiful smile, one that made Jo’s chest ache with relief. She glanced around the room, searching, and then her eyes found him. He hadn’t signed the drawing, but she knew. Somehow, she just knew.
Her smile softened into something almost shy as she walked over to his table, sliding into the seat across from him. She held the drawing up between them. “What’s this?” she asked, her voice light, teasing. Jo swallowed, his palms sweating. “Um, just… something I made. Thinking of you?” The words tumbled out, more like a question than an answer.
She laughed, the sound ringing like music. Jo’s wolf purred deep in his chest at the sound, content and delighted all at once. “I didn’t know you read books like that,” she said, glancing at the drawing again. Jo surprised even himself with his answer. “I do for the right person.” He didn’t know where the courage came from, maybe some hidden spark of Nicholas’s bluntness slipping through, but the words left his mouth before he could second-guess them.
(Y/n) blinked, cheeks warming, and then she blushed, ducking her head. Jo felt heat rush up his own neck, his ears burning red like a tomato. “I thought you didn’t like me,” she admitted softly. “Considering you barely answered me and looked annoyed whenever I came over here.” Jo’s eyes widened. “No! No, I just, I was too nervous. I still am. I’m not used to this.” Her lips quirked up. “What, talking to girls?” “Kind of,” he mumbled, then added, voice even softer, “Or… well… girls I like.” For a moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them thick with unspoken meaning.
“Well, if you like me, why don’t we go on a date?” she said suddenly, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh! We could try to get a table at that new restaurant, Koyomi? I think that’s the name. I haven’t been yet, but I’ve only heard good things, and apparently it’s so hard to get a table nowadays.” Jo’s heart nearly stopped. A date. She wanted to go on a date with him. His mouth moved before his brain caught up. “I can get us a table. No problem.”
Her eyes widened, her voice shooting up in volume. “HOW?” she beamed, almost bouncing in her seat with excitement. Jo ducked his head, blushing even harder. “One of my brothers is dating one of the owners… and my youngest brother works there too.” “Wahhh, that’s so cool,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.
Jo nodded, and despite his nerves, he smiled. “Hey,” she said suddenly, tilting her head at him. “Your smile is so cute. You should smile more.” His entire face went scarlet. He fumbled, words tumbling out in a rush. “You’re cute too, I mean, your smile, well, and you, but like, your smile…ugh, I’ll just shut up now.” He dropped his head into his hand, mortified, while his wolf let out a rumbling laugh inside him. You wouldn’t do any better, Jo muttered back in his head.
(Y/n) giggled, leaning on her elbows. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. So… can you really get us a table? Like, tomorrow?” Jo nodded, still pink. “Yeah. That shouldn’t be a problem.” “Yayy!” she cheered. “Give me your number so we can decide on a time and everything.” She handed him her phone, and he carefully typed in his number. Meanwhile, she snatched his phone and did the same, her thumbs moving quickly.
When Jo got it back, his wolf practically purred at the sight of her name saved in his contacts: (Y/n) <3. “I’ll text you when I’ve talked with Miyu about it,” he promised. “Sounds good. I’ll keep my night open then. For now…” she stood, flashing him a smile so bright it made his chest ache. “I need to get back to work. Thanks for the drawing, Jojo.”
She blew him a playful kiss before walking off. Jo just sat there, stunned, his heart hammering so hard it felt like everyone in the library could hear it. Jojo. She gave him a nickname. His wolf howled with pure delight.
Jo practically sprinted home that afternoon, sketchbook bouncing in his bag. He needed to catch Miyu or Maki before they left for work. Luck was on his side; he spotted them in the driveway, Maki already halfway into the passenger seat, while Miyu locked the front door.
“Miyu! Wait!” Jo called, breathless. She paused immediately, glancing back over her shoulder. “Maki, give me a minute,” she said, and the younger wolf groaned but stayed put in the car. Jo jogged over, cheeks pink and eyes bright. “Would it be possible for me to book a table for two at Koyomi tomorrow night?”
Miyu’s face lit up instantly, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “I take it today went well with your mate?” Jo nodded, smiling shyly, his ears already burning. “Yeah. So uh… table?” “Of course,” she said warmly. “There’s always space for the family. And for just two? We’ll fix something special. I’ll check the bookings when I get there tonight and text you a time, because I don’t know the schedule off the top of my head.” “Thank you,” Jo said earnestly.
Miyu reached out and ruffled his hair, making him duck away with an embarrassed laugh, before sliding into the driver’s seat. She gave him one last wink through the window before pulling out of the driveway, Maki waving lazily from the car.
The moment Jo got inside, he pulled out his phone and texted (Y/n): We’ll get a table at Koyomi tomorrow, just don’t know the time yet. Miyu’s going to check for me. Her reply came almost instantly, the words bouncing across the screen like her voice in his head. Omg that’s great, Jojo, can’t wait for tomorrow!
Jo froze, staring at the name she’d called him again. Jojo. His wolf thudded in his chest, practically rolling with joy. His heart beat faster than ever, so hard he had to sit down just to catch his breath. She was excited. She wanted this. And she called him Jojo. He couldn’t stop smiling if he tried.
Nicholas noticed it right away. Normally, Jo was never without his sketchbook in hand, pencil scratching across the page even in the middle of chaos. But tonight, instead of drawing, he was glued to his phone, his thumb hovering anxiously as he stared at the screen.
Nico smirked and wandered over, leaning down beside him. “Talking to your girlfriend, ey?” “Ya, don’t say it so loud,” Jo hissed, swatting at Nicholas’s face in embarrassment. His ears turned pink immediately. “Sorry, sorry,” Nicholas chuckled, though his grin only widened. “It’s just too funny. But, well? How’d it go?”
Jo ducked his head, but there was no hiding the shy smile tugging at his lips. “She liked my gift. I made her a drawing from her favorite book. And tomorrow… we’re going on a date. At Koyomi.” Nicholas’s expression softened, a rare, genuine smile breaking through. “Good for you, Jo. That’s great.” He paused, then added, “Just one little advice?” Jo nodded, looking up expectantly. “Don’t do a Yuma, okay? We don’t need any more death scares for a while.” Nicholas smirked faintly, then added, “And definitely don’t do what Euijoo did. Just… be more like Kei, please.” Jo gave a breathy laugh. “I’ll try. But you know just as well as I do… a wolf will do anything for their mate.”
Before Nicholas could respond, Jo’s phone pinged again. His heart jumped as he saw the sender: Miyu. We can fit you in at 6, until about 8, if that works? Jo typed back instantly, That’s perfect, thank you again! Nicholas straightened up, shaking his head with amusement. “Alright, I see how it is. You’ll be staring at that phone until she answers, won’t you?”
Jo didn’t even deny it. His gaze was already glued to the screen again, waiting for (Y/n)’s reply. With a soft chuckle, Nicholas gave the younger wolf an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Jo. Just be yourself.” And with that, Nico left him to his buzzing phone, heading outside to meet Fuma and Yuma for training, while Jo sat there, heart racing, waiting for (Y/n)’s name to light up his screen again.
That evening, Jo knocked softly on Harua’s door, peeking inside. “Hey, um… can you help me with something?” Harua looked up from his phone, tilting his head. “Sure, what’s up?” Jo stepped in, shuffling awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. “I, uh… I don’t know what to wear tomorrow. For… a date.” Harua blinked once. Then twice. His eyes went wide. “Wait. A date? You’re going on a date?” Jo nodded sheepishly. Harua’s jaw dropped. “Hold on, hold on. You found your mate and you haven’t said anything?!”
Jo winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, okay? I just… I was too scared. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to talk to her. But she… asked me out. On a date.” For a moment, Harua just stared at him. Then his whole face lit up. “Woah, I’m so happy for you!!” He bounced up from his bed, practically vibrating with excitement. “Seems like Kei finding Aya created some kind of surge or something, suddenly everyone’s finding their mates!”
Jo chuckled softly, a little embarrassed but touched by Harua’s enthusiasm. “Okay, okay,” Harua said, rubbing his hands together. “This is important. First date with your mate? We’re gonna make sure you look good.” Jo stood patiently as Harua tore through his closet with surprising determination. He held up shirts, jackets, and pants against Jo’s frame, shaking his head at some, nodding at others. Jo, for his part, simply endured the whirlwind, offering small comments when Harua shoved options at him.
Finally, Harua settled on a clean, simple but sharp outfit, something comfortable enough for Jo’s shy nature, but polished enough to show he cared. “There,” Harua said proudly, hands on his hips. “Perfect. She’s gonna melt when she sees you.” Jo glanced in the mirror, tugging self-consciously at the hem of the shirt. “You think so?” Harua grinned. “I know so.” Jo gave him a quiet smile, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Thanks, Harua.” “Of course,” Harua said. “That’s what brothers are for.”
~~~
The next day crawled by. Jo was a nervous mess from the moment he woke up. He could barely focus on anything, not his sketchbook, not food, not even when Harua teased him about pacing holes into the living room floor. His wolf wasn’t helping either, restless and buzzing with anticipation.
By late afternoon, Fuma tossed him the car keys and smirked. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride before you dig yourself into the floor.” The drive to the restaurant felt shorter than Jo wanted. His palms sweated the entire way, his leg bouncing anxiously until Fuma cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. “Relax, Jo. You’ll be fine.” Still, when Jo stepped out of the car and Fuma drove off, he stood outside the restaurant for several minutes, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.
Then she arrived. Jo’s breath caught in his throat. He had never seen her like this, always in sweatshirts and jeans, casual and comfortable. But tonight, she wore a dress, simple but elegant, and her hair was done up in a braid that looped into a neat bun at the back. She was radiant, and Jo thought for a moment that maybe his heart had stopped completely.
“Hi, (Y/n),” he managed, voice soft but warm. “Jojo!” she beamed, rushing over. “Hiii, omg I can’t believe this! I’ve wanted to go here since I moved here, but I never had the time. And now that I do, they’re fully booked all the time!” Jo’s lips twitched into a small, shy smile. “Yeah, they’ve been busy. So much so that I’ve barely seen my brother for two weeks.”
He offered her his arm, and she took it without hesitation. Together, they walked inside. The interior was warm, alive with quiet chatter, the smell of rich dishes hanging in the air. Jo spotted Jay almost immediately. The vampire greeted him with a kind smile. They weren’t quite friends yet, but there was no hostility either. The pack had slowly begun to trust him, and Jay himself had grown fonder of the wolves with every visit.
“Hi, Jo,” Jay said smoothly. “Table for two?” “Hey, Jay. Yeah, Miyu fixed an emergency time for me, hehe.” “Family is always welcome.” Jay inclined his head, then motioned for them to follow. “Come with me. I’ll lead you to your table.”
Beside him, (Y/n) practically glowed. She looked around as they walked deeper into the restaurant, her eyes wide, drinking in every detail like a child at Christmas. The lights, the polished wood, the soft music, all of it seemed magical to her. Jo couldn’t help but glance at her, his chest tight with affection. She was happy, and that alone made every ounce of nervousness worth it.
“Is he one of your brothers?” (Y/n) asked as they followed Jay through the restaurant. “No,” Jo shook his head. “He’s one of the co-owners here. And… he’s my brother’s girlfriend’s best friend.” (Y/n) laughed softly. “Messy, haha. He seems nice.” “Yeah, he is,” Jo agreed just as Jay came to a stop.
They had reached a far corner of the restaurant. A small table stood waiting for them, tucked away in a cozy, secluded spot. The low lighting and gentle hum of voices made it feel warm, almost intimate. Jo’s nerves settled just a little. “Here you go,” Jay said, gesturing to the table. “Maki will be out in a few minutes to take your orders. Enjoy your time here.” He left them with a polite nod, and Jo quickly pulled out (Y/n)’s chair before sitting down himself. They opened their menus, the quiet moment filled with the soft clink of dishes from other tables.
“So,” (Y/n) said, glancing up with a curious smile, “who’s Maki?” “He’s my brother,” Jo explained. “My youngest one. He’s been working here pretty much ever since Yuma and Miyu began dating.” “Oh, that’s nice! How many brothers do you have?” Jo froze for a second, his cheeks heating. Their family situation wasn’t exactly simple, and explaining it to someone who thought they were just… normal humans always felt tricky.
“Um,” he said finally, rubbing at the back of his neck, “well, I have eight brothers.” (Y/n)’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s quite a lot.” Jo gave a small, shy smile. “We’re not exactly… related, though. But we all see each other like brothers.” She tilted her head, a little confused. “What do you mean?”
Jo glanced down at his menu, buying himself a moment. “It’s complicated. But we’re all kind of… orphans. We met at different times, but we… created our own family through the years.” (Y/n)’s expression softened, her smile warm. “That’s nice. A found family. I almost can’t believe those exist in the real world. I feel like I only ever read about them.” Jo’s lips curved, faint but true. “Yeah. I’m happy, lucky, to have them.” (Y/n) studied him for a moment, her eyes kind. “It suits you, you know. You seem like someone who’d take care of people.” Jo’s ears turned pink, and he ducked his head, hiding behind his menu.
“Okay, now, what do you recommend?” (Y/n) asked, tilting her head toward Jo with a grin.
Jo chuckled softly, flipping through the menu. He began pointing out his favorites, quietly explaining why he liked each one. “Ohh,” (Y/n) said, chewing her lip. “I can’t decide between the chicken stew and the salmon dish.”
Jo hesitated for only a moment before offering, “How about we order both and share? That way you can try them both.” Her eyes widened, sparkling with delight. “Jo, I love you! No one ever wants to share food with me, but I love doing that!” The words slipped out of her mouth without a second thought, but Jo’s heart nearly exploded. His wolf stirred, aching at the sound of those three words, even if she didn’t mean them that way. He longed to hear them again, properly, one day.
“Then let’s do that,” he said softly, his cheeks red. “I don’t mind. I’m used to sharing things.” (Y/n) beamed at him, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement as she turned her eyes back to the menu. A few moments later, Maki appeared, carrying a notepad. “Hello, I’m Maki, Jo’s little brother. I’m here to take your order if you’re ready?”
“Hey,” Jo said quietly. (Y/n) chuckled at his tone. Was he shy in front of his own brother? Cute. “Hi, I’m (Y/n)!” she introduced herself brightly. “And yes, I’m starving! We want one of these and one of this one! And I think that’s all for now.”
Maki almost laughed at the contrast. (Y/n) was so different from Jo, vibrant, loud, unapologetically expressive. But she seemed kind, and maybe, with her energy, she could coax Jo out of his shell more. “Perfect,” Maki said, jotting it down. “Both of those are great choices. And I assume…” His eyes flicked to Jo knowingly. “You want extra rice?”
Jo nodded without hesitation. “Yes, please.” (Y/n) blinked in surprise. “Extra rice?” Maki noticed her confusion and turned back to explain with a grin. “Jo here loves rice. He can eat it just plain. I swear we go through like five kilos of rice each day because of him.” (Y/n) laughed, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “Well, then we better have extra!” Jo ducked his head, embarrassed, but he couldn’t hide the tiny smile tugging at his lips. His wolf purred at the sound of her laughter, it was like music.
Maki bid them goodbye with a cheerful nod before heading back toward the kitchen to fix up their food. Just before disappearing behind the swinging doors, his voice slipped into Jo’s head through the pack’s mind link. Is she your mate? Jo’s answer came quick, almost shy, exactly as expected of him. Yeah. There was a pause, then Maki’s voice came back warm and teasing. Good luck with your date, then. Jo huffed softly, shaking his head, but a smile lingered on his lips.
“He was sweet,” (Y/n)’s voice pulled him back to the present, out of the link. She tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Seems like he’s been working here for years.” “Yeah,” Jo said, settling his hands on the table. “He loves working here. Even if it’s only been a few months, Miyu tells us he’s a natural. The customers love him. And he’s even going to get his own dish on the menu soon. He’s been working so hard on perfecting it.”
As he spoke, (Y/n) noticed something shift in his expression. When Jo talked about his brothers, his eyes lit up with a soft spark. His voice was gentle but sure, his whole presence warmer, happier. It was easy to see how deeply he cared for them, how much his ‘found family’ truly meant to him. “You and your brothers must be so proud of him,” she said softly, smiling. Jo’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen for a brief second, his lips curving faintly before he turned back to her. “Yeah. We really are.”
“Oh, right,” (Y/n) said suddenly, as if remembering something. “I’m thinking of taking an art class next month, because I need one more class apparently. There was a mistake with my transfer, but… I’m not that good at art, so, could you maybe tutor me?” Jo blinked, startled. “You want me to tutor you?” “Yeah,” she said brightly. “If you want to, of course. You don’t have to. But that way we could spend some more time together, and besides… you seem really good at art.”
Jo hesitated, his pencil-calloused fingers fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. He wasn’t sure if he could tutor someone, if he could put into words what came so instinctively to him. But the thought of spending more time with her… he couldn’t say no. “I’ll try,” he said at last, his voice quiet but firm. “I can’t promise anything, though. But I’ll try.” (Y/n)’s face lit up. “Thank you, Jojo! Oh! Our food is coming!”
A server approached, balancing two steaming dishes. The savory aroma of the chicken stew mingled with the buttery scent of grilled salmon, making Jo’s stomach rumble in anticipation. The plates were set before them, along with a bowl of fluffy white rice. “Enjoy your meal,” the server said before slipping away. Jo gestured for (Y/n) to try first. “You should take the first bite of both. Decide which one you like best.”
She grinned and didn’t hesitate, scooping up a bite of stew before switching to the salmon. Her eyes went wide, and she let out a little hum of delight. “Oh wow, they’re both amazing. But…” she leaned closer, lowering her voice as if it were a secret, “the salmon is my favorite.”
Jo smiled softly and dug into his own plate, content just to watch her enjoy herself. She stuck mostly to the salmon, savoring each bite, but every so often she’d sneak a spoonful of stew or slide her fork across the table to offer him a bite of her dish. And Jo, of course, always accepted. Each little exchange felt easy, natural, as though they had been sharing meals like this for years. His wolf purred in quiet contentment, reminding him that this was exactly how it was supposed to be.
(Y/n) kept the conversation flowing easily, bouncing from stories about school to her thoughts on the latest chapter she had read in her book. Jo didn’t mind her endless chatter; in fact, he loved it. He liked how bubbly she was, how her words seemed to dance in the air between them. He only hoped she didn’t find him boring, since he didn’t talk nearly as much. But even if his replies were shorter, he took in every single detail of what she said, storing it away like treasures.
Before either of them realized it, the plates were empty, and a server came to whisk them away. “Oh, let’s get some dessert as well!” (Y/n) said suddenly, her eyes sparkling. “I heard their desserts are amazing!” Jo chuckled softly. “Yeah, they are good.”
She eagerly picked up the dessert menu, scanning the list. Her face lit up as she quickly found two, no, three, things she wanted to try. When she looked back up, ready to defend her indecision, she stopped short. Jo was watching her with a soft smile on his lips, his dark eyes full of warmth and something deeper, something almost overwhelming, love.
Most people found her too much. Too bubbly, too talkative, too eager to share food. But Jo didn’t look the slightest bit annoyed. In fact, he looked at her like she was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Get whatever you want,” he said gently, gesturing to the menu. “If we don’t finish it, you can always bring it home. And if we don’t like it, then we’ll just leave it. It’s fine.” Her heart skipped a beat at his thoughtfulness. She grinned brightly, cheeks a little pink. “You’re seriously the best, Jojo.” Jo ducked his head, flustered, but the smile on his face lingered, his wolf humming with happiness.
After they ordered their dessert, (Y/n) leaned her chin in her hand, studying him curiously. “Jojo, you’re like super tall, right? Are you the tallest of your brothers?” Jo felt the heat creep back into his cheeks. Was he ever going to stop blushing around her? “No, I’m, uh… second tallest, I think. My oldest brother, Kei, is the tallest. He’s a centimeter or two taller than me, if I remember correctly. But… most of us are relatively tall. Only Harua and Yuma are under 180, maybe Nicholas as well, but just barely,”
“Wah,” she breathed. “You guys must be so good at basketball.” Jo gave a small laugh. “Yeah… maybe.” At the mention of basketball, a memory stirred. It had been a long time ago, back when he was still new to the pack. Back when walls still stood high around his heart. Jo had gone out walking in the woods alone, as he often did back then, and returned to the clearing to find Nicholas and Fuma playing basketball.
He remembered how the ball had come flying his way, Fuma had shot too hard, and it almost struck him. On reflex, Jo caught it. His brothers froze, expecting him to simply toss it back. But without thinking, Jo lifted the ball, aimed, and shot from where he stood. The ball sailed clean through the hoop. For a heartbeat, silence. Then Nicholas and Fuma erupted, cheering loudly, grins stretching across their faces. They shouted his name, clapping him on the back, telling him how impressive that shot was.
They invited him to play. For the first time, Jo didn’t hesitate. He joined them, and they laughed together, playing until the sky turned purple with dusk. That was the first time the pack had truly felt like home. The first time Jo had felt like he belonged. Jo blinked back into the present, meeting (Y/n)’s warm gaze across the table. His chest tightened. She didn’t know it yet, but she was already becoming part of that same feeling, home.
“Oh, could you teach me how to shoot a basketball as well?” (Y/n) asked suddenly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Jo couldn’t help it, his smile grew brighter. There was never a dull moment with her. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Maki appeared at their table again.
“Hello again,” Maki said cheerfully, balancing a tray. “Here we go, a few bites of some of our finest desserts. Did the food taste alright?” “It was divine!” (Y/n) exclaimed with dramatic flair. “Just as good, no, better, than I had heard!” Maki chuckled, clearly charmed by her energy. “I’m glad you liked it. You’re welcome back anytime! Enjoy the dessert.”
As he walked away, Jo caught his brother’s eye, and Maki sent another quick mind link: I like her. She’s lively. Jo gave him a sheepish little smile in return, his chest warming at the approval. Then, the desserts claimed (Y/n)’s full attention.
The first bite made her squeal, her whole face lighting up with pure joy. She wiggled a little in her seat, doing a small happy dance that made Jo’s wolf practically purr. Each new spoonful earned another delighted hum, another little sparkle in her eyes.
Jo smiled as he watched her, his own fork moving slowly as he savored not just the food, but the sight of her happiness. He swore the desserts tasted even better because she was there, because he was sharing them with her.
And in that moment, he felt like he was in heaven. Her smile was radiant, brighter than any light in the restaurant, as warm as the summer rays streaming down through an open window. Jo was convinced she must be an angel. If not now, then at least in some previous life. His wolf sighed with deep, unshakable certainty. Ours.
Soon enough, every last bite of dessert had disappeared from their plates. Jo settled the bill without hesitation, though (Y/n) tried her best to argue. “Come on, at least let me pay for half,” she insisted, pouting in mock protest. Jo shook his head, stubborn but gentle. “No. I wanted to take you out. It’s my treat.” She sighed dramatically but gave in, her lips quirking into a smile. “Fine. But next time, I’m sneaking the bill before you.”
Outside, the night air was cool and quiet. The city lights glittered faintly in the distance, the streets mostly empty. Jo hesitated before asking, “Should I walk you home? It’s late… and dark.” (Y/n) shook her head quickly. “It’s okay. I’ll be alright. I don’t live too far away.” He studied her for a long moment, then finally nodded, but not without a condition. “Text me the second you get home. And… don’t hesitate to call if something happens. Anything.”
Her smile softened. She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I promise, Jojo. I’ll text you as soon as I step inside.” His chest tightened at the warmth of her touch. “Be careful, okay?” “I will,” she promised, her voice light. “Good night, Jojo.” He stood there, watching as she walked away, his gaze locked on her until she vanished from sight. Only then did he move.
At first, he jogged. Then he broke into a run, his wolf surging inside him. The second he reached the trees, he let go, his body shifting, clothes tearing as fur rippled across his skin. He didn’t care about the ruined fabric; all he wanted was to run.
The forest blurred around him as he tore through the woods, paws pounding the earth. His wolf carried him straight home, faster than any car could. He burst through the door in his wolf form, startling the others. Heads turned, voices raised, but he didn’t stop. He bounded up the stairs two at a time, straight to his room. Later, Fuma would scold him for dragging mud and fur through the house, but right now, none of that mattered.
Jo shifted back, tugged on fresh clothes, and dropped onto his bed with his phone in hand. He stared at the screen, heart pounding, waiting. Seconds ticked into minutes. Then… Just made it home, thank you for today Jo’s grin spread wide, his wolf humming with joy. He typed back instantly: Great, thank you too. Sweet dreams, (Y/n).
Still smiling, Jo lay back against his pillows. She had a good time. She liked him. This was good, a step in the right direction. His wolf settled at last, curling up with contentment. For the first time in a long time, Jo fell asleep with hope thrumming through every vein.
~~~
The next morning, as Jo descended the stairs, he froze. Fuma stood at the bottom, arms crossed, wearing a displeased look that could rival a thunderstorm. Jo’s stomach sank. He knew exactly why. There was a clear rule in the pack: no wolf forms in the house unless there was an attack. And last night, he had torn through the halls in fur and paws without a second thought.
“I’m sorry,” Jo said immediately, his voice quiet but sincere. Fuma sighed, shaking his head. “You should be. You know the rules, Jo. You’re lucky you didn’t knock over half the furniture or make a hole in the floor,” His tone was firm, though not cruel. Jo nodded, bracing himself. “Here.” Fuma handed him a mop. “Clean the stairs. After that, we can join the others for breakfast.” Jo accepted it without complaint, setting to work while Fuma lingered nearby to make sure he did it properly.
By the time he finished, the smell of breakfast drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the sound of laughter. Jo put the mop away, wiped his hands on his jeans, and walked in. Every head turned. The table was full, Kei, Aya, EJ, Yuma, Nicholas, Harua, Taki, Maki, Miyu, and Sora. And the moment they saw him, grins broke out like wildfire.
“Finally!” Harua exclaimed. “We’ve been waiting for you!” Jo’s ears turned red. “Waiting for what?” “For the details, obviously,” Nicholas smirked. Aya leaned her chin on her hand, eyes sparkling. “We may not have heard you say the word mate, Jo, but the second you said you were going on a date? We all knew.” Miyu gave him a warm smile. “Don’t worry, no one’s making fun of you. We’re just… happy for you.”
The teasing smiles around the table told him otherwise, but beneath it, Jo could see it was true. His family was curious, excited, and most of all, proud. Jo ducked his head, sliding into his chair, his cheeks still burning. “It… went well.” And instantly, the kitchen exploded with questions.
It felt like a thousand questions were being thrown his way all at once. “What’s she like?” Kei asked, leaning forward with a grin. “Is she tall or short?” Harua chimed in. “Does she know you’re a werewolf?” Nicholas asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow. “Did she hold your hand?” Aya teased, smiling knowingly. Yuma piped up, “Did you kiss her?” And finally, from across the table, Maki’s voice cut through the noise, cheerful and curious: “Did she really like all the food yesterday?”
That one felt the easiest. Jo latched onto it like a lifeline. “Yeah,” he said, nodding quickly. “She loved it. Said it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.” Maki’s chest puffed a little with pride. “Good. She’s welcome back anytime.” The questions didn’t stop, though. Kei elbowed him with a grin. “So… no answer on the werewolf thing?” Jo sighed, running a hand over his face. His ears were hot. “No. Of course, she doesn’t know yet. I can’t just tell her on the first date.” “Fair,” Nicholas said with a shrug. “But you’ll have to soon.”
Miyu smirked. “Did she call you by a nickname?” The flush on his cheeks deepened, betraying him before he could answer. The table erupted with laughter and cheers. Harua chuckled at the sight, nearly choking on his food. “Enough,” Fuma finally cut in, though the amused twitch at his lips betrayed him. “Let him eat.”
Jo exhaled in relief, grateful for the brief reprieve. Still, as he sat down and took a bite, he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. Because despite all the teasing, he could still hear her voice in his head, bright and warm as she said it. Jojo.
~~~
Days passed, and suddenly, Jo and (Y/n) were texting a hundred times a day. His phone buzzed constantly, between classes, while sketching, even late at night when he was supposed to be asleep. His brothers teased him about being glued to his screen, but Jo didn’t care. Every message from her lit up his whole world.
He tried to teach her how to draw, as she had asked, but he figured out quickly that her lessons were less about art and more about excuses to spend time together. She’d sit near him, chattering about her day while he painted, occasionally picking up a brush only to hand it back to him with a sheepish grin. “You’re the artist, Jojo,” she’d insist, leaning her chin in her hand. “I’m just here for the company.” And Jo didn’t mind. Not one bit. Because her company was more than enough. Turns out, she didn’t need to take an art class in the coming month; it was all just an excuse.
At the library, her voice carried brightly as she called for him. “Jojo, can you help me put these books back? They all belong on the highest shelf.” “Jojo, can you help me carry these boxes to the back? They’re so heavy.” And of course, he never refused. He followed her like a shadow, her cheerful commands tugging him along as easily as a leash. If she asked, he’d have carried the whole library for her.
It didn’t take long before other students at the university started noticing their dynamic. Some made jokes in whispers when Jo walked by, calling him a simp for the way he trailed after her, always ready to help. But Jo didn’t care. As long as no one dared say anything about her, he could endure their words. She was worth it. Always would be.
One day, they sat tucked into the corner of a cozy café, textbooks and notes spread across the table between them. Supposedly, they were studying, but (Y/n) had been talking animatedly about a book she just finished, and Jo had been sketching absentmindedly in the margins of his notes.
The thought had been gnawing at him for a while now, and finally, Jo decided to test the waters. “Since you read a lot of fantasy…” he began carefully, eyes flicking up to hers, “how would you feel if that stuff was real?” (Y/n) tilted her head, considering. “Well, it depends on what parts of it are real. The idea that there are such things as fairies? Super cool. However, if they’re the kind to lure you to your death? Maybe not so cool.”
Jo chuckled softly, tapping his pencil against the table. “What if they’re the kind to… fall in love with you because of fate?” Her eyes sparkled. “Like a soulmate?” “Yeah,” Jo said, voice quiet. “Exactly.” (Y/n) leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand with a grin. “Well, if they’re someone like you, Jojo, then I wouldn’t mind it.” His heart skipped. “What do you mean, someone like me?”
“Someone kind and caring,” she answered without hesitation. “Someone who doesn’t hesitate to help others. Sure, you’re quiet, but you do lots of things other people don’t. Especially guys.” Jo’s brows furrowed slightly. “Like what?”
“Like, you actually listen and care about what people talk about. You let me rant about my favorite books when you have no interest in them, and yet you remember every detail. You bring me coffee and know my favorite without even asking. You’re attentive, Jojo. And that means a lot. Actions are often louder than words… and in that way, no one is louder than you.”
Jo’s cheeks warmed as her words sank in. Praise always made him feel shy, but there was something different when it came from her, like every syllable filled his chest with sunlight. He smiled, ducking his head a little to hide the redness in his ears, but his wolf purred happily. He made his mate feel seen. He made her feel safe. And that, he thought, might be the best gift he could ever give her.
“Do you just think fairies would be cool if they existed,” Jo asked carefully, “or other supernatural creatures as well?” (Y/n) pretended to think, tapping her chin dramatically before her face broke into a bright smile. “Well, most of the books I read are about fairies and such creatures. But when I was younger, I was obsessed with werewolves. Like, you know Twilight?”
Jo nodded, lips twitching at the reference. “I had such a crush on Jacob,” she confessed with a laugh. “I always found it cooler with a werewolf over a vampire. Besides, I don’t like the cold, so werewolves always seemed like the better choice, considering they’re supposed to be hot, you know, warmer?”
Jo bit back the smile threatening to take over his face. Pride swelled in his chest, his wolf preening at her words. Of all things, she had loved the idea of werewolves. She had chosen them, chosen him, without even knowing it. Maybe… maybe he could break it to her soon. But not yet. He just needed to test the waters a little more.
“Now, what creature would you be if you were supernatural?” (Y/n) asked suddenly, leaning forward across the café table, her eyes glinting with curiosity. Jo almost choked on air. His wolf stirred nervously in the back of his mind. Why lie? “…A werewolf. Definitely.”
“Really?” she said with a grin. “You don’t seem like it. You seem more like a fairy, actually. Soft, kind, very pretty.” Jo’s brows furrowed, his chest tightening. “And why can’t I be a wolf with those qualities?” His voice came out a little sharper than intended. He knew she hadn’t meant any harm, but something in him bristled at the idea, like she was underestimating his kind, underestimating him.
“Wolves just seem more… menacing,” (Y/n) explained, still teasing. “Tougher, maybe a bit more rough, you know? Like, more scars, more anger.” Jo’s response was instant, his voice steady, almost defensive. “Not all werewolves are like that.” The words hung heavy between them. He hadn’t even thought about it before speaking, it was pure instinct, a need to defend not just himself, but all of his kind.
“Oh? Really?” (Y/n) teased, raising her brows. “And you know how werewolves are?” Jo’s stomach dropped. His wolf gave a nervous whine in his head. Idiot. What are you doing? “Um, well, I…” He faltered, heart racing. What could he say? Well, I actually am one, so yes, I know. Yeah. Right. That would go over well.
(Y/n) must have noticed his fluster because her teasing softened. She smiled warmly and reached across the table, brushing her fingers over his hand. “It’s okay, Jojo. I get it. I’m sorry. If you were a werewolf, you’d be the sweetest one. I just know it.” The tension in his chest eased. He felt the pride return, the sting of offense fading. He smiled, a little shy but genuine. He didn’t have to tell her everything, not yet. For now, he could let it stay a joke.
She pushed her chair back, the scrape against the café floor snapping Jo out of his spiraling thoughts. Before he could ask why, (Y/n) rounded the table, her smile soft and mischievous. She leaned down, close enough for Jo to catch the faint scent of her perfume, and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. “I have to go now,” she murmured, her voice warm and teasing. “See you tomorrow, Jojo.”
Jo froze. Heat bloomed across his face, spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. His wolf purred in pure delight, practically rolling over in his chest like a spoiled pup. Their mate really liked them. He touched his cheek once she pulled away, almost in disbelief. His lips curved into a small, stunned smile. He liked her. No, he more than liked her; he loved her.
But how was he supposed to tell her? How could he explain that he wasn’t just some shy art student, but a werewolf bound by fate? That the universe itself had decided they should be together, forever? It was too much. Too soon. Still, the thought lingered as he watched her leave the café, her figure framed by the glow of the late afternoon sun. She deserves to know. And Jo knew he couldn’t keep it a secret forever.
~~~
When Jo came home that night, there was a lightness to his step that hadn’t been there in months. Nicholas noticed immediately. The usually reserved younger wolf practically radiated happiness.
“Hey,” Nicholas called, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Want to go out and play a one-on-one?” Jo blinked at him, surprised by the offer, but nodded. “Yeah. Just let me change.” “Alright. I’ll grab the ball.”
By the time Jo came out, dressed in his usual comfortable clothes, Nicholas was waiting at the edge of their makeshift basketball court, the ball tucked under his arm. “You want defense or offense?” Nicholas asked, spinning the ball lazily in his hand. “I can start off defense,” Jo said, rolling his shoulders as he took his stance. Nicholas grinned and dribbled once before making his move. The game began.
At first, they played in silence. The sound of sneakers scraping against concrete and the steady thump of the ball filled the cool evening air. Heavy breaths came between them, and the occasional grunt or muttered “yes” escaped when one of them scored.
For Jo, the rhythm was grounding. The movement, the competition, the familiarity, it steadied the storm of thoughts swirling in his chest. But Nicholas wasn’t blind. He could see Jo was holding something back, something he wanted to say. And Nico knew better than to rush him. Sometimes, silence was the best way to draw Jo out.
After a while, Nicholas finally broke the silence. “So,” he said casually, dribbling once before lining up a shot, “how are things going with your mate?” The question caught Jo so off guard that he fumbled, his shot clattering against the rim and bouncing off uselessly. Nicholas, quick as ever, snatched the ball and sank it with ease.
Jo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can we… take a break? I’ll answer, I promise.” “Deal,” Nicholas said, tossing the ball aside. Almost on cue, the door to the house opened, and Miyu and Sora stepped out, each carrying a couple of water bottles. “Hey!” Sora called, waving one in the air. “We thought you two could use some water! You seem to be playing very hard.” “Yeah, we don’t want you collapsing on us,” Miyu added with a grin. “After all, Ej and Fuma left us in charge for the night.”
“Thanks, you guys,” Jo murmured, taking the bottle Miyu handed him. Nicholas took his from Sora, nodding in thanks. Both wolves nearly choked when the girls sat down on the edge of the court instead of heading back inside. They looked at Jo expectantly, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “What are you doing?” Nicholas asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. Miyu smirked. “We also want to hear about his mate.” Sora nodded in agreement. “Of course! She’s going to be our new sister. You guys are brothers, so… we’re creating a sisterhood.” Miyu laughed. “Aya would be here too, but she’s out celebrating with Yudai.”
Jo felt his entire face go red. He hadn’t expected an audience, much less this level of enthusiasm. His wolf whined softly inside, equal parts nervous and pleased. But… he trusted Miyu. She had already supported him once, when he felt like a coward. And Sora, so far, had shown nothing but warmth. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to share a little.
“I think it’s going well,” Jo admitted softly, his voice almost shy. “She’s very vocal about liking me. She calls me ‘Jojo’ all the time, and she… she often kisses me on the cheek. She likes being close to me.” “Awww, that’s so sweet,” Miyu and Sora said in unison, both grinning wide.
Jo’s ears burned, but he pushed on. “Today, I even tested the waters by asking her how she’d feel if supernatural creatures were real. And she thinks werewolves would be cool.” Nicholas tilted his head thoughtfully. “That’s a good sign. Do you think it’s time to tell her?” Jo sighed, his gaze dropping to the cracked pavement beneath his sneakers. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since we started talking, and she’s been very clear about liking me… so I guess it could be the time. But at the same time, I’m scared. What if she’s frightened?”
He felt a gentle squeeze on his arm. Sora, her expression soft. “Hey, it’s okay to be scared. This isn’t something you just brush off, I get it. For Euijoo and me, it was easier in the sense that we’re both supernatural creatures, but that didn’t mean we didn’t have our struggles.” Miyu nodded. “Same for Yuma and me. I might have known about the supernatural, but it was still a lot to process when I fell for him.”
She leaned forward a little, her smile warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to rush anything, Jo. Fate chose her for a reason. She’ll understand, okay? Don’t worry too much. And we’ll always be here to support you.” The knot in Jo’s chest loosened just a little at their words. His wolf rumbled with quiet gratitude, soothed by the reassurance of his pack. “Thank you,” he murmured, his eyes finally lifting to meet theirs.
Jo felt better now, the weight on his shoulders easing just a little. He turned toward Nicholas, his voice low. “Should I really tell her?” Nicholas studied him for a long moment, then shook his head gently. “I can’t decide that for you, Jo. You’ll know when the time is right.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “But how about this? Why don’t you invite her for dinner here? That way she can meet the pack, but without the overwhelming detail of us being wolves and Sora a vampire. Sort of ease her into it.”
Miyu’s face lit up. “That’s a great idea! We’ll behave, I promise. Right, Sora?” Sora grinned, nudging Jo’s arm. “Absolutely. No fangs, no fur, just a nice dinner.” Jo chuckled softly, the tension finally starting to lift. “Yeah… yeah, that’s a good idea. Thank you, guys.” He felt his wolf hum in quiet agreement. Dinner. That, he could handle. And maybe it would be the first step toward giving (Y/n) the truth, one piece at a time.
~~~
When Euijoo and Fuma returned home from shopping, arms full of grocery bags, Jo was quick to step in. “Here, let me help,” he said, taking a few bags from them and carrying them toward the pantry. The three of them worked quietly for a moment, putting things away. Jo shifted nervously, his wolf pacing in his chest, before finally speaking up.
“Um… can I ask you something?” Euijoo glanced over, raising a brow. “Of course.” Jo rubbed the back of his neck, his voice quiet. “Would it be okay if I invited (Y/n) over for dinner? Nico suggested it, you know, as a way for her to meet the pack slowly. I just… wanted to make sure it was alright with you guys first.”
For a second, Euijoo just stared at him. Then he laughed, shaking his head. “Why are you asking permission for something like that? She’s your mate, Jo. Of course you can invite her over.” Jo chuckled, embarrassed. “Yeah… I guess it is kind of weird asking. But it felt right.” Fuma placed the last item on the shelf before turning to Jo, his expression steady but kind. “Everything will be okay, Jo. Bring her. We’ll make her feel welcome.” The knot of tension in Jo’s chest loosened further. He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you.”
Just as their conversation wrapped up, Sora came running across the hall, her voice bright. “Euijoo!” He turned instantly, a big smile tugging at his lips. He opened his arms without hesitation, catching her easily as she leapt into him. “Missed you,” she said, her grin softening as she kissed him.
Jo blinked, watching them with quiet surprise. He still remembered how Euijoo had nearly broken himself pushing her away at first. To see him like this now, smiling, holding her so close, was something else entirely. Fuma shook his head, an amused scoff leaving him. “Unbelievable. A few weeks ago, you hated each other, well, at least you did, Euijoo, and now you can’t be apart for an hour.”
Color rushed to Euijoo’s face, his ears tinting red, but Sora only laughed. She turned her head to grin at Fuma. “Oh, don’t tease him too much. You’ll be just the same once you find your mate.” That earned her a round of chuckles, from Jo, from Fuma himself, even a low snort from Euijoo as he pressed his forehead briefly against hers. Jo smiled to himself, warmth filling his chest. The house felt lighter these days, brighter. And maybe, just maybe, bringing (Y/n) into it would be easier than he feared.
~~~
Once Monday came around, Jo could hardly wait to see (Y/n). He went straight to the library after class, his heart light with anticipation. But as he stepped inside, the familiar spark of her scent wasn’t there. He inhaled deeply, trying again. Nothing fresh. Only the faintest trace lingering from Friday, a fragile thread barely clinging to the air.
Jo sat at his usual table anyway, sketchbook in front of him, his leg bouncing under the desk as he waited. Minutes bled into an hour. Then two. But she didn’t show up. Frowning, Jo pulled out his phone and typed a quick message. Hey, are you okay? I’m at the library, but you’re not here. He stared at the screen, willing it to light up with her reply. But nothing came. An uneasy knot tightened in his stomach. His wolf stirred restlessly, whining. Something felt wrong.
Finally, Jo stood and crossed over to the front desk, where another assistant was shelving books. He hesitated, then found his courage. “Um… do you know where (Y/n) is today?” The assistant looked up and shrugged. “Oh, she called in sick this morning.” Jo froze, his grip tightening on the strap of his bag. “Sick?” “Yeah,” the assistant said casually, already turning back to the stack of books. Jo murmured a quiet thanks before stepping back, his mind spinning. She hadn’t answered his text. She was sick. But how sick? Was she okay? His wolf pressed harder against him, the urge to go to her growing stronger with every second.
Jo didn’t waste another second. He gathered his things in a rush, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he left the library. The moment he stepped outside, he pulled out his phone and hit call. To his relief, (Y/n) answered, but the sound of her voice made his chest ache.
“Hello?” she croaked, her voice thin and weak. “(Y/n)… you sound really sick,” Jo said softly, his worry sharpening with every word she forced out. “What’s wrong?” “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I woke up this morning with a fever. My body aches all over, and I feel exhausted. I think it’s just the flu, or maybe a really bad cold…” Jo’s wolf whimpered, his protective instincts clawing at him. “Send me your address.” There was a pause, then a tired little sigh. “Okay.” Within seconds, his phone buzzed with her location. She didn’t question it, didn’t argue, she trusted him.
Jo’s heart clenched. He swore to himself right then he wouldn’t let her down. He broke into a jog, heading for the nearest convenience store. His mind raced as he grabbed a basket and started filling it, bottled water, sports drinks for electrolytes, medicine for fever, a thermometer, tissues, what he thought was the ingredients to chicken noodle soup, and honey lemon tea packets. He even hesitated by the shelves of heat packs before throwing a couple in.
Anything that might help her, he grabbed. When he finally stood in line, tapping his foot impatiently, Jo thought only of her, burning up in bed, alone, without anyone to take care of her. Not for long, his wolf growled. Not anymore.
Jo balanced the heavy bags of supplies in his arms as he sprinted through the streets, his wolf pushing him faster with every step. Halfway there, he pulled out his phone and called Miyu. She picked up almost immediately. “Jo?” “Miyu, I need your help,” he said between breaths. “How do I make chicken noodle soup for someone who’s sick?” There was a pause, then a warm laugh. “You don’t even have to tell me. This is about (Y/n), isn’t it?” Jo didn’t answer, but his silence said enough. “Alright,” Miyu continued gently. “I’ll send you the recipe by text. It’s simple, easy enough to put together with the right ingredients. If you get stuck, call me or Maki, okay?”
“Thank you,” Jo said quickly, relief flooding him. “Go take care of her,” she said softly. He ended the call, his phone buzzing a moment later with Miyu’s message. By then, he was already standing at the doors to (Y/n)’s apartment building. His heart pounded, not from the run, but from the thought of her waiting inside, sick and fragile, needing him. His wolf growled with determination. We’re here. She won’t be alone anymore. Jo adjusted the bags in his hands, squared his shoulders, and stepped inside.
Jo reached her door and knocked, heart hammering in his chest. He could hear faint movement inside, shuffling steps, the sound of something bumping lightly against the wall. When the door opened, his breath caught in his throat. (Y/n) stood there, pale and trembling. Her usual bright energy was gone, her face flushed from fever, eyes glassy and unfocused. She swayed slightly, holding herself up with the help of the doorframe.
The scent coming off her made Jo’s wolf recoil, it wasn’t her usual warmth and sweetness. It was heavy, wrong, the sickly heat of fever clinging to her skin. His stomach twisted painfully. Before she could even say a word, Jo stepped forward and scooped her up into his arms, princess style, her body light as air to him despite the weight of her surprise. “J–Jojo?” she mumbled weakly, blinking up at him. “Shh,” he said softly, his voice steady but full of worry. “Don’t move. I’ve got you.”
He kicked the door shut behind him, balancing the grocery bags in one hand while carrying her deeper into the apartment. His movements were careful, instinctive, his wolf guiding him, protective to the core. (Y/n) blinked, disoriented. She hadn’t expected him to come. And she certainly didn’t expect him to carry her like this. She’d never realized just how strong he was, how easily he held her, as if she weighed nothing at all.
He set her down gently on the couch, adjusting the pillows behind her. “Stay here, okay? Don’t try to get up. I’m going to take care of you.” (Y/n) stared at him, dazed, her heart thudding in her chest. It almost didn’t feel real, him standing there, fretting over her, his brow furrowed with concern. Maybe it was the fever. Maybe it was the way his voice softened when he spoke. But she couldn’t help smiling faintly. Even in her foggy state, she knew one thing for certain, no one had ever cared for her like this before.
(Y/n) could hear him moving around in the kitchen, the soft shuffle of footsteps, the clatter of pots and pans, the sound of cupboards opening and closing. Normally, she might have gotten up to see what he was doing, but her body felt far too heavy, her head too clouded.
From her spot on the couch, she had a blurry view of the kitchen through the open floor plan. She could make out Jo’s tall silhouette, moving with surprising purpose for someone who clearly had no idea what he was doing. Every few seconds came another sound, metal against metal, a spoon hitting the counter, the muffled thump of something dropped and quickly picked up again. (Y/n) smiled weakly to herself. Even in her fevered haze, she could tell he was trying.
Meanwhile, Jo stood in the middle of the kitchen, frowning at the counter as he looked down at his phone. “Okay,” he muttered under his breath, “Miyu said chop the vegetables… add broth… simmer twenty minutes.” He glanced around, opening random drawers until he finally found a pot, then a knife, then spent an embarrassingly long minute figuring out where (Y/n) kept her cutting board.
By the time he started chopping, his confidence had grown, until the knife slipped and nicked his finger. He hissed quietly, glancing down at the small cut. It stung for a second, then sealed up before his eyes, the skin smoothing over as if it had never been there. Jo exhaled in relief, glancing toward the couch to make sure (Y/n) hadn’t seen. She hadn’t moved. Her head was tilted against the armrest, eyes half-lidded, lost in her feverish daze.
Good. The last thing he wanted was to scare her before she was ready to hear the truth. He turned back to the stove, stirring the pot carefully, the savory scent of soup beginning to fill the small apartment. His wolf purred quietly inside him, content. We’re taking care of her. She’s safe. And for Jo, that was all that mattered.
Quite some time later, the soup was finally done. Jo stood by the stove, spoon in hand, staring at the steaming pot with a mix of pride and nerves. He gave it one last stir before tasting a spoonful. It wasn’t perfect, but it was warm, comforting, and he thought it tasted how it should. Hopefully, (Y/n) would agree.
He glanced toward the couch. She was still there, though now lying down, her breathing soft and uneven with exhaustion. Setting the bowl carefully on the table, Jo knelt beside her. “Hey,” he said gently, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. “You should try to eat a little.” Her eyelids fluttered open, and the smell of the soup hit her. Her stomach gave a quiet growl, and Jo’s lips curved into a small, relieved smile.
“That’s a good sign,” he murmured, helping her sit up slowly, one arm around her shoulders to steady her. (Y/n) managed a few spoonfuls on her own before her strength gave out again, her body leaning back against him. “Sorry…” she mumbled weakly, voice rough. “Don’t apologize,” Jo said softly. “You need to rest.”
He adjusted his position, sitting down behind her on the couch. Gently, he turned her so her back rested against his chest, the heat of her fever seeping through her thin blanket. He could feel how cold her hands were despite the warmth radiating from her skin. Carefully, he reached for the bowl again. “Here,” he whispered, his breath brushing her ear as he brought the spoon to her lips. “Just a little more.”
(Y/n) gave a small, tired laugh, though it quickly turned into a soft cough. Jo waited patiently, rubbing her arm until she settled. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were glassy but soft. “You’re… really sweet, Jojo,” she murmured between bites. His chest tightened, his wolf purring at the sound of her voice. “Just want you to feel better,” he said quietly.
To (Y/n), it almost felt like a dream, the warmth of his body behind her, his calm voice guiding her through each bite, his presence grounding her in the haze of fever. If this was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up.
~~~
(Y/n) slowly sat up, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Her body still ached, but her head didn’t feel quite as heavy as before. She reached for the glass of water and the medicine Jo had set out, taking both before leaning back against the couch cushions.
The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the TV. She had turned it on just to have something in the background, a random series she’d already seen, its familiar voices filling the space with comforting noise.
A few minutes later, Jo appeared from the kitchen. He looked relieved to see her awake, his usual calm expression softening as he came over. “Hey,” he said gently. “How are you feeling?” “A bit better,” she admitted. “Still tired, but the fever’s not as bad.” “That’s good,” Jo said, crouching beside the couch. He checked her forehead with the back of his hand, the way he’d seen Miyu do for Yuma before. “You’re still warm, but it’s going down.”
She smiled faintly. “You’re really good at this, you know.” Jo chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just… trying my best.” “Well, you’ve done more than enough,” (Y/n) said kindly. “You should probably go home before you catch my cold.” But Jo shook his head immediately, his expression turning serious. “I’ll stay.” “Jojo,” she said with a weak laugh, “you don’t have to act brave for me. You’ll get sick too.”
He smiled, just a small, secret smile, and sat down on the edge of the couch. “I never get sick,” he said simply. (Y/n) thought he was just saying that to make her feel better. She didn’t know he meant it literally. She gave him a tired, grateful look. “You’re too sweet for your own good.”
Jo leaned back a little, watching her with gentle eyes. His wolf purred quietly inside him, proud, content. She didn’t know yet, but someday soon, she would. And maybe, when that day came, she’d understand why he would always stay, no matter what.
Jo hesitated for a moment, watching her rub her tired eyes. Then, almost without thinking, he asked softly, “Do you… want to take a bath? It might help with the fever.” The second the words left his mouth, he froze. Bath? What if she doesn’t even have a tub? “Um, I mean, if you, if you have one,” he stammered quickly, ears turning pink. (Y/n) let out a weak but genuine laugh, the sound making his heart flutter. “Yes, Jojo, I do have a bathtub. And that actually sounds wonderful.” Relief washed over him. “Right. Okay. I’ll go start it.”
He got up and headed for the bathroom, finding his way around her apartment with a bit of trial and error until he located the right door. He tested the temperature of the water carefully, making sure it wasn’t too hot before letting the tub fill. The gentle rush of water echoed softly through the quiet space.
When it was ready, Jo returned to the couch. “It’s done,” he said, holding out a hand to help her stand. She took it, smiling up at him as he supported her carefully, one arm around her waist to keep her steady as they walked toward the bathroom. Her body felt small and fragile against his side, and he had to fight the instinct to scoop her up again. His wolf wanted to protect, to comfort, but he knew she’d want a little dignity left, even now.
When they reached the bathroom door, he paused. “If you need anything, anything at all, just call for me, okay? I’ll be right in the living room.” “Thank you, Jojo,” she said softly, her smile tired but warm. As she closed the door behind her, (Y/n) leaned against it for a moment, smiling to herself.
Where had her shy Jo gone? The one who could barely meet her eyes without turning red? He was still there, she could see it in the way his hands trembled slightly, in how careful he was with her. But this version of him… the one taking care of her so gently, so confidently… It made her heart ache in the best way. Because this was still her Jojo, just a little braver than before.
As Jo sat on the couch, listening to the faint sound of water running from the bathroom, he finally glanced at the clock. It was late, far later than he’d realized. He sighed softly. There was no way he was leaving her like this. Closing his eyes, he opened the mind link to the pack. I’m not coming home tonight, he sent, his tone calm but firm. I’ll stay with (Y/n). She’s really sick and shouldn’t be alone.
The response came almost instantly. What? Euijoo’s voice, sharp and disapproving. You know we don’t sleep away from home, Jo. Jo’s jaw tensed slightly. I know. But she needs me. I’ll be fine. Before Euijoo could answer, Nicholas chimed in with his usual easy tone. Come on, EJ. It’s Jo. When has he ever caused trouble? Let him stay. It’s his mate, we’d all do the same.
A few murmurs of agreement followed from the rest of the pack. Harua’s voice came next, teasing. Don’t forget to behave, Jojo. Fuma chuckled through the link. He’s fine. Probably sitting there staring at the floor wondering if she’s warm enough.
Yuma joined in with a message from Miyu, tone soft but playful. Make sure she eats again before you sleep, okay? And don’t burn her apartment down trying to cook breakfast tomorrow.
Jo rolled his eyes, though a faint smile tugged at his lips. Their teasing was comforting, it reminded him that they trusted him, that they knew him. Finally, Euijoo sighed through the link, resigned. Fine. You can stay. But don’t cause any trouble. I won’t, Jo promised.
The link quieted after that, leaving only the faint hum of connection in the back of his mind. Jo leaned back against the couch, letting out a slow breath. The tension melted from his shoulders as he listened for any sound from the bathroom. He couldn’t help smiling softly to himself. Even through the teasing and rules, his family had his back. And more than anything, they trusted him to take care of the person who mattered most.
The sound of the bathroom door opening made Jo jump to his feet instantly. He jogged over, ready to help before she could even take a step. (Y/n) stood in the doorway, her hair damp, cheeks still flushed but with a little more color than before. She looked fragile but less feverish, her eyes half-lidded from exhaustion.
Jo reached out instinctively, steadying her with a hand on her arm. “Easy,” he said softly. “You’re still weak.” She gave him a small, tired smile. “I feel a bit better… just really tired.” Her scent hit him then, warm, sweet, stronger than before. It clung to her freshly washed hair, her skin, her clothes. Maybe it was her shampoo, maybe her soap, but whatever it was, Jo couldn’t get enough of it. His wolf practically melted inside him, humming with quiet contentment.
(Y/n) pointed toward a door down the hall. “That’s my bedroom. I should probably try to get some sleep.” Jo nodded, slipping his arm gently around her waist again. “Okay. Come on.” He helped her walk slowly down the short hallway, careful not to rush her. When they reached the bed, he pulled the duvet back, making it easier for her to climb in. She sank into the sheets with a small sigh, her eyes already drooping.
“Thank you, Jojo,” she whispered. “For… everything.” Jo smiled softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. “You don’t have to thank me.” He straightened, turning toward the door. “I’ll let you rest. I’ll be on the couch if you need…” Her hand shot out, catching his wrist. “Stay,” she said weakly, her fingers tightening around his hand.
Jo froze, looking down at her. Her eyes were half open, pleading in that quiet, unguarded way that twisted his heart. “I don’t want to be alone,” she murmured. Jo’s wolf stirred, conflicted. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But her voice, soft and raw like that, broke through every boundary he’d built. He hesitated, then gently squeezed her hand in return. “Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll stay.”
Jo hesitated only a moment before walking around to the other side of the bed. He sat down carefully, his back resting against the headboard, hands folded in his lap. The soft light from the bedside lamp painted everything in warm gold. (Y/n) turned toward him, her eyes half-open, voice barely above a whisper. “Talk to me, Jojo… about anything. I don’t like falling asleep in silence.”
Jo blinked, searching his mind for words, for something, anything, to say. But everything that came to him felt too clumsy, too small. So instead, he took a quiet breath and began to hum. The melody was old, one his parents used to sing when he was little, before the vampire attack, before the nightmares, before everything changed. It was soft and steady, a lullaby that spoke of safety and warmth, the kind of song that could calm even the wildest wolf.
(Y/n) smiled faintly at the sound. “That’s… pretty,” she mumbled sleepily, her voice fading as she moved a little closer, her forehead brushing his arm. Within minutes, her breathing evened out. She was asleep. Jo watched her for a while, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with hers. He told himself he’d get up, go to the couch like he’d planned, but his limbs felt heavy, the day’s worry finally catching up to him.
He shifted slowly, sliding down so that he lay beside her. His hand found its way to her waist, resting there gently, his thumb tracing small, unconscious circles against the fabric of her blanket. His wolf sighed in quiet satisfaction, warmth radiating through their bond. For the first time in a long time, Jo felt utterly at peace. He closed his eyes. And there, with her soft breathing filling the room, he drifted off, content, safe, and exactly where he was meant to be.
~~~
(Y/n) shifted in his arms, and Jo instinctively loosened his hold, letting her move however she wanted. She turned to face him, her hands resting lightly against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palms.
He blinked sleepily down at her, his hair a tousled mess from the night before. It was adorable, soft and wild all at once. She smiled, then reached up to smooth it out, running her fingers through the dark strands. Jo exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. He didn’t say a word, just let her touch him, every small movement of her fingers sending warmth through him.
Her hand trailed down, resting against his cheek. He opened his eyes again, meeting her gaze. For a moment, the world held still. (Y/n)’s breath caught. She didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned in. And kissed him. Soft, hesitant at first, but full of feeling.
Jo froze, his mind blank for half a heartbeat before his instincts took over. He kissed her back gently, his hand coming up to rest against her side, afraid to move too quickly, afraid she might pull away.
When they finally parted, both of them were breathing a little faster, eyes still locked. Then (Y/n) spoke, her voice low but certain. “When were you going to tell me?” Jo blinked, confusion flickering across his face. “Tell you… what?”
“That you’re a werewolf, right?” (Y/n) asked softly, tilting her head. Jo sat up so quickly the blanket slipped off his shoulders. “How… how did you know?” (Y/n) chuckled, sitting up with him. She reached out and pointed at his face. “Your eyes. They were glowing, golden, right after I ran my fingers through your hair. They’re beautiful, but definitely not normal.”
Jo blinked, stunned into silence as she went on. “And then there’s your strength,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “You picked me up yesterday like I weighed nothing. And your body temperature, Jojo, you’re always so warm, way past fever levels. Add that to the way you reacted when I said you didn’t seem like a werewolf…” She gave a little shrug. “It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.”
Jo’s gaze dropped to his lap. His chest felt tight, his wolf quiet and tense inside him. “Are you… mad?” he asked, his voice small. “Do you… hate me?” (Y/n)’s smile softened. She reached out, taking his hand in hers and squeezing gently. “Of course not, Jojo,” she said, her voice steady and full of warmth. “I could never hate you.” Jo looked up at her, searching her face for any sign of fear or disgust, but there was only kindness in her eyes.
“Would you like to meet the pack then?” Jo asked, still smiling shyly. “You’ve already met Maki, but maybe… you’d like to meet the rest of them too?” “Yes!” (Y/n) said instantly, sitting up with sudden energy. “Absolutely, I’d love to!” Jo blinked, surprised by how quickly she responded. “You… want to go right now?” “Of course!” she said, already getting out of bed. “I’ve been dying to meet the rest of your family! Just give me a few minutes to pack a bag.”
Jo couldn’t help but laugh under his breath, shaking his head. She was like a whirlwind, bright, spontaneous, unstoppable. And he loved it. He followed her around the apartment, helping her fold a few clothes, double-checking that she had everything she needed. Every now and then she’d flash him a smile that made his heart skip, and he had to remind himself to focus.
When she was done, Jo took the bag from her before she could even think of carrying it herself. “I’ve got it,” he said gently. (Y/n) rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. “Of course you do.” As they stepped outside, Jo reached out through the mind link. I’m bringing my mate home, he told the pack, his tone steady but filled with a quiet excitement.
Instantly, replies flooded his head, bursts of emotion from every direction. About time! Harua teased. Be nice, EJ’s voice followed, though there was laughter behind it. We can’t wait to meet her. Even Fuma’s calm, low tone came through. We’ll make sure everything’s ready when you get here.
But Jo, in his excitement, forgot one very important detail, he hadn’t told them that (Y/n) already knew about what they were. He smiled as he looked down at her, her hand brushing his arm as they walked. She was his mate, his future, his heart. And soon, she’d meet his family, the rest of his pack.
When they arrived at the village, (Y/n) could hardly believe her eyes. The air felt different here, fresher, cleaner, almost buzzing with life. Small houses made of timber and stone stood scattered among trees, smoke lazily rising from chimneys. A few people moved about, chatting and laughing, and everything felt so… cozy. So alive.
“It’s like something out of a medieval fantasy,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling as she took in every detail. Jo smiled softly beside her. “Yeah,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “It’s home.” As they neared the main house, (Y/n) spotted a group of boys playing in the clearing, kicking around what looked like a slightly dented soccer ball. She recognized one of them instantly.
“Maki!” she called, waving. The younger wolf looked up, his face lighting up the second he saw them. “(Y/n)! Jojo!” he yelled back, waving enthusiastically. The other boys stopped their game, all turning their attention toward the newcomers. For a moment, (Y/n) felt all their eyes on her, curious, warm, friendly. And then, just like that, they were all smiling and waving too.
She felt something twist gently in her chest, a warmth. They’re welcoming me… she thought. Of course they are. I’m Jo’s mate. They wouldn’t turn me away. Not if everything I’ve read about werewolves is true. One of the boys kicked the ball toward them, a little too hard. It bounced off the ground and was about to hit (Y/n), but Jo reacted instantly. His hand shot out, catching the ball midair with a sharp thwack.
(Y/n)’s eyes widened. She knew he played basketball after their conversation about said sport, but seeing him move that fast, that gracefully, it was something else entirely. His reflexes, his strength, the way his arm flexed around the ball, she could tell it was instinct, not just training.
He tossed the ball back easily, his lips curving in a soft, almost shy smile. “Sorry about that,” he said to (Y/n), his eyes glancing over her face, making sure she was okay. She just laughed. “You’re full of surprises, Jojo.” Jo rubbed the back of his neck, ears reddening slightly. “You haven’t even met my brothers yet.” She grinned, looping her arm through his as they started toward the main house. “Then I can’t wait to.”
The rest of the boys paused their game to come over and greet her, smiles wide and energy high. The first to speak was a bright-eyed wolf with a mischievous grin. “Hey! I’m Taki!” he said, giving a playful salute. His voice was full of energy, it matched the sparkle in his eyes. “You must be Jo’s girlfriend, huh? Welcome!”
Next to him, Maki beamed. “You already know me, obviously,” he said proudly. “This is the gang!” One by one, the others came up to introduce themselves. “I’m Nicholas,” said the tall, broad-shouldered one with sharp eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile that made her immediately feel at ease, his smile so different from his eyes. “It’s great to finally meet you, (Y/n). Jo talks about you all the time.”
“I do not,” Jo mumbled, turning red. The next was a calm, strong-looking wolf with a steady presence. “I’m Fuma. It’s good to have you here,” he said, his tone respectful but warm. And finally, a boy with an easy smile and sharp, bright eyes stepped forward, his features almost cat-like. “Yuma,” he said simply, extending his hand. “Nice to meet the girl who finally got our Jo to open up.”
(Y/n) shook his hand, laughing softly. “Nice to meet you all,” she said, her heart fluttering from how… nice they all were. Not intimidating. Not cold. Just warm, playful, and clearly happy to meet her. As Jo gently took her hand again and began leading her toward the house, she looked back once more, the boys had already gone back to their game, but a few of them waved again before returning to their teasing and laughter.
Just as they reached the porch, the door opened, and three girls came walking out, arm in arm, laughing about something. They stopped when they saw Jo and (Y/n), and all three broke into smiles. “Oh! You must be (Y/n)!” said the tallest one, stepping forward first. “I’m Aya.” (Y/n) shook her hand, noting her elegant confidence and kind smile.
“I’m Miyu,” said the second, her smile as radiant as her eyes. “I own Koyomi, I think Jo took you there on a date,” (Y/n)’s eyes widened. “Oh! Yes! Your restaurant is amazing!” Miyu grinned proudly. “Thank you.”
The third girl extended her hand, her skin was cool, almost icy, and her beauty had an ethereal quality to it. “Sora,” she said softly. (Y/n) hesitated for a moment, noticing the temperature of her touch. It was almost… cold enough to remind her of something out of a storybook. She smiled anyway. She could probably pass as a vampire, (Y/n) thought, amused. But that’s ridiculous… right?
Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something extraordinary about all of them. And when she glanced up at Jo, his quiet pride, his calm strength, she had a feeling she’d find out soon enough.
She also couldn’t help but notice the way the girls looked at certain wolves, Miyu’s gaze kept flicking toward the field where Yuma was playing, Aya’s expression softened whenever she looked toward the forest, presumably where her mate was. Just then, another guy walked out onto the porch.
The wolf who had just stepped out onto the porch was tall, broad-shouldered, and carried himself with quiet authority. Sora immediately slipped her hand into his, and he looked down at her with a soft smile before turning his gaze to (Y/n). (Y/n) smiled to herself. So, she was right, they were the mates.
“I’m Euijoo,” he said, his tone gentle but strong, the kind of voice that carried calm even when he wasn’t trying. “Most just call me EJ.” “Hi,” (Y/n) said, smiling a little shyly. She could tell immediately that he was one of the leaders here, there was something steady in his eyes, something protective.
Jo’s hand tightened around hers in encouragement, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. “Now there’s only two more you need to meet,” he said softly, glancing at her before looking back toward the house. “Kei and Harua.”
As if on cue, the door opened again, and a shorter boy with a bright grin appeared. His hair was a bit messy, and he radiated an energy that instantly put (Y/n) at ease. The newcomer chuckled and waved as he walked toward them. “Hey! You must be (Y/n), right? I’m Harua.” (Y/n) smiled, returning the greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, Harua.” “Same here,” he said warmly. “Welcome to our home.” “Thanks,” she said. “It’s really beautiful here.”
Jo stood a little taller beside her, clearly proud. “Now you’ve met almost everyone,” he said, smiling. “Just Kei left, our oldest brother.” EJ nodded in agreement, still holding Sora close. “He’s out on a walk right now,” he said smoothly. “But he’ll be back any minute.”
(Y/n) nodded, glancing toward the forest at the edge of the clearing. There was something serene about this place, about all of them. She didn’t know what she had expected when Jo told her he wanted her to meet his family, but it wasn’t this. It was so much more. Warm smiles, teasing laughter, the faint scent of pine and smoke in the air… everything about it felt like home.
And for Jo, seeing her there, laughing softly with Harua and nodding politely to EJ, made something deep in his chest settle. His wolf purred quietly inside him, proud and content. She was here. With them. His mate, standing in the middle of his pack.
It wasn’t long, maybe five minutes later, when a tall figure appeared between the trees. The air shifted slightly, as if even the forest itself recognized him. His steps were confident, calm, and the second Aya saw him, her entire face lit up. “Kei!” she called out. She ran toward him without hesitation, and he barely had time to open his arms before she jumped into them. He caught her effortlessly, spinning her once before setting her down, his laughter rumbling low and warm.
The scene made (Y/n)’s heart swell. The way Kei looked at Aya, like she was his entire world, it reminded her of how Jo looked at her. How he always looked at her. She smiled softly, her gaze drifting up to the wolf at her side. Just last night, he had lifted her in the same way, as if she weighed nothing at all. And though he’d been careful, gentle, she’d felt the quiet power beneath it.
The love she saw between the wolves and their mates felt so pure, so real. It wasn’t some over-the-top fairytale romance, but something deeper, unspoken devotion, safety, warmth. And standing here, surrounded by them, she felt it too. Jo’s arm slipped easily around her waist as if it belonged there, as if it had always been there. His touch was grounding, warm, she leaned into it without a thought, her hand resting against his chest.
He looked down at her, that small, shy smile tugging at his lips, the one that made her heart do somersaults. The pack noticed, of course. There were a few teasing grins, a quiet whistle from Taki before Fuma gave him a firm look that made him stop instantly. Jo rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling. Everything felt perfect, natural, like she’d always been meant to stand here among them. All that was left now… was to tell them the truth. That (Y/n) already knew.
After the group moved inside, sitting down at the dinner table, with the girls sitting on their mates’ laps, because of lack of space. The conversation started innocently enough. Harua, being Harua, had no idea what kind of chaos his question would unleash. “So, (Y/n),” he began cheerfully, leaning his elbows on the table. “What is it you like about our Jo?”
Jo froze mid-sip of water. “Harua…” he started, already feeling his ears burn, but it was too late. (Y/n) blinked, caught off guard, and then blushed. She didn’t blush often, but right now her cheeks were pink, and Jo’s heart melted a little at the sight.
She leaned slightly more into him, and as if by instinct, his arm tightened protectively around her waist. “Well,” she started softly, glancing up at Jo before turning back to the others, “I like how he always listens. Even when I talk about something he’s not interested in, he still remembers every little detail. He’s calm and collected, but soft and kind, too. Caring.”
Jo felt his wolf preen under the praise. “He might not talk the most,” she continued, “but when he does, it always comes from his heart.” The table had gone quiet, everyone was smiling, even teasing a little, but there was a genuine warmth in the air. And then she added, almost dreamily, “I also like that he’s a werewolf so different from the stereotypes I grew up hearing about.”
It took about two seconds for her words to register. The silence that followed was instant. Every single wolf in the room froze, eyes wide, breaths caught mid-inhale. And then. “You knew?!” Taki blurted out, so loud that even Sora flinched beside him. (Y/n) jumped slightly, looking confused by their shock. “Yes? Jo told me this morning, or more so I found out this morning.” Jo groaned, burying his face in his free hand. “She wasn’t supposed to say that part yet…”
Miyu’s laugh broke the tension first, soft and melodic. “Oh, Jo,” she teased, resting her chin in her hand. “You forgot to tell us she knew, didn’t you?” He nodded slowly, looking both sheepish and exasperated. “…Yes.” Nicholas burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “That’s so you, Jo! You remembered to tell us you were bringing her, but not that she already knows about everything!”
(Y/n) looked around, smiling nervously. “So… this isn’t bad, right?” “Bad?” Fuma chuckled, shaking his head. “No, not bad. Just unexpected.” Euijoo grinned, clearly amused by the situation. “I think it’s good, actually. Better she knows now than later. You handled it better than I did.” Sora nodded in agreement, giggling softly, placing a quick peck on his cheek. “Definitely better.”
The tension melted into laughter, playful, warm, relieved. (Y/n) glanced at Jo, who finally lifted his head, a bashful smile spreading across his lips. “Well,” she said, looking around at them all, “now you don’t have to hide anything from me.” Maki leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Looks like you fit right in already.” And she did. Perfectly.
Aya leaned forward eagerly, resting her elbows on the table, her curiosity written all over her face. Kei made a small noise of protest behind her, clearly displeased that she was leaving the comfort of his arms, but Aya just waved him off. “Okay,” she said, eyes sparkling, “now we need your side of the story, (Y/n). How did you fall for Jo? We’ve heard all about how he pined over you for weeks, but I want the full picture.”
Jo groaned softly, his hand coming up to cover his face. “Aya, please,” “Oh hush, Jo,” Miyu interrupted with a grin. “You’ve been holding out on us for months. Let her talk!” (Y/n) chuckled, glancing up at Jo, who looked like he was considering melting into his chair. “Well…” she began, trying not to laugh too hard, “for about a month, I noticed how he was staring at me. A lot.”
The pack collectively turned toward Jo, who immediately turned bright red. “I… wasn’t staring,” he muttered weakly. (Y/n) laughed softly. “You were. And the funny part? No one seemed to know anything about him, only his name and his major. It was like you were a mystery man on campus, quiet, polite, but no one had ever seen you with anyone. So of course, I was intrigued.”
Taki leaned forward, grinning. “Intrigued, huh? That’s how it starts!” (Y/n) nodded, her eyes shining with amusement. “The first time I caught him looking, I actually thought I’d spilled ketchup or something on my shirt with how intensely he was staring at me.”
That did it, half the table burst into laughter. Maki nearly fell off his chair. “Oh my god, Jo!” Jo groaned again, burying his face in (Y/n)’s shoulder this time. “You’re enjoying this way too much,” he mumbled, muffled by her sleeve.
(Y/n) patted his head teasingly before continuing. “But the more I saw him, the more I realized he wasn’t just staring, he was shy. Gentle. He didn’t talk much, but there was something so genuine about him. Like… he meant every word, every gesture.” Her voice softened a little, and even the teasing smiles around the table faded into warmth. “And then,” she added with a playful grin, “it also helped that he’s handsome.”
That set them off again. Aya giggled into Kei’s shoulder, Miyu laughed loud enough to make Yuma almost fall of the chair and Fuma laughed loudly. Jo, now blushing so hard his ears were pink, muttered, “Can I die now?” (Y/n) just smiled up at him, resting her hand over his. “Nope. You’re stuck with me, remember?” That made everyone “aww” in unison, much to Jo’s horror, but also, deep down, to his quiet delight.
~~~
A little while later, (Y/n) found herself being led away from the main group by the other girls. Sora had practically looped her arm through hers, Aya following right behind while Miyu chatted animatedly about something related to the restaurant. “Come on,” Sora said with a grin. “The boys can have their own little moment. You’re one of us now.” (Y/n) laughed softly, letting herself be pulled along. “One of you?” Aya nodded proudly. “The mates’ club. We stick together.”
They led her to a bench just outside the house, overlooking the forest. The golden light from the setting sun filtered through the trees, painting everything in a soft glow. It felt magical, fitting, considering who she was with. “So,” Miyu said with a teasing smile, “how does it feel to officially be part of the chaos?” (Y/n) chuckled. “Honestly? It’s… amazing. You’re all so kind. I thought I’d feel out of place, but it’s the opposite. I feel… like I belong.” Sora smiled, her crimson-tinged eyes softening. “You do.”
They fell into easy conversation after that. (Y/n) listened as the girls began sharing their own stories, how they’d found their mates, how it hadn’t been as easy as it looked now. Miyu told her about the night Yuma had fought the rougarou, how terrified she had been, and how proud she was of the wolf who’d almost died protecting her.
Aya laughed as she described how Kei, the strong and composed eldest, had quite literally fallen to his knees the moment he saw her. Sora’s story was the one that surprised (Y/n) most. She spoke quietly, fingers tracing the edge of her sleeve. “EJ and I… didn’t start the way we are now,” she said softly. “He rejected me, at first.” (Y/n)’s eyes widened. “Really?” Sora nodded, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. “He thought it was for the best. But fate…” She looked up toward the sky, her expression softening. “Fate always finds a way.”
(Y/n) glanced back toward the house, where she could see EJ through the window, talking with Fuma, and she could see it now. The way his eyes followed Sora even from a distance. The love there was undeniable, as if their bond had grown stronger because of what they’d gone through.
She turned back to the girls, smiling warmly. “That’s… beautiful. All of it.” Miyu nudged her playfully. “Welcome to the family, (Y/n). You fit right in.” Aya nodded in agreement, her voice light but sincere. “You do. Jo’s been so much happier since you came into his life.” (Y/n)’s heart fluttered. She looked down, a soft smile spreading across her face. “I can see how much you’ve all helped shape him, too. The way he listens, the way he cares… I can tell he’s learned that here, with all of you.”
Sora rested a cool hand on her arm, her smile gentle. “Or maybe,” she said, “he’s always been that way, and we’re just seeing it more clearly because of you.” (Y/n) didn’t know what to say to that, her chest felt warm, full. For the first time in her life, she felt not just accepted, but seen.
Just then, the boys came spilling back out of the house, laughter echoing through the yard. Jo’s eyes found (Y/n) instantly, his expression softening the moment he saw her surrounded by the girls, laughing with them like she’d been part of the pack forever. He walked over, hands in his pockets, that shy smile tugging at his lips. “Mind if I have my mate back?” he asked, his tone gentle but playfully possessive.
The girls exchanged looks, smirking in unison before Aya replied, “Hmm… I suppose we could let you borrow her for a second or two.” (Y/n) laughed, rolling her eyes. “I promise I’ll come back to the club later,” she teased. “See that you do,” Miyu said with mock sternness, though her grin ruined the effect. As Jo reached out a hand, (Y/n) took it without hesitation, rising to her feet. He squeezed her fingers lightly, as if to wordlessly say thank you for fitting in so easily.
Nearby, EJ had wandered over to Sora. He leaned down, his breath brushing her ear as he whispered something only she could hear. Whatever it was, it made the vampire’s face flush a deep pink, an impressive feat, considering her usual cool complexion. “EJ!” Sora hissed softly, swatting his arm. But her smile betrayed her. Jo chuckled, shaking his head. “They’re hopeless,” he murmured to (Y/n).
Before she could respond, Maki’s voice rang out from the driveway. “Miyu! We have to go or we’re gonna be late to the restaurant!” “Coming!” Miyu called back. She turned to the others, waving. “Duty calls. Try not to let these boys set anything on fire while I’m gone.” “Hey!” Yuma protested, but his mock outrage didn’t last long, Miyu jogged over, kissed him quickly, and then darted to the car. Maki grinned over the roof of the vehicle as they drove off.
Aya smiled at the scene before turning to Kei. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone, okay?” she said sweetly, pressing a kiss to his cheek before heading toward Harua, who greeted her with an excited wave. Watching it all unfold, (Y/n) couldn’t help but feel her heart swell. The pack was so interconnected, more than a family, almost like a living heartbeat that pulsed through every shared laugh, every glance, every touch.
And as she stood there with Jo’s arm slipping comfortably around her waist, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d find that, too, that extra bond, that special connection with another member of the pack beyond her mate. But for now, Jo was enough. More than enough.
She looked up at him, smiling softly. “Borrowed time’s almost up, you know,” she teased. Jo grinned, leaning down just enough for his forehead to brush hers. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep borrowing you.” Her laugh joined the sound of the pack’s chatter, blending perfectly into the rhythm of their world, her new home.
~~~
Later that afternoon, (Y/n) found herself sitting at the edge of the pack’s makeshift basketball court, tucked comfortably into one of Jo’s hoodies. It hung loosely on her, the sleeves a little too long, the fabric smelling faintly of pine and paint and something purely Jo. His wolf purred in quiet satisfaction, content knowing that his scent wrapped around her like a promise.
On the court, Jo was in his element. He moved differently when he played, more fluid, focused, the quiet shyness replaced by sharp precision and quiet confidence. The sun caught the sweat glistening on his neck, the muscles in his arms flexing as he dribbled and pivoted. Every time the ball hit the ground, it echoed like a steady rhythm, thump, thump, thump, blending with the distant sounds of the village.
Nicholas and Fuma were giving him a challenge, though both older wolves were careful to keep their strength in check. And none of them let the ball fly anywhere near (Y/n); their instincts wouldn’t allow it. After a while, Nicholas waved a hand, signaling for a break. “You two go another round,” he said. “I’ll sit this one out before Fuma runs circles around me again.” “Getting old already?” Fuma teased, smirking. “Bite me,” Nicholas shot back, grinning as he jogged off the court.
He walked over to where (Y/n) sat, lowering himself onto the bench beside her. For a moment, the two watched Jo and Fuma play, the sound of sneakers scraping dirt and the thud of the ball filling the air. Nicholas’s voice broke the comfortable silence. “He looks happy,” he said softly. (Y/n) smiled, eyes never leaving Jo. “He really does.”
Nicholas nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. The fierce, battle-worn expression he usually carried softened, replaced by something far gentler. “Good,” he said after a pause. “He deserves to be happy.” (Y/n) turned to look at him. “You all care about each other a lot, don’t you?” “We’re a pack,” he said simply. “It’s what we do.”
Then, after a moment, his voice grew quieter, almost hesitant. “Just… be careful with him, okay?” (Y/n)’s brows furrowed slightly. “Careful?” Nicholas glanced toward the court, where Jo was laughing, actually laughing, after Fuma stole the ball from him. It was a rare sound, pure and light. “Jo’s… fragile,” Nicholas said finally. “Not weak, never that. But his heart’s soft. When he loves, he does it with everything he’s got. So just… don’t break it.”
(Y/n)’s chest tightened. She followed Nicholas’s gaze, her eyes softening as she looked at Jo again, at the way he smiled when he turned to wave at her, his cheeks flushed from the game. “I’d never do that,” she said firmly. Nicholas looked back at her then, his usual sharpness gone completely. For a moment, she saw what Jo must see in him, not just the tough protector, but the quiet guardian, the big brother who kept them all steady.
“I believe you,” he said simply. Then he smiled, a rare, genuine one, and stood up, clapping his hands once. “Alright, lover boy, switch!” Jo turned, half confused, half amused. “You’re coming back in?” Nicholas grinned. “Yeah, I want to see if you can actually make a shot against me now that your girlfriend’s watching.” Jo groaned, shaking his head, but the blush creeping up his neck gave him away.
(Y/n) laughed softly, pulling Jo’s hoodie tighter around herself as she watched them play again, this time with even more teasing, laughter, and warmth. For the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged somewhere she didn’t even know she’d been missing. And Jo, her Jo, was at the center of it all.
~~~ The end ~~~
How do feel about this one? Super fluffy, as promised!
I hope you enjoyed reading this one, and sorry if you got a cavity from the toothrothing fluff!
Some of you already speculated/wished that the next part will be for Nicholas or Fuma… We’ll see, or perhaps do you have other thoughts after this one?
Also, do guys have any suggestions for what Jo's mate's name should be in the coming parts? I'm running out of ideas for names, so if you have any suggestions, let me know!
This was so so so so cuteee!!!! Jo is such a sweetheart and I love their dynamics! I think they balance each other out perfectly! I don’t know about her name but somehow I like the name Stella… maybe the English name/version of one other mate?? But really, great job! What a heartwarming story🥰
Warnings: violence, supernatural battles, horror elements, injuries, blood, themes of death and loss, trauma, toxic relationships, emotional distress, I think that’s it.
Featuring Jay of Enhypen
Thank you to everyone who enjoyed ‘At Last’, the story with Kei as he found his mate, and by popular demand, here we have a second pack member findig his mate! This is way longer than the other one, but I hope you will enjoy reading it either way!
Please reblog and comment if you enjoy it!
Taglist: @evemeri, @nadiakittyy, @voucearse, @seodami, @petunia05, let me know if you want to be added!
Networks: @k-records
Yudai/K. 3. Euijoo 4. Jo. 5.
Ever since Kei found his mate, things had shifted. It wasn’t just that Aya was now part of their lives; it was the way Kei smiled. The way the house was quieter in the best ways, and fuller in others. There was something grounding about the bond between them, something steady and sacred.
And Yuma had felt it. He didn’t just see it, he felt it, all the way down to his bones. He’d watched Aya slot into their chaotic world like she’d always belonged there. Watched Kei become softer, surer. Watched them fall into a rhythm that looked like peace. And it made something in Yuma ache.
He wasn’t jealous. Not really. He was happy for Kei. Overjoyed, actually. But still, there was a part of him that buzzed now with quiet urgency, a longing he hadn’t known what to name before.
Yuma and Aya had gotten close quickly after she moved in, drawn together by some natural pull. She was easy to talk to, warm and sharp in the ways that made Yuma feel seen. And maybe it was because she wasn’t his mate that he felt so comfortable around her. She never expected anything from him but honesty.
Sometimes he asked her questions, about how it felt when she found out Kei was a werewolf, and when he told her about the bond. About the fear. About the weight of being loved like that. And she answered him, carefully, gently. Never sugarcoated it. She told him it had been terrifying at first. That she hadn’t believed in soulmates. That it had taken time, time Kei gave her before he told her. That time was everything for her, because she had truly fallen in love with Yudai at that point so it didn’t matter if he was a werewolf or human, or whatever. And Yuma had listened. Really listened. Because he was curious. More than that, he was ready. Or at least, he thought he was.
~~~
The sun had dipped behind the hills by the time Aya and Harua returned home, the front door creaking open to the familiar scent of warm spices and worn-in wood. Laughter echoed faintly from the living room, where a few of the boys were sprawled out on couches, lazily flipping through channels or half-heartedly arguing about whose turn it was to clean the kitchen.
Yuma was there, curled up sideways on one of the couches, sketchbook resting against his knees as he absentmindedly tapped a pencil against the page. Aya smiled as she stepped inside, brushing off her coat. “Hey,” she said, making her way over. “Got a second?” Yuma looked up, his face lighting up the moment he saw her. “Always. What’s up?”
“I’ve been assigned a new piece at the magazine,” she said, slipping into the chair beside him. “It’s a feature on young people making waves in their fields, sort of a success-at-a-young-age kind of thing.” Yuma raised a brow. “Sounds fancy.” “It is,” she said with a playful roll of her eyes. “And Harua mentioned something I somehow didn’t know about you.”
Harua, passing through with a bottle of water, smirked. “You mean how he’s a literal fashion designer with two collections already under his belt?” Aya gave Yuma a pointed look. “That.” Yuma scratched the back of his neck, looking modest but clearly pleased. “I don’t exactly lead with it.” “Well, I want to interview you for the piece,” she said. “If you’re up for it.” Yuma blinked. Then grinned. “Yeah! Of course, are you kidding? I’d be honored. What day works for you?”
They talked briefly, checking calendars and tossing out potential dates, until they settled on a late afternoon later that week. “Oh,” Aya added as she stood, remembering, “I’m also interviewing a young chef for the piece. She just opened a restaurant downtown. It’s supposed to be amazing.”
At the word chef, two heads popped up from the other end of the room, Maki and Taki, like wolves hearing the dinner bell. “Did someone say food?” Maki asked, already halfway across the living room. Aya laughed. “I said I was going to a restaurant, not bringing one home.” “Details,” Taki muttered.
Aya held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, how about this: after I’ve finished the interview, maybe we can all go there one night? Celebrate the article before it even drops.” A chorus of interest followed, with Nicholas chiming in from the hallway to ask what kind of food it was, and Harua offering to check the menu online. Yuma just smiled quietly to himself, the pencil now forgotten between his fingers.
~~~
The afternoon sun had started its descent, casting a soft golden hue across the storefronts that lined the quieter end of the street. Aya stood just outside the entrance of the newly opened restaurant, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat as she took it in.
The place had charm, elegant but not intimidating, the kind of restaurant that invited you in with warmth instead of dazzle. Light filtered through tall windows, and from within came the rich, comforting scent of herbs and roasted garlic, warm bread and something faintly sweet.
Aya’s stomach gave a soft, traitorous grumble. “Smells really good,” Kei murmured beside her, leaning against the car with his arms crossed, watching her with that familiar, quiet smile. She turned to him with a sheepish grin.
“Don’t eat anything until you’re done interviewing,” he teased, straightening up. Then he bent to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Good luck. I’ll come pick you and Harua up from the office when you’re done.” “Deal,” Aya said, brushing invisible lint from his coat before turning away.
She waved over her shoulder as she walked toward the restaurant. Behind her, Kei waited just a few seconds longer before slipping back into the car and pulling away. As Aya turned to the door, it swung open before she could reach for the handle.
A young woman stood there, early twenties, with a calm, clear presence and a professional yet approachable air. She wore a crisp white apron over a soft blue blouse, her sleeves rolled neatly to her elbows. A few stray strands of hair had escaped her loose ponytail.
“Hi! Are you Aya?” the woman asked, her voice light but confident. Aya smiled warmly. “That’s me.” The young woman extended a hand. “I’m (Y/n). Welcome! I’m so glad you could make it.” “Thank you for having me,” Aya replied, stepping inside as (Y/n) held the door for her. The restaurant was even more inviting on the inside, modern wood paneling, open kitchen, small tables spaced thoughtfully. Cozy, but with a quiet elegance that mirrored its owner.
They settled into the corner table, the soft hum of the kitchen in the background and the warm scent of spices wrapping around them like a comforter. Aya set her recorder on the table and gave (Y/n) a quick smile.
“Mind if I record?” she asked. “Not at all,” (Y/n) said, already reaching for a water carafe to pour them both a glass. Aya tapped the record button and leaned in with her notebook. “Okay, let’s start simple. What got you into cooking in the first place?” (Y/n) smiled faintly, fingers curling around her glass.
“Well… I guess it started because I had to,” she said, her tone thoughtful rather than bitter. “My parents weren’t really around much when I was growing up. Work. Fighting. Life. You name it. So, I learned how to take care of myself pretty early.” Aya nodded, gently encouraging her to go on.
“But also, when I was really little, before everything got so messy, I used to cook with my grandfather, on my mom’s side.” A soft smile tugged at her lips. “He was patient. He let me stir things even when I didn’t need to. I think that’s when I first felt it. That comfort. We had fun, I got to learn how to feel the food, to know when it’s good just by looking at it or smelling it, not even having to taste it,”
She glanced down, her voice growing a little quieter. “Later, when I was cooking alone, I found myself going back to those moments. That same warmth. And when I started making food for other people, friends, neighbors, classmates, partners, they’d always light up. Even if they were having a bad day. And I realized, I liked giving people comfort. Even if it was just through a bowl of soup.”
Aya’s heart swelled. She could already feel the story forming in her mind. “And how did Koyomi come to be?” she asked. “You’re pretty young to already have your own restaurant.” (Y/n) laughed softly. “Yeah, tell my sleep schedule that.” They both chuckled, and then (Y/n) leaned back in her chair a little.
“It was a lot of work. I started at sixteen, working in kitchens. Did everything from prep to dishes to delivery. I saved every penny, picked up extra shifts wherever I could. My friends, Lila and Jay, we always talked about opening something of our own. Something with heart.” She glanced around the restaurant with pride in her eyes.
“When we finally realized we might actually do it, we pulled our resources together, pitched a plan, begged a few investors to believe in us, and… here we are. It wasn’t easy. We worked pretty much nonstop. But it’s ours.” Aya smiled, genuinely impressed. “That’s incredible. The space is beautiful. And the energy in here, it feels like someone’s home.” “That’s the goal,” (Y/n) said. “I wanted people to feel safe here. To sit down and breathe.”
After a few more questions, Aya set down her pen, already knowing the article would write itself. (Y/n)’s words had weight, and her passion was the kind that didn’t need dressing up, it simply spoke for itself.
Just as Aya was reaching to stop the recorder, (Y/n) stood up. “Wait here,” she said with a small smile. “I’ve got something for you.” Before Aya could respond, she was already slipping into the kitchen, the sound of clattering dishes and soft instructions echoing faintly from beyond the doorway.
A few minutes later, (Y/n) returned with a tray balanced effortlessly in her hands, which she laid out across the table with surprising grace, two entrées, two main courses, and two desserts. Each dish was plated with care, vibrant and balanced.
“I figured,” (Y/n) said, “if you’re writing about us, you should know what we’re putting on plates.” Aya blinked. “Are you, wait, all of this?” “Smaller portions,” (Y/n) explained. “So you can taste everything without feeling like you need to roll home after.” Aya laughed, already reaching for a fork.
“These are the specials,” (Y/n) continued. “I developed the entrées and mains, with some input from Jay. The desserts are all Lila, she’s basically a pastry genius,” Aya took her first bite and nearly dropped the fork.
“Okay,” she said after a stunned pause, “you weren’t kidding.” (Y/n) laughed quietly. “You like it?” “Like it?” Aya blinked. “I love it!” Aya grinned, savoring another bite.
Aya worked through each plate, entrées with subtle but complex seasoning, mains that felt like warmth on a plate, and desserts that were light but indulgent, she knew this place wasn’t just good. It was special. Once the table had been cleared and the recorder switched off, Aya stood and slung her bag over her shoulder.
“I’ll definitely be back,” she said. “With my boyfriend, and his brothers. You might want to prep extra portions. There’s a lot of them, and trust me, they can eat a whole house if it’s good,”
(Y/n) smiled, a little amused, a little curious. “Just let me know when. I’ll hold a table for you.” She scribbled her number onto a notepad and tore off the corner, handing it to Aya. Aya tucked it into her pocket with a warm smile. “Thanks, (Y/n). Really.” “Of course,” (Y/n) said. “You’re always welcome here.”
~~~
Back at the magazine office, Aya settled into her desk, the lingering taste of warm spices still on her tongue as she began tapping out notes for the article. The piece was already forming in her mind, a story about food, family, and finding purpose early in life. About someone who had turned something painful into something beautiful. Someone who deserved to be seen.
Now all she needed was Yuma’s interview to complete the series. That was scheduled for tomorrow, and she already knew it would be a very different tone than today’s. Quirky. Confident. Chaotic, probably.
Smiling to herself, she leaned back in her chair. Across the room, Harua spun lazily in his own chair, clearly waiting for the clock to hit closing time. “So,” he said, “this chef girl, (Y/n), right? What kind of food are we talking about?” Aya gave him a knowing grin. “The kind that makes you forget your name for a second.” He raised an eyebrow. “That good?” “That good.”
By the time the sun was setting behind the office towers, the place had gone quiet. Aya saved her document, packed up her things, and stood, stretching with a contented sigh. Harua met her by the door, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “You think she’d let the whole pack eat there? You know how we are.” “She gave me her number,” Aya said casually. “Told me to text when we want to come by.” Harua whistled. “She’s brave.”
They stepped outside just as a familiar car rolled up to the curb. Kei leaned out of the driver’s side window, grinning as he caught sight of the two of them full-on sprinting down the steps, chasing each other like kids. Aya squealed when Harua nearly tagged her, then spotted the car and made a break for it. “I call front seat!” Kei laughed, watching her wave like a maniac before flinging herself into the front seat. Harua groaned dramatically as he opened the back door.
“She only wins because you’re in love with her.” “You’re just slow,” Kei called back. Aya beamed, breathless, as she buckled in. “Thanks for the pickup.” Kei glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, a soft smile on his lips. “Always.” As they pulled away from the curb, the car filled with warmth and laughter, and for a brief, golden moment, everything was still perfect.
~~~
The house was warm when they arrived, filled with the scent of dinner wafting from the kitchen, laughter spilling from the living room, and the gentle clinking of plates being set on the table. The kind of domestic chaos that made the place feel alive.
Aya stepped inside first, kicking off her shoes, her cheeks still flushed from the ride home. Harua followed close behind, already calling out a half-joking complaint about having to sit in the backseat. Kei brought up the rear, tugging the door shut behind them. And then…
A sound. Sharp. Guttural. Ferocious. Aya froze in the doorway. Yuma had been halfway across the living room, laughing at something Taki had said. But the second Aya crossed the threshold, his entire body went rigid. His head snapped toward her, eyes blown wide, pupils dilated, his nose twitching in the air like he was tracking prey.
The sound he made wasn’t human. A half-snarl, half-gasp, like something tearing through his throat. He stumbled forward a step, then another, drawn toward her with a force he couldn’t control. Kei moved fast. He slid in front of Aya, hand braced against her stomach to keep her behind him, eyes locked on Yuma.
“Yuma, stop.” But the younger wolf didn’t seem to hear him. His eyes were locked on Aya, or rather, the scent she carried. The trace of someone else. Someone new. Someone important. Footsteps thundered from the hallway as EJ emerged, shirt half-buttoned, tension radiating off him in waves. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded, then saw Yuma’s expression. He didn’t wait. He moved fast, throwing an arm across Yuma’s chest, trying to pull him back. But Yuma was too strong, surging forward with a force that even EJ struggled to match.
“I need to know,” Yuma gasped, his voice wild, almost disoriented. “I need to find her,” Aya’s heart was racing. Kei’s was worse. Because he’d seen this once before. In the mirror. When he had first scented Aya on Harua. And he knew exactly what Yuma was feeling. His mate.
Yuma wasn’t slowing down. Not even with Kei in front of him or with EJ holding him. The scent was all over Aya, soft, warm, unfamiliar, but something deep inside him knew it. Recognized it like a star finding its place in the night sky. His wolf was pushing forward with reckless urgency, desperate to follow it to the source.
EJ’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade. “Yuma.” No response. “Yuma, stand down.” Still nothing. His eyes had gone golden now, flickering with the primal glint of something not fully in control. He wasn’t himself. Not entirely.
And then, EJ dropped his voice lower. Deeper. His eyes turning a blood red. His voice hit the air like gravity. “Yuma, ENOUGH.” The Alpha voice. Rare. Commanding. Impossible to resist.
Yuma stopped mid-step, every muscle in his body locking into place as if frozen by something ancient and sacred. His breathing came in sharp, shaky bursts. His eyes fluttered, returning slowly to their usual brown, the gold retreating like the tide. His shoulders slumped forward slightly. The light in him, dimmed.
“I-” he managed, his voice rough, unsteady. “I’m sorry.” Kei hadn’t moved. He still stood protectively in front of Aya, one arm half-extended, ready to shift if he had to. His other hand curled around Aya’s, holding it tightly. She stood behind him, stiff with shock, her heart thundering in her chest.
“Is she okay?” Yuma asked quietly now, not daring to move another inch. “She’s fine,” Kei said tightly, not unkind, but firm. Protective. “You scared her.” Yuma closed his eyes, the shame crashing down in waves. “I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t… I didn’t know.” EJ exhaled hard, running a hand down his face. “You need to go to your room. Now. Let your wolf settle.” Yuma nodded once and backed away slowly, his steps careful, like he didn’t trust his own body not to betray him again.
The rest of the pack remained still, watching with varying degrees of concern, confusion, and quiet sympathy. Because they all knew Yuma. They knew how big he loved, how deeply he felt. But no one, not even EJ, had expected this. Once Yuma disappeared down the hallway, the weight in the room finally lifted.
Kei turned toward Aya, her hands still trembling. He caught her in his arms instantly, pulling her close and pressing his face into her hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered gently. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.” She nodded into his chest, but her eyes remained on the hallway where Yuma had vanished. Somewhere, someone had just changed everything.
~~~
Two hours passed before the door to Yuma’s room creaked open. The air in the house had settled, but not completely. The tension still lingered in the corners, like smoke after a storm. In the living room, the boys were quieter than usual, speaking in low murmurs as they tried to go about their routines.
Yuma stepped out with hesitant steps, his hair a mess, eyes red-rimmed and tired, but most of all, human again. The wildness had faded, his wolf finally worn out after hours of pacing, howling, and crashing against the inside of his mind like waves on rock. He didn’t make a show of it. No dramatic entrance. No jokes to smooth things over. Just quiet steps across the floor until he saw her.
Aya. Still sitting with Kei on the couch, tucked into his side. She hadn’t moved from him since the incident. Kei’s arm was draped protectively around her, his expression still guarded, his posture alert. The Alpha voice may have settled Yuma’s wolf but his still hadn’t fully relaxed.
Yuma stopped a few paces away. Kei saw him first. His jaw tightened. There was a low, nearly inaudible rumble in his chest, a warning. Not quite a growl. But close. Then he saw the look in Yuma’s eyes. All the heat drained from him. Yuma looked wrecked.
“I just want to talk,” Yuma said, voice soft. Aya glanced at Kei, who looked back at her, clearly reluctant to let her go. But she placed her hand gently over his and stood. Yuma didn’t meet her eyes at first. He moved down to the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of her like a child waiting to be scolded.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I wasn’t trying to be weird or intense or, any of that. I just… I caught the scent and my wolf took over. I didn’t even know what was happening until it was already too much. I swear, I’d never hurt you.”
Aya looked at him quietly for a moment. The others had stilled behind her, watching from doorways, kitchen counters, even the stairs. Then, to Kei’s silent protest and clenched jaw, she crouched down and wrapped her arms around Yuma. He froze, utterly, completely still.
Then his breath shuddered out of him, and his hands gently gripped the back of her shirt like she was the only thing holding him together. “It’s okay,” Aya whispered. “I know it wasn’t your fault.” Behind her, Kei stood stiff as stone. It went against every protective instinct in him to let her get that close, but he also knew Yuma. And right now, what Yuma needed wasn’t discipline. It was grace.
Aya pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Yuma’s eyes. “Next time, maybe just lead with a ‘hello,’ yeah?” Yuma let out a soft, broken laugh, nodding quickly. “Yeah. Got it. Definitely.” He didn’t say it out loud, but everyone could feel the shift. This wasn’t the moment everything was fixed. But it was the moment it started to heal.
~~~
The next morning came quietly. Harua headed off to the magazine like usual, but for once, Aya didn’t go with him. Instead, she found herself in the passenger seat of Yuma’s car, watching the city roll by as he drove them toward his design studio for the second interview in her article series.
Yuma was unusually quiet. Not in a sulking or dramatic way, just quieter than usual. His hands were steady on the wheel, but his shoulders carried a tension that hadn’t quite lifted since the night before. Aya didn’t press him on it. She figured he needed space to sort through his feelings. He’d apologized. She believed him. And she didn’t want him to think he was walking on eggshells.
When they finally pulled up outside a sleek, glass-fronted building tucked between two tall brick storefronts, Aya followed him out and up the stairs. He unlocked a black door on the second floor, pushed it open, and stepped aside to let her in.
Aya expected chaos. Fabric everywhere, threads tangled across every surface, maybe even a coffee-stained sketchbook buried under a pile of shirts. But what she saw stopped her in her tracks. The studio was spotless.
Bright light streamed in from the tall windows, flooding the space with warmth. A long wooden table sat in the center, covered neatly in sketches, swatches, and tablets. Racks of clothes were organized by style and color, not a single hanger out of place. The walls were painted a soft neutral tone, but bursts of vivid color popped from framed fashion prints, bold fabric panels, and accent pieces. A large black-and-white print of an abstract wolf’s silhouette hung above the desk, subtle, but telling.
It was clean. Controlled. Creative. And yet undeniably Yuma. Aya stepped inside slowly, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. “I thought it’d be messier,” she admitted. Yuma gave a small, sheepish laugh as he set his bag down near his desk. “Yeah, I get that a lot,” he said. “People always assume because I’m loud, my space is too. But I like order. Structure. I need things to be just right when I work.”
Aya smiled, turning to face him. “It’s beautiful, Yuma. Really.” His gaze softened, and the tension in his shoulders eased just a little. “Thanks. I, uh, I put a lot of myself into it.” She could see that now. It wasn’t just a studio, it was a piece of him. “Shall we get started?” she asked, pulling out her notebook and phone. Yuma nodded and gestured toward a pair of plush chairs near the corner window. “Let’s.” And just like that, something between them began to mend. Quietly. Naturally. One stitch at a time.
Aya set the recorder down on the table beside her, thumb hovering over the button. But as her gaze lifted, drawn once again to the stylized silhouette of a wolf that loomed just above Yuma’s workspace, she paused.
Something about it felt too real. Too honest. She lowered her hand. “Actually,” she said softly, “I think we’ll do this one off the record. Your story, it deserves a bit more care.” Yuma blinked, caught off guard. “You sure? I don’t mind if you record it.” “I know. But I want to hear it. Just hear it. I think I’ll write it better that way.” Yuma smiled faintly, something fragile in the curve of his lips. “Alright. No filter then.”
He leaned back in his chair, hands folded in his lap, eyes drifting upward, maybe at the ceiling, maybe at the past.
“I didn’t have much growing up,” he began, voice low but steady. “My parents did what they could, but we were broke. Like really broke. They worked odd jobs, moved around a lot, trying to stay ahead of anything that might find us. I think they were trying to protect me. Keep me away from the worst of the world.” Aya said nothing, just listened.
“But that doesn’t always work, you know?” He smiled again, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes. “Eventually, some hunters found the small pack we’d been living with. It wasn’t even a real village, just some half-done cabins strung together out in the woods.” He swallowed hard. “They came fast. I ran. I was barely ten. I didn’t even know where I was running to, just away.”
Aya’s heart clenched. “I waited for them to find me. I waited for days.” Yuma’s voice was barely more than a whisper now. “But no one came. So I stopped waiting.” His eyes dropped to his hands.
“I started building things. Hiding places, shelters. I’d stitch together scraps, old curtains, fabric from abandoned houses, whatever I could carry. I learned to make clothes because no one else was going to do it for me. At first, it was survival. Then it became something else.”
His gaze lifted again, this time, to the racks of vibrant pieces lining the room. “Fashion gave me control. It gave me color when everything else felt so dark. I could choose the patterns. I could choose when something was bold and loud, or when it was soft and quiet. It gave me something that was mine.”
Aya exhaled slowly, her throat tight. “Yuma, I didn’t know.” “I don’t talk about it much,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “But I guess, if anyone should know, it’s you.” She reached across the small space between them and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “You built a life,” she said. “And it’s beautiful.”
Yuma looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment, the usual spark in his eyes softened into something quieter. Something deeper. “Thanks,” he said. “That means more than you know.”
Yuma exhaled through his nose, glancing out the window before continuing, his voice steadier now, though still threaded with something deeper. “When the pack found me, it was like breathing real air for the first time. EJ, Fuma, the others, they didn’t look at me like I was broken. Just lost. And I think that was what I needed most.”
Aya sat quietly, watching the way his hands moved as he spoke. Not fidgeting, just expressive. Deliberate. “I made a promise to myself back then,” Yuma said. “That if I got a second chance at living, I was going to live it bright. Loud. Honest. Even if it scared people off sometimes.”
He smiled to himself. “I don’t want to reach the end of anything and regret not feeling enough. Not loving enough.” He leaned forward a bit, eyes warm with conviction. “That’s why I make clothes. Because there’s nothing more vulnerable, or more human, than creating something with your hands and saying, ‘Here. I made this. I thought of you.’”
Aya felt her chest tighten. “I started with the boys,” Yuma continued, gesturing toward a clothing rack in the corner, where a few more rugged, casual pieces stood. “Making things that felt like them. Pieces that said, ‘I see you.’ And then Kei, well, Kei started modeling, and things just sort of snowballed after he once wore one of my outfits as he showed up at the set, the stylist was intrigued and wanted to know where he got it,”
He laughed, sheepish. “Suddenly people wanted more. I released a few pieces online, and next thing I knew, I was getting calls from stylists, showrooms. It was surreal.” “And now you’ve released two full collections,” Aya said softly, awed. Yuma nodded. “Yeah. They did better than I expected. I still feel like I’m faking it half the time, but” He shrugged. “The clothes speak for themselves. They always have.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The studio was quiet except for the hum of the city outside the window and the faint creak of wood beneath their chairs. Aya finally reached for her notebook again, though she hadn’t written a single word. “I think,” she said, “this might be the most important story I’ve written so far.” Yuma grinned, though it was softer than usual. “Guess you better write it well, then.” “I always do.”
As Aya stood to leave, slipping her notebook and pen back into her tote bag, she hesitated. Yuma noticed. “You okay?” he asked, tilting his head, a touch of concern in his eyes. She looked over at him, lips pressing into a thoughtful line. “Before I go, I think we need to talk. About last night.”
Yuma’s expression faltered. He looked down, fingers loosely tangled in the fabric of his pants. “Right, yeah.” Aya stepped closer, stopping just beside his chair but not sitting again. “I’m not mad at you,” she said softly. “You scared me, yeah, but not because I thought you’d hurt me. I just didn’t understand what was happening.”
He nodded slowly, not quite meeting her gaze. “I know,” he murmured. “I didn’t understand either. Not really. It was like my body moved before my mind could even catch up. I’ve never felt something so, urgent.” Aya’s voice warmed. “That’s why I wanted to say something. Because if that girl I interviewed yesterday, if she is the one your wolf reacted to, I think she could be good for you.” Yuma finally looked up at her, surprised. “You do?”
Aya smiled, small and knowing. “She’s grounded. Calm. Thoughtful. But there’s something bright about her, too. The way she talked about her food, the way she lit up when she spoke about her friends, she just reminded me a little of you.” He laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “You sure she won’t find me too much?” “I think,” Aya said, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder gently, “that if you love her the way I know you will, it won’t matter.”
Yuma blinked, chest tightening at the weight of her words. “I don’t even know her name,” he whispered, a laugh breaking through the ache in his throat. “But I swear, Aya, I already know I’ll love her more than anything in this world.” Aya’s smile widened as she stepped back toward the door. “Then I hope she’s ready.” And with that, she left, leaving Yuma in the soft quiet of his studio, heart a little steadier than it had been the day before.
~~~
Three days later, Aya sat at her desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard as the final few lines of her article fell into place. She read it back one last time, both pieces side by side, before finally, finally hitting send. A deep breath left her chest. Done.
Her supervisor called her into their office that afternoon, holding a printed draft in one hand and a steaming cup of tea in the other. “This,” the woman said, eyes scanning the final paragraphs, “is exactly the kind of story we need more of.” Aya blinked, caught off guard by the praise. “It’s emotional. Human. You didn’t just write about success, you wrote about what it costs to get there. What it’s rooted in. I could feel both of them on the page.” Aya smiled, heart warm with relief. “Thank you.”
The first half of the article centered around Y/n, the young chef who found comfort in the kitchen after growing up in a storm of instability. Her relationship with food had started with love from her grandfather, but Aya had captured the unspoken truth beneath it: that food became her way to protect others in a way she hadn’t been protected herself.
The second half, Yuma’s half, was just as raw. Aya had been careful with his story. She couldn’t write about werewolves, obviously, but she’d managed to keep the heart of it intact. She wrote about the boy who lost everything and still chose to live loud. Who created light out of scarcity. Who found a new family and built something beautiful from the wreckage. She hadn’t exaggerated a word. She hadn’t needed to. And now, with the story set to publish early next week, Aya felt a gentle sense of closure.
~~~
That night, after dinner had been cleared away and the pack was lounging in their usual way, half-sprawled across couches, others picking at leftovers in the kitchen, Aya stood up with a grin. “I have something to share.” The boys turned toward her, a few eyebrows raising in curiosity. “My article’s officially done. Both profiles. It’ll be published next week.”
Cheers erupted immediately. Maki whooped from the kitchen, and Harua spun a fork in celebration. Even Jo grinned over the top of his sketchbook. “You wrote about Yuma, right?” Taki asked, leaning forward.
Aya nodded. “Yuma and that young chef I interviewed a few days ago. Her name’s (Y/n). I was thinking maybe we should go to her restaurant tomorrow night? Celebrate a little?” That got everyone’s attention. “You had me at ‘chef,’” EJ said, already pulling out his phone. “I’m in,” Fuma added. “As long as there’s dessert.” Harua added. Kei reached over, squeezing Aya’s hand. “I’ll go wherever you go.”
Aya laughed and texted (Y/n) before anyone could change their mind. Hey! Do you possibly have a table for ten tomorrow night around seven? Would love to bring my boyfriend and his brothers to try the food! The response came quickly: Of course! I’ll make sure you have a special table. Looking forward to finally meeting the whole gang, especially the mysterious boyfriend ;)
Aya smiled to herself and looked up. “We’ve got a reservation at seven.” The pack cheered again, voices overlapping as they speculated what dishes might be served. But one person didn’t join in the noise. Yuma.
He sat a little quieter than usual, arms folded over his chest, his gaze fixed somewhere far away. Aya noticed. So did Kei. “What’s up?” Aya asked gently, approaching. Yuma hesitated, then met her eyes. “What if, what if she’s the one?” Aya tilted her head. “(Y/n)?”
He nodded slowly. “I don’t know for sure. But when you came home after meeting her, something happened in me. And if it’s her, what if I lose control again? What if I mess it all up before it even starts?” Kei stood and placed a firm hand on Yuma’s shoulder. “You won’t,” he said. “ We’ll be there if you need us to help you, just because I overreacted doesn’t mean you will, just remember to breathe, okay?”
Yuma tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. Still, he nodded. “I just, I hope my heart doesn’t get ahead of me.” “Too late for that,” Maki called from the kitchen, grinning. “Your heart is always ahead of you, Yuma.” Laughter rippled through the room, and for a moment, it lightened the air. But as Yuma leaned back into the couch, eyes drifting toward the window and the stars beyond, a single thought echoed in his mind: Please let her be mine.
~~~
The next day dragged on like molasses. Yuma’s nerves were at a record high, and it showed. He dropped pins, knocked over fabric bolts, and somehow managed to spill tea on a mood board. Twice. His colleagues exchanged glances behind his back. But they didn’t ask questions. Yuma was a little odd sometimes, passionate, intense. Today was just, more of everything.
By the time he got home, the sun was low in the sky and the scent of cologne and hairspray lingered thick in the air. Everyone in the pack was getting ready for dinner. Everyone except Yuma. He was standing in front of his closet, unmoving, staring at a dozen perfectly styled outfits like none of them were good enough. Again.
Fuma leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. “You know, for a fashion designer, you’re kind of a disaster right now.” Yuma flinched. “I know. I’m trying to calm down, I just… what if I screw this up again?” Fuma sighed and walked into the room, placing a firm hand on Yuma’s shoulder. “I know you think you’re the only one who’s ever felt like this,” he said gently, “but I promise you, you’re not.”
Yuma looked at him, skeptical. “I’m terrified too,” Fuma admitted. “The idea that there’s one person out there who’s meant for you? It’s overwhelming. And beautiful. And terrifying. All at the same time.” Yuma swallowed. “What if I say too much? Or act weird? Or she just… doesn’t want me?” Fuma’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Then you try again. And again. And again. Because if she’s your mate, she’s not here to fix you. She’s here to fit you. Just like you are here to fit her. With all your color and chaos and feelings.”
Yuma’s breath hitched, and then, finally, he let out a slow, steady exhale. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.” “Now put something on,” Fuma said with a small grin. “We’re going to be late.” Yuma cracked a smile, reaching for a sleek black button-down, stitched with warm gold thread along the cuffs forming the shape of the moon from the night he was born. Understated, but his. Carefully chosen.
The drive into the city had been loud, typical of the pack. Taki called controlled the music, Nicholas offered unsolicited restaurant trivia from his phone, and Harua nearly choked on a piece of gum from laughing too hard. Aya, nestled beside Kei in the passenger seat, just smiled through it all. In the other car, Maki controlled the music, Jo and EJ were sleeping, Fuma was driving carefully behind Kei, but Yuma? He just sat in silence, the world was blurry out the window, his mind too worried about what might happen.
Now, standing outside the doors of Koyomi, even the laughter and chatter of the pack faded into the background. His palms were clammy. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. He swore he could feel his pulse behind his eyes. He was shaking. Fuma noticed first, stepping closer to lay a steadying hand on Yuma’s shoulder. His grip was firm, grounding.
“It’ll be okay,” Fuma said quietly, his voice low enough that only Yuma could hear. Yuma nodded, tightly. He wasn’t sure he believed it, but he was glad Fuma was there. He was always the calm one, the one who knew how to be quiet in the storm. Right now, Yuma needed that more than ever. He inhaled deeply through his nose.
EJ opened the door. The pack stepped into the restaurant like a slow-moving wave, 9 wolves in city clothes, laughter on their lips, hunger in their eyes, and a city girl. Yuma stepped over the threshold and was hit. The air was thick with scent. Fresh garlic sizzling in olive oil. Citrus from a nearby cocktail. Rose and amber perfume. Ink on linen menus. Wax from candles melting gently on tables. Wood varnish. Old brick. Velvet.
His knees nearly buckled. It wasn’t the strongest scent in the room; it didn’t roar above the rest. But it sank into him. Wrapped around him like silk. Something warm and heady, soft and spiced and utterly devastating. He knew it instantly. The bond tugged hard and fast, his wolf howled in recognition.
She was here. Somewhere in the tangle of people and voices and smells, his mate was here. Yuma’s breath caught in his throat. He reached instinctively for Fuma, who caught him without question, keeping him upright as the pull nearly dragged him forward. His chest burned. His eyes stung. And he whispered, almost to himself, “She’s here.”
The restaurant was softly buzzing, warm lighting glinting off wine glasses, low conversations blending with the soft hum of background music. The pack stood just inside the entrance, drawing more than a few glances as they clustered together near the host stand. Nine well-dressed men and a woman who walked like she owned their hearts, Aya always did stand out, even in a room full of elegance.
A young man approached, around their age, dressed neatly in a black button-up and apron, sleeves rolled just above his elbows. His smile was wide, welcoming. “Hi there, table for ten?” he asked. Aya stepped forward. “Yeah, I’m Aya. I messaged about the reservation?” Recognition lit up the man’s face immediately. “You’re Aya! Oh, (Y/n) told us about you. She said you were so sweet and that the interview went really well. I’m Jay, by the way, one of the co-owners.”
He extended his hand, and Aya shook it warmly. “Nice to meet you. And thank you for fitting us in.” “Of course,” Jay said, already gesturing for them to follow. “(Y/n)’s finishing up something in the back, but I’ll let her know you’re here. She said she wanted to come say hi personally.”
Yuma’s breath hitched. Jay’s scent was strong, closer to hers than anyone else’s in the room. Yuma’s wolf bristled. His instincts screamed at him to step forward, to put himself between them, to snarl and stake a claim on someone that hadn’t even been spoken yet.
But he didn’t. Instead, he took a breath. A deep one. Fuma, walking beside him, must’ve felt the subtle tremble in his fingers, because his hand rested lightly against Yuma’s back. Not forceful. Just present. Grounding.
Yuma clenched his jaw, nodding silently to himself as Jay led them deeper into the restaurant. Control. He had control. He would not make a scene. Not when he hadn’t even seen her yet. Not when he hadn’t even heard her voice.
~~~
Dinner seemed to blur in and out for Yuma, both too fast and too slow at the same time.
For the rest of the pack, it was heaven. The food was unlike anything they’d ever tasted, each dish better than the last. They ate like they hadn’t seen a proper meal in weeks, Maki and Taki ordering round after round just to “try one more thing,” Nicholas and Harua trading plates halfway through, EJ pretending to be patient but demolishing anything that landed in front of him. Jo as usual ate a lot of rice, and even though this was just rice, he swore it tasted better than the one they made at home.
The table was loud with laughter and clinking cutlery, the kind of easy joy that usually pulled Yuma right in. But not tonight. Not when his mind was fixed on the one person who still hadn’t appeared. Every time the kitchen doors swung open, his head snapped up. Every time a new voice sounded nearby, his chest tightened. But it was never her.
And now they were almost done. The table was littered with empty plates, crumbs, and the last dregs of wine. The others were leaning back in their seats, full and satisfied, waiting lazily for the bill to arrive. Yuma couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his stomach. What if she didn’t come out at all?
Fuma leaned in, his voice low and even. “Hey. You’ve been quiet all night. Talk to me.” But Yuma barely registered the words. His gaze was fixed on nothing, his posture slouched, the weight of longing pressing heavily in his chest. The scent of her still lingered faintly in the air, a constant reminder of how close she was, yet somehow still out of reach.
From the head of the table, EJ glanced over. The Alpha didn’t need to be told what was wrong; he could feel it. The sadness was pouring off Yuma in waves, almost tangible. And suddenly, Yuma froze.
In a blink, he was upright, shoulders rigid, every muscle coiled tight. His eyes sharpened like a hunter’s, locking onto prey. The sudden movement was enough to silence the table. They all knew what it meant. He’d caught her scent. This time, it was fresh. Close. Moving toward them.
The shift in the pack was immediate, subtle, but trained. Kei straightened beside Aya, his arm looping protectively around her. Harua and Nicholas stopped mid-conversation, eyes darting toward the kitchen. Fuma’s hand clamped gently but firmly onto Yuma’s forearm, a silent reminder not to lose himself. EJ’s voice rumbled low, calm but commanding. “Breathe, Yuma.” Because if she was coming closer, they all had to be ready, ready to hold him back if his wolf decided to take control.
~~~ Earlier in the Kitchen ~~~
The kitchen was alive with motion, steam rising from pots, the sizzle of oil on pans, knives tapping in a steady rhythm. (Y/n) stood at her usual station, focus etched across her face as she chopped chives, stirred a bubbling sauce, then darted back to check a pan of sizzling fish.
She barely noticed Jay weaving his way through the chaos until he was right beside her, his expression sharp, urgent. “We need to talk,” he said, low and quick. “Now.” Her heart jumped, hands pausing mid-motion. “What is it? Did someone complain?” “No,” Jay shook his head, eyes flicking back toward the dining room. “Worse.” Her brows furrowed. “Worse than an unhappy customer?”
“That big group I just seated? The one with Aya, the journalist who interviewed you?” He hesitated, voice dipping quieter. “They’re werewolves.” (Y/n) blinked at him, the knife still in her hand, hovering above the cutting board. “You’re sure?” Jay gave her a look. “I can smell them. Definitely not human.”
That sank in fast. She knew supernatural folk existed, vampires, witches, fae, but werewolves? They were rare these days. Supposedly. Jay, of all people, would know. He wasn’t just any vampire; he was one of the rarer kinds, with senses sharp enough to catch details most others missed. If he said they were werewolves, then that’s what they were.
“Should I be worried?” she asked quietly, resisting the urge to peek into the dining room. Jay shook his head. “Most wolves keep to themselves. They’re not usually trouble. Honestly, it’s the vampires you should worry about, not them.” Still, his expression didn’t ease. “Then why do you look like you’ve swallowed glass?” she asked, lowering her voice further.
“One of them,” Jay admitted, “he’s unsettled. Agitated. His wolf stench more prominant. Like he’s holding back something.” (Y/n) swallowed, her knife finally clattering softly onto the cutting board. “Agitated how?” Jay’s eyes flicked back toward the door. “The kind of agitated that makes me want to keep an eye on him.”
Jay had made her promise. “Stay in the kitchen,” he’d said firmly before heading back out to the floor. “Don’t go out there unless I’m with you.” And she had agreed. At the time, it wasn’t a hard promise to keep, there had been plenty left to do. Dishes to finish, sauces to portion, prep lists to finalize for the morning. The rhythm of work kept her busy, kept her mind off the strange twist in her stomach.
But now, closing time was creeping closer. The stoves were off. The last plates had gone out. The prep was done. The kitchen was quiet, too quiet for her liking. And she was tired of waiting. How bad could a group of werewolves really be, anyway?
She glanced toward the dining room door, chewing the inside of her cheek. She’d been working alongside Jay for years, and he was a vampire. A rare type of vampire, no less. If she could be friends with him, if she could handle that truth without flinching, then why should a handful of wolves rattle her so much?
Jay himself had said it, werewolves were usually harmless. It was the vampires you had to worry about. She sighed, tugging at the knot of her apron. Still, she trusted him. If Jay said stay put, then she’d stay put. At least, for now. Her eyes drifted to the door again, and she pressed her lips together. She wasn’t sure how much longer her patience would last.
When Jay finally pushed back through the kitchen doors, his expression was tight but resigned. “Alright,” he said, brushing his hands against his apron. “Time to go greet them. It’ll look strange if you don’t.” (Y/n) exhaled, relief loosening her shoulders. “Good. I was starting to feel rude.” Jay shot her a look. “Just, stay close to me, okay?” She nodded, tying her apron a little tighter before following him out.
The restaurant had quieted some, the dinner rush mostly settled. A few tables lingered, but her eyes found the big group immediately, nine men and Aya, all gathered around a long table near the center. They looked comfortable, laughter and chatter spilling easily between them.
Aya’s presence lit her up instantly, (Y/n) couldn’t help smiling as she imagined telling her thank you again for the article, how much it might help bring even more customers through these doors.
But then, her steps faltered. Something twisted low in her stomach. It wasn’t nerves. Not exactly. More like a pull. A strange current that prickled across her skin the closer they got. She blinked, confused, scanning the table.
Most of the men barely glanced up. A few gave polite smiles. Aya beamed, lifting her hand in a little wave. But one pair of eyes, wide, bright, fixed entirely on her, made the air catch sharp in her throat. She didn’t understand it. Didn’t have words for it. Only that she had never, ever felt anything like it before.
Yuma’s world narrowed the second the kitchen doors opened. The scents of food, chatter, even his brothers, all of it faded into the background when he saw her. The girl walking out beside Jay. Her. His mate. For a heartbeat, he forgot how to breathe.
She was stunning. Not in the way magazines or runways sold beauty, but in a way that made his chest ache. Every movement of hers seemed lit from within, every expression pulling him in deeper. He knew, even if no one else did, that no one alive could ever compare.
Of course, maybe it was the bond. Maybe it was the wolf inside him whispering mine, mine, mine. But even through his own eyes, through his heart, it was true. She was the prettiest woman he had ever seen. And then, her gaze flicked to his.
Something passed between them, sharp and undeniable. He saw the flicker in her expression, the subtle widening of her eyes. She felt it too. Maybe not the way he did, but enough to stun her, to make her pause.
Yuma’s wolf stirred, but not with the wild, feral edge from before. It was reverent. Quiet. Almost in awe. For once, it didn’t fight him for control. It simply looked with him, and in that silent unity, he knew without question: this was her.
Fuma shifted at his side, posture taut, ready. EJ’s sharp eyes flicked between them, shoulders braced in case Yuma lost it again. But Yuma stayed still. For once, there was no urge to leap, no reckless need to move too fast. Because he’d seen it, he swore he’d seen it. She had reacted to him. It was really her.
(Y/n) and Jay stepped up to the long table, and Aya was on her feet in an instant. “(Y/n)!” Aya’s smile was bright, warm, and she pulled her into a hug before she could even speak. (Y/n) laughed softly, hugging her back. But the sound barely covered the low rumble that slipped from somewhere at the table. A growl, quiet, sharp, and distinctly inhuman.
Her eyes flicked, just for a moment, in its direction. She didn’t need to guess who it had come from. Yuma. He was staring at her like she’d stepped right out of his dreams, chest rising and falling a little too fast. For a heartbeat, his wolf was showing.
But then Fuma, seated beside him, gave the subtlest nudge of his foot under the table. A reminder. A tether. And just like that, Yuma swallowed the sound down, his shoulders relaxing by force.
(Y/n) pretended not to notice, her smile steady as she pulled back from Aya. Play it off. Just play it off. They didn’t know she knew. They probably didn’t know about Jay either. Best to keep it that way.
“I’m so glad you came,” she said genuinely, turning toward the rest of the group. Aya beamed, gesturing broadly. “This is my boyfriend, Kei, or well, Yudai but he goes by Kei,” the tall one beside her inclined his head politely, “and his brothers.” (Y/n)’s eyes moved across the table, and one by one, the remaining eight young men offered greetings. Some polite, some more playful. Names stacked quickly in her mind, EJ, Harua, Nicholas, Maki, Taki, Jo, Fuma.
And then, last. He hadn’t looked away from her once, his gaze almost reverent as he finally spoke his name. His voice was bright, almost too bright, but there was a softness underneath. A tremor of something unguarded. “Yuma.”
(Y/n) clasped her hands lightly in front of her, her nerves easing when she asked, “So… how was everything? The food, I mean.” She wasn’t prepared for the chorus of voices that rose up at once. “It was amazing!” “Best meal I’ve ever had.” “Do you do takeout?”
But the loudest of all were Maki and Taki, who leaned forward across the table, eyes shining. “We’re not eating anything else ever again,” Maki declared. “Yeah, you’re stuck with us for life now,” Taki added with a grin. (Y/n) laughed, the sound bubbling up easily. Their enthusiasm felt genuine, boyish, and it flattered her more than any polished review could. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said warmly.
Aya chimed in, her smile proud. “The article comes out Monday,” she reminded, turning slightly toward (Y/n). “Hopefully it’ll give the restaurant a boost. Not that you seem to need much help, it’s already booked.” (Y/n)’s cheeks warmed at the praise, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Still, it means a lot. Thank you again, Aya.”
Around the table, the boys nodded in agreement, the mood light and comfortable, except for the one pair of eyes she still felt anchored to her. Yuma hadn’t joined in the teasing or the praise. He sat quieter than she expected, but not detached, his gaze lingered on her, steady, like he was memorizing the sound of her laughter. She glanced away quickly, pretending to fuss with the edge of her apron, but her stomach did that strange twist again.
(Y/n) gave the group one last smile, clasping her hands together. “You’re always welcome here. Just give me a little heads-up, and I’ll make sure there’s a table waiting for you.” The table lit up at her words. Maki and Taki exchanged triumphant grins, Nicholas muttered something about moving into the restaurant permanently, and even Kei gave a quiet nod of thanks.
Aya reached out, squeezing her hand warmly before letting her go. “We’ll hold you to that.” (Y/n) laughed softly, then excused herself, slipping back toward the kitchen. EJ rose smoothly from his chair, following Jay to settle the bill. The rest of the pack shifted, stretching, talking quietly amongst themselves. Fuma stayed seated beside Yuma, his sharp eyes steady. He was ready, ready to clamp a hand down, ready to anchor him, but he didn’t need to. Because Yuma was still. Too still.
He sat with his hands curled loosely in his lap, his posture deceptively relaxed, but his eyes, his eyes didn’t leave her. Not once. They tracked every step she took, the yearning etched there so raw it made Fuma’s chest ache just to see it.
Yuma wished, God, he wished, he could stand, chase after her, take her hand and just tell her. Tell her everything. That she was his mate. That she was the piece of him he’d been missing his whole life. That all the brightness he carried, all the love he had, was already hers if she’d only take it. It would be easier, wouldn’t it? To just say it. To stop hiding. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. So instead he sat there, silent, his wolf pressed tight against his skin, and watched her disappear back into the kitchen. And he waited.
Once Jay returned to the back, (Y/n) couldn’t hold it in anymore. She leaned against the prep counter, arms folded tightly. “Okay, I have to ask, what was with that one? The quiet one at the table. Yuma. He kept staring. It didn’t feel like he was being rude, just, it was weird. Is that normal for them? You know, wolves?”
Jay glanced at her, then away, his mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure how much to say. “I don’t know them personally,” he began. “Tonight was the first time I’ve seen that pack. But with wolves in general? There are a few reasons someone might act off.” (Y/n) waited, brows lifted.
“Well,” Jay continued, ticking the possibilities off with his fingers, “full moon’s close. That always messes with some of them, gets their instincts sharper, harder to rein in. Or maybe there was tension in the pack. If they fought about something before coming here, that could carry over.”
He hesitated, lowering his hand. “And sometimes- sometimes a wolf will act like that if they’ve found their mate but can’t, get to them, be with them. It drives them a little wild.” (Y/n) frowned, the word snagging in her mind. “Mate?” she repeated, her tone careful but sharp with curiosity. “What the hell is a mate supposed to be?”
Jay rubbed the back of his neck, finally giving in. “Alright. A mate, it’s just short for soulmate. For wolves, it’s not optional. It’s like fate’s already chosen someone to be the other half of them. Someone who’s supposed to balance them out, make them whole. It’s a once in a life time thing,” (Y/n) blinked slowly, letting that sink in.
Jay went on, lowering his voice like even in the kitchen someone might overhear. “I’d bet money that Aya and Kei are mates. Otherwise a wolf dating a human? Not common. They don’t usually risk that unless there’s a bond involved.”
(Y/n) tightened her grip on the edge of the counter. Her mind snagged on that word, bond. “So, you think someone in our restaurant tonight could’ve been Yuma’s mate?” Jay didn’t answer right away. His lips pressed into a thin line, as if he was weighing how much he should say.
“And what about you?” she asked quickly, almost tripping over her words. “Do vampires have mates too?” That one stopped him cold. His eyes flickered down toward the sink, and instead of answering, he grabbed a glass, filled it halfway, and took a long sip. When he set it down, he still didn’t meet her eyes.
Finally, Jay spoke, his voice quieter than before. “As for your second question, yeah. Vampires do have mates too. Not as often as wolves, but it happens.” His expression shifted, something wistful, something heavy. The kind of sadness that wasn’t loud, but lived deep under the skin.
(Y/n) caught it instantly. She had a hundred questions on the tip of her tongue, but something in his eyes told her not to ask. Her gut said the answer would be painful, maybe a story of someone he lost, or someone he could never have. So she swallowed the questions, letting the silence stretch just long enough before she asked the other thing weighing on her.
“And Yuma?” she pressed softly. Jay leaned back against the counter, folding his arms loosely. His gaze slid to the side, avoiding hers. “I can’t say for sure. I don’t know him, and I’ve never seen him before tonight. But, the way he reacted, the way his wolf was struggling,” He shook his head slightly. “Let’s just say, it wouldn’t surprise me.” It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either. (Y/n) bit the inside of her cheek, unsettled by the vagueness, by the possibility.
~~~ A few days later ~~~
The bell above the door chimed, and Jay glanced up from the counter, fully expecting one of their regulars. Instead, the broad-shouldered figure that stepped inside nearly made him drop the stack of menus in his hand. Yuma. Alone.
Jay’s brows furrowed instantly. Wolves rarely went anywhere without at least one packmate, especially not into unfamiliar territory. For one to walk in solo, into his restaurant of all places, well, that meant something. His suspicions from the other night sparked back to life. Someone here had to be Yuma’s mate. And if his gut was right, that someone was (Y/n).
Jay’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t sure if he was more protective or just apprehensive. Werewolves weren’t inherently dangerous, not if they were stable, but he’d seen what a bond left unmet could do to a wolf. It could unravel them. It could make them desperate. And Jay wasn’t sure if (Y/n) was ready for that kind of weight, or if she even had the faintest clue what it meant to be on the receiving end of it.
Yuma spotted him across the dining room, his usual bright grin plastered across his face, but Jay wasn’t fooled. His eyes gave him away, too sharp, too intent. “Afternoon,” Yuma greeted, walking toward the counter with a kind of restless energy in his step. “Place looks busy. Guess Aya’s article did its job, huh?” Jay nodded, slow, careful. “It did. We’ve been packed since it went live.” His gaze flicked toward the kitchen, where (Y/n)’s voice floated faintly over the clatter of pans. And for the first time, Jay wondered whether he should step in, or if this was one of those things fate was going to bulldoze through whether anyone liked it or not.
As Yuma leaned casually against the counter, a strange scent hit his nose. Subtle, but sharp. Not human, not wolf either, something else. Something he couldn’t quite place. His brows furrowed for half a second before he shook it off. It didn’t matter. Not right now.
Because beneath it, stronger than anything else, was her. That sweet, addictive scent he could pick out of a crowd of thousands. It lingered in the air, tangled with the warm, savory notes drifting out of the kitchen. Food, spices, fresh herbs, and her.
His chest tightened, his wolf pressing against his skin, eager, restless. He hadn’t seen her since that night with the pack, and now that he was here, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait.
Jay’s voice broke his thoughts. “You looking for a table? Or?” Jay tilted his head, sharp eyes flicking over Yuma as if he was dissecting every move. Yuma smiled, wide and disarming, but his heart was hammering. “Not just a table. I was hoping to see the chef.” Jay’s lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t move right away. The strange scent clung to him, nagging at Yuma’s instincts, but he forced himself to focus, to stay calm. Because all he wanted, all he needed, was to see her.
Yuma had always been bold. Bold enough to speak his mind, bold enough to throw himself into anything without hesitation, and now bold enough to disobey every word his alpha had given him. EJ’s warning still echoed in his head: take a step back, let fate guide you, don’t push. But patience had never been Yuma’s strong suit.
So here he was, standing in the middle of Koyomi, his wolf restless beneath his skin, determined to take matters into his own hands. He wasn’t going to talk about mates, wasn’t going to dump the weight of his world on her shoulders. He just wanted one thing, one simple, human thing. A date. A chance. But right now, there was something in his way. Or rather, someone. Jay.
The man leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching him with eyes too sharp, too knowing. That strange scent clung to him, irritating Yuma’s senses the longer he stood there. It didn’t help that Jay’s presence was clearly a shield, protective, like he was standing guard over what was his.
Yuma’s jaw tightened. His wolf bristled. “I said I wanted to see the chef,” Yuma repeated, tone a little firmer this time, though his smile didn’t waver. “I won’t take long.” Jay’s eyes narrowed. “She’s busy. And you,” He let the words hang, gaze flicking over Yuma with something close to suspicion. “don’t exactly strike me as someone who came here for the food.”
Yuma leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “I came for her.” He didn’t bother sugarcoating it. No reason to. “And I’m not leaving until I ask her.” For a moment, silence stretched thick between them. Yuma’s heart pounded, his wolf pacing, restless, ready. But Jay didn’t flinch, didn’t move, only studying him like a riddle he didn’t like the answer to.
Yuma’s chest rose and fell too fast, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He could feel it, the way his wolf clawed at him from the inside, demanding to break free. His vision sharpened, narrowed, and before he could stop it, the change flickered across his face. Brown eyes gave way to molten gold.
Jay’s gaze sharpened, but there was no shock in it. No gasp, no step back. Instead, the faintest curl of a smirk tugged at his lips, as if he’d expected this. And then Yuma saw it. Jay’s pupils bled into red. Not the deep scarlet of an alpha’s command like EJ’s, but a lighter, unmistakable shade. The kind that belonged only to one species. Vampire.
The strange scent, the sharpness in his stare, the way he carried himself, it all clicked into place. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Yuma muttered under his breath, baring his teeth just enough to make his point. “That’s what you are.” Jay straightened, voice cool and even, though his own fangs flashed sharp in the dim light. “And you’re exactly what I thought you were. Loud. Reckless. Dangerous.”
Yuma’s wolf pushed harder, gold burning in his eyes as he stepped closer, their energies colliding like flint and steel. His voice dropped, low and rough. “Stay out of my way.” Jay didn’t budge, his red eyes glowing faintly now, daring him. “Not a chance.” The tension snapped tight between them, both creatures ready to strike, wolf against vampire, instincts demanding blood. But before either could make a move… “Jay?”
The kitchen door swung open, and her voice cut through the air like a knife. (Y/n) stepped out, wiping her hands on her apron, brows knitting together as she spotted them standing far too close, both looking like coiled springs ready to snap. Jay immediately blinked back to human, the red gone from his eyes in an instant. He turned to her smoothly, as if nothing had happened. “Yeah?”
Yuma forced his eyes down, struggling to reel in the gold, his heart thundering. He couldn’t let her see. Not yet. But she had. And the way her gaze lingered on him told Yuma she’d noticed more than he wanted her to.
(Y/n) crooked a finger at Jay, her eyes narrowed dangerously as soon as he stepped within reach. “What the hell was that?” she hissed under her breath, her words sharp and fast like knives. “Fangs. In the restaurant. Are you insane?” Jay raised his hands defensively, leaning closer so only she could hear. “Hey, don’t pin this on me. He started it.”
“I don’t care who started it,” she shot back, her voice a furious whisper-yell. “You’re supposed to know better. You’re an owner here, Jay. What if a customer saw? What if Lila saw?” Jay grimaced, shoulders tense. “I was protecting you.” “By flashing your teeth at someone you don’t even know?” She shook her head, exasperated. “Unbelievable. You promised me, no feeding, no fangs, no slips in this place. I meant it.”
Jay bit back his reply, jaw tight. Neither of them noticed Yuma still standing a few feet away, his posture deceptively casual, but his ears tuned sharp. Every word slipped into him like a blade. She knows. (Y/n) knew Jay was a vampire. She wasn’t afraid of him. She even scolded him like he was just some reckless coworker.
And worse, she’d seen Yuma’s own slip. The molten gold in his eyes wasn’t something she could have missed. A cold wave washed over him. Did she lump him into a category now? Monster. Dangerous. A secret that shouldn’t exist. Yuma’s wolf bristled, restless, but all he could do was grit his teeth and look away, fighting the ache in his chest.
When Jay finally disappeared into the kitchen, shoulders still stiff with irritation, (Y/n) turned toward Yuma. She smoothed her hands over her apron, forcing the tightness from her expression before walking over.
“I’m really sorry about that,” she said softly, her voice a little weary but still warm. “Jay can be, um, protective. Overprotective, honestly. I hope he didn’t scare you off.” Yuma blinked at her, his chest tight. Protective. Right. If only she knew it was himself he was trying to protect her from right now. He shook his head quickly, words tumbling out before he could stop them.
“No, it’s fine. Totally fine. I, uh…” His throat felt dry, which was ridiculous. He could stand in front of crowds, make bold speeches to his pack, design pieces that turned heads, but asking this girl a single question? Impossible. Still, his wolf shoved at him from inside, refusing to let him walk away without trying.
“I was actually wondering,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck, “if you’d… maybe… want to go out with me sometime? Like a date. Or, or not a date, if that’s too much, just… something. Coffee, a walk, dinner. Or, wait, you make dinner. Uh,” He stopped himself before he spiraled further, cheeks warm.
(Y/n) stared at him, blinking, caught between surprise and amusement. Of all things she had expected, this was not one of them. For a moment, she thought about saying no, habit tugged at her, the instinct to protect herself from anything resembling closeness. But Yuma’s earnestness, the way his words tripped over each other, the way his golden-brown eyes shone with such vulnerable hope, it tugged at something inside her.
“Alright,” she said finally, her lips quirking into a small smile. “One date.” Yuma’s entire face lit up, brighter than the sun itself, his wolf howling triumphantly inside him. She wasn’t sure why she agreed, caution still buzzed in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t deny it. He was cute. And maybe, just maybe, she wanted to find out what hid behind all that light.
~~~
When Yuma got home that afternoon, it was like he carried the sun inside him. His steps were light, almost bouncy, his grin stretching so wide his cheeks must have hurt. The others noticed immediately.
He flopped onto the couch, barely able to sit still, his leg bouncing, his fingers drumming against the armrest. Taki plopped down beside him, raising a curious brow. “Alright,” Taki said, narrowing his eyes playfully. “You look like you just won the lottery or something. Spill.” Yuma’s eyes practically sparkled. He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper that was absolutely pointless since his excitement made him loud enough for the whole house to hear.
“She said yes!” Taki blinked. “She…?” “My mate,” Yuma blurted, unable to keep it in. “(Y/n)! She agreed to go on a date with me!” His words came out like fireworks, bursting one after another, and then he actually started bouncing in his seat, fists pumping the air. “I can’t believe it, she said yes, she actually said yes!”
Across the room, Kei let out a groan but couldn’t hide the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Aya covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Harua peeked around the corner, wide-eyed, while Nicholas shook his head with an amused snort. “You’re so loud,” EJ muttered, though there was fondness in his tone as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.
“I can’t help it!” Yuma exclaimed, his grin splitting wider. “Do you guys understand what this means? She wants to see me again, me!” “Pretty sure the whole city understands what it means,” Fuma said dryly, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed how happy he was for the younger wolf. Yuma didn’t care. His wolf didn’t care. For the first time in days, he felt like he could fly.
Yuma was still buzzing, mid-ramble about how he was going to pick the perfect place for their first date, when suddenly his grin faltered. He sat up straighter, his eyes widening. “Oh. Right. There’s one more thing.” The change in his tone immediately drew the pack’s attention. Kei leaned forward, Aya tensing beside him. EJ’s gaze sharpened like a blade.
“What is it?” EJ asked carefully. Yuma scratched the back of his neck, chewing his lip, trying to figure out how to phrase it without making it sound like a big deal. “Well… Jay’s a vampire.” The room stilled. Fuma straightened in his chair, Kei’s jaw tightened, and even Maki and Taki, usually so loud, went eerily quiet, exchanging a glance. “And…” Yuma added quickly, “(Y/n) knows. About him. About me. About all of us.”
That set the older wolves on edge. Fuma’s eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. Kei immediately pulled Aya a little closer without thinking, protective instincts bristling. EJ let out a slow, measured breath, but the weight of it made Jo shrink back into his seat.
“Vampires aren’t like us,” EJ said finally, his voice low, careful. “They don’t always live by the same rules.” Jo hugged his knees to his chest, his wide eyes darting nervously to the windows. “They can do awful things,” he whispered. “Things we can’t fight.” Nicholas instinctively pulled Harua closer when the younger wolf reached for him, grounding him.
Yuma, though, he just sat there with a faraway smile, shaking his head. “Jay didn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t. And even if he did, (Y/n) wouldn’t let him. She’s strong. She’s…” His grin returned, softer this time, almost dreamy. “…she’s mine.”
EJ rubbed a hand down his face, muttering something under his breath in frustration. Kei caught Yuma’s gaze, steel meeting fire. “This isn’t a game, Yuma. If a vampire’s involved, and if (Y/n) already knows what we are, it changes everything. You need to be careful.” But Yuma only leaned back on the couch, unshaken, that lovestruck gleam refusing to dim. “I will be careful,” he promised. “But I’m not going to stop. She’s my mate. That’s all that matters.”
Aya stood quietly as the tension in the room thickened, her hand resting in Kei’s as if to anchor herself. She had grown used to the supernatural through him, but this, this fear in the boys’ eyes, was new. Finally, she asked the question sitting heavy on her tongue. “Why?” Her voice was soft, but it carried. “Why are you so afraid of a vampire?”
Silence followed, until Kei exhaled and leaned forward, his tone steady but grave. “Because vampires and wolves have been at war for almost as long as either of us have existed.” Aya blinked. “At war?” Fuma nodded, his expression grim. “We’re both children of the moon, both creatures of the night, but that’s where the similarities end. Vampires need blood to survive. They crave it. And when they first appeared, they took what they wanted. No one could stop them.”
EJ’s gaze darkened. “Until wolves came. We were strong enough to protect humans, strong enough to stand against them. For a while, the scales balanced.” Kei’s jaw clenched. “But over time, vampires grew stronger. They found ways to overpower us. Manipulation. Tricks. Poison. New powers. And then they nearly wiped us out.” The weight of his words pressed against the room.
Harua shivered, tucking himself closer to Nicholas. Maki and Taki exchanged one of their rare, serious glances. Jo buried his face in his knees, his usuall tall fram suddenly looking small and fragile. Fuma continued, his voice quieter. “The wolves who survived rebuilt in small packs. We stay together, we protect each other. But the war never ended. It only went silent. And when a vampire crosses our path…” He shook his head. “It almost always ends badly.”
Aya swallowed, her throat dry. Suddenly she understood the grief she had always seen flickering in their eyes. The boys didn’t just fear vampires, they remembered. “They killed your families,” she whispered, more realization than question. One by one, the boys’ gazes shifted away from hers. Confirmation in silence.
Aya’s chest ached. No wonder they were worried. No wonder they looked at Jay as a threat instead of a friend. To them, he wasn’t just a vampire. He was a reminder of everything they’d lost. But across the room from her, Yuma still had that stubborn, unwavering look on his face. He’d heard every word, and yet, he wasn’t swayed. Because to him, (Y/n) mattered more.
The room had gone quiet, the weight of history pressing down on all of them. But Yuma, restless as ever, couldn’t sit in the silence. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his voice more urgent than defiant. “I need you guys to listen. Jay and I… we almost fought.” That caught everyone’s attention. Kei sat straighter, his hand still wrapped tightly around Aya’s. Harua’s breath hitched. EJ’s jaw twitched, though he stayed quiet, waiting. Yuma continued, eyes flicking from one brother to the next.
“It was tense. My wolf almost slipped out, he saw it, my fangs, my eyes. And Jay… he didn’t even flinch. He bared his fangs right back at me. He’s definitely a vampire. But,” Yuma lifted his hand, palm open like he was offering them something fragile. “(Y/n) was there. She saw it all. She didn’t scream. She didn’t run. She scolded him, not me.” Maki frowned. “She… wasn’t scared?”
Yuma shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest smile. “Not at all. If anything, she looked… curious. Like she wanted to understand.” That smile faded as his voice lowered, more serious than they were used to from him. “Jay’s only problem is that he’s protective of her. Overprotective, maybe. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were siblings. That’s all. He’s not trying to hurt me. He’s just… trying to protect her.”
The pack didn’t look convinced. Kei’s stare was sharp, Fuma’s arms crossed tight. Even Nicholas shifted uneasily. Finally, EJ stopped leaning against the wall, now towering over them all as he spoke. His voice was steady, calm, but carried the weight of finality. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe she isn’t afraid. Maybe Jay really is just being protective. But it doesn’t matter, Yuma.”
Yuma looked up at him, confused. “What do you mean?” EJ’s eyes glinted like steel. “I mean vampires always mean trouble. Doesn’t matter what face they wear. Doesn’t matter how they act. You don’t know who you can trust.” The words lingered in the air, heavy and cold, as EJ left to patrol, the front door clicking shut behind him.
Yuma sat in silence, his fists clenched, the fire in his chest warring with the warning in his alpha’s voice. He couldn’t let go. Not when he was so sure. Not when fate had finally handed him the one person who felt like home.
~~~
When the day of their date finally arrived, Yuma was a bundle of nerves hidden under a crooked smile. He had debated endlessly, cafés, restaurants, even the arcade that Maki suggested with way too much enthusiasm, but nothing felt right. This wasn’t just any first date. This was his mate.
So, he packed a basket himself, filling it with food he knew she liked (and some he hoped she’d like). Then, with his heart pounding, he led her into the wolf village’s forest.
At first, (Y/n) had been hesitant. The forest was quiet in a way the city never was, the air crisp, heavy with pine and earth. But as they walked deeper, she began to relax. Yuma, to his credit, didn’t push her. He talked just enough to keep her distracted—pointing out trees he sometimes climbed, showing her the little wildflowers tucked between roots, occasionally flashing that dazzling grin when she laughed.
Finally, they arrived at his spot. A small pond shimmered beneath the fading afternoon light, the water reflecting the orange and pink streaks of the sky. A soft breeze rustled the leaves overhead, carrying with it the scent of blooming wildflowers. Yuma spread out a blanket beneath a willow tree, his movements surprisingly careful, almost reverent.
“This is one of my favorite places,” he admitted, setting the basket down. “When everything feels too loud, I come here. It’s… quiet. Safe. Thought you might like it too.”
(Y/n) looked around, her chest tightening in a way she didn’t expect. The forest was serene, beautiful, untouched by the chaos of the world. She glanced at Yuma, noticing how his eyes seemed to shine brighter in the soft light, how his usual restless energy seemed calmer here, grounded.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. And Yuma, sitting cross-legged across from her, couldn’t stop the grin that stretched across his face. Not because of the pond. Not because of the forest. But because she was here. They sat side by side on the blanket, picking at the food in the basket. At first, the only sounds were the rustling leaves above them and the quiet ripples of the pond whenever a breeze touched the water.
Yuma wanted to say something, anything, but for once, words seemed too heavy on his tongue. It wasn’t until he caught her sneaking a glance at him that he blurted out, voice softer than usual,
“So… you know about the supernatural?” (Y/n) stilled, her fork halfway to her lips. Slowly, she set it back down and looked at him. There wasn’t judgment in her gaze, not exactly, more caution. “Yeah,” she admitted after a beat. “I know. I’ve known for years.” Yuma’s brow furrowed. “How?”
Her shoulders tensed. She didn’t usually talk about this. But something about the way Yuma was looking at her, like her answer mattered more than the air he breathed, made her push the words out. “When I was younger, a vampire tried to attack me. I was stupid, walking home alone at night, and…” she trailed off, exhaling sharply. “Jay was nearby. He stopped it before it got worse. After that, he couldn’t exactly hide what he was from me. I’d already seen his eyes change, his fangs, you know everything that didn’t make him human.”
Yuma clenched his hands into fists against his knees, his wolf growling inside at the thought of her in danger, even years ago. His golden eyes threatened to flicker through, but he forced himself to stay calm. (Y/n) glanced away, adding quietly, “Since then, I’ve kept his secret. He saved my life. I guess it just… became normal, knowing. We grew closer, and eventually we became best friends,”
Yuma’s heart twisted. Her first experience with the supernatural had been violence. No wonder she looked at him with such careful eyes. But another part of him was oddly grateful, to Jay, of all people. If the vampire hadn’t saved her, she might not even be here.
(Y/n) toyed with a piece of fruit on her plate, then glanced up at him, her brows furrowed slightly. “Can I ask you something?” Yuma grinned, a little too quick. “You can ask me anything.” She hesitated, then said, “Were you… born a werewolf? Or… can people even be turned into one?”
Yuma chuckled softly at her cautious phrasing. “Yeah, I was born a wolf. My whole bloodline runs that way as far as I know. And yes, people can be turned, but it’s really rare. It takes a very specific set of circumstances, and even then, most don’t survive the process, I think last time we heard about a human being turned was like 50 years ago, and it involved a witch, so not really an authentic turning.”
“What is it like? Being a werewolf?” “What it’s like…” Yuma trailed off, glancing toward the rippling pond. He picked at a blade of grass, trying to find the right words. “It’s… life. My normal. I don’t really have anything to compare it to. I don’t know what it’s like to not hear everything within a mile, or to not feel my wolf pacing inside me, to feel the moon give me energy and life, to be bonded with the pack, we’re more than family, it’s indescribable.”
When he looked back at her, his smile was softer, more vulnerable. “But I like it. I like being a werewolf. It’s wild, yeah, but it also makes me feel… alive. Connected. Like I’m exactly who I’m supposed to be.” (Y/n) nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “That actually sounds… nice.” Yuma’s chest warmed at that, his wolf practically wagging its tail. She doesn’t hate it. She doesn’t hate me.
(Y/n) had been quiet for a while, chewing over his words as the forest filled the silence with the hum of insects and the ripple of water. Finally, she set her fork down and looked at him, her eyes steady.
“Yuma… can I ask one more thing?” He smiled brightly, happy she wanted to keep talking. “Of course. Ask away.” She hesitated, lips pressing together, then whispered, “Am I… your mate?” Yuma choked on the sip of water he had just taken, coughing violently as his eyes went wide. “W-what?” (Y/n) winced. “I’m sorry, I… I just,”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at her like she had grown a second head. His heart was hammering so hard he was sure she could hear it. “Who told you about that?” Her silence was answer enough. Yuma swore under his breath. Jay. Of course it was Jay.
He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the pond as if it could give him the right answer. He wasn’t ready to tell her yet, not so soon, but he also couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. Not about this. Finally, he turned back to her, his eyes softer, golden flecks shimmering in the brown. “Yes,” he admitted quietly. “You are.”
(Y/n) sucked in a breath, her whole body tensing. He leaned forward quickly, his hands twitching against his knees. “But listen, I know it’s a lot. I wasn’t supposed to tell you yet. You don’t have to… feel the same right away. Or ever, if you don’t want to. But… you asked, so I can’t lie to you.” His wolf whimpered inside him, terrified that he had just ruined everything, but Yuma held her gaze anyway, baring his truth.
(Y/n) sat frozen, his words sinking in. She had expected it, Jay’s hints had made it hard not to, but hearing Yuma say it out loud was something else entirely. A part of her felt a strange warmth bloom in her chest. He hadn’t lied. He hadn’t tried to dodge the question or feed her some easy excuse. For once in her life, someone had looked her in the eye and given her the truth, even when it clearly hurt him to say it. That meant something.
But another part of her was tangled in confusion. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her sleeve as she asked quietly, “What… what does that even mean? Being your mate?” Yuma’s expression softened instantly, like he’d been waiting for that question all along. He leaned forward a little, careful not to scare her, his voice hushed and warm.
“It means you’re the other half of me. The person fate chose for me. My wolf knew the second I saw you, even when I first caught your scent on Aya,.” His hand pressed against his chest, over his heart. “It’s not about ownership. It’s about connection. My soul… it recognized yours.”
(Y/n) swallowed, unsure how to respond. “So… I don’t get a choice?” Yuma’s eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly, panic flashing across his face. “No, no, you do. Always. Wolves don’t. We only get one mate, and if they don’t accept us…” He trailed off, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But you, humans, you have a choice. I don’t ever want you to feel trapped. Not by me.”
The sincerity in his tone struck her like a chord she didn’t know she’d been carrying. She still didn’t understand everything, not yet, but at least he wasn’t hiding from her.
(Y/n) hugged her knees a little closer, her brows furrowed as she searched his face. “Okay, but… what about me? How would this affect me if I… if I let it happen? What does being your mate actually do to me?”
For the first time that evening, Yuma looked hesitant. His usual confidence, the brightness in his smile, faltered into something uncertain. He rubbed the back of his neck, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“I don’t know everything,” he admitted softly. “When it’s wolf and wolf, it’s… clear. We share everything, scent, bond, even emotions if the connection is strong enough. But with humans…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “It’s harder to explain. It’s still real, still unshakable, but it’s different. Sometimes it’s softer. Sometimes it’s slower. The bond has to grow on both sides.”
(Y/n) tilted her head. “So you don’t actually know what it would feel like for me?” He gave a sheepish smile and shook his head. “Not exactly. But Aya would. She’s like you. Human. She’s… living proof that it works. And she could explain what it feels like better than I ever could.”
Her chest loosened at that, because it didn’t sound like a trap. It sounded like an invitation. “So, you’re telling me,” she said carefully, “that I could talk to Aya, and she’d tell me what it’s like… being with someone like you?” Yuma nodded, a soft spark lighting in his golden-brown eyes. “Yeah. She’d be honest with you. She always is. And I want you to have that. I don’t want you to just take my word for it, I want you to understand it in your own way.”
Yuma glanced at his phone, eyes widening a little when he realized how much time had slipped by. The sun was dipping way lower, painting the pond and trees in warm shades of gold and red. He scratched his cheek nervously before looking back at her.
“It’s getting kind of late,” he said carefully. “I was gonna head home for dinner soon. If you want…” He hesitated, then pushed through. “You could come with me. To the village. My family, well, the pack, they’d love to meet you properly as (Y/n) and not just the owner of Koyomi. And Aya’ll be there too, so you could talk to her if you want. I’ll make sure you get home safe after.”
(Y/n) blinked, her lips parting. “Dinner with your entire pack? That sounds… a little intimidating.” His heart dropped, but he leaned in slightly, eyes soft and earnest. “You don’t have to. I just thought… it could be good. And you’d get your answers. Plus…” He gave a small, crooked smile. “Jo and EJ are cooking tonight. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”
She rolled her eyes at his attempt at humor, but when she looked back at him, she made the mistake of meeting his gaze head-on. His eyes weren’t glowing, but they carried that same quiet intensity, filled with patience and hope. Puppy eyes, damn it. Her chest tightened. Against her better judgment, she sighed and muttered, “Fine. But only because I’m curious. And hungry.” Yuma’s grin lit up the whole clearing. “That’s good enough for me.”
(Y/n) followed him through the clearing, eyes sweeping over the scattered cottages and the big, warmly lit house in the center. It didn’t feel like the kind of place she expected a pack of wolves to live, it wasn’t wild or cold, but alive, almost like a small village in itself.
“Wow,” she murmured, slowing her steps to take it all in. “It’s… bigger than I thought.” Yuma grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. At first, everyone thought having our own little cabins would make sense. Space, privacy, all that. But…” His gaze softened, flicking toward the big house. “We’re wolves. We don’t actually like being apart that much. No matter how many houses we build, we all just end up in the same place.”
(Y/n) chuckled under her breath. “So the cabins are basically decoration?” “Pretty much,” Yuma admitted with a laugh. “Though Kei and Aya use theirs a lot now. But even they come over for dinner. Food tastes better when you share it.”
(Y/n) caught the wistfulness in his voice and found herself smiling despite the knot of nerves in her chest. She thought about her own apartment, quiet, empty, far too big for just her. The sound of voices spilling faintly from the big house tugged at something deep inside her, something she didn’t want to examine yet. Still, she nodded, trying to keep her voice even. “Well, I hope your pack likes guests.” Yuma’s grin widened, a little boyish, a little wolfish. “They’ll love you. Promise.”
Yuma pushed open the door, and (Y/n) was immediately hit with a wave of noise and the sharp scent of something burning. Voices rang out from the kitchen—someone accusing another of “murdering the avocado,” while from the living room came the sound of crunching as a boy lounged on the couch with a carrot in hand.
“Hey, Harua,” Yuma greeted casually, giving the boy a nod. Harua lifted his hand in a cheerful wave, grinning wide when his eyes flicked over to (Y/n). She felt heat rise in her cheeks under his curious stare, but Yuma kept walking, guiding her further inside. When they stepped into the kitchen, (Y/n) froze for a moment at the sight that met her eyes.
Inside the kitchen, (Y/n) couldn’t help but blink at the disaster in front of her. An avocado lay brutally hacked apart, still with its skin and pit inside as though someone had just gone at it with a knife and called it a day. On the stove, what looked like the charred remains of garlic and onions smoked angrily from the pan, filling the air with a sharp, acrid scent that stung her nose. Ingredients were scattered everywhere, half-chopped, untouched, or dropped in the wrong bowls, as if the kitchen itself had been caught in a food fight.
Several wolves were standing around, looking equally guilty and clueless, their voices overlapping in arguments about what went wrong and whose fault it was. The only one actually moving with purpose was bent over the stove, fanning the smoke and muttering under his breath as he tried to salvage what he could.
(Y/n) recognized him, he was either Maki or Taki, Aya had mentioned both names before, but she wasn’t sure which one. Whoever it was, at least he seemed determined to save what little was left.
All heads turned toward her the second she burst out laughing. The sound broke the chaos like sunlight cutting through storm clouds. To (Y/n), it wasn’t scary or off-putting at all, it was messy, homey, and honestly hilarious. God, these boys desperately needed someone to teach them how to cook.
With an amused shake of her head, she stepped up to the sink, rolling up her sleeves as though she’d done this a hundred times before. She washed her hands briskly, the water rushing over her fingers, before turning back toward the group.
“Alright,” she announced, her eyes glinting with determination, “I’ll save dinner.” Her gaze landed on the boy still struggling at the stove, clearly trying his best. “Do you want to help me, uh…” she hesitated, realizing she wasn’t sure of his name. He spared her a quick grin, wiping his hands on a towel. “Maki. I’m the youngest. Also the one with the most cooking knowledge around here.” He made a face. “But… that’s not saying much.”
(Y/n) smiled warmly, the edges of her chest softening. Something about this reminded her of when she was very young, standing on a stool in her grandfather’s kitchen while he patiently showed her how to chop vegetables without losing a finger. Maki was older than she had been back then, and she was no grandfather, but the familiar feeling of passing on comfort through food made her heart swell.
Yuma sat back, watching in awe as (Y/n) moved easily around the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and hair falling into her face as she directed Maki with a gentle but firm voice. She wasn’t commanding, she was teaching, explaining each step in detail whenever Maki asked why something was done a certain way. And the way she smiled while doing it, warm and patient, lit up the room in a way no lamp could.
Maki looked like he was soaking up every word, following her instructions with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for sparring practice. The chaos from earlier was gone, replaced by the sound of vegetables sizzling in butter and the bubbling of a stew that already smelled like comfort and home. Soon, the sharp tang of burnt onions was nothing but a memory, the air now thick with the rich, savory aroma of simmering broth and herbs.
Yuma’s chest tightened as he watched. The way she fit into the pack so naturally, teaching, laughing, cooking like she’d always belonged there, made his wolf rumble with satisfaction. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that she already knew about their world. Maybe, just maybe, it would make everything easier.
Before long, the disaster kitchen had transformed into a miracle. Bowls of hearty stew were passed around the long table, steam curling into the air as hungry wolves dug in. The pack was loud and happy as always, Aya chatting beside Kei, and (Y/n) squeezed between Maki and Yuma, looking a little overwhelmed but smiling nonetheless. It wasn’t just stew they were eating that night, it was her presence. And Yuma thought he’d never tasted anything so good.
Aya leaned back on the swing, letting it sway lazily as she thought about where to start. Then she smiled, soft and a little embarrassed. “Well… I didn’t meet Kei first. I met Harua. He was the one who showed up at my office, bright smile, loud voice, practically glowing. He dragged me into this world without even realizing it. And then…” she paused, laughing under her breath, “Kei saw me one day, and he just, fell to his knees. Right there in front of me. I thought he was sick or something, but no… he was falling for me. Literally.”
(Y/n) chuckled despite herself, but she stayed quiet, listening intently. “After that, it was little things. He started showing up at my work with coffee, always finding excuses to be around me. I didn’t know what it meant then, but I knew he made me feel… safe. And warm. So I asked him out. We went on dates, laughed, talked about everything and nothing.” Aya’s voice softened. “And I kept waiting for him to kiss me, but he never did. Weeks passed, and I thought maybe he didn’t want me like I wanted him. I didn’t know it was because he was terrified I’d reject him once I knew the truth.”
Her smile dimmed, becoming tender. “When he finally told me, about being a wolf, about mates, I thought I’d be scared. But I wasn’t. Because by then, I already loved him. And the bond…” She exhaled slowly. “The bond affects humans differently. For us, it only really settles once we choose it, once we have feelings that can grow into it. But when it does… it’s steady. Strong. I don’t think it ever fades. At least, I hope not.”
(Y/n) found herself leaning closer, caught up in the story. Aya’s eyes softened in the moonlight as she added, “It’s not always easy. Living with nine guys who are loud, overprotective, and sometimes too much? It takes patience. And standing your ground. But it’s fun, too. They’re family. And with Kei…” her cheeks warmed, “…with Kei, every day I feel a little more connected. A little more like I belong here.”
(Y/n) smiled softly at Aya as they rose from the swings. “Thank you… really. For telling me all that.” Aya just squeezed her hand in reply, her eyes kind.
Inside, the house was lively again, voices and laughter echoing through the halls, but (Y/n) felt the heaviness of the late hour settling in her shoulders. “I should head home,” she said, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “I took the bus here but…” she glanced at the clock on the wall, “…there aren’t any more running this late.”
Kei, who had been standing nearby, straightened immediately. “We’ll take you,” he said without hesitation. Aya nodded in agreement, adding, “It’ll give you a little space away from Yuma, too. He can be… a lot.”
Before they left, though, she turned back to Yuma. He was standing a little apart from the others, watching her with eyes so full of hope it almost hurt to look at him. Stepping closer, she took a breath. “I want to be clear,” she said gently. “I’m not rejecting you, Yuma. But… I’m not accepting you either. Not yet. I need some time first.”
For a moment, his wolf pushed against his control, desperate for more. But then Yuma’s face broke into the softest smile she had ever seen. He nodded, his voice quiet but steady. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait. I’m just… glad you’re not shutting me out.”
Her chest tightened at the sincerity in his tone. She offered a small smile in return before following Aya and Kei out into the night. Yuma stood in the doorway long after their car disappeared down the road, holding on to the echo of her words. She wasn’t rejecting him. For now, that was enough.
During the quiet ride back to her apartment, (Y/n) kept her eyes on the window, the soft hum of the car and Aya’s quiet conversation with Kei barely reaching her. Her thoughts were too loud, tangled between Yuma’s earnest smile and Aya’s gentle words about mates.
She slipped her phone from her pocket, typing quickly before she could second-guess herself. Can you meet me at my place? I… need to talk. Jay’s reply came fast, almost immediate. I’ll be there. Might be a little after you, but don’t worry.
By the time Kei pulled up in front of her building, (Y/n) felt a knot of both gratitude and guilt tightening in her chest. Kei waited until she unlocked her front door and waved back at him and Aya, only then pulling away once she was safely inside.
For a moment, her apartment felt too quiet, too still. She was pacing, trying to decide what exactly she wanted to say, when a knock came at her door, sharp, familiar.
Opening it, she found Jay standing there, true to his word, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, eyes sharp but steady. “You okay?” he asked, stepping inside as soon as she moved out of the way. And just like that, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
(Y/n) spoke in one long stream, as if letting the words spill before she lost the courage. She told him everything, the picnic by the pond, how Yuma had admitted the truth when she asked, how Aya’s story about Kei made her wonder what it would mean for her. She confessed that she had never felt as safe as she had sitting across from Yuma, not even with Jay who’d always been her anchor. And yet… that safety came tangled with fear.
Her voice faltered when she spoke of her parents, how their constant fights had carved into her the belief that love was fragile, temporary, a thing destined to break apart. How every relationship she had tried before ended in the same emptiness, reinforcing the lesson she didn’t want but couldn’t unlearn, that she wasn’t someone worth staying for.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” she whispered, twisting her hands in her lap. “I don’t know if I can give him the kind of love he needs. What if I can’t? What if I break him?” The silence that followed was thick but not uncomfortable. Jay leaned back on her couch, arms folded loosely, eyes half-shadowed in thought. He didn’t rush to fill the space, didn’t try to fix her fears with easy words. Instead, he just listened, really listened, his expression softer than usual, his crimson eyes steady on her like he was carrying the weight of her doubts with her.
He stayed quiet, giving her the rare gift of silence, of being heard without interruption.
When Jay finally spoke, his voice was low, almost too calm, too steady for the ache hidden beneath it. “A long time ago,” he began, eyes fixed somewhere beyond the walls of her apartment, “I met someone. Someone I loved.” (Y/n) sat up straighter. Something about the way he said it told her this wasn’t just any story.
“She was my mate,” he continued, the word heavier on his tongue than when he’d explained it before. “It doesn’t happen often for us, but it happened to me. She was human.” His fingers tapped once against his knee, restless, then stilled. “When I told her what I was… she was terrified. She couldn’t see past the fangs and the blood. To her, I was a monster. But I… I couldn’t give up. I spent years proving to her that I wasn’t. Years trying to show her that I could love her gently.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, something between a smile and a grimace. “And when she finally believed me, when she finally chose me back… she was taken. Another vampire. Wrong place, wrong time. I wasn’t there to protect her. By the time I found her, she was bleeding out in my arms.”
His eyes, usually sharp, softened into something raw and unguarded. “I begged her to let me turn her. To stay with me. But she refused. She said she didn’t want to live as a monster. So she died.” Silence pressed heavy between them, (Y/n) unable to breathe, unable to move.
Jay’s gaze flickered to hers then, a faint, almost impossible smile tugging at his lips. “After that, I thought I’d never care about a human again. I didn’t think I could. But then…” he gestured faintly toward her, “I found you. And somehow, my heart opened again. So, tell me, if I could find the strength to love after that, what makes you so sure you can’t?”
(Y/n) didn’t know what to say. Her throat felt tight, her hands gripping her knees just to keep them from shaking. She couldn’t imagine the weight of what Jay had just shared, couldn’t imagine losing someone like that. Suddenly, his sadness from before made sense. The shadow in his eyes every time mates came up, now she understood.
But the words wouldn’t come. When she stayed quiet, Jay continued, his voice soft, steady in a way that anchored her. “Having a soulmate,” he said, “is a beautiful thing. Even if it only lasts a second. It’s worth it. But you don’t have to accept everything at once. You can just… give it a chance. Take it slow. Yuma will understand.”
He leaned forward slightly, catching her gaze. “And I’m sure of one thing, no matter what you choose, Yuma won’t hate you for it. He isn’t built that way. If anything, he’ll be grateful you even tried.” Her chest ached. She bit her lip, then finally whispered, “Do you really think I’m strong enough to do this?” Jay’s answer came without hesitation. “Yes.” Just that one word, said with such conviction, it nearly broke her.
~~~
The next morning, (Y/n) sat on the edge of her bed with her phone in her hands, staring at Aya’s name in her messages. After a moment of hesitation, she typed out her request, asking if Aya could send her Yuma’s number. She wanted to talk with him.
Aya responded almost instantly, her reply warm and filled with little heart emojis, more than happy to share. She also asked softly if (Y/n) was okay. (Y/n) stared at the blinking cursor for a long time before answering: I think so. But I’m still not sure about everything. Aya’s reply came back quickly: That’s okay. Take your time. He’ll wait.
It eased something in her chest, knowing Aya understood. She saved Yuma’s number into her contacts, thumb hovering over the keyboard before she typed out a quick message: Hey, it’s (Y/n). Aya gave me your number. Can you stop by the restaurant sometime today? I’d like to talk.
For a while, there was no answer. Her stomach twisted, but she shook it off and got ready for work, slipping into her usual routine. By the time she opened the restaurant doors, the nervous weight still sat heavy in her chest, but at least the text was sent.
Hours dragged on, and still no reply. Every time her phone buzzed with an order notification or Lila’s playlist changing, her heart leapt, only to sink again when Yuma’s name wasn’t there.
So she buried herself in work. Chopping, plating, washing, writing down supply notes, anything to keep her hands busy and her mind off the gnawing anxiety. Lila, who had known (Y/n) long enough to read her moods like an open book, leaned against the counter as she watched her friend attack a pile of herbs like they were her worst enemy.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Lila said lightly, though her eyes were sharp. (Y/n) didn’t look up. “What thing?” “The thing where you stress-cut like you’re auditioning for a horror movie.” (Y/n) forced a laugh but didn’t answer. Explaining supernatural mate-bonds and werewolves wasn’t exactly an option, so she just muttered, “It’s nothing. Just… my head.” Lila didn’t push, though her brows knitted. She figured it was trust stuff again, (Y/n) had always been careful with her heart, especially after her past relationships.
Jay, on the other hand, said nothing at all. He had been moving through the kitchen with his usual calm precision, but he’d noticed every little shift in her expression. He’d noticed the way her eyes flicked to her phone whenever she thought no one was watching.
But he didn’t interfere. Their talk last night had been heavy, and he knew pressing her now would only add more weight to her shoulders. She didn’t need another lecture or another layer of advice. She just needed space, and the courage to face whatever answer was waiting for her, whenever Yuma chose to give it. So Jay simply passed her a glass of water and returned to his station. Silent support. Nothing more. And still, her phone stayed quiet.
Later that evening, the bell above the restaurant door chimed, and Jay instinctively straightened his posture, ready to greet another late-night guest.
But the moment his eyes landed on the familiar figure stepping inside, a wave of déjà vu hit him. Yuma again.
For a second, Jay braced himself, ready for tension, fangs, or golden eyes, but none came. Yuma stood calm this time, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, shoulders tight but eyes steady. “She asked if I could come by,” Yuma said, voice quieter than Jay expected. Jay studied him for a long moment before his lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Yeah. She’s in the back. I’ll go get her.”
He turned toward the kitchen, but after two steps he paused and glanced back. His red eyes softened. “Be careful with her, Yuma. She’s strong, but also… fragile in ways you can’t always see. Don’t push her too hard. If you can give her the space she needs, I think she’ll surprise you.”
Yuma blinked, surprised by the sincerity in the vampire’s tone. He’d expected Jay to fight him at every turn, to guard (Y/n) like a dragon over treasure. But here he was, rooting for him, at least that’s what it felt like. A slow, genuine smile spread across Yuma’s lips. “Thank you. I will.”
Jay gave a short nod, then disappeared through the swinging kitchen doors to fetch her, leaving Yuma to stand in the dim glow of the restaurant’s evening lights, heart racing with anticipation.
As Jay pushed through the kitchen doors, he spotted (Y/n) at her station, sleeves rolled up, focused on arranging plates for the last of the dinner crowd. He crossed the room, his voice casual but carrying a hint of weight. “Someone’s asking for the chef.”
(Y/n) froze mid-motion, her hand hovering over a garnish of herbs. Slowly, she set it down and glanced toward the dining room. Her stomach tightened with a ripple of nerves as she followed her friend out of the kitchen. Who could it be? A regular? A food critic? Someone with a complaint?
Her eyes swept over the tables, searching, but Jay gently nudged her chin with two fingers, tilting her gaze toward the entrance. And there he was. Yuma stood just inside the doors, waiting, his posture almost uncertain, yet his presence filling the space effortlessly. The soft light from the overhead lamps caught in his hair, in the golden undertones of his eyes, making him look like he belonged in the glow of this place.
The tension in her chest loosened in an instant, and before she could stop herself, a smile tugged at her lips, warm, unguarded, relieved. He’d come. After all her worry, her overthinking, her pacing through the day, Yuma was here.
Before walking towards Yuma, (Y/n) turned and gave Jay a light swat on the arm. “You could’ve led with who it was, you know. Nearly gave me a heart attack.” Jay only chuckled, his fangs flashing briefly in amusement. “Worth it. Go on, I’ll handle the kitchen with Lila. We’ve got cleanup covered. You focus on him.”
(Y/n) rolled her eyes but her cheeks warmed. She smoothed her apron absently, nerves twisting in her stomach as she took the first step.
Yuma’s whole face lighting up. He lifted his hand in a small, eager wave, the kind a boy might give his crush in high school, soft, unpolished, entirely genuine. His heart thudded in his chest, skipping a beat like a lovesick teenager who didn’t know what to do with his feelings. And though (Y/n) would never admit it, not even to herself, her own heart did the exact same thing.
“Hi,” (Y/n) said softly as she stepped toward him. “Hi,” Yuma echoed, his grin spreading wide just from the sight of her. She untied her apron, draped it neatly over the counter inside, then gestured toward the door. “Come on. Let’s step out for a bit.”
Yuma was quick to move, almost tripping over himself in his eagerness, but he still managed to hold the door open for her with a crooked sort of charm. (Y/n) gave him a small smile in return before they slipped into the cool night air.
For a few moments, they walked side by side in silence, the only sounds the hum of the city around them. (Y/n)’s thoughts circled endlessly. Why hadn’t he answered her text? Had she scared him off? But he was here… maybe he just hadn’t had the time. Still, the question weighed on her. Yuma noticed. He always noticed. The subtle shift in her scent, the faint edge of anxious energy rolling off her. His chest ached at the thought of her doubting him.
“I should explain,” he blurted, glancing at her with an apologetic look. “About your text… I didn’t ignore it. I swear.” (Y/n) tilted her head, waiting. “I was so excited when I saw your name pop up on my screen that I, uh,” his cheeks flushed as he scratched the back of his neck. “I dropped my phone. In a glass of water. And now it’s totally dead.” For a second, there was silence. And then, bright and clear, (Y/n) laughed. A sound so warm and unguarded it made Yuma’s chest feel like it might burst. He froze, drinking it in, and thought, I never want her to stop making that sound.
(Y/n)’s laughter faded, the sound still lingering in the air between them. She took a slow breath, her hands slipping into her pockets as they turned into the quiet of the park, the soft glow of lampposts reflecting off the gentle stream of the river.
“Yuma,” she began, her voice more serious now, “I wanted to talk to you because… I’ve been thinking a lot.” At her tone, Yuma’s heart skipped. Nervous energy surged through him, his wolf pacing inside, ears pricked, tail taut. He shoved his hands into his own pockets to keep them from fidgeting, eyes fixed on her like she was the only star in the night sky.
(Y/n) kept her gaze ahead, as if the words were easier to say when she wasn’t looking directly at him. “I want to give you a chance. That doesn’t mean I’m saying yes forever, or that I’ve figured everything out. It just means…” She paused, trying to find the right words. “It means I’m willing to try. To see if feelings can grow. To see if I can… get there.”
Yuma stopped walking. For a second, he just stood frozen, blinking at her, as if making sure he hadn’t misheard. Then joy rushed through him, so pure and overwhelming it felt like sunlight bursting out of his chest. His smile stretched impossibly wide, his eyes bright as he took a step closer, careful not to crowd her. “A chance?” His voice wavered with emotion. “That’s…(Y/n), that’s all I wanted. That’s all I’ll ever need.”
He let out a shaky laugh, unable to contain it, his happiness spilling over. His wolf quieted for the first time in days, soothed by the promise in her words. And though she wasn’t ready to admit it yet, a tiny flicker of warmth spread in (Y/n)’s chest at the sight of him so unashamedly overjoyed, because of her.
They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the soft trickle of the river filling in the gaps. Fireflies hovered low in the grass, and (Y/n) found herself stealing glances at Yuma, who still looked like he couldn’t believe his luck.
But the curiosity that had been tugging at her finally slipped past her lips. “So… I have another question. A supernatural one.” Yuma grinned instantly. “Ask away. I like your questions.” She hesitated, then tilted her head at him. “Do werewolves actually… turn into wolves? Or is it more of a half-human, half-wolf thing? You know, like in the movies?”
Yuma chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Ah, the classics. No offense, but the movies really don’t get us right.” He glanced at her sideways, his eyes glittering with amusement. “Most of us actually turn into wolves. Real wolves. Just… very big ones. Like, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen in the wild. Stronger, faster, sharper senses, it’s our natural form, really.”
(Y/n)’s brows furrowed in thought. “So not a scary monster thing, then.” “Not unless you count having great fur as scary,” he teased, earning a small laugh from her before his expression softened. “But… it’s not always the same for everyone. Some wolves are born with defects that make it harder for them to shift all the way. They can only go halfway, so they end up kind of… stuck between forms.”
Her eyes widened. “Half-human, half-wolf?” He nodded, his smile gentling. “Exactly. Taller, stronger, with the wolf features showing, ears, a tail, claws, fangs. The eyes go gold too, well unless they’re an alpha. It’s… intimidating, but it’s still them. For some, that’s the only shift they can do. For others, like me, it’s a choice.”
“You can choose?” Yuma lifted his hand, flexing his fingers as if imagining the claws sprouting there. “Yeah. I can shift fully, which I prefer. It hurts less and feels more natural. But sometimes it’s easier to just go halfway, it gives me strength, sharper instincts, and I don’t have to completely leave behind… you know, the human part of me.”
(Y/n) studied him carefully, the way his smile softened as he spoke about something that clearly meant more than just biology to him. “Does it hurt? Shifting, I mean?” she asked quietly. Yuma’s chuckle was softer this time, tinged with honesty. “Always. Bones breaking, muscles tearing, everything rearranging. It’s not something you ever really get used to. But it’s part of who I am. And in the end… it’s worth it.” She hugged her arms around herself, shivering at the thought, but she didn’t look at him with fear. If anything, there was something like admiration in her eyes.
(Y/n) kept her gaze on the path ahead, her voice quiet but steady. “I think… I’d like to see it someday. Your wolf form. If you’re okay with it.” Her words were brave, but the small shiver that ran through her betrayed her. It was subtle, almost invisible, but Yuma noticed instantly. His body ran hot, naturally resistant to the evening chill, but she was only in a thin t-shirt. Of course she’d be cold.
Without a second thought, he slipped his jacket off, one of his own designs, tailored sharp but still cozy, and draped it gently over her shoulders. She blinked at him, startled, her fingers brushing the warm fabric as she pulled it tighter around herself.
“You don’t have to-” “I want to,” Yuma said softly, his lips curling into a smile. “Besides, it looks better on you anyway.” Her cheeks heated, and she quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the way the lamplight danced across the river.
“As for seeing my wolf…” He slowed his steps, choosing his words carefully. “If you really want to, I’ll show you. No hesitation. But only if you’re completely sure.” She glanced at him, caught off guard by the seriousness in his tone. His golden-brown eyes were steady, protective in a way that reached deeper than the jacket around her shoulders.
“Why?” she asked. “Because I don’t want to scare you,” Yuma admitted. His voice was low, earnest. “You’re already giving me more than I deserve by agreeing to try with me. The last thing I want is to push you too fast, too far.” (Y/n)’s heart tightened at that. He wasn’t asking for blind acceptance, wasn’t rushing her. He was just offering himself, piece by piece, whenever she was ready.
(Y/n) hugged the jacket closer around herself, the fabric soft and faintly smelling of his cologne, clean, warm, a little woodsy. She’d never admit it out loud, but she liked it. It made her feel safe, cocooned in a kind of warmth she hadn’t realized she’d been craving.
She didn’t need to admit it. Yuma already knew. The subtle shift in her scent told him everything he needed, her comfort, her ease. His wolf practically preened, content that she felt safe in something of his.
But the night had slipped by faster than either of them realized, and eventually (Y/n) slowed her steps with a reluctant sigh. “I should probably head home. It’s getting late.” Yuma nodded, though he didn’t want the evening to end. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Yeah… but maybe this weekend?” Her brows lifted. “This weekend?”
He smiled, almost shyly, though his eyes still held that familiar spark. “Back at the pond. Just us. We could bring food, talk more… and if you’re really ready, maybe then you could see my wolf form.” For a moment she just looked at him, the idea both thrilling and terrifying all at once. But then she gave a small nod, her lips tugging into the faintest smile. “Okay. This weekend.”
Yuma’s grin stretched wider, his entire body practically glowing with joy at her answer. He wanted to reach for her hand, to hold onto this moment, but he restrained himself. For now, just the promise was enough. As they parted ways, (Y/n) still wrapped in his jacket, both of them carried the same thought in their chests: Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.
~~~
When Yuma came bounding through the front door that night, the whole house could feel the difference in him. His steps were lighter, his grin so wide it was almost ridiculous. EJ and Fuma, who were seated in the living room going over patrol rotations, exchanged a look before Yuma dropped himself onto the couch opposite them, practically buzzing with energy.
“I need to tell you guys everything,” Yuma blurted out. And then he did, about Jay, how the vampire hadn’t been hostile this time, how he’d even seemed supportive. About (Y/n), how she’d smiled when she saw him, how she’d given him a chance. And finally, about Saturday.
“…so we’re going back to the pond,” Yuma finished, his eyes gleaming, “and if she’s ready, I’m going to show her my wolf.” The silence that followed was heavy. EJ leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, a frown pulling at his mouth. Fuma pinched the bridge of his nose like he already had a headache. “Yuma,” EJ said slowly, “do you really think that’s a good idea?” Fuma added, “Kei hasn’t even shown Aya his wolf yet, and they’ve been official for months. You can’t just jump into this. Showing her that side of you, it’s permanent. You can’t take it back.”
Yuma hesitated for the first time, his excitement dimming just a fraction. “I know. I’m not rushing it, not really. I told her only if she’s completely sure. But… she wants to understand. And I get it. She’s been living in our world longer than Aya. She’s seen more of it. For her, seeing the wolf might make things clearer.” The older wolves exchanged another look. They still weren’t convinced.
EJ’s wolf didn’t like the idea, too much risk, too soon. But they could see how serious Yuma was, how much thought he’d put into it despite his usual impulsiveness. Finally, Fuma sighed, leaning back. “We’re not saying we approve. But…” He shook his head with a small, reluctant smile. “We’ll trust you. Just don’t make us regret it, Yuma.” Yuma’s grin returned, bright and unshakable. “You won’t. I promise.”
~~~
The days crawled by, each one stretching painfully slow as Saturday loomed closer. Yuma was restless, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes. Every time a phone buzzed anywhere in the house, he launched himself at it like a missile, only to let out a long, dramatic groan when it wasn’t his.
And when it was her? When her name lit up on his screen? He squealed, actually squealed, before rolling across the couch with his phone clutched to his chest like it was some sacred treasure.
Nicholas smirked every time, unable to resist. “You sound like a teenage girl waiting for her prom date.” Taki, never one to miss an opportunity, added, “No, no, more like a puppy that just heard the treat bag.” The house erupted with laughter more than once at Yuma’s expense, but he didn’t care. Not one bit. He was walking on fire, glowing with anticipation, counting down the hours until he could see her again. Let them tease. None of it mattered. Because soon, he’d be back at the pond with (Y/n). Just the two of them.
Saturday arrived with a restless buzz in the air. At (Y/n)’s apartment, Jay lounged against the counter, arms folded, his expression unusually serious as he watched her tear through her closet for the third time.
“Be careful out there,” he said finally. “The wolves’ village… it’s close to no-man’s land. That means strays, supernaturals without packs or covens. Some of them don’t care about rules. And some of them…” His crimson eyes darkened. “Not even Yuma could protect you from. Not even I could.”
(Y/n) paused, clutching a blouse in her hands. She looked at him, trying to read if this was just Jay being overprotective, or if there was real danger behind his warning. But then she sighed, folding the thought away for later. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
Jay didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. He only muttered, “Good,” before stealing a glance at the growing pile of discarded outfits on her bed. “Just don’t overthink it. He already thinks you hung the moon. You could show up in sweatpants and he’d probably faint.” (Y/n) laughed softly, shaking her head, but her hands still smoothed over the dress she finally picked. She wanted to look nice, for herself, but also for him. Not forgetting to bring the jacket he had given her a few days ago.
Meanwhile, at the pack’s village, chaos of a different sort was unfolding. Jo and Harua had been roped into helping Yuma prepare, despite both of them grumbling like it was the end of the world. Jo lugged an armful of pillows through the trees, muttering under his breath, while Harua dragged a thick blanket across the grass, trying to spread it evenly by the pond.
“Why are we doing this again?” Jo complained. “It’s his date, not ours.” “Because if we don’t,” Harua shot back, rolling his eyes, “he’ll just throw a single hoodie on the ground and call it romantic.” From behind a nearby tree, Yuma appeared, arms full of a small bag stuffed with snacks, extra water bottles, and a spare change of clothes, just in case. He looked like a nervous whirlwind, checking and rechecking everything with the energy of someone on their first date ever.
Jo groaned loudly, but the smile tugging at his mouth gave him away. Harua, too, shook his head, but there was warmth in his eyes. Because the truth was, seeing their brother so happy, so alive with anticipation, made all the effort worth it.
Just before (Y/n) was due to arrive, Yuma sat by the pond, tugging nervously at the hem of his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time. The blanket was spread, the pillows fluffed, the bag packed, it was perfect. Or at least, he hoped it was.
Then EJ’s voice suddenly cut through the pack’s telepathic link, calm but edged with warning. Everyone, stay sharp. During patrol, Nicholas and I picked up something near the border. Couldn’t get a clear read, but it wasn’t one of ours. Keep your guards up. The link buzzed with quiet acknowledgments from the others, until EJ added, Especially you, Yuma. Don’t get careless. You’ve got someone to protect today.
Yuma froze, his wolf bristling instantly. Do you think it’s serious? he asked. EJ hesitated before answering. I don’t know. Could just be a human in the woods looking for chantarelles. Or it could be worse. Either way, don’t let your guard down.
The link went quiet again, but Yuma’s heart hammered. He clenched and unclenched his fists, forcing himself to breathe. Please let it just be a human, he thought, glancing toward the forest path. The last thing he wanted was danger anywhere near (Y/n). But when the breeze shifted and her familiar scent reached him, his nerves softened. Whatever was out there, he’d deal with it. Right now, she was here, and that was all that mattered.
“Hi!” (Y/n) called out cheerfully as the pond came into view. Yuma’s head snapped up at the sound, his face breaking into a grin so bright it seemed to light up the clearing. He didn’t walk, he ran over, his excitement impossible to contain. “Hey,” he said, reaching instinctively for her bag. “Here, let me take that.”
As he lifted it from her shoulder, his eyes immediately caught on the jacket tied around the strap. His jacket. His chest warmed at the sight. The fabric still held traces of his scent, though now it was mingled with hers, wrapping around it in a way that made his wolf purr with satisfaction. He loved it, loved that she’d kept it close.
(Y/n), oblivious to the storm of emotion behind his smile, only raised a brow when she noticed him scanning the trees, his gaze flicking around like he was listening for something. “You’re looking around a lot,” she remarked softly as they walked toward the blanket.
Yuma hesitated, then sighed. He’d promised not to lie to her. “I should tell you the truth. EJ and Nicholas picked up something near our borders during patrol. They don’t know what it is. Could be nothing. But just in case… we’re keeping an eye out.”
Her steps slowed, but her face didn’t pale with fear. Instead, she nodded, almost calmly, like she’d already expected that being near their world meant risks. “Aren’t you scared?” Yuma asked, searching her face. (Y/n) shook her head gently, her eyes meeting his. “No. Not really. I feel safe with you. That’s what matters to me right now.”
Yuma’s throat tightened, his wolf howling with pride at her trust. He wanted to swear he’d protect her from anything, wanted to promise that nothing would ever harm her, but instead, he only gave her a soft smile and gestured toward the blanket. “Then let’s make today a good one,” he said.
They settled onto the blanket, the pond reflecting the late afternoon sun like liquid gold. Yuma opened the bag and spread out the snacks he’d packed, simple things, but chosen carefully, with the same detail he poured into everything he did.
They chatted easily at first, nibbling on fruit and crackers, (Y/n) laughing when Yuma complained that Jo had nearly eaten half the food before he’d even left the house. Eventually, Yuma tilted his head, his eyes curious.
“So, how’s Koyomi doing? Busy?” (Y/n)’s face lit up, pride and excitement shining through her. “Really well, actually. I think Aya’s article helped a lot, ever since it came out, we’ve been nearly full every night. People keep saying they read about us and just had to try the food. It’s been overwhelming, in the best way.” “That’s amazing,” Yuma said, grinning ear to ear. “I knew it would happen. You’re too good not to be noticed.”
Her cheeks warmed at the genuine praise, but then her brows furrowed slightly. “Wait a second… I just realized something. You know all about me and the restaurant, but I don’t even know what you do.” Yuma blinked, then laughed, rubbing the back of his neck like he’d forgotten that detail. “Oh, right. I’m a fashion designer.” Her eyes widened. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah.” He gestured toward her, his grin widening. “The jacket I gave you the other night? I made it.” (Y/n) looked down at the fabric draped over her legs, suddenly seeing it in a whole new light. Her fingers traced the clean stitching, the subtle details in the design she hadn’t noticed before.
“You made this?” she asked, stunned. Yuma nodded, his chest swelling at her expression. “I… wow. Yuma, it’s incredible.” Her voice was filled with such genuine awe that his wolf stirred proudly inside him, tail high, ears perked. Praise had always been something Yuma enjoyed, but praise from her felt like the best thing in the world.
After they’d picked through most of the snacks, Yuma suddenly bounced to his feet, his grin mischievous. “I want to show you something else,” he said. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow, wary. “That look on your face tells me I should be suspicious.” He only laughed, waving her toward the water’s edge. “Come on, trust me.”
When they reached the pond, he kicked off his shoes and gestured for her to do the same. “Let’s dip our feet in.” (Y/n) blinked at him like he’d just suggested they leap off a cliff. “Yuma… it’s autumn. That water is going to be freezing.” He shook his head, his grin never fading. “Not this pond. Just try it. Feel it with your hand if you don’t believe me.”
She sighed, crouching down skeptically, then let her fingers skim the surface. Her eyes widened immediately. “It’s… warm?” “Told you.” Yuma plopped down beside her, proud as ever. “It’s kind of magical, I guess. We don’t really understand why, but the pond stays warm all year. Even in the middle of winter.” Her disbelief slowly shifted into curiosity. “So you can swim in it whenever you want?”
“Yup.” His smile softened with nostalgia. “When we were younger, it became this tradition, we’d go swimming here on Christmas Eve before dinner. Even when the snow was thick on the ground, the water felt like summer. It was our thing, something all of us looked forward to.”
(Y/n) found herself smiling too, her heart tugged by the image of the wolves splashing in warm water while snowflakes fell around them. Something about it felt intimate, like she was being let in on a precious memory.
Quietly, she slipped off her shoes, and let her legs fall into the pond. The water wrapped around her calves like a soft blanket, warm and soothing. She glanced at Yuma, who was already sitting beside her, feet dangling in the water, looking completely at peace. “I like that tradition,” she said softly. “Me too,” Yuma replied, his voice equally gentle. “It’s one of those things that makes this place feel like home.”
They dangled their feet in the warm water, the ripples glimmering with the reflection of the fading sunlight. For a while, neither of them spoke. It wasn’t an awkward silence, it was a quiet that felt… right.
(Y/n) leaned back on her hands, letting the breeze brush her face, and for the first time in what felt like years, she realized she was at peace. Truly at peace. No weight pressing down on her shoulders, no tightness in her chest. Just the warmth of the pond, the forest alive around them, and Yuma beside her.
Maybe this was what Aya had meant when she explained the bond. Maybe it wasn’t about being forced into something, but about fate nudging her toward what she really needed. Fate had chosen Yuma for her… and her for him. And maybe, just maybe, fate knew what it was doing. If that was true, then maybe he really could be good for her.
Beside her, Yuma sat with his knees drawn up, his arms resting on them as he watched the pond. He was quiet too, though his thoughts ran anything but still. He wished he could speed everything up, show her everything he felt, make her see how deeply he loved her. He’d known it since the first moment he met her, weeks ago. His wolf hadn’t let him rest since. He loved her with every fiber of his being, loud and unshakable.
But he also knew she needed time. He couldn’t rush her, couldn’t overwhelm her. So he stayed still, holding the longing inside him, clinging to the hope that one day she’d look at him and feel even a fraction of what he felt for her. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. The way she was smiling softly at the water, his chest ached. Please fall for me, he thought. I’ll wait as long as it takes.
After a long stretch of peaceful quiet, (Y/n) pulled her feet from the water, hugging her knees to her chest. She hesitated, chewing on her lip before finally voicing the thought that had been circling her mind since their last walk. “Yuma… could I… see your wolf?”
He turned to her quickly, eyes widening, his wolf pressing against his chest at her words. “You want to?” She nodded. “I do. I know you said to be sure, and I am. I want to understand all of you.” His heart stuttered. He leaned toward her slightly, voice gentler than she’d ever heard it. “(Y/n), I have to ask again, are you sure? Because once you see him… I can’t take that back. And the last thing I ever want is for you to be afraid of me.”
Her gaze held steady, even if her stomach fluttered nervously. “I’m sure. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” For a long moment, he searched her expression, every instinct inside him trying to make absolutely certain. Finally, he nodded, exhaling slowly. “Okay. Then I’ll show you.” (Y/n)’s breath hitched, anticipation tightening in her chest.
“But…” Yuma added, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not ready for you to see the shift itself. It’s… intense. Messy. I’d rather you see me as I am after. So I’ll walk away a little, shift, and then come back to you. Is that alright?” She gave a small smile, her voice soft. “That’s fine. I’ll wait.”
Relief flickered through his eyes. He stood, brushing his hands on his jeans before giving her one last look, so tender it made her heart ache, and then he disappeared into the trees. (Y/n) stayed by the pond, her heart pounding harder with each second, knowing that when he returned, she’d be face to face with Yuma’s other half, his truest self.
A few minutes later, (Y/n) heard the faint rustle of leaves somewhere behind her. She braced herself, expecting heavy steps, branches snapping beneath a weight that large, but there was nothing. Just silence. Slowly, she turned, and her breath caught in her throat. A wolf.
A very large wolf stood a few feet away, his golden eyes catching the fading light of dusk. Her heart thudded hard against her ribs, half from awe, half from the strange, steady calm that washed over her as she looked at him. He was enormous, almost her height even on all fours, his fur a rich dark grey streaked with pale white threads, like moonlight woven into shadows.
“…Yuma?” she whispered, her voice trembling only slightly. The wolf dipped his head once, a slow, deliberate nod. Her lips parted, amazement flooding her chest. He was beautiful. Terrifying in theory, but standing here, watching her with such patient eyes, he was only Yuma. Different on the outside, yes, but still him.
She hesitated before asking, “Can I… touch you?” The wolf blinked once, then inclined his head again, lowering himself just slightly as if inviting her closer. Her hand shook as she reached forward, but when her palm finally met his head, her breath left her in a soft rush. His fur was softer than she expected, thick and warm, radiating heat like he carried a piece of summer inside him.
(Y/n) couldn’t stop the small, startled laugh that slipped out of her. The sound was bright, almost childlike. “You’re… wow. You’re incredible.” She gave him another gentle stroke, her fingers sinking deeper into his fur. “It feels like… like touching snow for the first time. Familiar, but also like magic.” The wolf’s chest rumbled, not quite a growl, not quite a purr, but something caught in between, contentment. And for the first time, (Y/n) realized she wasn’t afraid at all. She was enchanted.
For a while, it was quiet, almost dreamlike. Yuma had stretched out beside her, his massive head resting gently across her lap. (Y/n)’s fingers combed absently through his fur, twirling strands between them, marveling at how soft he was, how steady his breathing had become beneath her touch. Her own heart slowed, calm washing over her in a way she hadn’t thought possible. For the first time in years, she felt… safe. But then, Yuma’s entire body went rigid.
His ears flicked sharply, eyes glowing brighter as he stared into the trees. A low growl rumbled from his chest, deep and warning. At that same moment, EJ’s voice cut harshly into his mind through the link, strained and urgent:
“Yuma. Something’s breached the border. We don’t know what it is yet, but it’s on our land. Bring the girl back to the village, now. Before it finds you.” Panic jolted through him like fire. Yuma was on his feet in an instant, towering over (Y/n), golden eyes blazing with tension. “Yuma?” (Y/n)’s voice wavered, her hand falling from her lap where his head had been only seconds ago.
He didn’t have time to shift back, not with something possibly closing in on them. He needed her to understand now. The wolf gave a sharp shake of his head, then nudged her shoulder hard with his nose, stepping toward the path back to the village. His movements were urgent, insistent. When she blinked up at him in confusion, he huffed loudly, circling back and pushing against her again, this time with a soft growl vibrating in his chest.
(Y/n)’s eyes widened. “Something’s wrong…” she murmured, realization dawning. She looked out at the tree line, shadows shifting in the distance. Fear curled in her stomach, but when she looked back at Yuma, all she saw was his fierce determination. “You want me to follow you?” she asked breathlessly. He dipped his massive head once in a sharp nod before stepping in front of her, putting his body between her and the darkening forest. His tail lashed once, protective, and another warning growl rippled from his throat.
(Y/n) scrambled to grab her shoes and bag with shaking hands, heart pounding, but she forced herself to stand tall. If Yuma was worried, then she needed to trust him, completely. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling but sure. “Take me home.” Yuma lowered himself slightly, brushing against her leg to herd her onto the path. Then, keeping himself always between her and the shadows, he began leading her back toward the safety of the village, every sense on high alert.
The forest had gone so quiet that (Y/n) could hear the quick beat of her own heart. Yuma’s low growl rolled through the night, warning whatever lurked beyond the tree line to stay back. She kept close behind him, her hand clutching the strap of her bag like it could ground her. Then it happened.
A dark blur launched from the shadows. It slammed into Yuma with enough force to knock the massive wolf off his feet. (Y/n) gasped, stumbling backward as the sound of snapping branches and Yuma’s snarl echoed through the clearing.
“Yuma!” she cried, frozen in place as he shook himself and leapt back up, golden eyes blazing, fangs bared. The thing that had hit him slunk out of the darkness, it moved wrong, its limbs too long, too sharp, like something stitched together from nightmare and shadow. Her breath caught, icy panic wrapping around her lungs. She remembered Jay’s warning: not even Yuma can protect you from everything.
Run. Every instinct screamed at her to run. But her legs wouldn’t move. She couldn’t make herself leave him. Yuma twisted his head back for the briefest second, his eyes locking on hers, commanding, pleading. Go. His body tensed, bracing to lunge again. “No,” she whispered, her throat tight. “I’m not leaving you.”
The creature hissed, its shape flickering like smoke before it lunged again. Yuma moved faster, meeting it midair, his jaws snapping shut around its arm. He slammed it to the ground, the earth shaking beneath them. (Y/n) clapped her hands over her ears at the unearthly screech it let out, but her eyes never left Yuma. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, leave him, no matter what he wanted. Her body trembled as fear battled against a strange, unshakable pull in her chest, that bond Aya had explained. Maybe she didn’t understand it fully yet, but right now, it anchored her in place.
(Y/n) pressed a hand to her mouth as she finally caught a clear glimpse of the thing Yuma was battling. At first glance it almost looked like a werewolf, but not like Yuma. Its hulking form was twisted, its shoulders hunched, patches of fur bristling at odd angles, claws that looked more like jagged bone than anything natural. Its face was elongated, its fangs sharper, crueler, and its eyes, white as snow, void of any warmth or soul, made her stomach twist with terror.
She stumbled back a step, her mind racing. What is that? Yuma, however, knew exactly what it was. The recognition struck him like ice water in his veins. He snarled and lunged again, teeth snapping, but even as he fought he sent his voice rushing down the pack’s link, sharp and urgent.
Rougarou. It’s a Rougarou! The air in the forest seemed to drop in temperature as the name echoed through the bond. EJ’s growl rumbled back instantly: Are you sure? Yuma ducked beneath a swipe of those skeletal claws, his side stinging as one just grazed his fur. I’m sure! he snapped. Half wolf, half wendigo, it’s scent, it smells like rotting flesh, it’s strong, too strong. I don’t know if I can hold it! Through the link came Fuma’s voice, calm but weighted with steel. We’re coming. Just hold on, Yuma. Do not let it reach her.
Yuma’s golden eyes flicked toward (Y/n) for the briefest of moments, her face pale in the moonlight, her body rigid with fear but still refusing to run. His wolf growled deep in his chest, protective and desperate. I’ll hold, Yuma promised, even as the Rougarou lunged at him again, its roar shaking the trees. He had no choice, he would hold, until his brothers came, or until his last breath.
The Rougarou was merciless, every movement a blur of savage hunger. It snapped its jagged maw at Yuma’s throat, lunged with claws that could have torn a tree trunk apart. Yuma snarled and met it head-on, sinking his fangs into its shoulder and shoving it back with all the strength he had left.
(Y/n) could barely breathe, her hands trembling as she watched the nightmare unfold in front of her. Yuma’s dark fur was matted with streaks of blood, his blood, and still he stood his ground. Every time the beast tried to veer toward her, Yuma threw himself in its path, his massive frame the only shield between her and the monster.
The Rougarou slammed into him again, sending him skidding across the dirt, claws raking deep into his side. Yuma yelped but forced himself back onto his paws, golden eyes blazing with stubborn fire. He was slowing, she could see it, every muscle straining, every breath ragged, but he didn’t back down.
“Yuma…” (Y/n) whispered, tears stinging her eyes. She wanted to run to him, to help somehow, but her legs refused to move, terror rooting her in place. The Rougarou lunged once more, its jaws gaping, its hunger a tangible thing in the air. Yuma met it with a roar that shook the trees, throwing his entire weight into the attack. The two beasts collided, earth spraying beneath their claws, their snarls and growls echoing through the forest. Inside his head, Yuma screamed into the pack link, desperate now: Hurry! I can’t hold it much longer!
We’re close! Fuma’s voice thundered back. Just hang on, Yuma. Just hang on. His chest heaved, his vision flickered, but he didn’t let the Rougarou take a single step closer to (Y/n). If this was the last thing he did, he would make sure she lived.
Yuma’s body was burning, every muscle trembling under the strain of keeping the beast back. His claws raked the earth, his breath came out in harsh, ragged pants, but still he refused to let the Rougarou past him. Its pale eyes locked on (Y/n), hunger dripping from every guttural snarl, and Yuma knew, if he fell, she was done for.
Behind him, he could feel her fear like a pulse. Frozen. Trapped. He didn’t blame her. She wasn’t a fighter, she shouldn’t have to be. So he dug deeper, forcing his battered body forward, every instinct in him screaming one word: protect. But the Rougarou was too strong.
It feinted left, then struck fast, jaws snapping like steel. Yuma wasn’t quick enough this time. White-hot pain tore through his side as its fangs sank deep, ripping across his stomach. He let out a strangled yelp, the sound raw and heart-wrenching, before the world tilted and his legs buckled beneath him.
Blood gushed warm and thick into the dirt. He collapsed, chest heaving, vision blurring as the Rougarou loomed above him. His wolf tried to rise, tried to push back to his paws, but his body refused to listen. Through the haze, one thought cut through: Please… let them get here in time. Don’t let her die. The last thing he heard before darkness threatened to take him was the thunder of paws and voices crashing through the trees, his family, his pack.
(Y/n) screamed, the sound tearing from her throat as Yuma’s massive body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud. Her knees buckled, sending her crashing into the dirt beside him. She couldn’t breathe, her chest felt locked, her hands shaking violently as she stared at the blood pooling beneath his fur. He’s dying. He’s dying and I can’t do anything. We’re both going to die here.
The Rougarou turned its hollow, white eyes toward her, lips peeling back to reveal jagged, blood-slicked fangs. Her body screamed at her to move, to run, but she couldn’t. She was frozen in terror. Then, a blur of fur and muscle came barreling from the trees. The newcomer slammed into the Rougarou with bone-cracking force, sending the beast staggering backward with a guttural roar. (Y/n) flinched, wide-eyed, as another shape exploded from the shadows, and then another.
Wolves. Huge, powerful wolves. In seconds, she was surrounded, a wall of fur and snarls standing between her and the monster. Their presence was overwhelming, primal, yet oddly reassuring. Somehow, she could feel their intent, they weren’t here to hurt her. They were here to protect.
Her panicked eyes swept over them, trying to piece together who was who. The wolf that had struck first was massive, broader and heavier than the rest. Fuma, she just knew. The one with sleek black fur stood steady and unshakable, Kei. A wolf with crimson eyes, glowing fiercely in the darkness, stood tall in front of her, blocking the Rougarou’s path with a commanding growl. EJ.
Two smaller wolves shifted at the edges, sharp and fast, Harua, and either Maki or Taki, she couldn’t be sure. Another wolf was lean, wiry, with a streak of red threaded through its fur, Nicholas. And beside him, Jo, slightly smaller in build yet taller in height, but bristling with ferocity. They were all here. All except one.
The Rougarou lunged again, its claws raking against the ground as it tried to push past the wall of fur and teeth, but it was too late, the pack had arrived in full force. Fuma met its charge head-on, his sheer bulk slamming into the creature like a boulder crashing down a mountain. The Rougarou reeled back, snarling, but before it could recover, Kei was there, his jet-black form darting in lightning quick, snapping at its legs and darting away again before the beast could swipe at him.
EJ, towering above the rest, moved with terrifying authority, his crimson eyes burning like fire in the night. He released a growl so deep it vibrated through the air, rattling even (Y/n)’s bones. The Rougarou faltered at the sound, just long enough for the three wolves to fall into a rhythm.
Fuma’s strength held the monster back, Kei’s speed slashed at its weaknesses, and EJ’s dominance pressed down like a weight, suffocating the creature’s fight. Yuma had already bloodied the beast with his claws and teeth, its hide was torn, its gait unsteady, dark blood staining the earth beneath it. But the Rougarou’s feral hunger had pushed it past reason, making it stronger, wilder than any ordinary foe.
Now, with three alphas-in-their-own-right bearing down on it together, the tide shifted. The Rougarou stumbled, gasping ragged snarls, and finally collapsed beneath their combined force. It writhed weakly, but it was done, it could do no more harm to them.
Nicholas rushed away the second the rougarou was subdued, shifting back to his human form behind a tree, hurriedly putting on some clothes before running over to (Y/n). Nicholas’s voice was frantic as he crouched beside (Y/n), his hands hovering as though he wanted to pull her into a hug but didn’t want to overwhelm her further. Her cheeks were wet with tears, her hands trembling against her lap, her lips forming only one broken word. “Yuma…”
Nicholas swallowed hard, his heart clenching. “He’s alive,” he promised softly, even if fear churned in his own stomach. “We’ve got him, okay? We’re taking him home.” His reassurance barely touched her, the tears still flowing, but at least she was listening.
Behind them, Fuma, EJ, and Maki were struggling with Yuma’s massive wolf form, careful not to jar the wound too much as they maneuvered his limp body between them. It was slow, brutal work, the coppery smell of his blood staining the earth as they carried him, but none of them faltered. They wouldn’t let him fall. Nicholas straightened, his voice firm now, calling over to Jo, who lingered nearby in his wolf shape. “Jo, let her ride. She can’t walk back like this.”
Jo padded closer immediately, lowering himself to the ground. His dark eyes flickered with sympathy as he glanced at (Y/n). Nicholas reached out, steadying her as he guided her onto Jo’s back. She didn’t resist, didn’t even seem to notice much beyond the shallow rise and fall of Yuma’s chest in the distance. “Hold on to his fur,” Nicholas instructed gently, tucking her hand against Jo’s thick ruff. “We’ll be home soon.”
As Jo rose, Nicholas walked beside her, keeping close as though afraid she’d shatter into pieces if left alone. He spoke softly, trying to anchor her in the moment. “Taki will have soup ready when we get there. Something warm, something steady. You won’t be alone in this, I promise.”
All (Y/n) could do was nod faintly, her voice lost to the storm of fear inside her. Every heartbeat of the journey back felt stretched and heavy, her gaze never leaving the shape of Yuma being carried ahead. The pack moved as one through the dark forest, silent but determined, each of them carrying the same desperate hope: that Yuma would be okay, that the bond between him and his mate would not be broken tonight.
The village was alive with tension the moment they stepped out of the treeline. Lanterns flickered to life along the pathways, throwing warm light across worried faces. Taki was waiting just beyond the main steps, his usual playful grin nowhere to be seen, replaced by sheer panic as his gaze snapped to Yuma’s bloodied wolf form.
“Oh, god,” he choked, rushing forward but stopping short, his hands wringing helplessly. He wanted to help, but Fuma’s sharp look made him hold back. This wasn’t something he could joke or fumble his way through.
Aya, pale and wide-eyed, broke into a run. Aya’s reached out with a hand before covering her mouth as though holding in a scream. “Yuma,” Her voice cracked, but EJ barked her name, keeping her at a distance while the older wolves carried Yuma quickly toward one of the smaller houses.
It was only when Jo crouched down again that (Y/n) realized she was still on his back, her fingers knotted tightly in his fur. Harua was there in an instant, gently lifting her down with Aya’s help. Her legs wobbled beneath her, but she didn’t protest as they guided her inside the main house.
The warm scent of chicken soup filled the air, comforting, homely, but it barely registered. The taste of fear clung to her tongue, sharp and heavy. Her eyes darted toward the door where they’d carried Yuma, her whole body leaning as if she could follow, but Aya’s hand pressed gently to her arm.
“Come inside,” Aya whispered, her voice shaking but firm. “They’ll do everything they can for him. He’s strong. You’ll see.” (Y/n) wanted to believe her, she really did, but all she could think about was Yuma collapsing, the blood soaking into the earth, the way his golden eyes had dimmed in pain.
Inside the small cabin that doubled as their infirmary, the air was thick with panic and the heavy scent of blood. Yuma’s great wolf body was sprawled across a cot that looked too small to hold him, his chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven breaths.
EJ knelt at his side, his hands pressing down on the wound, his jaw clenched so hard it looked painful. “He’s losing too much,” the alpha growled low, frustration burning in his voice. Blood still seeped through his fingers no matter how hard he pressed. Fuma hovered at Yuma’s head, one hand steadying his brother’s shoulder when he thrashed weakly. His normally calm face was tight, panic threatening to break through. “This isn’t working. Pressure won’t be enough, he needs stitches.”
Kei’s hands shook as he tried cleaning away some of the blood with damp cloths, his eyes darting between Yuma’s pale muzzle and EJ’s grim face. “But who? Who the hell do we call? There’s no doctor who’ll see… this.” The room fell silent, save for Yuma’s shallow, pained breathing. Then Nicholas, who had been pacing near the door, stopped sharply, his hand curling into a fist. “There might be someone.” His voice was low, reluctant.
All three pairs of eyes turned to him. Nicholas swallowed, hating the words even as they left his mouth. “Jay. The vampire. If anyone knows someone who can treat supernatural wounds, it’s him.” “No.” EJ’s rejection was instant, sharp. His red eyes glowed faintly in the dim room. “We don’t ask a leech for help.” Fuma glanced between the two of them, his voice calmer but no less worried. “EJ, if we don’t, Yuma could die tonight.” Kei looked down at his younger brother, stroking a blood-matted patch of fur. His throat was tight as he whispered, “I don’t care who it is. If they can save him, we need them.”
EJ’s jaw worked, his teeth gritting, but he didn’t argue. His silence was answer enough. Nicholas nodded once, already turning for the door. He pushed it open with a force that made the wood rattle and sprinted across the clearing, his eyes locking on the main house. Aya’s voice carried faintly from inside, trying to soothe (Y/n).
Nicholas didn’t slow as he pushed through the door. The warmth of the soup hit him first, then the sight of Aya and Harua sitting with (Y/n). She was pale, her eyes swollen from crying, but alert. Nicholas’s chest tightened. “(Y/n).” His voice cracked with urgency. “I need you to call Jay. Now. Yuma’s not gonna make it unless we get help, and your vampire might know someone.”
(Y/n)’s fingers trembled as she scrolled through her phone, her breath hitching in shallow gasps. She couldn’t bring herself to speak, not when her throat was so tight it hurt, but she managed to find Jay’s name and press the call button, then handing the phone to Nicholas. The phone rang only once before Jay picked up.
“(Y/n)?” his voice came through, warm, relieved, like he’d been waiting for her call. But instead of her voice, another, deeper one answered. “No, it’s Nicholas. One of the pack.” There was a pause, sharp and loaded. “…Why are you on her phone?” Jay’s tone lost its warmth, suspicion cutting through it like ice.
Nicholas wasted no time. His voice was urgent, clipped. “We don’t have time for questions. One of ours, Yuma, is dying. He fought off a monster to protect (Y/n). He’s bleeding out. We need someone who can treat him, someone who knows what we are.” On the other end, Jay was silent for a beat. Nicholas thought maybe he’d hung up, but then Jay asked, almost roughly: “And (Y/n)? Is she safe?”
Nicholas looked over his shoulder. (Y/n) sat slumped on the couch, Aya’s arm around her, her eyes glassy but wide with fear. “She’s not hurt,” Nicholas said firmly. “Not a scratch. But she’s… she’s shaken. Badly.” He heard Jay exhale, long and heavy. A kind of relief. “Good. That’s,” He cut himself off. “Listen. I can come. I can help him. I know how to handle supernatural wounds. And if I can’t, I know someone who can.” Nicholas blinked. “You’d… do that? Even for a wolf?” “I’m not doing it for him,” Jay admitted quietly. “I’m doing it for her.”
Nicholas’s grip on the phone tightened. He didn’t like it, didn’t like trusting a vampire, didn’t like what this could mean for their fragile balance of peace. But he also didn’t like the thought of Yuma’s breathing stopping before sunrise. “Fine,” Nicholas growled. “I’ll send you the coordinates. Don’t make me regret this.” “I won’t,” Jay promised. “Tell (Y/n) I’m coming.” Nicholas lowered the phone, his gaze falling to the girl on the couch. Her eyes were locked on him, silently begging for good news. He gave a small, sharp nod. “He’s on his way.”
Jay sprinted through the night, the world around him little more than a blur of trees and shadows. His chest ached with something he hadn’t felt in decades, urgency, desperation, but his feet carried him faster than ever, driven by a promise he hadn’t even spoken aloud: I won’t let (Y/n) lose him.
He knew the wolves would never trust him easily. They had every right not to. His kind and theirs had been tearing each other apart since long before he was born. But Jay had never taken part in that war. He had no desire to. While other vampires played their power games in the dark corners of the world, Jay had stayed out of it, choosing instead to protect, to save, where he could. Maybe that made him weak in the eyes of his own kind. Maybe it made him suspicious in the eyes of the wolves. But to him, it simply made him human.
And in another life, before fangs and blood and eternity, he had been human. He had been a scholar, a student of medicine. He remembered the heavy scent of herbs and ink in the university halls, the way he had memorized anatomy diagrams by candlelight, the precise feel of needle and thread in his fingers. That knowledge had saved lives before, and it would save one now.
But it wasn’t just the past that steadied him. His vampiric gift, the strange quirk of fate that gave him a healing touch, was rare even among his kind. He had learned, painfully, that he couldn’t bring someone back from death, but he could keep a failing body from crossing that line. He could slow the bleeding, knit torn flesh, coax a pulse back into steadiness.
It was that gift he would use tonight. Jay’s crimson eyes glowed faintly in the darkness as he leapt over a fallen log, barely breaking stride. He knew the wolves wouldn’t welcome him with open arms. They might even try to tear him apart the second they saw him. But none of that mattered. He was doing this for (Y/n).
The second Jay’s foot crossed the boundary of the wolves’ land, EJ felt it like a spark of electricity through his bones. An intruder. His hackles rose instantly, his wolf ready to tear the trespasser apart, but then he felt Nicholas’s mind in the pack link, sharp and steady: I see him, I’ll lead him to the infirmary. EJ didn’t like it. Fuma didn’t like it. None of them did. But Yuma’s life was bleeding out of him, faster than any of them could stop, and for that reason alone, they stayed their claws.
Nicholas led Jay across the grounds, the vampire walking with calm steps though his crimson eyes scanned everything, the houses, the lanterns, the tension heavy in the air. He could feel the unease pressing down on him. A vampire in the heart of a wolf village was a contradiction, an impossibility. Yet here he was, and the wolves allowed it because one of their own lay dying.
When Jay entered the small house, the smell of blood hit him like a wave. His eyes flickered faintly, hunger tugging at the edge of his restraint, but he forced it down, jaw tightening. On the bed lay Yuma, pale, his breathing shallow, his side torn open so viciously Jay almost stopped in his tracks.
For a moment, he wondered how Yuma was still alive at all. That kind of wound should have killed him within minutes. And then he understood. His gaze flicked to the thread of scent lingering on Yuma’s skin, familiar to him. Her. The bond was tethering him, keeping him from letting go. The will not to leave his mate.
EJ and Fuma stood like sentinels, bodies tense, wolves inside them ready to spring. Kei hovered just behind them, his golden eyes narrowed in warning. They hated this, hated watching a vampire step toward their brother. But they did not stop him.
Jay crouched beside Yuma. His movements were steady, precise, the way they had been a hundred years ago in a candlelit room of books and bones. He pressed his hands over the wound, fingers splayed. And then it appeared, soft, almost fragile at first. A glow. Small but bright, pale light seeping from his palms into Yuma’s broken body. The bleeding slowed. The raw, torn edges of flesh began to knit together. Even the blood soaking the sheets seemed to draw back, pulled as if by invisible threads, returning to its source.
The wolves stiffened, eyes widening. They had expected trickery, poison, some dark curse, but no. Jay was healing him. For the first time in hours, hope flickered in the room.
Jay’s hands finally stilled after nearly half an hour of working over Yuma. His shoulders sagged, faint traces of exhaustion creeping into his otherwise controlled expression. He tied off the last stitch with careful precision, then smoothed gauze over the wound, his touch gentle but firm, adding a salve from a small vial he’d pulled from his pocket.
The glow of his healing had faded, but its effect lingered, the bleeding was gone, the jagged edges of the wound sealed into a neat scar line beneath the stitches. Yuma’s breathing was still shallow, but steady. Jay sat back on his heels, crimson eyes sweeping over the four wolves who had been silently watching his every move, their muscles coiled tight like springs. He let his bloodied hands rest on his knees as he finally spoke.
“He’ll live,” Jay said, his voice quiet but sure. “The worst of it is mended. But…” His gaze flicked back to Yuma, softened for just a moment. “My healing power takes a toll. Call it a forced rest, like a coma of sorts. He’ll wake, but I can’t tell you when. A week, or two… maybe more. I’ve never used this on a wolf before so the time may vary from what I’m used to.”
The silence was heavy, thick with both relief and unease. Kei let out a breath he’d been holding, his jaw clenched tight. Fuma’s fists eased slowly from where they’d been knotted at his sides. EJ, however, was the one to step forward. His eyes glowed faintly red in the dim light, still wary but softer now. “You’re saying… he’s out of danger?” Jay nodded. “Yes. He’ll heal. His body will do the rest, mostly while he’s still in the coma.”
For a long moment, EJ studied him. A wolf staring down a vampire, Alpha to outsider, history and instinct weighing between them like a blade. And then, finally, EJ inclined his head, low but deliberate. “Then I owe you an apology,” EJ said gruffly. “I, we, judged you for what you are, not who you are. You saved him, when no one else could. For that… you have my respect.” Jay blinked, surprise flickering across his face before he gave a faint smile, something almost sad in it. “You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do it for you.” “No,” EJ agreed, his mouth twitching into the barest shadow of a smile. “But you still did it, and for that, I’m thankful.”
Nicholas lingered by Yuma’s bedside, pulling a chair close enough that he could hear the steady rhythm of the younger wolf’s breathing. “I’ll stay,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “If he stirs, I’ll call.” EJ gave him a curt nod of approval before jerking his chin toward Jay. “You. With us.”
Jay rose silently, wiping his hands on a cloth. He didn’t flinch under the weight of their stares, but his steps carried an urgency that wasn’t for the wolves at all, it was for her. He knew (Y/n) was hurting. He knew her too well. Beneath all her fire and her wariness, she was someone who cared too much, who blamed herself for things never her fault. She would be sitting there, drowning in guilt, believing Yuma was bleeding out because of her.
The three wolves flanked him as they crossed into the main house. The smell of broth and herbs drifted out from the living room, a stark contrast to the thick copper scent Jay had just left behind. Inside, the rest of the pack was gathered, Aya pressed close to Harua on the couch, Taki with a half-finished bowl in his lap on one armrest, Jo and Maki seated on the floor. And there, on the edge of the couch with a bowl untouched in her hands, was (Y/n).
Her head snapped up the second the door opened. Her wide, tear-brimmed eyes darted from EJ, to Fuma, to Kei, and then froze on Jay. She blinked, stunned to see him standing there in the wolves’ den, blood still smeared faintly across his hands and shirt. No one spoke. The room was tense, silence stretched thin as wire.
Finally, EJ stepped forward. His voice was low, but steady, carrying the weight of a leader. “Yuma’s alive. He’s going to make it.” The bowls clattered softly as several boys set them down in relief. Aya let out a shaky laugh, reaching out for Kei’s hand as he stepped closer to her. Harua blew out a long breath, his body sagging with the release of fear.
(Y/n), however, stayed frozen. Her knuckles whitened around the bowl in her lap, her lips parted but no words coming out. Only her eyes betrayed her, wet and glimmering, fixed on EJ, as if begging him to say more. Fuma added gently, “He’s stable. Resting. He’ll need time, but he’ll wake up.”
That was all it took. The bowl slipped from (Y/n)’s hands, clattering onto the table, soup sloshing over the rim. She pressed both hands to her mouth as the first sob broke free, tears streaming down her cheeks. Jay’s chest tightened at the sight. Just as I thought, he mused silently. She had opened her heart to Yuma already, even if she didn’t yet realize it herself.
Jay crossed the room slowly, aware of every pair of wolf eyes tracking his every movement. But his focus wasn’t on them, it was on her. He crouched down in front of (Y/n), gently prying one of her trembling hands away from her face. His cool fingers wrapped around hers, grounding. “It’s going to be okay,” he said softly, his crimson eyes unusually warm. “He’ll recover. I promise.”
Her breath hitched, tears spilling over again, but she clung to his hand like it was a lifeline. From the couch, Taki’s voice broke the fragile quiet. “How bad was it, really?” His usual playful tone was gone, his eyes sharp with worry. Jay hesitated, glancing at (Y/n) before answering. “Bad,” he admitted, not sugarcoating it. “Bad enough that if I hadn’t gotten here, he wouldn’t have made it. But with rest, and with all of you watching over him, he’ll heal fully. Wolves are strong. Stubborn.”
Maki, sitting cross-legged on the floor, frowned. “How do you know we’ll be enough?” Jay met his gaze without flinching. “Because that’s what a pack does. You carry each other. You keep him safe, even when he can’t keep himself safe. And with that… he’ll wake up.” For the first time since they’d entered, the weight in the room seemed to lift, if only slightly. Aya gave a quiet nod, squeezing Kei’s hand, while even EJ’s rigid stance softened a fraction.
(Y/n) exhaled shakily. The ache in her chest was still there, heavy and unrelenting, but Jay’s words steadied her. She wanted to believe them. She needed to. Still, her heart ached with the thought of Yuma’s crooked grin, his bright eyes, the way he made the world seem louder, lighter. She just wanted to see him smile again.
After a few moments, Jay leaned closer, his voice for her alone. “Do you want me to take you home?” She shook her head immediately, gripping his hand tighter. “No. I’m staying. I… I can’t leave him.” Aya, sitting nearby, offered a small, encouraging smile. “Then you’ll stay. I’ll set up a guest room for you in our little cottage, and you can borrow some of my clothes. You’ll be comfortable here.”
Jay glanced at Aya, then back at (Y/n), his expression softening into something almost protective. He gave her hand one last squeeze before rising. “Then I’ll leave you in their care.” He looked around at the wolves, his voice sharpening just slightly. “If anything changes, if there are complications, call me. Immediately.”
The pack bristled at being given orders by a vampire, but none of them argued. They could all see the truth in his words: for tonight, Yuma was alive because of Jay. With that, Jay turned toward the door, his silhouette framed in the dim light. He gave (Y/n) one last look over his shoulder, silent reassurance, before stepping out into the night.
~~~
The night dragged on like a weight pressing down on her chest. (Y/n) lay tangled in the borrowed sheets, the mattress beneath her soft and inviting, but comfort was the last thing she could find. Every time her eyes drifted shut, they snapped open again, visions flashing in her mind, the Rougarou’s white eyes, the gleam of its claws, and Yuma’s body crumpling to the ground, blood blooming dark against the forest floor. She sat up, pressing a trembling hand to her face. Sleep was impossible. Her heart beat too fast, her thoughts too loud.
Turning toward the window, she caught sight of the infirmary across the yard. A single light burned inside, steady against the night. They were keeping watch. She knew the pack was taking turns, guarding their brother through the long hours. It would be one of the younger wolves by now, surely, Jo, or Harua, maybe even Maki.
They had told her to wait until morning, to give them time to clean Yuma up, to make him look less broken, less frightening. She understood. They wanted to protect her. But that wasn’t what she needed. She didn’t care if he looked pale, if he looked weak. She just needed to see him breathing. She needed proof that Jay’s words hadn’t been empty, that Yuma was really alive.
Her hand brushed over the jacket draped across the chair in the corner, the same jacket Yuma had lent her, the one that still carried his scent. Hugging it close for courage, she slipped quietly from the bed. Her bare feet were soundless on the wooden floorboards as she made her way to the door. If she was lucky, she thought, she could persuade whichever young wolf was on duty to let her in. Just for a few minutes. Just long enough to see him.
The night air was crisp as (Y/n) slipped quietly across the clearing, the lights from the infirmary pulling her closer like a beacon. She rounded the corner, only to nearly bump into Jo as he stepped outside. He blinked at her, his usually calm expression barely shifting. Instead of asking why she was there, his gaze flicked up toward the sky. The moon hung low, veiled in heavy clouds, its glow only faintly cutting through. His voice was low, steady, more a statement than a question.
“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” (Y/n) gave a small, tired laugh. “Yeah. Sleep wasn’t really finding me tonight.” From what little she’d seen of Jo, he was quieter than the others, observant, reserved, always there in the background while his packmates filled the space with noise and energy. But now, sensing the storm inside her, he seemed… softer. Willing to talk. Maybe because he knew she needed something to pull her out of her spiraling thoughts.
“When I can’t sleep,” Jo said after a pause, “I either walk the grounds until my legs are tired… or I sit on the veranda and draw.” That caught her off guard. Her brows shot up. “You… draw?” Jo’s lips tugged into the faintest smile at her surprise. He gave a little shrug, almost shy, and after a moment’s hesitation, he held up a worn leather-bound sketchbook. “Yeah. Want to see?” She nodded, curiosity easing some of the tension in her shoulders.
Wordlessly, Jo led her toward the veranda of the main house. The wooden boards creaked softly under their steps. He gestured for her to sit, then ducked inside for a moment before returning with a folded blanket, handing it to her without a word. She accepted it gratefully, wrapping it around her shoulders as she sank down beside him.
Jo opened the sketchbook carefully, flipping past a few pages before showing her one of the drawings. His lines were clean, precise yet full of feeling, wolves in motion, the pack lounging in the living room, trees around the pond she had just visited with Yuma. Even Aya was there, captured in delicate pencil strokes that somehow mirrored her warmth. (Y/n)’s lips parted in awe. “Jo… these are incredible.”
A faint blush crept into his cheeks, but he only shrugged again, as if embarrassed by the praise. “It helps me make sense of things. When the world feels too loud.” For the first time since the Rougarou, (Y/n) felt her chest loosen just a little, her mind easing away from the horrors replaying inside it. Jo’s quiet presence and his art gave her something new to focus on.
The quiet stretched comfortably between them as (Y/n) turned page after page, her fingers brushing lightly against the sketches. She could see Jo in them, his unspoken emotions hidden in the way he shaded the lines. Some drawings were full of life, bursting with movement and warmth; others felt heavier, shadows lingering in the strokes, emotions weighed down by silence. It was like reading a diary, only told in pencil instead of words.
And then her hand stilled on one particular page. The firelight practically glowed from it, the scene so vivid she almost expected to feel its warmth. The pack gathered around a bonfire, laughter etched into every line, Aya nestled at Kei’s side, and there, front and center, was Yuma. His grin so bright it made her chest ache.
Jo glanced over, catching the way her eyes lingered. His voice, soft but steady, broke the silence. “That night… was one of the first times we saw Kei really let go. He and Aya had just started to figure things out. Yuma wouldn’t stop teasing him for being soft. So… we made a fire. Ate too much food. Told too many bad jokes.” The corners of (Y/n)’s lips tugged upward, the faintest smile forming through the exhaustion. “Sounds… nice.” Jo nodded once. “It was.”
For the first time all night, her mind stopped running in circles. The images of the Rougarou’s white eyes and Yuma’s blood-soaked body softened at the edges, replaced by the warmth of pencil lines on paper, by the memory of a pack laughing under the stars. It was enough to let her body remember how tired she truly was. Her eyelids grew heavier with each blink until even holding the sketchbook felt too much.
Noticing, Jo gently took it from her hands. “Come on,” he said quietly. He stood and helped her to her feet, steadying her as she swayed. He led her inside the main house, guiding her to the couch in the living room. She curled onto it without protest, pulling the blanket he’d given her tighter around herself. The weight of it, paired with the faint lingering scent of the pack’s home, was enough to pull her under. Within minutes, her breathing had evened out, her face softening in sleep.
Jo lingered for a moment, watching her with a thoughtful expression. Then he padded into the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and set it on the table within her reach. With one last glance at the couch, he slipped quietly down the hall toward his own room, leaving the living room in peace.
~~~
(Y/n) rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she padded softly into the kitchen, her hair a little messy, the blanket still draped over her shoulders. The scent of sizzling bacon and eggs filled the air, warm and comforting, carrying her fully awake far better than any alarm could. The faint murmur of voices and the sharp hiss of oil on a hot pan made the room feel alive, even in the early hours.
Her gaze fell on Maki, darting around the kitchen with a wooden spoon in one hand and a frying pan in the other. He looked a little frantic, but there was purpose in his movements, a rhythm he was starting to build for himself. He wasn’t polished, not yet, but (Y/n) couldn’t help the small swell of pride in her chest. She had seen this spark before, the way he leaned into the work, curious and determined to make it better each time. He had potential. A lot of it.
Maki turned and nearly jumped when he caught sight of her standing in the doorway. But the surprise melted quickly into a bright grin. “Morning!” he greeted, his voice a little louder than necessary in the otherwise quiet house. (Y/n) gave him a small, tired smile, returning the greeting softly. Without missing a beat, Maki sent a quick thought through the pack’s link: She’s awake. Breakfast is ready.
She couldn’t hear it, of course, but she noticed the flicker in his expression, the way his eyes briefly went distant as if tuned into a frequency she didn’t have access to. She figured the others would be here soon. The smell of food, the clatter of dishes, the warmth of the kitchen, it almost felt like home.
Breakfast had passed in a blur of chatter and the clinking of cutlery before the pack began scattering in their usual rhythm. Some left for school, others for work, voices echoing through the halls before fading into silence. Aya lingered, though, claiming she’d called in sick, her gaze steady on (Y/n), as though daring her to protest. She didn’t. Aya’s presence was a comfort, one that made it easier to breathe. EJ, too, stayed behind, his quiet authority grounding the house even when the rest of the pack dispersed.
Over at Koyomi, Jay had already sent word to Lila that (Y/n) wouldn’t be coming in, covering for her with the simple excuse of illness. She wasn’t ready to explain to anyone outside this circle what had happened, and Jay understood that without needing to be told.
EJ guided her across the village to the infirmary, his stride calm but protective. He stopped at the door, placing a heavy but gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure you want to see him?” he asked, his voice careful, not doubting, only making certain. (Y/n) swallowed hard, her throat tight. “I have to,” she whispered. The alpha studied her for a heartbeat, then gave a small nod and opened the door, holding it for her.
The sight inside stole her breath. Yuma lay on the bed, pale but alive. He looked far better than he had last night, no longer soaked in blood, no longer clinging to life with every ragged breath, but still fragile, a shadow of his usual vibrant self. The gauze wrapped snug around his middle, a faint scent of antiseptic clinging to the air.
(Y/n)’s chest hitched, her eyes burning. He was unconscious, yes, and might be for a while, but his chest rose and fell, steady and sure. The soft sound of breath through his nose filled the room, and for the first time since the fight, relief loosened its claws in her chest. At some point in the night, he had shifted back into his human form. Jay’s stitches had held, thank god, neat and strong against the angry wound beneath the gauze.
Quietly, she crossed the room, her steps light as if afraid of disturbing him. She sank into the chair at his bedside, reaching forward with trembling fingers. Carefully, she brushed his bangs back from his face, revealing his closed eyes, the familiar line of his brow. Her hand slipped down, finding his, it was warm against her palm. She held it tightly, grounding herself in the warmth of his skin. A reminder. He was still here. He had fought for her. He had survived.
From the doorway, EJ lingered silently, his broad frame filling the threshold. He didn’t intrude, didn’t break the moment, but his expression softened as he watched. There was no denying the bond. No denying the way fate had woven these two lives together. Yes, he thought quietly, his heart warm. Fate knew exactly what it was doing.
EJ had left her alone in the quiet room, his footsteps fading into the stillness as he went to tend to his duties. Aya stayed back in the main house, the sound of pots and pans faintly drifting through the walls as she busied herself with lunch. It wasn’t anything elaborate, certainly not like the food (Y/n) could have prepared, but Aya poured her heart into it, wanting to create something warm and grounding for them all.
Inside the infirmary, (Y/n) hadn’t moved an inch from Yuma’s side. His hand was still in hers, her thumb tracing small, absent circles across his knuckles. She didn’t dare let go, as though the connection tethered him here, to her, to life.
Her voice was quiet, carrying only for him as she spoke into the stillness. She told him how brave he had been, how he’d stood between her and that monster without hesitation. She whispered apologies, voice breaking, saying she wished she had been able to help him, to fight alongside him instead of freezing. She told him how the pack had come, how they’d fought for him, fought for her, and how they were all watching over him now.
He probably knew it all, he’d felt the fight, heard their voices through the bond, but (Y/n) needed to speak, to chase away the silence threatening to crush her. And then, softer than anything she’d said before, she leaned forward, her lips barely moving as the words slipped out in a whisper: “I miss you… and I want to learn more about you.”
Her throat tightened as she held her breath, waiting. For a second, she swore she felt it, his fingers tightening faintly around hers, the smallest squeeze, fleeting but real. Her heart jumped, tears blurring her vision. But just as quickly, his hand relaxed again, limp in hers as if it had never happened at all.
The door creaked open then, and EJ’s steady voice filled the room. “You should go inside and rest. You can come back later.” (Y/n) shook her head at first, clutching Yuma’s hand tighter, unwilling to leave him alone. But EJ’s gaze was calm, understanding. “He wouldn’t want you to sit here and cry all day. Rest a little. We’ll take care of him.”
Her chest ached with the truth of it. With one last, lingering look at Yuma, she slowly let go of his hand. She bent down, brushing her fingers gently through his hair once more before she stood. “You better wake up soon,” she whispered, her voice trembling. And though it nearly broke her heart to step away, she followed EJ back toward the main house, knowing deep down that he was right.
Aya was just setting down bowls on the table when EJ and (Y/n) came in from the infirmary. The smell of her cooking, simple, hearty, and comforting, filled the air, and while it wasn’t nearly as refined as anything (Y/n) would have made, it was warm. Made with care.
“You’re back early,” Aya said softly, glancing between them. She didn’t ask directly about Yuma, she didn’t need to. The shadow in (Y/n)’s eyes said enough. Instead, she shifted the subject, turning to EJ. “How are you doing? Did you get hurt, yesterday?”
EJ shook his head, rolling one shoulder with a faint wince. “Mostly just sore muscles. I was lucky. Kei and Fuma did most of the fighting. Well… besides Yuma.” His voice dropped on the last words, and (Y/n)’s chest squeezed again.
She sat down, fiddling with the hem of the borrowed sweater Aya had lent her. “Can I ask something?” she said after a beat. “How… how did this pack even come together? You all… you’re so close, but it doesn’t seem like you were all born into the same one.” EJ leaned back in his chair, his expression softening as his gaze shifted somewhere distant. “We weren’t. Every one of us lost our first packs, some to war, some to accidents, some…” he trailed off, then cleared his throat. “But we found each other.” Aya listened quietly, her spoon paused in mid-air.
“Me, Nicholas, and Taki, we came from the same pack originally. After we lost it, we stuck together, Nicho and I did out best to take care of Taki even though we were young. Then, a few years later, we found Fuma, Yuma, and Harua. They weren’t from the same packs, but the three of them had already banded together. Fuma was their alpha.” EJ gave a small, almost amused huff. “Then we came across Jo. He was alone. Quiet. Still is, I suppose but he has a lot of heart, he just doens’t always know how to express it. After him came Maki, also alone, the youngest of us all, he’s never quite known how long he was alone for, but we think he was only alone for a few months before we found him. And finally Kei. He was an alpha too, technically, he had no pack, and he had been alone for the longest of us, and for some reason…” EJ gave a shrug, almost awkward. “Both Fuma and Kei decided I should lead, I protested quite a lot, Fuma would have been a better alpha in my eyes, he had more experience and in my eyes, better leadership, but he insisted that it should be me.”
(Y/n)’s brow furrowed. “Even though you’re younger than them?” EJ smirked faintly. “Yeah. I wasn’t convinced either, still isn’t. But they trusted me, and the pack needed a leader. So here we are.” Aya reached over, touching his arm gently with a small smile. “You’ve done well,” she said quietly. EJ looked away, but the corners of his mouth softened.
(Y/n) watched them, her chest heavy. These boys, all of them had gone through so much, yet they had built something warm and whole together out of all that loss. No wonder Yuma had fought so hard to protect her. He had a family now, and he would do anything to protect it.
EJ started thinking about Yuma, his jaw tightened as he set down his spoon, the weight of his words heavy before they even left his mouth. “I should’ve gotten there sooner yesterday,” he said quietly. “If we’d come quicker… this never would’ve happened.” Aya frowned immediately, shaking her head. “Don’t do that to yourself, EJ. You can’t blame yourself for something none of you could have predicted.”
(Y/n) nodded, her voice soft but steady. “She’s right. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me and Yuma for being out by the pond in the first place. You warned him something might be close to your borders, but none of us knew what it was. If we’d stayed near the village… maybe the rougarou would’ve attacked here instead. And then…” She swallowed, glancing around the cozy kitchen. “Then maybe more of you would’ve gotten hurt. Or this whole place could’ve been destroyed.” The silence stretched for a moment. Finally, EJ exhaled through his nose and gave a small nod, conceding.
“Thank you,” (Y/n) said after a pause, her voice trembling slightly. “For taking care of me. For… for making sure I didn’t fall apart.” A rare smile flickered across EJ’s face, faint but genuine. “That’s what a pack does,” he said simply. “We take care of each other.” (Y/n) blinked at him, startled. “But… I’m not part of your pack.”
For the first time since the fight, EJ laughed. It was a low, warm sound, almost surprising coming from him. “As Yuma’s mate, accepted or not, you’re part of us now. That means you’re under our protection. It means we’ll care for you, just like we would any of our own.”
(Y/n) felt her throat tighten, but not from fear this time. Instead, something else bloomed inside her, something fragile, warm, and unfamiliar. A sense of belonging. She gave EJ a small, genuine smile, one that reached her tired eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered again, softer this time. And for the first time in her life, (Y/n) felt like she might finally have a home. A family. Something she’d never really had before.
(Y/n) and Aya went to the kitchen to wash the dishes while EJ went back out to patrol and check on Yuma. The water was warm on their hands, the steady clink of plates against each other filling the silence. Aya passed (Y/n) another dish to dry, giving her an encouraging glance before finally asking, gently, “So… how are you feeling? About all of this, the pack, Yuma, the whole mate thing?”
(Y/n) let out a heavy sigh, setting the towel down for a moment. She leaned her hip against the counter, eyes fixed on the soapy water. “Conflicted,” she admitted. “Mostly because I’m afraid. Afraid of being loved.” Aya tilted her head, not saying anything, letting her continue.
“My parents…” (Y/n) started, her voice tight. “They weren’t… good people, as I kind of told you during the interview. They fought constantly. Screamed at each other, at me. And when they weren’t fighting, it was like I didn’t exist at all. I grew up learning that love was just… noise. Pain. That it didn’t mean safety, that love was conditional, the only time they ‘loved’ me was when I did something for them.”
She swallowed hard, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. “And the guys I’ve dated? They weren’t any better. Toxic, manipulative. I kept falling into the same patterns, and every time I thought maybe, just maybe, this person cared about me, it turned out they just wanted to use me.” Aya quietly reached over, resting her hand on (Y/n)’s arm.
(Y/n) gave a small, bitter laugh, though her eyes were shiny. “So I guess I’ve always believed love wasn’t for me. That I wasn’t meant to have something like that. And now Yuma… he feels different. I want to believe he’s different. That he really means what he says, that the way he looks at me is real. But… I’m terrified. What if I let myself believe it, and I end up wrong again?” Aya squeezed her arm gently, grounding her. “You’re not wrong this time.” Tears pricked (Y/n)’s eyes, but she stayed quiet, waiting to hear more.
Aya dried her hands slowly with the towel, her gaze soft but steady on (Y/n). “Being scared is normal,” she said gently. “Everyone’s scared of love, in their own way. I was, Kei was. Even Yuma is.” (Y/n)’s brows knitted together, almost disbelieving. “Yuma? Scared?”
Aya nodded without hesitation. “Yes. He talked to me about it once, before… before he even knew you were his mate. He was terrified of never finding her, of being alone forever. And then, when he caught your scent…” Aya gave her a small smile. “He was just as terrified, but in a different way. Terrified he wouldn’t be enough for you. Or that he’d be too much, too much energy, too much emotion, too overwhelming.”
(Y/n) blinked, her throat tight. She could hardly imagine Yuma, loud, bright, bold Yuma, being afraid like that. But Aya’s tone was too earnest for it to be a lie. “He was afraid of scaring you,” Aya added softly. “Of hurting you somehow, even without meaning to.” (Y/n) looked down at her hands, silent, her chest heavy with conflicting emotions. Aya leaned closer, lowering her voice as though sharing a secret.
“If you tell him about your past, about your fears… he’ll understand. He’ll do everything in his power to help you through it. He would wait ten years if that’s what you needed.” (Y/n) swallowed hard, her heart aching at the thought. Ten years. She couldn’t even imagine someone having that kind of patience with her. No one ever had. Aya smiled knowingly, a little spark of warmth in her eyes. “That’s the kind of love he has for you already. You don’t have to rush. You just have to let yourself believe it.”
“I just have to hope that he’ll be fine now,” (Y/n) said at last, her voice quieter than before. Her eyes flickered to the window, where the infirmary stood in the distance, and her chest tightened with guilt. “But I don’t know what to do, Aya. I should go home, right? Go back to the restaurant. It’s only been one day, but it feels so wrong to dump everything on Lila and Jay. They don’t deserve that.” She pressed her lips together, twisting the dish towel in her hands. “But at the same time, I don’t want to leave Yuma. I want to be here when he wakes up.”
Aya leaned against the counter, her expression soft. “At the end of the day,” she said gently, “it’s up to you. There isn’t a right or wrong choice here.” (Y/n) looked at her, searching, hoping for Aya to decide for her, but the woman just gave her that patient, knowing smile.
“The pack will be here for you,” Aya continued. “Whatever you need. If you want to stay here in the village, we’ll make it work. If you want to go home, we’ll understand. If you want to keep working at Koyomi but still sleep here, Kei or one of the others can drive you to and from work every day. Whatever makes it easier for you.”
The relief that spread through (Y/n)’s chest was almost dizzying. She hadn’t realized how heavy the burden of choice had been, but knowing she wasn’t expected to carry it all on her own… it made her shoulders drop, just a little. “They’d really do that?” she asked, almost disbelieving.
Aya smiled. “They’d do anything to help you. That’s what being part of a pack means, even if you don’t realize you are one us yet.” (Y/n) let out a shaky little laugh, some of the tension easing. She still didn’t know what her decision would be, but at least now, she didn’t feel so trapped between impossible options.
(Y/n) spent another two hours at Yuma’s side after lunch, her fingers brushing against his hand every now and then, as if the touch alone might coax him back to her. She made a quick call to Jay about a business matter, then drifted back to the infirmary, unable to stay away for long. Time passed slowly, but she didn’t mind.
At one point, she had asked EJ if he could let her know when Maki returned from school, she wanted to talk with him. True to his word, when Maki came home, EJ sought her out quietly in the infirmary. “He’s back,” EJ told her. “If you still want to talk with him.” (Y/n) looked up from Yuma, nodded, and whispered a soft “thank you” before rising to her feet. She gave Yuma’s hand one last squeeze before slipping out and heading into the main house.
She didn’t have to wait long. Maki came out from his room, a smile tugging at his lips when he spotted her waiting. “Hey,” he said lightly, brushing a hand through his hair. “EJ said you wanted to talk to me? What’s up?” (Y/n) hesitated for a second before her own lips curved into a small smile. “Yeah. I was wondering…” she trailed off, then straightened, her voice more certain. “Do you want to make dinner for the pack with me tonight? I can teach you one of my recipes.” Maki’s eyes lit up immediately, his grin spreading wide. “Really? You mean it?” When she nodded, his excitement only grew. “Then yes! Absolutely, yes. I’d love that.”
Maki led (Y/n) toward the pantry, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, clearly thrilled about their little project together. When he swung open the door, (Y/n) stopped in her tracks. Her eyes widened as she took in the shelves lined wall to wall, stacked with jars, bags of flour and rice, canned goods, baskets of vegetables, and bundles of herbs hanging upside down to dry. It wasn’t exactly as polished or perfectly stocked as Koyomi’s, but it came surprisingly close. She turned to Maki with a laugh. “This almost rivals my pantry back at the restaurant. I didn’t expect that.”
“Yeah,” Maki said, a little sheepish, rubbing at the back of his neck. “We kinda eat a lot, so… big pantry.” (Y/n) grinned, shaking her head fondly before starting to list off what she needed. One by one, Maki moved through the pantry, grabbing items quickly and carefully as she called them out. He seemed proud to know where everything was, placing onions, carrots, and spices onto the counter without hesitation.
As she reached for a jar of broth, she asked casually, “Do you like cooking?” Maki’s face brightened instantly, his hands pausing mid-motion with the carrots. “Yeah, I really do.” His tone was warm, full of a simple kind of joy. Then it softened, turning bittersweet. “Before I lost my pack… my parents… I used to help my mom in the kitchen all the time. She taught me a lot, though I was still little. It’s been a while, so I don’t remember everything, but I do my best. Out of everyone here, I guess I’m the best cook in the pack.”
He gave a small chuckle, though his shoulders hunched slightly as if embarrassed by the admission. (Y/n) felt her chest tighten. She saw so much of herself in him, how cooking could be a lifeline, a way to hold onto something good when the rest of the world had been taken away. To her, it was her grandfather. To Maki, his mother. For both of them, it was a tether to a memory that was worth cherishing. She smiled softly at him, a little gentler this time. “Then let’s make something together worth remembering.”
They carried the ingredients back into the kitchen, setting everything out on the counters. (Y/n) rolled up her sleeves, showing Maki how to dice the onions properly before moving on to the carrots. Just like last time, he was a quick study, watching carefully, asking small but thoughtful questions, then mimicking her movements almost perfectly.
(Y/n) found herself smiling more than once as she observed him. He had a feel for food, a natural instinct that reminded her of her own beginnings in the kitchen. Sometimes she forgot he was the youngest in the pack, yes, he could be silly, playful like a little brother, but in moments like this he carried himself with a maturity that surprised her. He listened with patience, moved with purpose, and seemed to absorb everything she said like a sponge.
Her thoughts drifted back to her call with Jay earlier that day. They had gone over some business at the restaurant, but by the end of the conversation she found herself mentioning Maki, how talented he was, how much potential he carried. She’d suggested the idea of offering him a job at Koyomi. It would give him the chance to grow, to really learn in a professional kitchen, and it would give her a way to weave herself a little deeper into the pack, too. A gesture for Yuma as much as for herself.
Of course, it would depend on Maki’s own wishes, and whether EJ as the leader thought it was a good idea. But as she watched Maki concentrate on mincing garlic, his brow furrowed in focus, she felt more and more certain. He deserved a chance like this.
The kitchen smelled rich and savory by the time the last touches were finished, golden roasted chicken in a light sauce, herbs still steaming as (Y/n) and Maki carried the main dish out together. Jo and Taki were quick to jump in, balancing side dishes and bowls as if afraid a second of delay would keep them from eating, while Harua darted ahead to set the plates and cutlery with his usual cheerful energy.
As soon as the food hit the table, the pack fell into motion, their chatter and laughter blending with the sound of scraping chairs and clattering forks. They dug in like they hadn’t eaten in days, though (Y/n) knew it was just how they always were, wolves with hearty appetites, and loud ways of showing their appreciation. Watching them enjoy the food she and Maki had worked on filled her with an unfamiliar warmth.
By the time most of the plates were nearly clean, she set her fork down and cleared her throat. “Actually, I… had a question.” The effect was instant, the room quieted, heads turned toward her, curious eyes fixed on her. She hesitated for a second, then pressed on. “It’s about Maki. Earlier today I spoke with Jay about something, and I was thinking…” she paused, glancing at Maki, who blinked in surprise, “…we’d like to offer Maki a job at Koyomi. He has a natural talent for cooking, and I think with some training, he could really grow.”
Maki froze, wide-eyed, as if his brain needed a few seconds to catch up. “W-Wait, me? A job? At your restaurant?” His voice rose with excitement he tried and failed to contain. He quickly looked over at EJ, caught between hope and uncertainty. EJ leaned back in his chair, gaze flicking between the youngest wolf, then (Y/n), and finally across the table to Fuma. The older wolf gave the faintest, sharp nod of approval. Fuma had been the one to teach Maki control over his instincts, so if he says Maki is ready, then EJ is fine with it.
EJ looked back at Maki. He let the silence hang for a beat before giving a small smile. “If that’s what you want, then yes.” Maki shot up from his chair with a joyful shout, nearly knocking it over. He bounced around the table, fists pumping in the air, practically vibrating with excitement. “Yes! Yes! I get to cook with (Y/n) every day!” He looked like he might start dancing any second. The rest of the pack laughed, teasing and clapping him on the back, but beneath all the noise, (Y/n) caught the proud smile tugging at EJ’s lips.
~~~
The days blurred together in a strange rhythm, work, meals, quiet evenings, and the constant undercurrent of waiting. Five days since the attack, and though life kept moving, there was a hollow place in the pack’s home that nothing seemed able to fill.
(Y/n) found herself growing used to the routine of the village: the morning chatter, the way everyone teased each other over breakfast, the shuffle of feet as they left for work or school. Evenings were warmer, everyone piled together for dinner before splitting into their tasks, EJ checking patrols, Jo with his sketchbook, Nicholas organizing something. She belonged here, in some way she couldn’t quite describe, but even in the middle of all the noise, her gaze always drifted to the infirmary. To the closed door. To the steady but too-silent figure lying inside.
Maki had taken to his new job at Koyomi with all the energy of a pup with a new toy. Every evening when they were driven home, he’d chatter on about what Jay or Lila had taught him, what mistakes he’d made, or the compliments he’d received from customers. His enthusiasm made everyone laugh, but (Y/n) often noticed how quickly the pack’s smiles dimmed afterward, as if remembering the one person who wasn’t there to tease him about it.
Nights were the hardest. The guest room Aya had set up for (Y/n) was cozy, but she always felt pulled back to the infirmary. Sometimes she’d linger outside the door, listening for any change in his breathing, as if she’d be able to hear the exact second he woke. Other times, she sat beside him, holding his hand and talking quietly, even if she wasn’t sure he could hear her.
Jay’s words circled her mind too often for comfort. A week, maybe two. Maybe longer. She tried to hold onto hope, but every morning she woke to find Yuma still unmoving, her chest ached more. The pack kept telling her the same thing: he’d fight his way back. He always did. But every passing day stretched that promise thinner, and though she didn’t dare say it out loud, (Y/n) was terrified.
Saturday came quietly, the air crisp with autumn’s bite. A week since the attack, though it still felt raw in (Y/n)’s chest. For once, she hadn’t gone into Koyomi. She trusted Jay and Lila to manage just fine, especially with Maki around, if anything, she was certain now that he could run half the kitchen on his own. The boy was a sponge, soaking up every bit of knowledge, his hands already moving with the ease of someone who’d been doing this for years.
So instead of rushing through the familiar motions of the restaurant, (Y/n) found herself on the pack’s porch, bundled in a cardigan against the rising winds. The trees surrounding the village rustled and sighed with every gust, the forest painted in shades of red and gold that reminded her winter wasn’t far away. In her hands was a steaming cup of tea, fragrant and calming, and on the small wooden table between her and Aya were a few pastries she’d brought back from Koyomi the day before.
The house behind them was still, quieter than it had been in days. With the pack out training in the fields and woods beyond, there were only two humans left in the village. Well, two humans, and Yuma. His presence lingered across the yard in the infirmary, where he still lay in silence. It was a peaceful day, all things considered.
(Y/n) broke that peace with a soft laugh, setting her teacup down on the saucer. “You know, I’ve never felt so much at home anywhere as I do here,” she admitted. “It hasn’t been long, and yet… I can’t picture myself not being here anymore. Like if I left, something in me would just… go missing.”
Aya tilted her head, her hair shifting gently in the wind. A small smile curved her lips as she lifted her own cup for a sip. “I understand,” she said warmly, her voice carrying that mix of fondness and certainty that always seemed to surround her when she spoke about the pack. “I felt the exact same way. When Kei brought me here, it was like everything clicked into place. Even before that, when I met Harua at work… it felt like I’d known him forever. Like he was family already.”
Her gaze softened as she looked past the trees, where faint howls and the crack of distant movement hinted at where the wolves trained. “Being with the pack, you just… feel safe,” she continued. “Even when life is messy and loud and sometimes dangerous, you know you’re never really alone.” (Y/n) let Aya’s words sink in, her fingers curling tighter around her warm teacup as she glanced toward the infirmary’s distant window, where Yuma still slept. Aya was right, she’d never been safer. Never been more terrified, either, but maybe those things could coexist. Maybe that was what home was supposed to feel like.
Almost another week slipped by, each day folding into the next with a strange, aching rhythm. Every afternoon after school, Maki and (Y/n) headed into town together, working side by side at Koyomi. He was a quick study, absorbing tips from her, from Jay, from Lila, and soon enough, he was confidently running parts of the kitchen on his own. Customers had already started praising “the young chef,” which always made him beam with pride.
When she wasn’t at Koyomi, (Y/n) was with Yuma. She sat at his side while waiting for Maki to finish his school day, her chair pulled close to his bed. Other times she tested new recipes and brought them over for EJ and anyone else who was around at the village that day, to taste. But more often than not, she sat with Yuma and just talked. About her day, about the restaurant, about things she’d never said out loud to anyone else.
And sometimes, when her hand curled around his, she swore she felt the smallest squeeze in return. Or the faintest flicker of his eyelids. Or his breathing shifting just slightly when she whispered his name. She clung to those moments like lifelines, hoping desperately that it meant he could hear her.
Jay stopped by more than once, checking Yuma’s stitches, inspecting his healing. Each time, (Y/n) asked the same question: When will he wake up? And each time, Jay could only shake his head, his expression both gentle and apologetic. “He’ll wake when his body is ready,” was all he could promise.
Now it was Friday evening. The firelight flickered low in the main house, the autumn wind rattling faintly against the windows. Tomorrow would mark two weeks since the attack. Two weeks of silence from Yuma.
The pack was restless. EJ prowled the yard longer than usual, checking the borders twice over. Kei’s sharp edge showed even when he tried to hide it, his protective instincts rising higher each day. Fuma’s patience frayed at the edges, though he never let it boil over. Even the younger wolves, Taki and Harua especially, paced more than they used to, their energy wound too tight. They had all expected him to wake up by now. And though no one said it outright, the question lingered heavy in the air, in every glance exchanged between them: What if he doesn’t?
The night was heavy with silence, the kind that presses down on your chest and refuses to let you rest. (Y/n) tossed and turned in her borrowed bed, clutching Yuma’s jacket against her, breathing in the fading scent of him, but it didn’t help. It never helped. Sleep was a stranger these days. Finally, she gave up. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well sit with him. At least then, she’d feel like she was doing something.
The air outside bit at her skin as she crossed the yard toward the infirmary. The faint lamplight spilled through the cracks of the door, and when she pushed it open quietly, she found Taki slumped in the chair beside Yuma’s bed. His shoulders were curled forward, his face half-buried in his hands. He didn’t notice her at first. That’s when she saw it, the silent streak of tears running down his cheeks.
Her heart twisted. Taki was the loud one, the joker, always ready to banter and fill the air with chatter. Seeing him like this… it felt wrong. “Taki?” her voice was soft, tentative. His head shot up, surprise flashing across his face, but not fast enough to hide the tears. He swiped at his eyes quickly, trying to cover it, but she had already seen. She stepped closer, lowering her voice further. “Are you okay?”
He gave a wet, shaky laugh, the kind people give when they want to say yes but the truth won’t let them. “Yeah, well… no. Not really.” (Y/n) crouched slightly to meet his eyes, her hand brushing the armrest of his chair. “Do you want to tell me why?” For a moment he looked like he wanted to say it’s nothing, brush it off like always. But then he glanced over at Yuma’s still body, at the steady rise and fall of his chest, and his jaw tightened. He couldn’t keep the truth inside. “I should’ve been there,” he whispered hoarsely. “I should’ve fought. The pack needed me, and I stayed behind.” Her brows furrowed. “How come you stayed behind?”
Taki’s hands clenched into fists on his knees. “Because I can’t shift right. I never could.” His voice cracked, shame heavy in every word. “Since I was a kid, it’s always been… broken. My wolf gets stuck. Half-shifted, halfway human, halfway monster. It’s painful, it’s useless, and no matter how much I train, I can’t control it, most of the time I can’t even half shift.” He swallowed hard, tears gathering again. “Kei’s been helping me. I am getting better, but it’s still bad. And that night, when the pack needed me most… I couldn’t shift. I couldn’t go with them. And if I had,” His voice broke completely, his face crumpling. “If I had, maybe we would’ve gotten there faster. Maybe Yuma wouldn’t be…” He trailed off, unable to finish, his gaze fixed on the unconscious wolf in the bed.
(Y/n)’s chest ached for him. For all of them, really. She reached out, gently resting her hand on his arm. “Taki… that’s not your fault. You’re trying. You’ve been trying every day, right? Then you’re already doing what you can.” But Taki shook his head, his throat working around the knot of guilt. “It doesn’t matter. Trying doesn’t stop my brother from lying half-dead in that bed.” (Y/n) had no words for that. Not really. All she could do was squeeze his arm gently, grounding him, her voice soft but steady. “You’re here now. That counts for something. More than you think.”
“You should go inside and get some sleep,” (Y/n) said, Taki opened his mouth to argue, his usual stubbornness flickering in his eyes, but the moment he met (Y/n)’s gaze, he faltered. There was a quiet desperation there, a need that mirrored his own but cut even deeper. She needed this, needed to sit with Yuma in a way that he couldn’t. He exhaled shakily, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Thank you.”
She gave him a small nod, offering a faint smile through the weight of everything pressing down on them. Taki lingered for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on Yuma’s face, before finally turning away, heading out the door with his shoulders still hunched and his eyes still a little red.
The room grew quieter after he left, save for the steady rhythm of Yuma’s breathing. (Y/n) lowered herself into the chair beside him, taking his hand in both of hers, clutching it tightly against her chest. His skin was warm, alive, and it was the only thing anchoring her.
Her thoughts spilled out before she could stop them, words whispered into the dim lamplight like prayers. “I miss you,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “I know it hasn’t been long, but I miss you so much.” Her thumb brushed over his knuckles, the simple touch both comforting and torturous. Tears pricked at her eyes, spilling before she could blink them away. “I like it here. With the pack. They feel like… family. And I want to share that with you. I want to see you smile with them again. With me.”
She let out a broken laugh, shaking her head as tears dripped down her cheeks. “I want to swim with you in the pond at Christmas. I want to wear something you made just for me. I want to make you dinner, just for you, something so good it makes you smile so wide your cheeks hurt. I want to…” her breath caught, her voice dropping to the smallest whisper, “…I want to kiss you. I want to know what it’s like to be loved by you,” The tears wouldn’t stop now, hot streaks running freely as she tried and failed to wipe them away. “So please,” she choked softly, “please come back to me, Yuma.”
Her body betrayed her exhaustion before her mind would allow it. Somewhere between words and tears, her head dipped forward, resting against his arm. She half-slumped in the chair, still holding his hand tightly even in sleep. Her breathing evened out eventually, but her fingers never loosened their grip. In the dim silence of the infirmary, the world felt impossibly still, except for the faint, nearly imperceptible twitch of Yuma’s fingers inside her grasp.
Sometime in the night, (Y/n) must have shifted in her sleep, because when she stirred awake in the faint light of morning, her entire body was in the bed beside Yuma. At first, she didn’t even move, too stunned by how peaceful he looked, how natural it felt to be lying there with him. It was probably the best sleep she’d gotten since the accident, deep and dreamless, wrapped in the warmth of his presence. She didn’t remember moving, but she must have.
Carefully, she tried to slip away, wanting to give him space, but the second she shifted, his entire body tensed. His arm locked around her, pulling her back against him. Her breath caught. His eyes were still closed, his face relaxed in sleep, but his grip was unyielding, as if some part of him knew she was there and refused to let her go. “Yuma…” she whispered softly, testing. “Can you let me go?”
No answer. Not even the faintest stir of awareness, except for the way his arm only tightened further, keeping her trapped against him. It was as if his body had gained consciousness without his mind, instinct taking over where his will couldn’t reach.
(Y/n) sighed, a mix of exasperation and aching tenderness. She didn’t want to leave, not really, but she couldn’t stay curled against him like this forever either. She tried wriggling gently, even softly prying at his arm, but it was like fighting against iron.
It wasn’t until the door opened and Fuma stepped in that she saw her chance. His sharp eyes immediately took in the scene, her caught in Yuma’s unconscious hold, and one of his brows lifted, though he said nothing. “Could you… maybe… help?” she asked sheepishly, her cheeks warm. Fuma moved closer without a word, his large hands careful as he pried Yuma’s arm loose just enough for her to slip free. The moment her body left his, Yuma shifted in his sleep, as though reaching for her, but he didn’t wake.
(Y/n) stood there, brushing her hair out of her face, her heart still pounding, her skin tingling where his warmth had clung to her. Fuma studied her quietly before speaking, his voice low but steady. “Even when he sleeps, his wolf knows who you are.”
(Y/n) lingered by the bed, brushing her fingertips over the edge of the blanket as Fuma adjusted it over Yuma’s side. She couldn’t hold back the question that sat heavy on her tongue. “Do you… do you think this means he’s getting better?” Her voice was soft, hopeful, almost afraid to believe it. Fuma’s lips curved into the faintest smile, a rare gentleness softening his usually steady features. “More than better. I’d say Yuma will wake sooner than you think.”
Her eyes widened, disbelief flashing across her face. “What?” Fuma turned his gaze back to Yuma, watching the slow, even rise and fall of his chest. “There’s no way you would have ended up laying in the bed like that on your own,” he said matter-of-factly. “He moved. He made space for you. And that arm,” he glanced meaningfully at where Yuma had kept her locked against him, “that wasn’t just instinct. That was Yuma choosing to hold you. Something he couldn’t have done in a coma.”
(Y/n) froze, her lips parting. The weight of his words sunk into her like a stone tossed into a still pond, rippling outward until her pulse was thrumming in her ears. “You mean… he’s awake?” “Not fully,” Fuma corrected, his voice low, calm. “He must have had a moment of consciousness during the night. He found you, he felt that you were there and he needed you closer. That means his wolf is fighting to return, I’d bet he’ll be fully awake by tonight.”
For a split second, every muscle in (Y/n)’s body screamed at her to shout, to shake Yuma’s shoulder, to force his eyes open just so she could see them again, so she could know. But she caught herself, her nails digging into her palms as she held the urge back. Fuma looked back at her, his smile faint but certain. (Y/n)’s chest ached as she glanced at Yuma, the smallest spark of relief flickering inside her. She wanted to laugh, to cry, to collapse into Fuma’s words, but instead, she stayed quiet, watching Yuma’s steady breathing, waiting.
Fuma and (Y/n) stepped into the main house, the smell of breakfast filling the air. The chatter died down as soon as the others saw them, every pair of eyes curious, waiting. It was Fuma who spoke, his calm voice steady but warm. He explained what he had seen, what he believed: Yuma wasn’t fully unconscious anymore, he had moved, he had protected (Y/n). It wasn’t the act of a body trapped in a coma, it was Yuma stirring back to them.
A quiet murmur spread across the table, heads turning, shoulders straightening. Hope sparked in their eyes, faint at first, then brighter, until the air itself seemed lighter. Even EJ, who often kept his composure for the sake of the others, let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“I’ll call Jay,” (Y/n) said suddenly, already fishing out her phone. “Neither Maki nor I will come in today. He deserves a break, and if Yuma really wakes up… I want to be here.” Maki tilted his head, torn. “Aw, I really do love working at Koyomi,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. But when he looked around at his packmates, all of them glowing with hope he hadn’t seen since before the attack, he broke into a smile. “But… yeah. I’d rather be here for this.”
The decision was made. They were going to be ready. The whole pack set to work, almost as if preparing for Yuma’s return would will it into reality. (Y/n) and Maki took over the kitchen, laughter and the clatter of pots spilling out into the hall as they planned and cooked dish after dish, until the long table was covered in the beginnings of a feast.
Nicholas, Jo, Taki, and Harua swept through the house, dusting, scrubbing, rearranging, anything to make the space feel fresh and welcoming. EJ and Fuma hauled wood to the clearing, stacking it into the beginnings of a bonfire that would keep the chill of autumn at bay. And Kei, with Aya perched happily beside him, strung up simple but beautiful decorations, lanterns, garlands of leaves, small glowing bulbs that bathed the room in warm light. Aya hummed as she worked, her excitement infectious.
By the time the sun began to dip, the house and village buzzed with anticipation, everything glowing with hope. They all wanted the same thing, that when the night fell, Yuma would open his eyes. And if he did… his pack, his mate, his family would be there waiting.
Hours slipped by, the air in the village humming with restless energy. Every wolf felt it in their bones, Yuma’s presence stirring more and more, his wolf clawing toward the surface. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in fading amber, and yet he hadn’t woken. Unable to sit idle any longer, (Y/n) slipped quietly into the infirmary. The room was dim, bathed in the soft glow of a lantern. Yuma lay still, peaceful, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was close. Right there. Almost back.
She sat down beside him, her hand finding his without hesitation, fingers curling tight around his. Leaning closer, her voice wavered as she whispered, “Yuma… come back to us. Please. Hurry.” For a heartbeat, nothing. Her chest tightened, her eyes burned. And then… A squeeze. Gentle but certain. Her breath caught, tears welling instantly. His eyelids fluttered, heavy at first, then lifted, revealing the warm, familiar gaze she’d been aching to see.
The pack felt it too, through their bond, an electric jolt of awareness, a shared rush of joy as their brother finally, finally woke. Yuma’s lips curved into the faintest grin, voice raspy but laced with playful warmth. “Missed me?” A shaky laugh escaped her, half sob, half relief. Tears slid down her cheeks as she shook her head, torn between wanting to hit him for being so cheeky after scaring her half to death, and just throwing her arms around him. She settled for clutching his hand tighter, her smile breaking through the tears. “You have no idea.”
The door burst open, and EJ nearly stumbled inside, Fuma right on his heels. Both older wolves froze for just a second before wide smiles lit up their faces at the sight before them, Yuma, sitting up, awake, talking, alive.
“Yuma,” EJ breathed, relief breaking through his usual calm composure. He clapped his younger packmate on the shoulder, firm but gentle, as though afraid Yuma might crumble under his touch. “You stubborn pup. You scared the hell out of us.” Fuma’s expression was softer, his eyes shining in a way that betrayed just how deeply he’d worried. “Welcome back,” he said quietly, though the weight behind those two words was immense.
A moment later, the patter of footsteps echoed through the hall, and Maki appeared in the doorway, his face brightening instantly. “He’s awake!” the youngest exclaimed, his voice carrying a mixture of joy and disbelief. (Y/n) didn’t even think; she turned toward Maki and wrapped her arms around him. He caught her without hesitation, hugging her tight, his own relief spilling out in the form of a laugh that cracked halfway into tears. In that embrace, she finally let out a trembling breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
From the bed, Yuma watched the two of them. For the briefest flicker, something hot twisted in his chest, jealousy, perhaps, but it didn’t take root. Because when he saw the way (Y/n) held Maki, it wasn’t romantic. It was protective, fond, the way a sister might cling to a younger brother. And the way Maki clung back was exactly the same. It filled Yuma with a strange, unexpected warmth. She was already part of his family. Already part of the pack. Still, his heart ached when Maki gently took (Y/n)’s hand and guided her toward the door. “Come on,” Maki said softly, his voice cracking a little with excitement. “Let’s tell the others. They’re all waiting.”
(Y/n) glanced back, her eyes meeting Yuma’s for a split second, a silent promise that she wasn’t leaving him for long, before stepping out with Maki.
Yuma exhaled slowly, shoulders slumping into the pillows as he was left with EJ and Fuma. The two older wolves studied him carefully, almost like parents looking over an injured son who had just come back from the brink. EJ’s jaw tightened, but his voice was steady. “You fought well. Too well, considering the state we found you in. But you’re here. That’s what matters.”
Fuma crossed his arms, his stern look undercut by the relief flooding his features. “You gave us a hell of a scare, Yuma. And you’ve got a lot to catch up on.” Yuma managed a small grin despite the lingering ache in his body. “Guess I missed a lot while I was napping, huh?” “More than you know,” Fuma replied, shaking his head, though a chuckle escaped him. EJ’s smile softened. “We’ll fill you in. But first… breathe. You’re home.”
With EJ on one side and Fuma on the other, Yuma made his way slowly through the main house, each step steadier than the last. His body was still weak, but the ache of his wounds had dulled to a manageable throb. What he needed most now was to feel clean, to scrub away the weight of blood, dirt, and sleep that clung to him like chains.
The shower was long overdue. The hot water hit his skin and steam rose around him, washing away the smell of antiseptic and the faint copper of dried blood. He braced himself against the tiled wall for balance, closing his eyes as the water cascaded down. With each drop, he felt more alive, more grounded in his body again.
When he finally stepped out, dressed in fresh clothes that smelled faintly of cedar and soap instead of smoke and battle, he felt human again, or at least as human as a wolf could. His hair damp, his body still aching, but the clarity in his chest was undeniable.
Yet there was something else clawing at him now, hunger. Wolves were always hungry, their metabolism devouring every scrap of food, but this… this was something else entirely. Two weeks without real sustenance left him hollow, aching with an insatiable need to eat. And the whole house wasn’t making it easier.
The rich scent of roasted chicken, the warmth of freshly baked bread, herbs simmering in butter, it wrapped around him, taunted him, made his stomach growl so loud that EJ snorted and Fuma chuckled. “You’ll eat,” Fuma promised, giving his shoulder a steadying squeeze. “We’ve got enough food to feed an army tonight, thanks to (Y/n) and Maki.”
At her name, Yuma’s chest tightened. His appetite sharpened, but not just for food. He needed her. Needed to see her face, to hear her voice with his waking ears, to confirm that the warmth he’d felt through those long, hazy nights had been real. He remembered fragments, her hand in his, her voice whispering words he couldn’t fully catch, the weight of her head against him, but it was all tangled in the fog of unconsciousness. Still, one truth burned clear: she had been there. Always. And now he longed for her more than anything else in the world.
The night air was crisp, carrying the scent of burning wood from the bonfire and the mouthwatering aroma of roasted meat and herbs from the tables piled high with food. Warm light flickered over the faces of the pack, every one of them smiling, relief written in their eyes as Yuma stepped outside. But Yuma hardly noticed any of it. His gaze locked instantly on her.
In the middle of the glowing scene, surrounded by decorations that swayed lightly in the breeze, stood (Y/n). She was radiant, her smile brighter than the fire itself. For a second, Yuma froze, his chest tightening in a way he couldn’t explain. Two weeks ago, she had been hesitant, cautious around him. Now… now it felt different. Like something had shifted while he’d been away in that darkness.
For the first time, he saw no fear, no walls in her expression, only warmth. Acceptance. His steps carried him forward almost on their own, though he felt strangely shy, almost like a boy about to hold someone’s hand for the first time. His heart hammered in his chest, his fingers twitching with the desperate urge to touch her, to confirm that she was really there.
But before he could reach out, she moved. (Y/n) stepped forward quickly, her hand sliding into his without hesitation. Her fingers curled tight around his, firm, grounding. Yuma inhaled sharply at the contact, his wolf settling instantly at the bond it had been aching for.
His smile broke wider than it had in months, maybe years. This was new, uncharted, but it felt right. Like breathing for the first time after being underwater too long. And he realized, standing there with her hand in his, that he didn’t need food, or fire, or even words at that moment. He only needed her.
The night stretched on like a dream. The sound of laughter and clinking plates had slowly faded as the pack members, one by one, fell asleep around the embers of the fire. What had once been a roaring bonfire was now only a soft glow, casting faint shadows across the clearing. The air was filled with the scent of woodsmoke, earth, and faint traces of food lingering in the cool night breeze.
Only two figures remained awake, huddled close together by the fire, (Y/n) and Yuma. Wrapped in the comfortable silence of exhaustion and belonging, they didn’t need words. The firelight danced across their faces, softening every line, every scar, every memory of the past weeks.
Then, quietly, almost like a secret, (Y/n) broke the silence. “I missed you…” Her voice wavered just slightly, but the weight of her words landed heavy in Yuma’s chest. He turned his head toward her, eyes softer than she had ever seen them, and whispered back, “I’m here now. It’s okay.”
The words wrapped around her like the fire’s warmth, but it was the way he looked at her that nearly undid her, the way his golden-brown eyes flickered between her own and her lips, filled with a longing he couldn’t quite hide. (Y/n)’s heart thundered, but she leaned closer, just enough that she could feel his breath against her skin. For a heartbeat, the world stilled.
Yuma’s breath hitched, his wolf howling in anticipation inside him, but still, he managed to murmur, “Are you sure?” She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she closed the distance, pressing her lips to his.
The kiss was warm, gentle at first, like testing the waters of something so fragile and precious it might break. But beneath it was the fire of everything they had been holding back, the weeks of waiting, the fear, the longing, the relief of finally being here, together, alive. One kiss wasn’t enough.
What began as tentative and sweet deepened quickly, their lips meeting again and again, each kiss hungrier, more desperate than the last, as if weeks of waiting and longing were finally spilling over in a rush neither of them could control. Yuma’s hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing over her skin tenderly, while (Y/n)’s fingers clung to the fabric of his shirt, holding him close. The rest of the world faded away until it was only them, and the quiet crackle of the dying fire.
(Y/n)’s body finally shivered when a cold autumn breeze swept across the clearing, pulling a soft gasp from her lips. Yuma immediately broke the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly around her, pulling her against his chest as if he could shield her from the chill with just his warmth. “Maybe…” he murmured softly against her hair, reluctant to let go but knowing better, “…maybe it’s time to wrap up this party. Go inside. Sleep.” (Y/n) leaned into his chest for just a second longer before nodding, whispering, “Yeah, you’re right.”
Together, they rose and moved to wake the others, soft nudges, quiet voices, laughter from a few half-asleep wolves grumbling at being dragged inside. But soon enough, the clearing was empty, and the warmth of the pack’s house called to them all.
Inside, everyone began to settle, Aya and Kei retreating to their little house, Maki dragging Jo into his room, making sure he didn’t sleep on the floor, though met with halfhearted complaints, Nicholas and Taki bickering over who got which blanket before collapsing onto the couches, and Harua dozing off before he even made it to his bed. The home quickly fell into that quiet hum of family settling for the night.
Yuma slipped into his own room, closing the door behind him. He let out a breath, still feeling the ghost of her lips on his, the warmth of her touch lingering. He thought for sure she would head toward the guest room she’d been staying in these past nights, and he tried not to let the pang of disappointment sink too deep.
A soft knock landed at his door. Yuma blinked, heart leaping. He opened it slowly, and there she was. (Y/n), standing nervously, her fingers curled into the hem of her sleeve, eyes flicking up to meet his. “Can I…” she hesitated, cheeks warming, “…can I sleep in here? With you?” For a second, Yuma could only stare, his wolf practically howling in joy inside him. Then, his face broke into the brightest smile she had ever seen.
“Of course,” he said, voice almost too soft, as though he was afraid she’d disappear if he spoke too loudly. He reached out, taking her hand gently, and tugged her inside. The door clicked shut behind them, and for the first time in weeks, Yuma felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.
Their story was just beginning yet it already held so much weight, their bond still growing, Yuma can’t wait to see what it leads to. (Y/n) fell asleep in his arms, dreaming of their future together.
~ The End ~
Thank you for reading this far! It was long, I know, sorry about that. Now, who do we think will find their mate next? Will it be Maki at the restaurant? Or EJ? Or Fuma? Will everyone have their happy ending? How will their ‘friendship’ with Jay turn out? Vampires and werwolves, not fighting?
Anyway, once again, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!
Wow!!!! I loved every second! This story kept me entertained throughout days and it felt like watching a movie inside my head🥰 I really rooted for them and I beeetttt the food tastes amazing
SUMMARY: sick and tired of their parents always arguing whenever one of them comes to pick ‘em up, yohan and haneul (or haneul and yohan, per haneul’s request) decide to organize a mission and make you and sunghoon fall in love again.
WARNINGS: starring JIHOON (reader’s new bf), fluff, divorced parents, shared custody, mentions of hickeys, insults, anger, fights, making out (jihoon & reader - later hoon & reader), memories, suggestive (barely by the end), mentions of pregnancy, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
NOW PLAYING: Keep on Loving You by Cigarettes After Sex & The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift
a/n: honestly i had so much fun writing this! i’ve been a little all over the place so sorry if i took some time to finish it 💔💔 please LIKE & REBLOG to spread 🩷 i’m proud of this, the writing course i took in april is paying off me thinks.
You stepped from the elevator onto the thirty-ninth floor, stilettos clicking over marble, so glossy it caught the overhead lights and flung them back in shards of silver.
The corridor outside Sunghoon’s penthouse still smelled faintly of the cedar-and-bergamot diffuser he favored, familiar, irritating and annoyingly comforting.
Your blouse was perfectly ironed, hair swept into a high ponytail, makeup soft but immaculate.
Beneath the collar your scarf hid the blooming marks Jihoon’s mouth had painted along your throat last nighjt, the silk wrapped delicately each time you swallowed, a secret reminder of how fast you’d already moved on.
You rang the bell. The custom steel door whispered open, and there he was: Park Sunghoon, ex-husband, ex-golden boy, barefoot in a charcoal cashmere sweater and sweatpants that draped too casually on a body still honed like a fencer’s blade.
which was unfair, since you had to hit the gym so much to get your body back after pregnancy.
A crooked half-smile lifted one corner of his lips, the exact smile that used to undo you, and still threatened to annoy you into irrationality.
“Two minutes late,” he said, leaning a shoulder to the jamb. “Color me shocked, you’re slipping.”
“Traffic was charitable,” you answered, gliding past him. “Or perhaps the universe felt sorry for me, knowing I’d be dealing with you.”
He gave a low, appreciative hum while closing the door. “Biting already. I Haven’t even offered you coffee yet.”
“God forbid,” you muttered. “Caffeine brewed by your hands might revert me to our marriage counseling days, and we both know how that ended.”
“Explosively.” His eyes flicked to the silk tucked at your neck, lingered just a second too long. The bastard had always been sharp. “New accessory? Striking choice for July.”
You lifted your chin. “Fashion, Sunghoon. Look it up sometime instead of living in sweatpants.”
He laughed under his breath and motioned toward the sun-drenched living room where floor-to-ceiling windows gave Seoul’s skyline center stage.
Lego castles sprawled across the rug, watercolor palettes lay open on the coffee table, brushes soaking in mismatched mugs.
Voices floated from the hallway: one soft and uncertain, the other bright and commanding.
“Haneul, put that down, you’ll spill!” Yohan fretted.
You couldn’t help smiling. They were your perfect halves, as contrasting and complementary as moonlight and flame.
The moment they spotted you, four small feet thundered over the hardwood.
“Mommy!” Haneul launched herself first, fierce as always, burrowing under your blouse in search of a hug.
She smelled like finger paint and the strawberry shampoo you’d chosen for her at six months old. Yohan arrived a breath later, slower, shy, but his arms slipped around your waist with a familiar sigh of relief.
“Hey, my loves,” you murmured, kissing each silky head. “Did you behave for Daddy?”
“They over-behaved,” Sunghoon said, folding arms across his chest. “I’m thinking of renting them out as examples to other children.”
Haneul stuck out her tongue at him. “We’re only good because we’re awesome,” she announced.
Yohan tightened his grip on your wrist, “We made you pictures,” he said, voice so small you bent to hear it. “I painted a galaxy.”
“And I drew a tiger eating a monster truck,” Haneul added proudly.
“My little artists,” you praised, gathering both creations. Yohan’s painting was good, while you werent really sure which one was the car and which one was the tigér in Haneul’s “These are masterpieces. They’re going on the fridge.”
Sunghoon’s gaze moved from the paintings to your face. “The kids have packed, everything’s by the door. I labeled the medicine for Yohan’s cough.”
A pause, then with exaggerated politeness he said “Should I also forward their pediatrician records to your… new friend? You know, in case of emergencies between making hickey art?”
Heat pricked your ears, but you smirked “Jihoon’s a doctor, actually, I think we’ll manage.”
“A doctor,” Sunghoon repeated, tilting his head “Good choice, someone has to keep you in one piece after you trip over your own pride.”
You arched a brow “Funny, that’s exactly what he said about you, except with more medical terminology.”
Haneul, oblivious, tugged your wrist “Mommy, can we bake cookies tonight? The really gooey ones?”
“Absolutely. Yohan, you’ll help too, right?”
He nodded shyly. “If I can stir.”
“Stirring is essential,” you assured him.
Sunghoon cleared his throat “Hang on,” he said, and vanished down the hallway. The twins scampered into the foyer to collect tiny backpacks, one blue and one purple.
You waited, fingers tracing the ridges of your wedding band’s phantom imprint— gone nearly a year now, yet some days it felt freshly removed.
He returned with two plushies, Yohan’s weathered penguin, Haneul’s stuffed phoenix, plus a zipped folder “Their latest school forms,” he said, pressing the folder into your free hand. “And Yohan’s reading log. He’s ahead of level again.”
You met his eyes, a reluctant swell of pride shared between adversaries “Thank you.”
An awkward beat.
The kind that used to end with a kiss back when the pauses held gravity, not distance.
He broke it first, voice low “They’re good kids because of you.”
“And you,” you granted softly. It was a truth neither of you enjoyed admitting.
Across the room the twins argued about who would press the elevator button.
Their little voices echoed like bells, filling corners once haunted by adult shouting. Your throat tightened, but hadn’t walked into this ivory tower to cry, so you blinked the tears back.
“You okay?” Sunghoon asked, more gently than expected.
You blinked “Peachy.”
He studied you, the way he once did across candlelit tables, conviction that he could read every flicker of thought.
His gaze drifted again to the scarf, and his lips curved, bittersweet “I don’t regret us,” he murmured. “Even if we’re better like this.”
“Better is relative,” you said, checking the time. “And you still owe me half the orthodontist fund.”
“Invoice me, I’ll pay promptly, unlike your boyfriend.” The playful barb slipped out before he could help it. You rolled your eyes.
Haneul appeared between you with the decisive stomp of a warrior princess. “Daddy, hug.”
He knelt, catching her in strong arms.
Yohan edged closer, and Sunghoon embraced him too, kisses pressed to raven hair. “Be good for Mom,” he said, and they nodded. Then his gaze lifted to you. “Text when you get home?”
“I will,” you answered.
This new civility was fragile; you weren’t about to break it.
At the door you paused, adjusting scarf and handbags while the elevator dinged. Sunghoon hovered in the threshold like a man thinking of unsaying things already said.
“Take care of yourself,” he said quietly.
“You too.” You hesitated, then added, “Try sleeping before three a.m. for once.”
“Doctor’s orders, I suppose.” He flashed that maddening crooked smile.
The elevator doors slid open, you shepherded the twins inside.
As the doors closed, Sunghoon raised two fingers in a casual salute. You answered with a small, wry wave.
The elevator began its silent descent. Haneul bounced on her heels “Mommy, can we call Uncle Jihoon on the way?”
“Maybe after dinner,” you said, smoothing her hair.
Yohan tugged your coat, whispering, “Will Daddy be lonely?”
Your chest tightened again, but you kept your voice steady Daddy has lots of things that keep him occupied, he’ll be fine.”
The numbers ticked downward.
You inhaled, catching faint traces of cedar that clung even here, and let them pass.
☆.
Jihoon’s mouth had trailed from the hollow behind your ear to the curve of your collarbone, each slow kiss coaxing a sigh you scarcely recognized as your own.
The loft’s floor-to-ceiling windows framed the late-afternoon light, dusty and gold, and the silk shirt you had worn for brunch lay discarded over the arm of the couch.
Jihoon’s hands explored beneath the lace edge of your bra, thumbs stroking the faint bruises his lips had left the night before.
When he murmured your name you arched into him, fingers threading through his soft brown hair.
“You taste like espresso.” he teased, breath warm against your shoulder.
“You made it too strong.” you whispered, nipping his lower lip.
His chuckle vibrated through both of you. “I make everything strong.”
The slow, building pressure of his body against yours blurred whatever fragile sense of time you’d carried in.
He nudged your knees apart, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the slope of your sternum, and you tugged at his belt with impatient fingers. He braced an arm beside your head, gaze glossy with heat. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need—” The sentence dissolved when his hips rolled, and you gasped, half laugh, half moan. “Jihoon, don’t—”
A faint buzz rattled somewhere to the left.
Phone? Table? Call? You ignored it, lifting to meet his mouth again. The buzz returned, more insistent, followed by a muffled ping.
Then another.
Jihoon pulled back just enough to look at you, hair falling into his eyes. “Want me to toss it onto the obalcony?”
You huffed a soft laugh. “Might be the hospital.”
“Fine.” He leaned, snagged his phone, squinted. “It’s yours.” he said when he found no missed call on his.
You frowned.
Your own phone lay face-down on the coffee table, screen pulsing with notification after notification.
When you flipped it, the lock screen lit with Sunghoon’s name… eight missed calls, two voicemails, half a dozen texts.
The last message read at 3:47 PM
Sunghoon: WHERE ARE YOU?
Blood drained from your face.
Pickup was three-thirty.
A twenty-minute cross-city drive in Friday traffic stood between you and the twins.
“Oh God,” you breathed. “I’m late. Jihoon, I’m late.”
He sat back instantly. “What— how late?”
“Half an hour, maybe more if we hit jams.” You shoved into your blouse, fumbling buttons wrong, then right, hand shaking.
The twins had never waited alone— Sunghoon’s anger was one thing, but Yohan’s shy heart twisted at schedule changes, and Haneul’s fierce bravado evaporated when she sensed tension.
Jihoon steadied your wrists. “I’ll drive,
give me the keys.”
“You have a shift—”
“Not till seven, come on.”
You stuffed rumpled hair into a claw clip, found your heels, and snatched your back before quickly bolting out of the house.
While Jihoon locked up, you hit call back. Sunghoon answered on the first ring; the controlled ice in his voice froze your spine.
“It’s four o’clock,” he said, no greeting. “You were due at three-thirty.”
“I know. Traffic—”
“Don’t you dare lie.” A hard exhale. “The twins have been sitting in the lobby with the doorman for twenty minutes because I have a meeting I can’t move.”
Guilt slammed like a wave. “I’m on my way! twenty-five minutes.”
“You should’ve been on your way an hour ago.” The line clicked deadk
Your stomach churned.
In the elevator Jihoon squeezed your hand, lips pressed to your temple. “Focus on breathing. We’ll make every light.”
You half-ran to his car.
jihoon wove through side streets, one palm steady on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh in silent reassurance.
You replayed the last four years in the windshield: the final shouting match with Sunghoon, ink drying on divorce papers, the fragile truce of shared custody.
You’d kept promises; pickups, drop-offs, parent-teacher nights— a flawless record until now. Your eyes stung. Jihoon squeezed again. “They’ll be okay, Sunghoon too.”
“Sunghoon doesn’t do ‘okay., he does perfect schedules and synchronized watches.”
“He can survive twenty minutes of imperfection.”
“He’ll make sure I don’t.”
Jihoon hit the horn, merged ruthlessly. “He’ll snarl, you’ll snarl back, then you’ll take the kids home. That’s it.”
The GPS ticked minutes downward while the sun slid west.
At 4:24PM the logo over Sunghoon’s building loomed like a herald of judgement. You leapt from the car before Jihoon had fully stopped.
Inside, the concierge recognized you and your panic, and gestured toward a leather bench.
Yohan sat small-shouldered, backpack clutched to his chest. Haneul swung her legs defiantly, scowling at every adult in range. The instant they spotted you, mixed relief and hurt flooded their faces.
You knelt. “I’m so sorry, babies.” You wrapped them both close. “Traffic swallowed me whole.”
Sunghoon approached from the elevators, suit jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled to elbows, jaw tight. His presence alone thickened the air.
“Thank Mr. Seo for babysitting,” he told the twins, nodding to the concierge. They murmured thanks.
Then his eyes skewered you. “My office lost a forty-million-won client because I had to sprint downstairs.” His tone remained low, but fury simmered beneath. “You didn’t answer until the tenth call.”
“I was— occupied,” you admitted, heat crawling up your throat.
“With Doctor Perfect.” His gaze flicked to the slight smudge of your lipstick above Jihoon’s collar. “How responsible.”
Jihoon entered then, purposeful but calm.
He offered a slight bow. “Afternoon, Mr. Park. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, the delay was my fault.”
Sunghoon laughed once, sharp. “Chivalry? Cute. It doesn’t un-delay my schedule.” He turned back to you. “If you can’t honor the pickup window, you need to let me know, they sat with strangers.”
“Mr. Seo isn’t a stranger,” you argued, but your shoulders drooped. “I know it’s my fault.”
“Damn right,” he snapped, then seemed to remember the children’s wide eyes and moderated his voice. “From now on, if you’ll be late, call at least half an our ahead.”
Jihoon stepped forward. “We’ll set extra alarms. She truly—”
Sunghoon’s palm lifted, silencing him. “This is between their mother and me.”
Haneul spoke up, fierce loyalty flashing. “Daddy, Mommy said sorry. Let it go.”
Sunghoon regarded his daughter, pride and frustration warring.
Yohan’s hand slipped into yours; his small fingers trembled. You tucked him under your arm.
“I’ll make it up,” you promised, meeting Sunghoon’s gaze. “I’ll take them also tomorrow, feed them, homework, baths. Drop them at school in the morning.”
“We already have plans,” he said. “But go now. I have work.” He crouched to the twins’ level, anger vanishing behind tenderness. “Love you both. Be good, buckle up.”
They hugged him tight. When they stepped back he straightened, facing you again, expression calmer but still flinty. “One slip, fine. Don’t let it become a pattern.”
“It won’t,” you said.
Jihoon touched the small of your back— steady warmth. Sunghoon’s eyes tracked the gesture, but he only nodded once, curt, and strode toward the second bank of elevators, phone already to ear.
In the car, silence settled until Haneul blurted, “Mommy, you’re never late.”
You winced. “I messed up. I’m sorry.”
Yohan leaned against you. “We forgave you already.”
Your chest ached. Jihoon glanced in the mirror. “Cookies and extra sprinkles tonight?”
Haneul brightened. “Bear shaped!”
“And maybe a penguin one for Yohan,” you added.
Promise of sugar thawed the tension.
As Jihoon eased into traffic, his hand sought yours again. You squeezed, grateful.
You texted Sunghoon
You: Home safe. Thanks for waiting.
The read receipt appeared instantly, yet no reply came.
Perhaps it wouldn’t tonight. You would face him again at soccer practice on Sunday, armed with punctuality and contrition.
For now you had twins chattering about cookie shapes and a man beside you who smelled of hand sanitizer and steadfast patience.
But it didn’t quite soothe you as Sunghoon’s cedar scent did.
☆.
You had tucked Yohan beneath his rocket-printed duvet at nine-thirty sharp, smoothing the fringe from his lashes while he whispered requests for “just one more chapter.”
Haneul occupied the opposite bunk across the room, arms folded in protest because her brother’s galaxy comforter looked “cooler than boring princess swirls.”
You compromised: two pages more of Tangled for them both and a promise of pancakes at dawn, then a good-night kiss to each forehead.
When you eased the door nearly shut, lwaving a narrow sliver left open so hallway light could chase away nightmares, you heard nothing but the hush of their synchronized breathing and, somewhere deeper in the apartment, the distant drip of the kitchen faucet you still forgot to call the landlord about.
In your bedroom you exchanged slacks for an oversized tee, idly scrolling through Sunghoon’s terse email about next week’s parent–teacher conference: concise bullet points, no greeting, no sign-off, just times and an attachment.
You answered with equal brevity: noted, see you there, and hit send before second-guessing tone.
Jihoon’s name flashed in a new message immediately after.
Hoon 🩷: Miss you already. ER’s a madhouse tonight. Sleep soon?
You smiled at the screen, typed back quickly
You: pancake duty at sunrise but I’ll try.
and set the phone facedown.
The apartment settled into its nocturnal symphony: refrigerator humming, street traffic, a soft river flowing some feet away, and you let eyelids flutter shut unaware of the quiet rebellion brewing down the hall.
Haneul waited until the hallway light dimmed on the smart timer, ten-fifteen, then kicked off her blanket.
She tiptoed across cool laminate, clutching her phoenix plush like a talisman.
Yohan was already half-propped on elbows, eyes wide behind the milky glow of the small astronaut night-lamp.
“You‘re awake too?,” he whispered, voice feather-soft so it wouldn’t carry.
“Mission time,” she declared, clambering onto the mattress beside him.
The springs squeaked; both froze, listening.
No footsteps. No Mommy. Safe.
Yohan scooted to make room, pulling up his notebook, the one with planetary rings on the cover and TOP SECRET scribbled in bubble letters.
Inside, colored-pencil schematics sprawled across pages: stick-figure Mommy and Daddy separated by a jagged thunderbolt, arrows leading to a giant red heart.
Haneul grabbed a purple crayon. “Step one, we need a plan that makes them talk without all the blah blah fight stuff.”
Yohan nodded solemnly, pencil poised. “Like a peace treaty.”
“Treaties are boring. We need… a trap.” She drew a square labelled family patch HQ and, under that, two stick grown-ups with startled eyebrows.
He frowned. “Daddy doesn’t like when we surprise him, and mommy gets scared when daddy is mad.”
“Fine,” she allowed, tapping the page. “Then we make them do something happy together. What do they both like?”
Yohan’s brow furrowed, deep in six-year-old contemplation. “Coffee?” he suggested.
“They’ll just drink and talk about bills.” Haneul rolled her eyes. “Think bigger.”
“Skating!” he blurted. “Daddy took us to the frozen fountain last winter. Mommy laughed a lot that day.”
Haneul’s grin flashed feral. “Yes. Ice. But how do we get them there at the same time?”
They fell into hushed deliberation, heads bent, plush phoenix wedged like a conference mascot between them.
Yohan proposed forged invitations to a “special parents’ night” at the rink.
Haneul countered with a surprise picnic in the middle of the ice, blankets, cocoa, maybe glitter bombs. Yohan worried about glitter in skates; Haneul insisted glitter fixed everything.
They compromised: glitter only on the thermos.
Haneul flipped to a fresh page. “Backup plan in case they can’t pic nic: make them watch old wedding videos.”
Yohan’s eyes widened. “Do we have those?”
“Grandma does. We can ask but pretend it’s for school.”
“I don’t like fibbing.”
“It’s not fibbing,” she soothed. “It’s… diplomacy.” She’d heard Sunghoon use the word during a heated phone call and liked how it rolled off the tongue.
They listed supplies: colored paper, cocoa packets, marshmallows shaped like stars (non-negotiable), enough allowance coins to bribe the rink guard, and Sunghoon’s spare keycard if pick-up shuttling required infiltration of his apartment.
Haneul promised she could swipe it from the crystal bowl by his door.
Yohan fretted about fingerprints, but she waved him off “Daddy is a CEO, not an FBI agent.”
When strategies tired their brains, Yohan yawned cavernously.
Haneul fished a flashlight from under the pillow, clicked it on beneath a shared blanket, and they whispered final oaths of secrecy— not a peep to grown-ups, especially not Jihoon, because doctors asked too many questions.
They spat on palms with theatrical disgust, then sealed the pact with a sticky handshake that made them giggle until Yohan clapped both hands over his mouth.
Haneul switched off the flashlight. She nestled beside her twin brother, fingers intertwined.
“Mommy and Daddy will be happy again,” she murmured into darkness, more a statement than a wish.
Yohan swallowed. “Even if they don’t get married again… maybe they’ll laugh.”
She nudged him with an elbow. “They’ll laugh. And then we won’t have to pack bags every other weekend like ping-pong balls.”
He considered this, then nodded. “Mission: family patch!” he recited, sleep thickening his voice. “Operation commence tomorrow at oh-six-hundred.”
Haneul had no idea what hour that was, but Yohan liked numbers, so she agreed and commanded the phoenix plush to stand lookout.
By the time its stitched wings drooped against the pillow, both children drifted under, breathing in unison, dreaming of twirling ice and microscopic glitter storms, of coffee steam curling between two grown-ups who once loved each other enough to make a galaxy-painting boy and a tiger-riding girl.
Down the hall, you lay unaware, one arm flung over your eyes, pondering whether to email Sunghoon a proper apology for last week’s tardy scramble.
You debated phrasing until thoughts blurred, eventually you decided morning clarity would serve better.
Had you risen to peek in on the twins, like you usually did before sleeping, you might have noticed the double rise and fall beneath Yohan’s quilt or the faint scent of purple crayon still hanging in the air.
☆.
You spent Saturday morning lost in the weekend routine: laundry tumbling in the washer, a precarious tower of receipts on the dining table begging to be categorized, too distracted to notice the unnatural hush in the twins’ room and ghe sudden disappearance of your phone.
Sunghoon, the next day, somewhere across the river, sat in his high-rise office final-polishing a pitch deck, blissfully ignorant that Yohan and Haneul were toggling between his unlocked laptop.
While you counted vitamins into a plastic day-pill container, they sent your mother a text requiring your wedding videos for a school project. She dropped a USB driver when you were busy hanging out the clothes.
Then, they plundered the external drive labeled ARCHIVE— DO NOT DELETE on Sunghoon’s computer.
Up popped camcorder footage: you six months pregnant, satin wedding dress tailored around your belly; Sunghoon in a dove-gray suit, gaze locked on you like earth’s true north.
The twins giggled at their own embryonic cameos— your wobbling walk down the aisle, Sunghoon’s trembling hands when he kissed your knuckles, your joint vows whispered over the soundtrack of distant seagulls.
Haneul clipped segments without mercy, Yohan layering transitions that blinked neon pink and comic-sans captions: LOOK HOW MUCH THEY LOVED EACH OTHER! A royalty-free harp arpeggio looped beneath every frame, jerky and too loud..
Yohan handled logistics. He typed on Sunghoon’s email: “Client call moved. I’ll be offlain after noon.”
Haneul commandeered your phone when you left it charging beside the toaster. Her thumbs flew: “Running errands.” even if she didn’t really know what it meant “Taking kids skating at Star Rink tomorrow, can you grab them at four? :) Grab your skates, maybe they wanna stay longer”
The smiley looked nothing like your usual punctuation and everything like six-year-old exuberance, but they trusted adult obliviousness.
Next they texted you from his own work chat window, Yohan’s idea, so a parallel message pinged onto your lock screen: “I’ll drop twins at rink 3:30. You pick ’em up? Thanks. Bring your skates in case they want to stay longer.”
Then they deleted the threads, archiving proof deep in message trash where no one ever scrolled.
Grandma arrived at noon.
Your mother thought the surprise visit was your idea; you didn’t know that neither Sunghoon nor you were aware of their secret mission.
By three-thirty you shoved your skates into a canvas tote, wondering why Sunghoon had promised the twins ice on a weekend so crammed.
Still, a commitment was a commitment, and guilt over last week’s tardy pickup nipped your conscience.
You arrived to Star Rink’s gleaming atrium just after three-fifty, breath fogging in the artificially cooled air, muttering apologies you’d craft for tiny ears.
The rink looked unusually empty, just a few teenagers practicing spins, no sign of your children skating with your ex husband.
Then a familiar voice echoed across the polished concrete. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Sunghoon strode from the opposite entrance, coat unfastened, skates slung over one shoulder.
His surprise mirrored yours so perfectly it might have been choreographed— which, unknown to either of you, it had.
“You said to be here at four,” he accused.
You blinked. “No— you said i’d grab them at four.”
He frowned. “I have the text.” He dug for his phone, scrolling with brows knit. You mirrored him, finding nothing but your past conversations.
“Where are the twins?” you asked, throat tightening.
“Probably hiding behind a pillar laughing at us.” He scanned the rink. “Come on, rascals, out!”
No answer.
Only the squeak of rental skates and the distant crunch of blades carving ice.
You and Sunghoon shared a look that bridged the chasm of months— parental telepathy laced with worry.
A rink attendant in a blue windbreaker approached, clipboard in hand. “Mr. Park? Ms. L/N?”
“Yes,” you both answered, then glared at each other for saying it in unison.
The attendant smiled like someone who’d been tipped off. “Your children dropped off a USB this morning. Asked us to play it at four sharp. They said you might… need context.” She gestured toward the suspended Jumbotron above center ice.
Its four screens currently looped skate sponsors.
You opened your mouth— closed it. Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed.
“They told us to inform you they are at their Grandma’s, safe and sound.” She made air quotes.
Haneul’s grin flashed in your memory, wicked and gap-toothed. Yohan’s shy collusion behind it. You dragged a hand over your face. “Demons.”
The attendant glanced at the wall clock. 3:58. “We were also told to insist you both ‘get on the ice first so the magic works.’ Their words.”
Sunghoon pinched the bridge of his nose, then sighed. “Fine. Humor us.”
You laced skates side by side on a bench, trying not to notice how his forearm brushed yours when he tugged his bootstrings, how the slice of his jaw looked less severe up close, how the citrus-cedar cologne you once bought him still anchored memories.
When you stood, wobbling, he offered a reflexive hand, not the poised businessman, just the competitive skater who’d coached you through a thousand laps in winter courting days.
Muscle memory overruled pride, you let him steady you onto the ice.
The rink felt cavernous without the twins’ chatter. Fluorescent lights struck the frozen surface in blue shivers. You pushed off cautiously, lungs filling with cold whisper-clean air.
Sunghoon glided backward, assessing your form. “Knees bent,” he murmured, in instinctive coach mode.
“I remember,” you said, managing a credible curve. Across the ice, teen couples twirled; pop music thumped overhead. That familiarity, him skating circles until your confidence caught, stirred warmth you tried to quell.
At exactly four-o-one the music cut, replaced by a jarring harp trill booming through loudspeakers.
The Jumbotron flickered snowflakes, then a shaky camcorder frame: you in pearls, belly round under ivory silk, Sunghoon at the altar, eyes glossy.
Your skate edges wobbled. “Oh, my God.”
He looked up, jaw slack.
The audio crackled— your voice in 720p, laughing, telling the officiant a twins joke mid-vow and everyone roaring. Caption bubbles popped: THEY WERE SO CUTE! :’) Glitter GIFs rained down pixelated gold across the screen.
The edit jumped, janky cross-fade to the first dance where Sunghoon’s hands rested protectively on your curve.
A subtitle shouted: LOOK HOW DADDY STARED AT MOMMY!
A collective “awww” rose from rink spectators. Your cheeks burned.
Then the too loud music started, deafening everyone around.
Sunghoon skated closer, voice low. “Where did they even get this?”
Onscreen footage shifted to the hospital delivery room, your mother must’ve filmed it, Sunghoon pressing lips to your brow while monitors beeped.
Then a freeze-frame zoom-in on both newborns, overlay text in rainbow font: MISSION FAMILY PATCH: ACTIVEIGHT.
Mutters of delight filtered from onlookers.
You swayed slightly, Sunghoon caught your elbow. For a long heartbeat neither of you moved, riveted by the stumble-through montage, first bath, stroller race, your exhausted faces side by side on the couch.
The amateur edit felt like a love letter scrawled in crayon, messy yet searingly sincere.
When the screen faded to white with a final flourish, PLEASE LOVE AGAIN, silence thawed into soft arena applause. The attendant cut the feed and awkwardly restarted the playlist.
You exhaled, a shudder that misted the chilly air. “They went to Grandma’s so we’d be forced to… reconnect.”
“Tiny criminals,” he murmured, but his voice wasn’t angry. just overwhelmed. And guilty.
You eased back, studying him. Ice crystals peppered his hair where condensation had settled.
He looked suddenly tired, the rapid-fire CEO shutters pulled open to something vulnerable.
“They miss the way we used to laugh,” you said, throat tight.
“Do you?” he asked, earnestness slipping out before he could clothe it in sarcasm.
“Yes,” you admitted, quiet, surprising even yourself. “I miss when we were on the same team.”
He nodded, gaze drifting to your scarf, today a soft gray, no hickeys to hide, “We’re still parents. That team never dissolved.”
“You’re right. We just… forgot how to play.”
He released a breathy chuckle. “Leave it to our kids to schedule a remedial practice.”
You managed a tentative smile. The playlist shifted to a mellow jazz instrumental. Without thinking you extended a hand. “One lap? For old times.”
He took it gently, palm warm through your glove.
Together you pushed off, synchronizing lengths like gear teeth meshing.
The glide settled into familiar rhythm— your left, his right, bodies leaning, inside edges kissing ice.
He matched speed to yours, never showboating. Halfway around, muscle memory took over and you attempted a cautious crossover.
He guided your hips with featherlight fingertips, murmuring corrections the way he had when teaching you to skate backwards: “Weight over the heel, trust the blade.”
Trust.
That had been the fragile axis after divorce, trust in schedules, trust in boundaries, but not in closeness.
Yet here, under fluorescent hum and cinnamon-cocoa rink air, your body remembered what your mind had shelved, you trusted him to keep you upright on ice.
He trusted you with the beating hearts of his children.
When you completed the circuit, neither of you let go immediately.
You drifted near the boards, hearts thudding louder than rental pop. Finally he cleared his throat. “We should call them. Let them know mission accomplished… partially.”
You laughed softly. “They’ll demand proof.”
“Let’s take a picture then, to show them.”
“Alright.” You murmured, taking your phone out of your jeans and handing it to him.
He took it, a shy quirk on an otherwise confident man. “Say cheese.”
His hand rested on the small of your back, so familiar it was almost painful.
Heat jolted through your body, and he must have felt it too because his own shifted closer.
“Cheese.” You breathed out and he took the selfie before giving you your phone back.
A comfortable hush settled.
You studied his profile, the slope of cheekbone, faint crease where laughter used to live.
Something gentle stirred beneath ribs, not romantic lightning, but a warm tide of possibility.
“If we’re going to be ambushed by our own offspring,” you said, “maybe we should carve out time to talk, really talk, before they escalate.”
“Dinner?” he offered, simple as breathing. “Somewhere public. Neutral ground.”
You lifted a brow. “Supervised by waitstaff instead of kindergarteners.”
“Exactly.” His smile warmed. “Next Thursday? I’ll book at that Italian place you like.”i
“Email me the details.” You squeezed his arm once before stepping back. “And… thanks for catching me earlier.”
“Always.” The word hovered in the cool air, sincere and unvarnished.
You skated toward the exit, heart lighter.
Behind you, Sunghoon called after with playful edge, “Try not to be late this time.”
You looked over a shoulder, grin spreading. “Set a reminder for me, tech genius.”
He laughed, unrestrained, head tipped, and the sound echoed like silver bells across the rink.
You carried it with you off the ice, past the attendant who winked knowingly, past teenagers still buzzing about the cutest video ever, all the way to the lobby where your phone buzzed with a photo from your mother: twins on her sofa, popcorn bowl between them, thumbs-up so wide it nearly cracked the frame.
You texted back: Nice try, tiny masterminds. We’ll talk when you’re home. Love you.
You opened Sunghoon's chat:
You: They’re officially grounded from espionage… but I’m glad they tried. See you Thursday.
Three dots pulsed. His reply came shortly after
Sunghoon: I’m glad too. Good night, Y/N
You slipped the phone away, realizing your cheeks still ached from smiling.
Outside, dusk mellowed the skyline into lavender and rose.
You inhaled the bite of winter air the rink expelled each time doors opened and thought maybe patchwork didn’t have to recreate an old quilt; it could stitch something new— imperfect seams, frayed threads, surprisingly strong.
And thanks to two relentless six-year-olds, the first patch was already in place.
☆.
You sat across from Jihoon in the hospital’s rooftop garden, wind tugging faintly at the corners of the pale-blue picnic blanket he’d spread on a lunch break more rushed than he admitted.
A single thermos of his too-strong espresso steamed between you, the scent mingling with oregano from planters that volunteers kept for the pediatric wing.
His eyes, steady, kind and edged with fatigue from a sixteen-hour shift, searched your face while you traced invisible constellations on the blanket’s plaid.
He smiled, soft. “You’re quiet today. That usually means your brain’s ten paragraphs ahead of your mouth.”
You huffed a small laugh. “Guilty.”
“Talk to me.”
The ease in his invitation nearly unstitched your resolve.
You folded your hands, thumbs fidgeting. “Jihoon… I need to tell you something, and I don’t know how to do it without sounding ungrateful.”
He uncapped the thermos, poured you half. “Just say it.”
You met his gaze, the gentle brown that had steadied you through late-night panics and blues, and felt the first sharp twist of regret. “I care about you so much. You know that, right?”
“I know.” A faint line appeared between his brows. “And?”
“And I’ve loved how safe I feel with you, how easy things are.” You wrapped cold fingers around the paper cup. “But after what the twins pulled at the rink… I realized easy isn’t the same as… a spark.” The last word trembled in the air.
He swallowed, intake of breath small but audible. “You mean Sunghoon.”
“I mean the life I had with him. The mess, the fire.” You exhaled. “I don’t want to hurt you, you’ve been nothing but wonderful.”
Jihoon’s shoulders sagged, but he nodded once, firm and deliberate. “Feelings aren’t crimes, they just… happen.” He scanned the skyline, blinking hard. “We both knew from the start your heart was still boarded up with ‘handle fragile’ stickers.”
“I thought time would change that, and maybe it could have. But when I stood on that ice and saw the way he steadied me—” Your voice cracked. “I felt something snap back into alignment and I can’t pretend I didn’t.”
Jihoon rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Are you going back to him?”
“I’m going to ask if we can try, slowly. i don’t even know if he wants that.”
He gave a rueful smile. “He’d be a fool not to.” Then, softer, “Do you love him?”
You opened your mouth, closed it, then whispered, “Yes.”
Silence hung, broken only by the flap of pigeons and distant ambulance sirens.
Jihoon inhaled and squared his shoulders like a surgeon scrubbing in. “Then you owe it to yourself, and to the twins, to see. And I owe it to myself to not be someone’s gentle detour.”
Tears blurred your vision. “You deserve someone who blazes for you.”
“Yeah,” he said, tone light but eyes wet, “I intend to find her.” He leaned forward, brushed a thumb beneath your cheekbone. “Thank you for being honest before resentment set roots. That takes guts.”
You laughed shakily. “Feels more like cowardice.”
“Honesty’s never cowardice.” He squeezed your hand, then released it. “Go tell him, before I change my mind and keep you here for selfish reasons.”
You rose, tucking the cup near the planter. “I’ll always be grateful of you, Jihoon.”
“Just remember me when the twins need free check-ups. I can still be their uncle Jihoon.” His chuckle chased you to the elevator, bittersweet but genuine.
☆.
Clouds brooded violet over the Han River by the time you stepped from a taxi at Sunghoon’s building.
You forced a breath, rode the elevator thirty-nine floors, and stared at the steel door, heartbeat ricocheting.
Before you could knock, it slid open, sunghoon stood framed in warm lamplight, phone pressed to ear, expression surprised.
He was about to head somewhere, but he ended the call anyways. “Did we schedule something I forgot?”
“No,” you said, voice thin. “Can I come in?”
He stepped aside, bare feet on oak planks, the apartment scented faintly of roasted sesame, maybe early lunch abandoned.
He waited until the door shut, then folded arms. “Is everything okay with the kids?”
“They’re fine. At Mom’s till tomorrow.” You swallowed. “I needed to talk… without small ears.”
His eyes softened, wariness mingled with curiosity. He gestured toward the sofa where plushies still lounged from last custody swap.
You both sat, leaving a cushion of space that pulsed with old familiarity and new tension.
You braced elbows on knees. “After the rink video, I’ve been… rethinking a lot.”
Sunghoon’s jaw tensed. “Thought we agreed not to scare them with false hope.”
“This isn’t about false hope.” You looked up, meeting his gaze head-on. “It’s about real hope, but only if you want it too.”
His breath caught. “You’re serious.”
“Yes.” Words tumbled out, halting at first, then fluid. “I miss the way you used to leave notes in my pockets, how you’d call from the taxi just to hear me breathe.
you gulped, laying down the cards alongside uour heart “I miss us arguing about which tea to drink and making up before the kettle boiled. I don’t miss the screaming matches or the silence afterwards, but I believe we’ve grown. The twins forced us to see we can still be a team.” You exhaled. “So I broke things off with Jihoon this afternoon.”
Shock flickered across his features, surprise, then something almost like relief.
He reached for you, stopped, lowered his hand. “I don’t want you to choose me if being with him made you happy.”
“I know,” you murmured. “And lord, he was amazing.”
You looked up at him, emotions flickering on your face “But he wasn’t you.”
Silence pooled, thick but gentle. Finally he asked, “What does ‘try again’ look like to you?”
“Coffee on Sunday mornings, just us, talking about anything except bills. Shared therapy if we fall into old traps. Dates, real ones, ending in separate apartments if pace matters. Honesty every step.”
“And what if the spark still scorches us?” His voice husky.
“Then we keep ice buckets nearby,” you teased, then sobered. “I’m not promising a fairytale, just the chance to rebuild.”
He stood, paced to the window where Seoul glittered like scattered gemstones.
Reflection haloed him in citylight. “I never stopped loving you,” he said, quiet, raw. “I just stopped believing love was enough.”
You rose, walked until you stood an arm’s length away. “Love isn’t enough. But love and work, and two pint-sized spies, might be.”
He laughed softly, turned, and took your hands. “Okay,” he breathed. “Slowly.”
“Slowly,” you echoed. The warmth of his palms radiated up your arms, familiar and electric.
He drew you into an embrace— tentative at first, then securing, his chin atop your head, your ear over his heart.
The rhythm there felt both new and remembered. You closed your eyes, inhaling cedar and a hint of sesame, and let your muscles melt into a shape they’d once known by instinct.
Minutes or hours might have passed, until finally Sunghoon pulled back a fraction, eyes shining. “Stay for dinner? I burned the sesame oil but I can salvage the soup.”
You smiled through wet lashes. “I’ll chop scallions.”
His lips curved, softness where they’d once been rigid with pride. “And after we eat, we’ll draft a co-parenting treaty version two. The kind with glitter.”
“All treaties should have glitter,” you agreed.
Hand in hand, you moved toward the kitchen, steps slow, hearts quicker.
Behind you the plush phoenix slumped against the penguin on the couch, as if exhausted from orchestrating fate.
The sizzle of rekindled soup and the gentle scrape of knives against cutting board marked the beginning, not of going back, but of beginning again, eyes open, promises tempered, sparks tended, slow and deliberate as the first stroke of a painter restoring a treasured canvas.
☆.
The slow-burn weeks unfolded like pages warmed by sunlight:
Thursday pasta in your kitchen where Yohan grated parmesan with the gravity of a jeweler cutting diamonds and Haneul dirtied the whole table with tomato sauce.
Saturday mornings on Sunghoon’s cavernous couch, your sock-clad feet tucked under a shared blanket while Haneul narrated every plot twist.
Sunday morning pancake (very poor) art, followed by polite squabbles over syrup real estate.
Between those orchestrated family moments lived quieter, riskier hours, you and Sunghoon trading texts about who’d forgotten the dental forms, a lingering brush of knuckles while rinsing dishes, the way his gaze tracked you when he thought the twins weren’t looking.
No lightning strike, no fireworks, just kindling stacking itself, breath by breath, until even a whisper could set it alight.
The spark finally caught on a drizzly Friday café run.
You’d slipped into his apartment with take-out bulgogi and a box of those “unnecessarily cute” star-shaped macarons that made the twins squeal.
Post-dinner they demanded a pillow-fort marathon of Spirited Away, then conked out before Chihiro met Haku.
You and Sunghoon carried them, limp with sleep, to the joined rooms they had, the very first room you had used.
When you straightened, Sunghoon’s hand stayed at the small of your back a fraction longer than necessary, you turned, breath hitching at how near his lips had drifted.
No audience. No distractions. Just you, him, a hush weighted by weeks of restraint.
“You’re wearing the honey lipstick again,” he murmured, thumb ghosting the corner of your mouth.
You swallowed. “Maybe I remember it’s your favorite.”
His laugh rumbled low, intimate. “Flattery, or a tactical move?”
“Depends,” you whispered, pulse hammering.
He leaned in, tentative once, then confidence flooded as your mouths met, soft and searching, the air swelling with the musk of his cologne and rain on windowpanes.
The first kiss tasted of nostalgia, salt-sweet like melted macarons; the second tasted of now, your tongue sliding against his, a hungry sigh you’d forgotten your body could make.
His palm cupped your jaw, thumb tracing your pulse, the heat where he touched felt almost unbearable.
When he drew back, breathing ragged, he whispered your name the way it used to fall in the quiet just before dawn: reverent, claiming, achingly gentle.
“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, forehead resting against yours. “If it’s too fast—”
“Don’t stop,” you answered, fingers fisting in the collar of his henley. “Please.”
Walls you’d rebuilt brick by brick tumbled with shocking softness.
He nudged you against the hallway wall, kisses deepening, teeth grazing your lower lip.
Dirty words slipped from his mouth, pet names soaked in promise, in memory of every night you’d once mapped each other’s bodies, and you answered with a breathy moan that made him curse softly.
His hands found the hem of your dress, palms warm against your thighs, but he slowed, seeking permission, you guided his wrists higher.
Fabric rustled, buttons surrendered, you pressed close, reveling in the feel of his broad back under your roaming hands, the ripple of muscle tightening as he lifted you slightly to fit knees between your legs.
Desire pooled, insistent yet exquisitely familiar, as though this dance had only paused, never ended.
“Bedroom,” he managed, voice gravel.
You nodded, mouths colliding again as he half-walked, half-carried you down the hall.
And you collided in bed, sheets tangled around your forms dancing a tango you had forgotten was so familiar with him.
Morning sunlight shone through the curtains Sunghoon had forgotten to open the prior night.
You stirred first, disoriented, then aware of every muscle pleasantly overworked.
Sunghoon’s arm lay across your waist, his hand splayed over your stomach. You tilted to watch him sleep, lashes fanning his cheeks, lips parted.
Sheer peace... well, a peace that shattered with the stampede of four small feet.
The bedroom door crashed open, squeals ricocheted off walls.
“Attack!” Haneul shrieked, launching herself onto the mattress.
“Dad, wake up!” Yohan followed, slightly less feral but equally determined, penguin plush waving like a flag of conquest.
Sunghoon woke with a strangled grunt just before twenty-five kilos of enthusiasm landed on his rib cage. You fumbled to pull the duvet higher— too late. Haneul’s eyes went huge.
“Mommy’s wearing Daddy’s shirt!” she crowed, triumphant as a detective cracking a cold case.
Yohan grinned. “Mission success?”
You gaped, cheeks flaming, while Sunghoon scrubbed a hand over his face, half mortified, half amused. “Guys, personal space?”
“It’s dawn,” Haneul reasoned. “Cartoons await!”
“I think it’s barely seven.” Your voice rasped embarrassingly. “Can’t cartoons wait till coffee?”
Yohan shook his head with solemn conviction. “Cartoons fuel creativity.”
Sunghoon snorted. “Your bedtime documentaries are paying off.” He sat up, duvet after all staying mercifully in place, and hauled both kids into his lap, pressing kisses to disheveled hair.
His eyes slid to you, warm, just a hint of mischief. “What do you say we make pancakes? Mommy and I can supervise from the couch.”
“With syrup rivers!” Haneul insisted.
“sprinkles too,” Yohan added.
“Deal,” you said, laughter bubbling. You squeezed their ankles affectionately. “But maybe let Mommy find pants first?”
They scampered off, shouting about mixing bowls. You sagged back, exhaling a near-hysterical giggle while Sunghoon tipped his forehead to yours.
“Well,” he murmured, “that escalated quickly.”
You smacked his chest lightly. “You know they’ll brag about this for years.”
“Probably.” He threaded fingers through yours. “Worth it.”
Your smile softened. “Yeah, worth it.”
Down the hall cupboards slammed, utensils clanged, and a shriek informed you a measuring cup had become airborne.
You swung your legs over the edge, tee skimming thighs, and stood. Sunghoon caught your wrist, pressing a tender kiss to the inside.
“Round two tonight,” he teased, voice low. “Kid curfew enforced.”
Heat curled in your belly even as you rolled eyes. “We’ll see if Chef Daddy survives breakfast first.”
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ WORD COUNT: 16.3k
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ PAIRING: riize's jung sungchan x female!reader
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ TAGS & WARNINGS: f1!au, teammate's sister!au, strangers to lovers!au, straight up fluff
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ SYNOPSIS: incoming f1 rookie jung sungchan is focused only on one thing: get through his first season without losing his seat by the end of it. ferrari's taken a big chance on a rookie this year, and he's not about to mess that up. on the other hand, your job is to keep your brother in the good graces of fans and media and draw all attention to your brother.. . and not yourself.
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ NOTES: the race order in this follows the 2025 calendar & there is no intentional similarities to any real-life racing events/results/incidents. this is in an ideal world, where ferrari has a good car and a competent team. we can only dream. i have a lot more planned for this couple, but wanted to get a fic out for the bday boy. watch this space!!!
happy birthday to our amazing and talented jung sungchan<3 i love you my jinsu!
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 01 - AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX
You're doing your best at keeping your face neutral as you watch executives, managers and staff buzz around you at the very edge of the garage. The phone in your tight grip sounds out the 7th ring and you grow more impatient as it continues on.
Finally, the line clicks.
"Mark, where the fuck are you?" you snap into the phone abruptly.
On the other side of the line, Mark lets out this deep, resigned sigh that has steam coming out of your ears, "Sis, chill. I'm coming back now."
You hear a shrill, high-pitched laugh in the background of the call and a whiny voice calling for your brother and you want to choke yourself out on the spot. You now know exactly where he is but you decide you'll give him the opportunity to lie to you.
"You better not be at the fuck ass Williams garage, I swear," you seethe into the phone, "40 minutes before lights out and you're not even at your own garage."
Your profanity catches the attention of the team principal walking pasts you, who shoots you an exasperated look, "Where is Mark?"
Letting out a nervous and awkward chuckle, you point to your phone, "He's coming. He's coming"
Fred just nods and makes a hurry up gesture with his hands as you bring the speaker back to your ear. You catch the tail end of Mark's rant where's he's calling you "-such a fucking bore."
"Just get here on that dumb little scooter of yours, now," your tone leaves no room for argument as you hang up and shoot Fred and the engineers a thumbs up as they look around in confusion.
Anyone would be confused if their driver suddenly went AWOL 40 minutes before the first race of the season and they're all looking at you because unfortunately, it is your job to ensure Mark is where he needs to be at all times. You didn't think telling him to be at his own team's garage before a race would be part of it though- let alone the first race of the new season.
You've always known that your brother, the social butterfly, likes to wander. And if you don't know where he is, he's probably somewhere gallivanting with Williams driver Lee Haechan. You caught some of it at the tail end of the previous season when you began feeling out your role and getting the low down from your mom who has since handed the job over to you after you graduated the summer before.
Officially, you're Mark's manager, but you're more like his manager, publicist, personal assistant, therapist, and babysitter rolled into one. Starting this season, your job is to make sure that Mark's only worry is getting into that car and driving well, which means that everything else falls on you and your stress level is at an all time high 100% of the time.
No wonder your mom had to take an early retirement.
You honestly, truly, genuinely had no idea how much work went into managing an F1 driver and you could have all the undergrad and masters degrees in communications in the world and you'd still have no idea how your mother endured it since Mark's younger karting days.
You zone out against the wall for what feels like forever, until you hear your brother's calls into the garage as he zooms in through the front on that scooter that actually makes him look quite stupid, but it gets him places faster than his feet.
"I'm here, someone tell Y/N to chill," Mark chortles and you resist the urge to throw the brick of a phone in your hand straight at his face.
"I'm gonna go to hospitality then," you breathe out deeply to calm yourself, knowing you were resolved from duties for the next hour and a half while he zooms around the track. You peer out the garage door and see it's still raining as it had been all morning and afternoon, "Good luck, Markie. Be safe out there."
Though you're residually annoyed at your brother for making you stress, the nerves you have before each race finally begin to seep in between your bones to replace that feeling. It's not even a welcome substitution, but it's a familiar feeling having watched Mark race for the better part of your life.
He reaches over to ruffle the top of your head and shoots you a gentle smile before nodding his head in the direction of the door to shoo you away.
Over the years, it's grown easier to watch Mark race, but that feeling will never go away- the one where your stomach sinks into a pit every time a competitor gets near him, the one where you hold your breath every time he dives into an overtake on a dangerous corner, the one that explodes into a ball of flames on those rare occasions he crashes and you have to find out if he's okay alongside the world. This is your first year as part of Mark's team, and with that, you know you have to travel to every race weekend with him. Before, you could only manage to get to the weekends that fit around your school schedule and exams, meaning you only had to deal with those emotions a handful of times per season, plus the occasional broadcasts you would catch if it was in the right time zone. Now, it's a new challenge of making it through every weekend without ripping all of your hair out in anxiety.
Your mind is all occupied and in tatters that you don't even register it completely when you bump into a figure and nearly trip over your own feet. A set of strong hands catch you at your shoulders to steady you, "Woah, careful."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking," the hallway out of the garage is narrow and you should have been looking to make way for whoever was coming.
When you finally look up, you're face-to-face with a visage you've only seen on social media posts recently, "No worries- wait, you look familiar," his eyes drop down to the pass around your neck- an all-access Ferrari pass- "Do you work for Ferrari?"
"Y/N Lee, Mark's sister and manager," you introduce yourself calmly.
"Ah, right. I'm Sungchan. Sungchan Jung," he bares his teeth in a charming smile as he fiddles with the fireproof suit pooling around his waist. Ferrari's newest driver, and a rookie at that, stands in front of you all wide-eyed and fidgeting. He's probably nervous for his first F1 race under the emblem, having only raced a couple times in the previous season as a reserve for Haas.
You laugh at him, "I know who you are. But nice to finally meet you. You'll see me around a lot this season, but probably rarely in as calm a state as right now."
Sungchan chuckles with you, "Does your version of calm involve you walking into people all dissociated?"
"My only advice to you is be nice to your manager and don't make them pull their hair our trying to get you to where you need to be," you tut at him before looking back at the garage and realising, "Which is probably exactly what you're doing. Get in there, Jung! Good luck for the race."
Sungchan tugs his lips into an appreciative smile as he ruffles the hair out of his face, "It's nice to meet you, Y/N Lee."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 02 - CHINESE GRAND PRIX
You're not that familiar with the Shanghai Grand Prix grounds, having only visited it the one time in Mark's 2nd season. It's the first year in 5 years that the track returned to the calendar, so the crowd is pumping with excitement and your brother nervous in his motor home.
For most tracks, drivers could do it with their eyes closed, driving on feeling and memory built up over the years. It's comforting to know that a majority of the other drivers on the grid were also fairly recent racers with limited experience on the track.
Although the practices went okay and he was starting on the grid at P2, you could read it in his face that he was unsettled as he went through his breathing exercises in the chair. His coach had recommended him to meditate before races to keep his head clear and get his head in the game and he's followed that advice religiously ever since.
"Markie, what's wrong?" you call out softly to him.
His head lifts up to meet your gaze, "It might rain during the race. It was such a shit show with the rain last week and if I can't see anything out my visor, it's gonna be a mess again."
You know your brother was having a hard time grappling with the P3 finish after starting in pole in the first race of the season. He was coming off a driver's championship the previous season, so everyone was expecting him to keep the momentum going and win right off the bat.
"It's only the second race, Mark. The season's long, so don't get in your head about it so early on," you try to comfort him, "Plus, every driver will experience the same weather as you on the track. You just have to trust in your team, okay?"
"Speaking of team, I can't believe Sungchan is starting in P5 today," Mark clapped his hands together as the thought came to him, "Maybe we can fight for a constructor's championship this year."
The rookie already impressed the team and the public with a points finish in Australia, securing P7. Last season, Mark had nearly single-handedly led Ferrari to 3rd in the constructor's championship, but his lack of a consistent teammate had meant they couldn't get any closer to the top. There was a reason that there was a new driver in the second seat and you, along with everyone else, were hoping that he could take Ferrari to that next level again.
"I bumped into him just before the race last weekend. He seems nice," you comment casually, happy to distract your brother from his nerves, "Where did he come from? Feels like he just came out of nowhere."
"As if you followed last season diligently," Mark teases, "But he's a Ferrari junior, raced a few times as a sub last season too . He's got a hell of a lot of potential though, but I hope he doesn't get on my ass too much."
You shrug, "Some competition is nice."
"He's the youngest person on the Ferrari team right now- other than you. You guys should be friends," Mark says, "You'll see him a lot this year."
"Ha, is this also your way of saying I don't have friends here?" you tease him.
Mark rolls his eyes, "Cause you don't."
"I'm friends with Eunseok's girlfriend," you protest, offended.
"And she's never ever in the paddock because she's a doctor," Mark counters, "All I'm saying is that it's nice to have a friend on the team."
You decide to shelve his comments in the deep section of your brain reserved for things that weren't about your brother and your job as you check your watch, "It's time to go to the car now. You good?"
Mark flattens his lips together, "Always ready. Going up to hospitality? Or watching from the garage today?"
"Depends how in the way I feel in the garage today," you shrug and follow him out of his motor home. He greets the staff members that litter the path and makes small conversations with a few engineers that briefly join your walk before breaking away.
Behind him, you're tapping furiously at your phone to ensure you had absolutely everything mapped out and booked in for his post-race duties.
"Ever keep your eyes up?" Sungchan's voice isn't so familiar to you yet that you can recognise him without looking. You don't stop in your tracks as you look up and see him peering down at you.
"Mark's a busy guy, which unfortunately makes me a busy woman," you mutter, finalising something on the calendar you share with Mark before pocketing your phone, "How are you feeling for the race? Great job in qualifying."
"Yeah, I'm really happy with where I'm starting. It's gonna be tricky defending my spot from the rest of the grid but I'm excited," the expression on his face is endearing and full of passion.
"Good luck," you tell him sincerely, "I'll be watching from the garage today and cheering you on!"
Sungchan's face twists in surprise at your words, "You will?"
You give him a confused look, "You're my brother's teammate and the team would love a constructor's championship this year."
Sungchan makes an 'ah' face, "Yeah, of course. Thanks Y/N."
"Why do you look so surprised?"
He looks hesitant to answer you as his mouth opens, then closes, before it opens again, "I'm not used to people cheering for me. That's all. See ya later, Y/N."
Jung Sungchan disappears behind your brother in a wall of race engineers and tyres stacked up to the roof. You're confused by his comment briefly before your mind transports itself back to a time between the end of the last season and the start of this one when your brother had told you about his new Ferrari teammate.
Mark had been frowning at his phone, reading the comments of the post announcing Sungchan's F1 contract. There were masses of hate comments left by strangers on the internet who were so angry about this young adult getting the Ferrari seat over their favourite driver and that conversation with Mark had left such a sour taste in your mouth and a lot of sympathy for his teammate you hadn't yet met.
In a blink of an eye, you're pressed against a wall of the garage, peering up at the screens displaying the feed of the race. Evidently, you couldn't find a seat in the area, but you were too distracted by your own thoughts to trust yourself to put one foot in front of the other.
Mark was doing well as you expected. He had managed to undercut the race leader with a well-timed pit-stop and even managed to give his teammate a good tow in the process of waiting out the pitstops in front of him. The guests and staff around you were all buzzing with excitement at the prospect of the first Ferrari win of the season, but somewhere along the way when Mark had a comfortable lead, your gaze had started focusing on the letters 'JUN' on the side of the feed.
He had managed to keep his position at P5 50 laps into the 56 lap race, and he was getting closer and closer to the car ahead. With Mark seemingly securing his victory already with a 9 second gap, the garage had then started to talk about the rookie and his prospect of a higher points finish.
Sungchan was very nearly in DRS range to the car in front of him and with every turn before the detection zones, everyone held their breaths. Your routine was to tune into Mark's feed on your phone to get all the info from his team radio and the pit-wall in case there was something you'd like for him to address in his post-race interviews, but your fingers had moved by themselves to switch the feed to Sungchan's.
"Give it everything, Sungchan," his race engineer had instructed softly as he began lap 52, "Your tires will hold out until the end. Push, please."
His voice was shaky as his radio came in, "Copy."
"1.046 to Song."
In every other situation, you'd feel bad for Eunseok. You were almost friends through his sweet girlfriend, but Sungchan was your brother's teammate and you were practically a Ferrari employee. Of course you were going to cheer for the rookie.
Sungchan hadn't managed to close the gap before the first DRS detection zone, but going down the first straight, it seemed like he had just put his foot to the ground and nudged his car right up to Eunseok's. You couldn't breathe as he sent the cars full throttle into turns 14 and 15, knowing he needed to get within a second of Eunseok before turn 16.
The roar of the garage was electric the exact second that DRS was activated and Sungchan flew past the Mercedes in a handful of seconds. You let out a sigh of relief as the garage burst into applause.
In your lone earbud, Sungchan's race engineer comes in proudly, "P4. Well done, Sungchan. Keep it up and defend, okay?"
"Jung's defying all expectations," someone beside you murmurs, "I doubted him when they signed the contract, but he's proving everyone wrong."
The person they were accompanying replies something in favour of the rookie, but his words from earlier echoes back to you- I'm not used to people cheering for me.
It reminds you of Mark's early racing days when winning or getting on the podium at every race wasn't the norm. It took a lot of hard work for Mark to get on the top, but there was a point he was contemplating on giving up, but your parents had sat him down and asked him whether that would be what he truly wanted. Their support for him instead of pushing him into a more conventional and less expensive path was enough for him to keep trying, at least just for that moment. From then, Mark never looked back.
Sungchan had this expression of uncertainty when you spoke to him earlier. Maybe all he needed was someone to truly believe in him.
꒰🏎️꒱
BREAK BETWEEN ROUND 02 and 03
It certainly felt pointless to you to fly halfway across the globe from China to Italy when the next race in a week and a half was in Japan, but wherever Mark went, you followed. It's not your first time in Maranello, sure, but you've actually never been allowed to spend a lot of time at Ferrari HQ when you were just Mark's sister and not his employee.
Still, there's not much for you to do at the headquarters other than twiddle your thumbs and gaze upon the endless trophies of the past they had displayed. In the past 2 days that Mark has been doing stuff with the team, you've read pretty much every plaque describing all the moments immortalised on the canvases lining the walls. You already knew a lot about Ferrari history from dining room table conversations with your family, but now, you're definitely an expert.
The staff have been exceedingly nice over the past couple of days, always asking if you wanted a drink or a driver to take you around town, but you'd mostly just declined in your best Italian and scrolled your social media in the corner of this boujee lounge dedicated for their drivers.
You don't actually even know what Mark's doing with the team- you haven't bothered to learn all the nitty-gritty technical things related to the car and driving, saving your brain expenditure on publicity training tips to impart on your brother and organisational skills instead. It was certainly no easy task trying to communicate to all the brands that sponsored your brother and all the people reaching out to have him do this, that and the other, all while making sure his calendar was prioritised for his races and F1 commitments first.
Sure, a GQ photoshoot and spread would be good for his fame, but if Ferrari needed him at Maranello, then they'd either have to come to Mark themselves or find another driver.
"Hi Y/N," Sungchan waves at you in greeting as he enters the lounge. He's throwing back an energy drink down his throat as he takes the sofa across from you, "Still waiting for Mark?"
"I don't know when he'll be finished again. I probably should have just stayed in the hotel," you nod solemnly.
"Why did you come to Italy? You could've gone back home in your break or travelled a bit," Sungchan asks you curiously.
You shrug, "I'm Mark's employee now so I guess I have to follow him. Canada's too far for only a week's stay and Monaco is boring without Mark there. I just moved to Monaco so I don't really have that many friends there yet."
Sungchan grins, "I'm moving to Monaco soon actually. Right of passage for F1 drivers, I guess."
"Oh, you don't live there yet? Where do you live?"
He gestures out the window with his hand, "I moved here when I was 15. I've been a development driver that long. My mum came with me at first, but she went back to Korea when I turned 20."
"Oh that's so cool- do you speak Italian?" you quiz him.
"Sì, certo," Sungchan blurts proudly, "It's definitely not native level but I try my best."
"That's very impressive," you compliment, "I only know how to say yes, no and where's the toilet in Italian. It's actually only my fourth time in the country."
Sungchan looks surprised, "Really? But Mark's been a Ferrari driver for years and years."
"I've been busy with school; Canada is so far from the rest of the world. I worked whenever I was off school too," you explain to him, "My whole family came to Maranello though when Mark signed his rookie contract with the team and I came to Monza and Imola a couple years back."
"Does that mean you haven't seen much of the town?" there's a glint in his eyes as you shake your head, "Do you want a tour from a local? I'm free the rest of today."
For a moment you contemplate whether it's ethical to leave your boss hanging, but then you remember he's also your silly older brother. He definitely wouldn't mind if you ran away with Sungchan for an afternoon- he didn't even want you to come to Maranello with him to be honest.
"Would Mark mind?" Sungchan can see the gears turning in your head.
"Nah, he doesn't have time to show me around himself anyway. Are you sure though?" Sungchan holds an arm out that you grab to tug yourself up to your feet.
He points out the window, "It's a gorgeous spring day. Let's make the most of it!"
You're not sure why, but you don't hesitate to follow Sungchan out of the room and to wherever he wanted to take you. After shooting Mark a quick text, you catch up to the heels of the tall driver.
He bows and say thank you and goodbye to every staff member you come across out of the building and they all look at him with such fondness and adoration that you start to understand why they might possibly choose a rookie driver who's grown up with the team over a egotistical, over-cocky external recruit.
The Ferrari HQ actually has valet, so Sungchan walks up to the desk and greets the staff there like they're old friends before they disappear into a door behind the desk.
"Ah, of course you have a car here; you live here," you hum beside him as he leans against the glass at the front of the building.
"Mhm, they gifted it to me when I made my F1 debut last year. I have to ship it to Monaco soon, though," he cocks his head in realisation, "Or drive it 5 hours over the border. Maybe a road trip would be fun, but it's not like the car would carry anything anyway."
As soon as he says that, a sleek and expensive looking sports car with the prancing horse logo pulls up into the front. The valet steps out and hands the key over to your companion, who gestures for you to get inside. Your brother has his fair share of flashy cars, so it's not anything new to you, but you don't deny it's still cool.
Sungchan opens the passenger side door and you watch it swing up instead of out. You give him an appreciative smile before he jogs around to get behind the wheel.
"I wish I could compliment you on this car, but I don't know much about them," you say sheepishly, "I'm definitely eager to learn more as I go through the season."
He's started driving already without telling you where you were going, but you somehow find it in yourself to trust him with your life despite only having met him a handful of times.
"How come you ended up working with your brother then?" he asks.
"I have an undergrad and masters in communications, so being a PR person or manager was the natural route. My mum has been doing it for Mark for forever and she wanted to retire from it, so it kind of felt natural for me to step into her role out of college," you explain, "I know, I know- I'm a nepo baby."
Sungchan shrugs, "Mark's lucky to have family at each race then no matter what. If I was him, I'd hire my sister who's literally educated in that area with no doubt. That's definitely something I'd consider but my parents and my older brother are content in their other careers."
"I'm assuming you have a manager, but I haven't met them yet. Do you get on well?"
A soft smile adorns his face, "Yeah, Changmin's like my second dad. He's been with me for a while too, but he has a few other racers in his management. Still, he's incredible, seriously. I'd be so lost without him."
"I wish Mark would appreciate me like that. Instead, all he does is stress me out by running away with Haechan before races," you snort, "Just kidding, I know he's grateful- or he should be."
Maranello isn't that big of a place so your conversation comes to a halt after a few more minutes of Sungchan finding out more about your family and your role with Mark. He parks up on the side of the street in front of a row of shops and restaurants.
"I forgot to ask if you were hungry, actually," Sungchan looks sheepish as his two hands grip the steering wheel as he turns the car off.
You giggle at his expression, "I'm always down for Italian food- and authentic Italian food this time."
His grin is dazzling as he reaches for the car door and tells you to wait. You obey, despite not quite realising why he requested that in the split-second it took for him to reach your side of the car and open your door. Sungchan offers out a hand to help you up, knowing how difficult it was to get out of the sports car sometimes without looking silly.
"You're such a gentleman, Sungchan. Your mother's raised you well- or your past girlfriends," you tease him lightly.
He lets out a playful scoff as he denies, "Nah, I've never even had a girlfriend. Was too busy racing in my teens and I was homeschooled when I came to Italy so I didn't exactly know many Italian girls to fall at my feet. But yeah, my parents have drilled it in me and my brother to treat people well."
"Hey, you're an F1 driver now," you nudge him playfully as you follow him to an entrance of a restaurant with a brick facade, "Your life is about to be yachts, models, partying and celebrities. You're the celebrity."
He scrunches up his face adorably, "I don't know about that one, actually. Doesn't seem like the lifestyle for me."
Every moment passing with Sungchan just shows you how good of a person he seems to be. Mark may be right in trying to get the two of you to be friends.
The restaurant he takes you to is small beyond the exterior, but it has a homely vibe with the colourful, but wearing tablecloths adorning the surfaces and the soft music crooning over the speakers. Sungchan speaks in hushed, fluent Italian to the server who smiles at him like he knows him- which every person in the town probably does.
The server leads you to a table in the far corner, but it's still a good spot to not make you feel cramped. It's just cozy and just right.
Sungchan translates carefully what the server harps off about the restaurant and when they leave for you to decide, you eye the menu in hesitation. There's not a lick of English on it, which you don't expect, but you didn't buy any data to load Google Translate as you thought you'd be scrounging off hotel and HQ wifi the whole time.
"I'll go through the menu with you," Sungchan offers softly when he sees your reluctant face and plucks the laminated sheet out of your hand, "Are you allergic to anything?"
"Nope," you murmur. You're in awe of his kindness, truly. He's currently sat across the square table from you, but he picks up his chair and moves perpendicular to be able to nestle in beside you. He leaves behind his own menu to lean over and peer at your own.
You don't even realise you've frozen until he's softly saying your name, "Y/N?"
"Oh, yeah- sorry!" your cheeks flush pink after being caught out, but Sungchan doesn't take notice as he points to the starters.
Diligently, he translates every dish and the descriptions, giving his own opinions and watching your face react to each item. From his recommendation, the two of you decide on your food and he calls over the server to take your order. You weren't a big drinker and wine wasn't exactly up your alley, so you settled for soft drinks instead.
When Sungchan finishes listing the familiar food items, the server's eyes flash towards you before he says something to Sungchan. The driver, who was still sat beside you, breaks out into little giggles as you notice the tips of his ears start turning red while he curtly responds.
"What did he say to you?" you ask curiously, taking a sip from the water the server had supplied when you sat down.
Sungchan purses his lips and opens them, before he hesitates and closes them again for a second, "He just made a funny joke. It's in Italian so hard to translate."
You eye him warily, "Hm, okay."
He asks you a question to distract you into a tangent about your degree until the food comes. Unsurprisingly, it's the best Italian you've ever had and the server, despite his little English, manages to dedicate such great customer service to you that you're practically a silence away from writing poetry in their TripAdvisor reviews.
Sungchan happily details to you his life- how he got into racing, his highs and his lows in his career and his biggest dreams. The way he babbles between fork-fulls of pasta is utterly endearing that you have to stop yourself from reaching over the table and squeezing his cheeks. Still, you keep composure as he talks about his racing heroes.
When the food winds down and you're stuffed to the brim, finished off by a good helping of tiramisu, Sungchan is already behind you, ready with your jacket to slide over your arms.
"We haven't paid yet, though?" you frown at him.
The server, carrying a tray of drinks to another table, passes you at this moment, "Mr Sungchan paid. Che bella coppia! Buona serata!"
You look over at Sungchan who waves a dismissive hand at you and leads you out of the restaurant and to the car with a goodbye to the staff.
"What did he say at the end? I'm guessing he said have a good evening and bella means beautiful right?" you investigate him. The smile on the server's face was so sincere; you wished you understood what he said.
"He said what a beautiful couple," Sungchan chews the inside of his mouth bashfully, "I told him earlier that we weren't a couple, but he's just teasing."
You realise suddenly, "Ah, that must be what made you so red earlier, haha. It's fine- he's a lovely man and it's an amazing restaurant."
You both clamber into your respective sides of the car as Sungchan displays a solemn expression, "I just realised that was probably my last time there for a while since I'm moving."
"You act like the HQ for the team you drive for isn't here," you tease him, "Maybe you'll just have to learn to cook like them!"
Sungchan chortles, "As if! You can be my taste-tester in Monaco then. You'll regret giving me that idea."
You join his hearty, melodious laughs, "Okay, I'll see you in Monaco for that."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 03 - JAPANESE GRAND PRIX
You were having your first difficult weekend dealing with your brother. It was so hard, in fact, that you didn't even join him for dinner after qualifying day.
A spun out Alpine during his final Q3 flying lap meant that he only qualified 6th and he certainly felt some way about it, making his feelings known to the press. Your brother isn't usually so hot-headed and irrational when it came to these things, but sometimes, things just build up and his fuse blows.
The Alpine had been driving erratically all weekend, seemingly unable to properly control the car, and it was just Mark's luck that the bright livery managed to crash into the championship leader's own red vehicle. But still, Mark should've known to keep mum- it was still early in the season anyway. You don't win championships on round 3.
But the damage was done and he had run his mouth and you were dealing with all these requests for comments from all these papers, while simultaneously trying to keep up with the comments about your brother on social media. It's tricky because you know people's opinion changes up in a snap of your fingers and a lot of people do accept that motorsports gets intense and things said in the heat of the moment both during and after a race should be taken with a pinch of salt, but at the same time, Mark has a reputation to uphold and sponsors to keep happy.
Not only was Mark subject to a hefty fine for his language over the radio and in the post-session interviews, he was also being subjected to the wrath of his little sister who's work was cut out for her.
"I said I'm sorry," Mark pleas beside you as you walk through the paddock and over to garage on race day. He stops a few times to take photos with kids and sign some caps and shirts, but he has to scuttle to keep up with your marching pace.
"You should've kept your mouth shut," you grumble, trying to keep a neutral expression for the eyes you know are watching you, "And you ruined Sungchan's qualifying too."
Mark pauses at the comment and furrows his eyebrows together, "Sungchan? Since when do you care where he qualifies?"
Mark didn't exactly crash in the altercation with the Alpine, but he was so in his head and also driving erratically that he had accidentally impeded his own teammate on the track who was on his own flying lap. Thankfully, the stewards considered the situation that happened just seconds beforehand and let him off with a warning, but Sungchan had only managed 8th in the end.
"We're friends," you snap, "Weren't you the one that suggested that?"
"Jeez, I'm just gonna stop talking," Mark sighs defeatedly at your tone.
"That would've been useful yesterday," you mutter under your breath. Your older brother shoots you an exasperated look, but you shoo him away to where he needed to go as you reached the Ferrari area.
You situate yourself in the majorly empty garage with most personnel headed to the team meeting before the race. You wave and greet the few members of staff loitering about, but for the most part, you busy yourself with the emails piling up in your inbox.
Time passes around you in the form of mechanics and engineers passing in and out like one of those movie montages and you don't know how long it's been until a hand taps you on your head to call your attention.
"No way," your mouth drops when you see your visitor, "I didn't know you were coming."
Eunseok's girlfriend returns your grin as you sweep her up in a hug. It's been a while since you've seen her- not since the season started even!
She laughs melodiously, "I didn't think I was able to come either, but I was able to swap my shift last minute so I could attend race day. Japan's not too far anyway. How've you been- do you wanna pop out and get lunch at one of the stands?"
Mark's gonna be occupied in the meeting for a good while, so you agree and link arms with your first friend you met through F1.
"What's it like doing the whole travelling to every race thing? And officially working for your brother?" she asks you. In the corner of your eyes, you spot a few people stop and snap a pic of the two of you as you peruse the paddock for food.
"It's already exhausting travelling and this is only race 3 of 24," you sigh, "And Mark pissed me off bad yesterday. Did you see what he said to the press?"
She giggles in guilt, "I did see the buzz on social media, yeah. It's okay; it happens. Remember when Eunseok crashed with Namjoon last year?"
You click your tongue, "Maybe I should get Mark his own separate PR manager? I can just do everything else as his general manager."
"Nah, he'll remember now for every time he thinks about running his mouth to the media," she reassures you, "Has the team been treating you well?"
"Duh! They're all lovely even though I'm one of the youngest," you gush, "They're don't boss me around like some might do to their driver's PA. I don't know if maybe it's cause I'm his sister too, but they've been good."
"Everyone would love you no matter what," she dismisses.
You became friends with Eunseok's girlfriend early in the previous season at a race you were both fortunate enough to attend. She'd gotten lost trying to find her way back to Mercedes' area in Saudi Arabia and you had asked if she was okay, since she looked on the verge of tears. You exchanged social media accounts and got lunch in the city centre the Friday before the Melbourne GP and the rest was history.
You didn't make it to every race of the last season as you finished up your final year of university and she was a newly qualified doctor, so it was hard to see each other often, but you kept in touch.
You both decide on a lounge set up in the paddock and take a seat away from the glass front. You order pretty quickly and the server promises to return with your food as quickly as possible.
"You know what though?" she begins with a small, tight frown, "It's gonna be hard for you to date now you have to travel so much. You're never gonna be in one place at one time."
"Psh, I'm not even thinking about dating!" your voice raises in pitch and volume in defence, "Plus, you and Eunseok make it work."
Her face contorts into this kind of pained expression, "We do, but it's hard. But we've been together a long time, so it's been a more gradual shift to the full on F1 calendar and career. I guess you should just date someone who works and travels with an F1 team. Do you want me to get Eunseok to ask around who's single?"
You bat at her arm, "I'm not trying to date, seriously. I'm busy enough as it is trying to adjust to being Mark's manager!"
"Text me when you change your mind," she rolls her eyes playfully, "Do you wanna watch the race together? Or do you have to be at the Ferrari garage?"
"I'm not actually sure on the etiquette on that, but I should probably be at Ferrari to make sure I can drag Mark away quickly with my hand covering his mouth in case he starts getting mouthy again," you sigh in annoyance, "We can catch the next race together, whenever you'll make it next."
"I'll be in Miami," she confirms happily, "We can party it up on Jungkook's boat after!"
"You mean his mega-yacht?" you snort. The Mercedes legend has a reputation for hosting the best and wildest parties on his yacht, which you were yet to experience. However, he did invite your brother once to have dinner on the yacht, catered by a Michelin-starred chef, which he graciously dragged you to despite you not knowing anyone on that vessel.
"It's mammoth," she emphasises, "Oh, I'm excited!"
When you finish eating, you drop her off to Mercedes' garage and elbow your way through the buzzing crowd to get back to Ferrari. It was less than hour before the race now, so it was getting busy both around the paddock and in the garage. You could see both Mark and Sungchan on their respective sides, floating between their car and the engineering station.
They're close to sending the car out on the grid for the reconnaissance laps, so the drivers stand out from their team in their matching fireproofs. Mark gives you a rushed, but enthusiastic wave as you settle yourself if your usual corner of the garage and you give him two thumbs up to wish him luck. Sungchan, on the other hand, spots you a few minutes later and surprises you by jogging on over to you.
You haven't spoken to him since he dropped you back off at your hotel in Maranello, but you did follow each other on Instagram a few days ago, which was instigated by him. It's been a busy weekend, so other than waving at you in passing during media day, FP sessions and before qualifying, there had been no instances of greeting each other properly.
"Hi Sungchan," you grin as he bounds on over to you, "Good luck today."
"Thanks Y/N. Haven't had the chance to say hi all weekend," he runs a free hand through his soft locks as he grips his balaclava tight in the other.
"It's been busy," you agree, "But you'll do great out there. I know Mark made it hard for you yesterday, though."
Sungchan looks over his shoulder briefly, watching Mark preside over his engineers with hands on his hips, but he just shrugs, "Part of racing and he didn't mean to. Obviously, he didn't know it was me and I would have been way less composed after a collision."
As a racer, Sungchan's been involved in more collisions, accidents and incidents than he would've liked to admit- it was part of the sport. Over the years, he's learned how to deal with them and how to pick himself up after and keep going even when it hurt or he felt guilty.
But it was his rookie season in the top flight and despite the fact that he knows it's only a matter of time before his first mistake, he's trying his best to hold it off as long as possible.
You reach out to touch his arm and he's thankful his layers are so thick that you don't feel him tense up under your grip, "You're gonna do great, Sungchan," you repeat.
His eyes, large, glossy and unreadable, peer down at you as his lips tug up at the corners, "Forza Ferrari, then. Enjoy the race. See you later?"
You don't know what later means; it could mean dinner or it could mean 4 days later in Bahrain, but you nod and send him away, in a manner and motion that you don't even do to your brother. You don't know how to describe your friendship with Sungchan, but he's quickly becoming an important character in your life, which scares you a little.
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 05 - SAUDI ARABIA GRAND PRIX
Whenever Mark has a difficult race, he has a routine. He doesn't have these often, thankfully, but you've sussed him out by now.
He finishes the race and thanks his engineers and team- they work so hard despite everything. He composes himself in the garage and accepts he has to do his media duties and he fibs and reassures the world that he's okay and promises to come back stronger the next weekend.
It must be hard to be a previous world champion- everyone expects you to do it again and again no matter how much the world changes around you from the drivers to the cars to the rulebooks to the tracks to the tyres and to the officials.
You know that Mark carries himself with grace through the team meetings after hard races, but then you also know that he holes up in his hotel, orders a bunch of food and goes MIA for that night once he finishes all his obligations. He doesn't need or want anyone to comfort him; he just needs some space and time.
He doesn't like it when someone rubs his back and tells him something was not his fault when it was. He doesn't like it when he's coo'd false promises and he hates it even more when people look at him in pity.
So, you don't exactly know what to do when Sungchan DNF's in his 5th F1 race in his rookie season after a Haas dives into the side of his car and takes out his wings.
You've been tuned in to his feed the past few laps and the heartbreak in his voice was evident when he finally cut through the silence.
"I'm sorry, fuck. I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened," his voice isn't altogether clear over the radio, but even still, you could hear the pain.
His engineer buzzes in, "Are you okay, Sungchan?"
"Yeah, yeah. Fuck. I'm sorry."
"You're okay, that's all that matters. We're bringing the car back, just stay there. Virtual safety car is up," his engineer tells him.
It takes at least 5 laps for the safety car period to end and what felt like a lifetime before the car and the driver arrived back at the garage. You couldn't see much of the car by way of every mechanic immediately pouncing on it for repair, but Sungchan loomed over all figures in the room.
He stayed by his team principal and race engineer's side for a while, speaking in hushed tones with eyebrows tugged together. His race suit was gathering at his waist and he was nervously running his hands through his hair.
To divert your attention, you switch back to Mark's race. From P6, he had managed to get himself up to P3 by lap 30 and was less than 2 seconds behind the silver medal position. The Ferrari garage was still locked in, vying for another win for their top driver, so the atmosphere hadn't changed too much.
You had focused so much of your attention on the screen ahead of you, that you didn't even notice when Sungchan came to your side until he taps the plastic of your red over-ear headphones.
"Sungchan, hey," you slip the device off your head, "Are you okay?"
His lips form into a pout, "It fucking sucks. Did you see it?"
You don't nod, but instead give him a tight smile, "It wasn't your fault."
"I could've done more to avoid it. Swerved, or something," he sighs dejectedly, "They're sending me to the media centre. I know Mark's still racing, but can you walk with me? I don't have anyone here with me. Changmin's away this weekend and I don't know what to fucking do-"
"Hey, hey, hey," you reach out to steady him and grab at his forearm, "I'm here with you. Don't worry. I'll come with you."
Sungchan meets your eyes properly and his glassy orbs display his every emotion. He lets out this deep, dreadful sigh from the centre of his chest as he chews at his lips and nods, "Thanks, Y/N. Can you wait here? I'm just gonna get changed out of this."
He comes back a few minutes later from his driver's room in the team shirt and matching cap, still not looking all the settled. You keep up with his pace all the way to the media centre, which isn't hard because he's dragging his feet to prolong the journey instead of his usual large strides with his long, long legs.
"What should I say to them?" he murmurs under his breath as the building comes into view. The paddock isn't busy as the race is still ongoing so there's no one coming up to him for any random reason, "I mean, I know what to say but like- Ugh, this is the worst."
You swallow hard and turn your brain onto PR manager mode, "Just try and look calm, okay? Just tell them it was a tricky situation, but that's what happens in racing. Just tell them you'll come back stronger next time. They just wanna make sure you're okay too."
Sungchan's lips are seconds away from bleeding by the way he's tugging at them with his teeth and even now, he's avoiding any eye contact with you or anybody else you pass for that matter. Just as you reach the building, you pause in your tracks to try give him a pep talk.
"Sungchan I know it sucked, but you're gonna be okay, yeah? You're an amazing, amazing driver and this was just a small mistake and accident that wasn't even your fault for the most part," you attempt to reassure him, "You're not gonna lose your seat over this and the team adore you and know that this is just something that happens. You've been doing so great the past 4 races and it's so early in the season. You've already proven yourself to the tifosi who love you and the racing world adore you too. It's gonna be okay, Sungchan. I promise."
Sungchan listens to you with an unreadable expression which melts softly as your words come to a close. By the door of the media centre, he unexpectedly pulls you in for a hug.
"Thanks, Y/N," he pulls away before you even react, "I'm so grateful you're here."
"Anytime, Sungchan."
꒰🏎️꒱
BREAK BETWEEN ROUND 05 AND 06
Your brother is eyeing you suspiciously from the couch perpendicular to the one you were sat cris-cross on. He was all squinted stares and furrowed eyebrows too as he periodically looks between the TV and then back at you.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you huff in annoyance as you finally speak up on his 15th head turn, "Just watch the goddamn movie."
Mark decided a few hours ago that he was gonna dedicate the whole day to watching Spider-Man films, but he wasn't watching them in any particular order. You don't really know how it makes sense to watch The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and then Spider-Man: Far From Home and then Spider-Man 3, but whatever makes him happy during the break, you guess.
It's nearing dinner time, which means one thing: Lee Donghyuck is probably around the corner, just himself and his spare key to the apartment ready to devour whatever Mark plans to order in. You're not really sure why they don't live together, but you've already claimed the second room in the apartment so it's too late now.
"You keep smiling at your phone," Mark says observantly, suspiciously, "And you're wearing like, real clothes."
"God forbid your sister is happy," you grumble at his insinuation, "Am I not allowed to smile?"
"Yeah, but, like, you never smile," Mark says this like it's the most obvious thing, "Are you watching funny TikToks? Send them to me!"
Your brother is so unserious, it hurts. No one would think he's a multiple-time F1 champion.
"I'm going out for dinner," you finally tell him, your voice as steady as you can make it.
Mark's interest piques with this as he sits up straight and pauses the film, "What? With who? You don't know anyone in Monte Carlo."
"You're actually horrible. You don't think I can make friends?" you throw the pillow in your lap at him, which he dodges with his quick reflexes.
"Well, yeah. So who?" he presses on.
"It doesn't matter," you whine, regretting even telling him instead of just walking out.
"As your older brother, I'd say that it actually does matter. What if you're meeting a serial killer? Or a stalker? Or an undercover pap or journalist who's gonna infiltrate our family? Someone with bad intentions?" Mark begins to show signs of distress as he stands up and paces back and forth in front of you, "Did you meet them in Monaco? Are they from a rich family? Do they work here? How is this the first I've heard of you meeting someone here?"
Your phone buzzes in the pocket you've hid it in, signifying to you that your company for the evening has stopped driving and is presumably outside. You stand up and collect your bag from the side table, as well as your shoes by the door. You can feel Mark's eyes follow you around the apartment.
"Y/N? Y/N! Where are you going?" Mark calls over in concern. It's kinda fun to wind up your brother like this, but you decide to put him out of his misery.
"I'm going to dinner," you deadpan, unlocking the front door, "Now if you'll excuse me, Sungchan is downstairs."
You shut the door behind you, but not before you hear him exclaim in the most confused tone possible, "Sungchan? My teammate Sungchan?"
Your phone buzzes again when you get in the elevator and you check to see if its from Sungchan, but instead you're faced with capital letters and exclamation marks.
Markie: ARE YOU GUYS DATING?!!!!!!!!!!!
Markie: Y/N WHAT THE FLIPPPPPPPP ANSWER ME
You laugh, shaking your head at your dramatic brother.
Y/N: we're just friends!! you're fun to wind up
Markie: Y/N YOUR CURFEW IS 9:30PM
Y/N: in ur dreams, lol, ur not my mother. i'll be back when i wanna be back
Sungchan is dressed in black from head to toe as he leans against the passenger door on the side of the street. He's watching you exit the building in amusement, his hands in his pocket.
"Hey, Channie," you greet him enthusiastically.
"Your brother says I need to come up after I drop you home," he quirks an eyebrow at you.
"Ha, did he text you?"
Sungchan laughs a little and shakes his head, pointing upwards, "He's watching us."
Horror immediately rushes through your veins as you cock your neck back to see your brother dangling over the balcony with a smirk on his face.
"Mark! Fuck off!" he mirrors the way you flip him off.
"10:30 latest, Jung!" he calls out to your company.
"We're just friends," you shout up at him, "You never gone out for dinner with friends?"
"Not on their first day moving to the city! Why are you the first person he's seeing in Monaco?"
You grumble to Sungchan, "Sorry about him. Should we just leave?"
Sungchan chuckles at your exchange with your brother, moving to open the passenger door for you. It's the same Ferrari you rode in Maranello, so he must have road-tripped it over.
"Bye Mark!" Sungchan bids your brother a goodbye as he jogs around to the driver's side and you can see Mark still watching from the balcony as Sungchan drives you away.
You're still giggling by the first corner and Sungchan eyes you cautiously from his seat, "I know he's your brother, but I don't wanna piss off the first driver on my team. What if he has me kicked off?"
You roll your eyes playfully, "Mark would never do that. He's just joking around."
"I know, I know. Mark's one of the kindest people I've met, but you're still his little sister. The look he gave me when I looked up and realised he was there- oh, chills down my spine!" he exclaimed as he gripped the wheel tighter.
"It's not like we're dating," you state, "I don't know, maybe it's cause I've never really had male friends around him and with our parents so far away, he's trying to take on that protective role."
Sungchan goes quiet, tapping on the steering wheel, "Hm, yeah. I guess."
꒰🏎️꒱
He had previously detailed to you in Maranello that he wasn't exactly a Michelin-started chef, so instead, he took you to a 2 star restaurant whose name you couldn't even begin to pronounce despite the years of French you've taken in school.
Sungchan is sitting across from you, a knife and a fork clutched in his hand tightly.
"Sungchan, I know you said we were gonna go to a pretty fancy restaurant, but I feel severely underdressed," you look down at your pleated trousers and your pink blouse and then at the lady at the table across in a silk dress and gloves.
"Relax, we're cosplaying as mega rich today and they don't dress up that much to go out to dinner," Sungchan tries to reassure you. He's dressed pretty simple too, but not casual enough to have been denied entry at the door.
"Are our wallets cosplaying mega rich too?"
He looks at you pointedly, "Our? I'm paying, of course. And well to be honest, I got a pretty big raise going from reserve slash academy to sitting in the second seat. What else am I gonna splash my money on?"
Your cheeks flush, "If you pay it's gonna feel like a date. We should split."
He smirks subtly and a glint twinkles in his eye, "All the more reason for me to pay then."
Your food comes in small portions, but feels endless in courses. It's interesting to listen to the waiter babble on about the fancy ingredients and the elusive concept, but the dinner is made more special by your company.
Sungchan is simply nice to be with. He has wit- joking about the food and never missing a beat to banter with you- and he has a lot of charm. You're not really sure how he's never had a girlfriend before, but you know through your brother that their career takes up so much of their time and focus. Sungchan's the kind of guy that every girl would have fawned over in school, the kind of colleague all the ladies in an office would talk about and vie for, but he's here, with you, in one of Monaco's upscale restaurants.
Maybe that's saying something about your relationship with him that you haven't yet accepted has changed.
After dinner (where yes, he did end up paying), he drives the two of you down to the port and you walk shoulder to shoulder under the streetlights and between the twinkles of the yacht lights reflecting off the water.
"Have you driven here before?" you look behind you at the road, which was still busy despite the time. Monaco was truly alive in the evening.
"Mhm, it's on the F2 and F3 calendar so I've done it a good few times. It's a really difficult race if you're not in pole, but I enjoy it," Sungchan reminisces, "I won it last year in F2."
"You just had to add that, didn't you?" you tease him by bumping your shoulder against his.
Sungchan chuckles melodiously, "I don't get to say that about many places to many people. And this year will probably taint my memory and feeling of the race, so gotta enjoy it while I can."
"Hey, you should really back yourself more. You're a good driver; you wouldn't be in a Ferrari seat if you weren't. Who knows- you could repeat it again!" you were chant in a motivating tone.
A soft smile decorates Sungchan's face as he sighs happily, "You know, I really appreciated you telling me you were cheering for me in China. Even if you support me because I'm your brother's teammate and you feel like you have to, it was nice of you to support me. It was kind of hard at the start of the season since no one thought I'd be able to perform well or deliver at all, so your support made me really happy."
Your heart swells, "I cheer for you because you deserve it and I believe in you. Even if at the start, it was because of that, it certainly isn't now. You're such a good person, Sungchan- I'll always support you."
He's trying to hide his blush from you as the breeze pushes the two of you along the harbour, "Even if I beat your brother one day?"
"He's already got some championships," you dismiss casually, "I hope I'm there for your first F1 win."
"Might be a while, so don't hold your breath."
"Sungchan! I just said you have to back yourself," you whine at him and punctuate, "Believe. In. Your. Self."
"Okay, fine. I'll win a race soon, just so I know that you'll be there watching," Sungchan rolls his eyes playfully, "I'll dedicate my win to you."
"Ha! As if."
"What, can't I dedicate a win to a friend?" he says the final word with some kind of disdain that you check his face- all scrunched up and cute.
"Why'd you say it like that?" you prod teasingly.
Sungchan glances quickly at you to find you already looking at him, so he turns away as his ears go red, "Stop!" he whines.
"Stop what?"
"I know I'm being obvious," Sungchan murmurs shyly, "Being friends for now is good, but you know, in the future-"
"In the future, what?"
Sungchan stops in his tracks to stomp his feet adorably, "Y/N, you're doing this on purpose!" his face is heated up like a tomato while you double over in laughter, "Don't make me say it."
"Say what?"
Sungchan huffs and rolls his eyes, refusing to speak and instead grabs your hand to keep the two of you walking despite being the one to stop.
"You're fun to tease, just like my brother," you're still laughing and he's still holding your hand, softly, gently.
"You're a menace," he utters with a smile on his face, "I hate that I like it."
"I like your company too, Sungchan," you giggle, pressing your arm against him, your entwined hands squishing between the two of you, "You're not the only one."
Sungchan looks at you, a content expression on his handsome features, "Good. That's good."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 06 - MIAMI GRAND PRIX
No matter the outcome of the race, there was one sure thing about the Miami Grand Prix since it started running- and that was the fact that Jungkook will always, without fail, host the best party of the entire year that's second to none in your brother's opinion. Mark invited you to come in the previous years, but the Miami GP always fell around the season of deadlines and you weren't sure about partying with people that you haven't met the majority of.
Of course, tonight's going to be packed with strangers too, but you're hoping the occasional familiar face will help you settle in and feel more comfortable. If all else fails, you're sticking with Eunseok's girlfriend.
With another win for your brother in the bag and a slew of interviews later, you were finally clocking off and being chauffeured from the hotel to the dock. You're hoping and praying to the gods that Mark doesn't do anything at the party that would amount to more work for you, such as cleaning up after his messes in the press, but even if he decides to get a little wilder to celebrate his win, he told you that Jungkook's security for the party is absolutely second to none- completely iron clad. There was nothing illegal happening on the boat, of course, but the drivers and their acquaintances deserve a little privacy here and there to act freely.
"No groupies, no fans, no one that can't be trusted," Mark tells you again in the car, "So go crazy. Not that anyone's gonna be paying attention to you, but just in case you get close to any drivers tonight."
You shove his side and he snarls at you, "I didn't even say a name! You can get it on with Mingyu from Mercedes for all I care- well actually, don't do that, but, y'know."
Mark stops his train of thought when you give him a death stare and diverts the topic onto what he thought about the race. You stand off to the side for so many of his interviews, but it's always hard to listen because of all the noise on the track. He's blabbering about the safety car and the situation that happened halfway through the race when Eunseok's girlfriend texts you that they've made it onto the yacht.
"- and I know Donghyuck is my best friend, but I swear he lives to get under my skin on the tract," Marks tuts in annoyance beside you, "Raced wheel-to-wheel with me instead of letting me pass when he was a pit stop behind me anyway. Prick."
"I'm sure he's just vying for entertainment in the midfield. That's just how he is," you hum along, "Who's that driver who retired but was a pain in the ass to everyone for his own entertainment?"
"Oh, Jeonghan? I don't know why McLaren kept him so long. Amazing driver but was always on the verge of a race ban with his penalty points," Mark chuckles in remembrance, "The grid's a bit more calm this year with so many rookies from last season and this season; no one's taking insane risks yet."
"Good. I hate seeing crashes," you counter, "Sungchan was so sad in Saudi Arabia after his crash."
Mark's face contorts into constipation from holding back from teasing you, but it slips his lips as he coos in a high-pitch tone, "Oooo, Sungchan. How was loverboy after the race anyway? I didn't get to see him since we had separate meetings today."
You resist the urge to snap at him and breathe in and out deeply, "I haven't seen him either. I was with you, remember?"
"Oh yeah. Then let's congratulate him properly for his second P4 finish! So insane!" Mark claps happily, doing a little dance in his seat. Because of Sungchan's good performances, they were steadily fighting for the top spot of the Constructor's Championship. You had managed to send Sungchan a congratulatory text, but other than the rushed 'thank you!!' and 'see you soon!:)' he was able to send you because he was whisked away by his team, you hadn't spoken to him.
The car pulls up to the dock and you momentarily marvel at the flashy, jaw-dropping yachts before Mark drags you to the direction of the brightest and loudest boat of the line up.
"C'mon, if we're late they'll actually just leave," Mark murmurs under his breath. It's all sights he's used to so he doesn't realise you're trying to take in the surroundings, but you forgive him for the sole fact that because he was the winner of the race, Jungkook gave him rights to skip the queue of people trying to get on the boat.
Haechan gives the two of you the stink-eye and the bird as he waits for security to get through everyone.
Jungkook is deep in host-duties as you step on the boat following an extensive search. He daps up Mark and congratulates him on the win before turning to you, "Y/N, right? It's good to see you again!"
"Thank you for letting me come. I've heard lots of things about your Miami parties," you greet him pleasantly.
"Mark's been talking about inviting you for years, so I'm glad you could make it. Haven't seen you much in the paddock this season yet," Jungkook cocks his head.
"I'm always hiding in the Ferrari garage. I don't really know anyone to mingle in the paddock with," you tell him.
His face lights up, "Well then tonight is the perfect opportunity to meet the people that frequent the paddock! Mostly drivers, their partners and their entourage on the boat tonight. And if you're single, my party's matchmake'd a good handful of couples," his lid drops into a wink as he smirks.
"Trying to set my sister up right in front of me," Mark sighs in defeat beside you, "We'll see you around, Kook. Have to go find the other Ferrari."
"Tell him that overtake he did on me at Turn 11 was downright dirty, but incredible," Jungkook kisses his teeth as the memory from a few hours earlier surfaces, "I must have missed him coming aboard."
Mark drags you further afield into the boat, thanking everyone briefly that shouted congratulations his way, but he's steadfast on his journey. With such an exclusive guest list, the boat isn't too cramped yet despite being lively in nature so early in the night. You easily find Eunseok and his girlfriend towards the bow of the ship, delighting you to find her waiting with a drink in hand for you.
"Sorry, didn't get the race winner a drink," she says sheepishly at Mark who waves her off, "But congratulations."
Eunseok parrots the same sentiment to your brother.
"Thank you guys and don't worry- there's plenty of time for drinks," he smiles, "Have you guys seen Sungchan?"
You previously told Eunseok's girlfriend that you were hanging out with Sungchan a lot and enjoying his company and her mouth had dropped in shock that she didn't think to put the two of you together despite him driving for Ferrari as he was also Eunseok's best friend on the grid. You'd identified they were close with the stories Sungchan would tell you about his karting days and junior career, but you wanted to wait to see if there was even anything to say to your friend to not make it a big deal.
"He came on with us but I think Taeyong dragged him away. I told him to come back here now," Eunseok flashes his phone at you to their texts. Mark just hums and leaves quickly, saying that he'll come back again later in the night after making sure you'd be okay with the company.
His girlfriend hooks her arm around yours and clinks your drinks together in a cheers, "We're finally having a night out together since we first met. Let's go crazy!"
"I don't know if crazy is the right word. I don't wanna fall off the edge of the boat!" you squawk as you cast your eyes overboard to the steep drop down into the treacherous ocean.
"Please, your loverboy would never let that happen. He won't be able to take his eyes off you tonight regardless," she rolls her eyes playfully and bats at the tassels coming off your dress.
"No, you look so good," you squeeze her arm.
Eunseok scoffs in front of the two of you, "Get a room, geez!"
"Watch your back," you stick your tongue out at him teasingly as his girlfriend giggles beside you.
Eunseok opens his mouth to reply, but then his eye catches on something behind you that makes him smirk.
"Y/N, you're here. Finally," you feel her arm slip away from yours as you hear that familiar, deep and comforting voice behind you through the buzz of the party.
Sungchan is dressed in a full-black outfit complete with a leather jacker over his shoulders, perfectly matching your black dress.
Your arms reach up instinctively around his neck to pull him into a hug, while his hands find home on the exposed skin on the small of your back, setting your nerves on fire in the way they linger there.
"Congratulations on P4 again. You're amazing. I'm so proud of you," you whisper up to his ear.
"Thank you. That really means a lot from you," his voice is soft and appreciative, as he rubs the area cut out from the back of your dress, "And you look so incredible tonight."
You pull away, already knowing your cheeks are red, but his hands stretch and stay clasped around your waist for a beat too long. You don't even question it, not even when he releases one hand, but keeps a hold onto your waist and pulls you by his side.
Eunseok and his girlfriend's eyebrows are raised in amusement when you finally remember their existence, but they don't say anything and just sip their drink instead.
"Where'd you go?" Eunseok asks your companion, who was radiating all his body heat to you even in the gusty Miami breeze.
"Taeyong was introducing me to his team," Sungchan says off-handedly, "What are you guys drinking?"
"Mojitos," you tell him, showing him the cup in your hand and bringing it up to his lip, "Want some?"
Sungchan hums in agreement, capturing your straw with his plump lips, "Mhm, that's good. Let's get more when you finish."
"You two are gross," Eunseok grumbles, but the two of you cock your head in confusion at him. He just bats away at you and turns to his girlfriend, "Babe, let's go mingle and leave these two alone."
His girlfriend agrees instantly, dropping you a not-so-subtle wink as she's whisked away into the crowd. It leaves you alone with Sungchan, him watching the party as you become all too aware of his hand still around your waist.
"Someone's touchy tonight," you murmur softly, not accusatory.
He doesn't let go, but looks down at you with that fond look on his face, "Is that okay?"
Your heart thumps in your chest, "Mhm, yeah."
"Good."
Later on in the night, you found yourself in the lounge inside of the boat where it was lit up by lamps, but people weren't any less drunk. A group was playing card games around you, but you were tucked up against Sungchan's side, trying to sober up a little bit after you both had too many cocktails. There was no reason for Jungkook to have over 20 enticing cocktails on the menu, seriously!
After a bit of dancing once the mega-yacht started sailing and there was no exit until you docked back, you were winding down inside.
"You doing okay?" he whispers down to you after his turn in the game passed.
Your fingers clutched at the fabric of his black button up, leather jacket long gone, "Yeah. I'm comfy, don't worry."
"Tell me if you wanna go get some air, mhm?" he pats your head sweetly. Across the room, on another sprawling couch, Eunseok's girlfriend wiggles her eyebrows at you.
From the outside, it's obvious you and Sungchan are more than friends. There's no denying it, even between the both of you. At least you hoped you were reading the situation right. But you hadn't really tiptoed past that line that cemented being beyond friends- it feels like you're just waiting for the time or moment to come.
There's a commotion and a clash across the room as a door swings open, letting in a a whiff of fresher air and then slams closed.
"Fuck, I'm so drunk. Can I sit down?" your brother, who you definitely forgot existed, stumbles into the room.
"There's no space," Haechan groans, "Sit on the floor."
"Noooo, I need to collapse on this couch right now. Y/N, just sit on your boyfriend's lap," Mark whines impatiently, pointing at the two of you. The whole room practically ceases all noise, everyone turning their head to look at you.
"Mark, I'm gonna throw you overboard," you grit your teeth at him.
Sungchan just laughs deeply beside you as he looks over, "Y/N, it's fine. Your brother looks like he needs to sit down. You mind?"
Hesitantly, you get up from your very comfy position and Sungchan shuffles over to get under you. You make no move to sit, so he hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you down onto him, making you giggle nervously.
"Tell me if I'm too heavy," you twist your head to look at him, surprising yourself with the close distance down to his face.
You don't know if your eyes deceive you, but his eyes flicker down to your lips for just a split second before he shakes his head, "You're as light as a feather. Have you seen my muscles?"
You choke back a scoff and swat at him, but he squeezes his arms around your midriff instead to make you laugh.
"Anyway, how are you feeling? Still wasted?" his own words slur ever so slightly as you deny his question.
"Tipsy, but not as bad as earlier," your head still feels heavy on your neck, lolling to one side, but everything seems a bit clearer with every second that passes, "Our first time getting drunk together!"
Sungchan fights back the cheesy smile that threatens to take over once he heard the word 'our' come from your lips. He could definitely get used to that.
"Okay, good. Keep drinking your water, mhm?" he hums, nodding over to the table crowded with cards, cocktail glasses and bottles of beer, sodas and water.
"You're acting like my parent. Even Mark's not this vigilant," you jut your chin over to your brother, who is sprawled on the end of the plush couch, moments away from slipping off but sitting without a care in the world. His eyes are scrunched together tightly, trying to block out the light and you just know he's concentrating on stopping the room from spinning.
"Your brother just won so I guess he can get drunk off his ass. Therefore, I gotta make sure you make it off the boat in one, pretty piece," he humphs behind you.
You twist your body, "He didn't put you on babysitting duty, did he?"
Sungchan chortles, "Of course not. And he doesn't have to. I wanna take care of you."
"Oh," you relax in his hold, "Okay. Thanks Channie."
"You're gonna be at lunch tomorrow, right?" he moves topics quickly, but it doesn't slip past you the way he leans forward so his lips are pretty much pressed and moving against the bare skin of your shoulder.
You freeze in the moment and melt when he murmurs your name against your skin to get your attention again.
"Oh, yeah. With Eunseok and his girlfriend? Of course. Gosh, we've both been so busy this weekend- I had to ask her to tell you all the details," you sigh deeply, "How do we work for the same team and barely see each other sometimes? Well, it's cause you're a big shot formula one driver and I have to be following around my brother and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, which is highly likely at any given moment-"
"Definitely still tipsy. You're so talkative when you're tipsy," he's found out this fact about you over the course of the night, "But it's okay. As long as you'll be there tomorrow."
"Sungchan! Hey!" a face that's distantly familiar appears above you. Lee Taeyong smiles down at the two of you, a bottle in hand, "This must be your girlfriend. I had no idea."
"Girlfriend?" you cock your head at him, "I'm Lee Y/N. Mark's sister." You point at your brother, who is now curled up into a ball as Haechan looms over him, snapping pictures on his phone.
Kim Jungwoo apparates beside his McLaren teammate, swinging an arm around his shoulder, "He's such an idiot. I told him Sungchan had a girl. Nice to meet you officially, Y/N."
You've heard lots of good things about the pair as they're pretty close to your brother, but you had never properly met them until now.
"I'm sorry- I didn't know for sure," Taeyong pouts.
Behind you, Sungchan is tense. You can feel it in the way his grip tightens.
"Huh?"
Your face must have displayed the epitome of confusion as Taeyong looks at you apologetically, "My cousin thought Sungchan was cute and I thought he was single so I dragged him to introduce them at the start of the night. I would have never done that if I knew, Y/N. I don't mean to disrespect you at all. Thanks for introducing my cousin to Theo though, Sungchan. I think she thinks he's even cuter than you!"
Your perplexity only triples as Taeyong goes on and you nervously turn around to your companion who gives you a sheepish look.
"It's alright, guys. We're gonna go outside now, though, if you wanna take my seat," Sungchan taps on your hip to get you to stand up. Wordlessly, but still confused, you follow his command. The two McLaren drivers beam at you as they wave goodbye and you don't even realise that Sungchan is holding your hand all the way to the deck until he stops and separates your hands to brush his through his hair.
"What just happened?" you laugh incredulously, "I am so confused right now. Did I get more drunk? Did I hallucinate that?"
Sungchan's lips tug into a guilty smile, "Taeyong tried to set me up with his cousin. I didn't wanna lead her on or anything so I said I wasn't available. Theo from Haas walked past at that moment so I introduced him instead."
"Oh," your mouth flattens at the idea of Sungchan being set up with someone, but then your heart explodes into butterflies, "Yeah, it probably did look like I was your girlfriend sat on your lap like that."
"Good. I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea about me again," Sungchan's voice drops low as he leans against the rails of the ship. His eyes are dark, his lids fluttering slowly in his slightly tipsy state.
It's getting windier and colder as the night goes on and the sound of the sea crashing on itself seems to intensify as silence occupies the space between you.
"Sungchan?" you look up at him to find him already staring down at you, something unreadable in his large eyes.
"Yeah?"
"You're not as drunk either now, are you?" you ask quietly.
"Nope. My head's crystal clear, promise," he utters truthfully.
"Okay."
A breeze runs through your figures and you shake at the coolness. Sungchan frowns and pulls you to his body, wrapping you up in a hug, "Shit, let's go find my jacket and find somewhere else inside. You're gonna freeze out here."
Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around him, letting his body heat migrate to you, "Yeah, let's. But for now, you're pretty warm."
Sungchan drops his chin on top of your head, "Then let's stay like this for a bit longer, mhm?"
You pull your head back to meet his eyes, "Sungchan?"
"Yes, Y/N?" he says again, expression fond.
"I heard kissing is a really efficient way to warm up."
Sungchan's face doesn't even display surprise as he smirks cheekily, "Oh really? Maybe we should try that out."
"Yeah, it's really cold."
Even in your heels, you still have to reach up on your tiptoes to meet his face halfway, steadily pressing your lips against his as his hands come up to cup your flushed cheeks.
His lips sets your body ablaze as he moves his mouth slowly, but desperately against yours. You melt into his touch as you deepen the kiss with every beat and the way you feel him yearn against you is so delicious. It feels like you've been waiting for this for so long- because you have- and it's even better than anything you could have conjured up in your imagination as relief floods your body to finally be so close to him.
"Y/N," he practically pleads as you both come up for air.
Your eyes sparkle in the moonlight as you pull him in for another kiss, never wanting this moment to end, "Sungchan, I'm still cold."
"Let me fix that. Can't let my girl be cold," he smiles against your lips.
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 07 - EMILIA-ROMAGNA GRAND PRIX
You've been lucky to attend a few Italian races while your brother's been racing for Ferrari. Other than racing in Canada, they're Mark's favourite races due to the passionate support of the tifosi- the roar of the crowd, the sea of red, the banners and the flags. Monza and Imola are staples in the calendar for your family to attend, so you're already used to cameras on you in the paddock. So far, you've asked to be kept off the screen as much as possible since you were now technically Ferrari staff, but if your family was around, you knew you'd end up on the broadcast for reactions.
Your family arrives only a couple of hours before lights out at Imola, choosing to skip the build-up days to extend their vacation for as long as possible. The calendar was going into a triple-header, so your family was excited to see three races in a span of just over two weeks.
"Is Mark driving you insane yet?" your mother snorts as she settles beside you in the Ferrari garage.
"You know it," you half-joke, knowing she's the one person who'd understand what you're going through, "At least you can relax, eomma."
"I know it's tricky sometimes, but I just wanna make sure that Mark has family around and he can take care of you too," your mother smiles softly. With the way the sport worked, drivers were constantly being sent around the world week on week and it could get isolating from your family sometimes, not being able to be still for a while. You wouldn't have it any other way, really.
"How's Monaco?" your dad asks from your other side. He's got a camera around his neck, ready for sightseeing once he's out of the garage. Your dad's hoping for a Mark victory to be able to capture all the love of the tifosi through his lens.
"I've barely seen any of it. After this race, this next week will probably be the longest I'll have been in the city since I moved there," you tell them honestly, "I've made a couple of friends."
"Friends? Y/N's got a boyfriend!" your elder brother sing-songs from behind you.
If there weren't so many people around, you would have turned around and pounced on Jinhyung.
"Y/N, he's coming to dinner tonight, right?" your dad's tone turns serious.
You groan, "Yes he is, but please do not be embarrassing or try to scare him. You'll probably see him briefly in a second."
"No promises," your dad pulls you into an affectionate side hug, "You'll forever be my little girl, Y/N. And he's the first boyfriend we're ever meeting!"
"Acting like Donghyuck's not practically your son's boyfriend," you jeer at them.
Right on time, you see two figures round the front of the garage. It's a funny picture- your middle brother with his arms slung around the shoulder of your almost-boyfriend despite the height difference. Mark's adorning a smirk, amused at the gravity of the situation, meanwhile Sungchan looks like he's three seconds away from combusting.
He meets your eyes and you try to give him a comforting smile.
"Eomma, appa, hyung, this is Sungchan. My teammate," Mark punctuates his final word, staring at you teasingly.
Sungchan waves nervously, bowing to them in greeting, "Hi! It's nice to finally meet you. I hope you enjoy the race."
"Aren't you so handsome! And tall!" your mother coo's. You're sure they've seen each other in passing before, either at Maranello or the races Sungchan substituted for previously, but it's their first time meeting officially.
You watch fondly as his cheeks tint pink and he begins to fiddle with the material of the fireproofs bunched up around his waist.
"And you've been such a good driver this season. You're very talented- definitely rookie of the year," your father compliments.
"How are you balancing being a Ferrari rookie AND dealing with both of these Lee's?" your eldest brother exclaims, "You deserve an award for that."
"You're the worst one!" you jeer at your brother and then swat away at your family, "Mark and Sungchan have a race to get to!"
You hug your brother good luck with your family following suit and you can sense Sungchan's eyes following you when you pull away from Mark, not knowing whether it was appropriate to approach you in front of your family.
His body relaxes in relief when you open your arms wide for him to slot himself into. You reach up on your toes and stop at his ear, "Good luck, Sungchan. I believe in you."
A hand squeezes at your waist in gratitude, "Thank you. See you after the race, baby."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 08 - MONACO GRAND PRIX
There's a few moments in your life that you can still visualise and feel the nerves and tension of that situation to this day.
The bubbling in your stomach, the way the room and the people in it started to blur, the pounding of your heart against your chest- you were feeling all of it now and to an intensity you didn't even feel before walking the stage for your college graduation, nor walking into the hardest exam of your life.
You can feel your mother's hand in between your own tightly enclasped hands that are resting in your chin in a prayer. Every so often, you bring yourself back to consciousness and remind yourself to breathe.
Coming into Sunday, you were already very, very, very nervous and anxious. It was rare to find your brother qualifying outside of the front row, but some traffic impeding his Q3 flying lap and a set up that just wasn't completely optimised for the day had him in P4 coming into Sunday. Mark was optimistic - he had a good lead in the championship - so he was in a good mood before the race.
The biggest thing that made you nervous wasn't related to your brother - it was the fact Sungchan qualified in P3 ahead of him.
And was running the race with 3 laps to go in P1.
Monaco was one of Sungchan's favourite tracks in the world with the hairpin bends and incredible scenery. It's not a sentiment shared by everyone- it's hard to overtake, whoever qualifies first usually wind, blah, blah, blah. But Monaco remains one of the most prestigious races in all of motorsports and those who can survive and come out on top will go down in the history books.
Sure, the F1 world will say that there was luck involved if this does turn out to be the Ferrari rookie's first F1 win- a crash between P1 of Red Bull's Juyeon and P2 of Mercedes' Yeonjun was how Sungchan found himself leading the grand prix - but it was important to capitalise on what you were dealt with. It would've been so easy for Sungchan to panic and start to make mistakes, but he kept his cool and locked in.
"3 laps to go. Mark is still 4.3 seconds behind. Let's go to the end, Sungchan," his race engineer's voice is shaking over the speaker.
The atmosphere in the garage is nothing like you've ever experienced. Mark winning is just another race to them (not that it's any less exciting) so they have their routines and they know what to do.
Having watched each of Sungchan's races during his rookie season, you knew his first podium, let alone his first win, was just a matter of time, but to do it in Monaco? Only 8 races in? When the whole motorsports world was doubting him coming into the season? That was impressive.
"C'mon," you grit your teeth together and plea under your breath, eyes glued to the screens in the garage, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon."
On the other side of you, Sungchan's mother crumples herself even deeper into Sungchan's father's chest. His brother is rubbing his hands together frantically in prayer. If there was a race to win for Sungchan, it was probably this one.
"Last lap, Sungchan. Give it everything," his engineer encourages softly as the car passes the starting grid for his final lap.
He makes the first turn gracefully and charges down the Beau Rivage. Behind him, the red of Mark's car appears in the distance, but he sweeps past Casino and reaches the part where your breath hitches and your heart stops beating. It's so terrifying watching the car come to such a slow speed all of a sudden as he whips the car around the hairpin of turn 6.
There's too many cars in the tunnel for you to let out your breath, but thankfully, they all move over expertly as they get lapped. You see the nerves getting to Sungchan as he grips his wheel even tighter trying to focus through the Nouvelle Chicane, but you blink and he's already at the Swimming Pool, moving at a blistering speed.
"Oh my God," Sungchan's mother starts crying the very second that Sungchan makes it safely past the very last turn and there's only a few seconds before he's barrelling through the finish line as winner of the 2025 Monaco Grand Prix.
You don't know what happens after. There was a lot of hugs from everyone around you. Then your brother points out that you're crying- even as much as you were when Mark won his first F1 race all of those years ago.
His family, who you met a few days ago, sweeps you up in a hug and you're all blabbering incoherently at each other.
Your headphones get knocked about, but they remain on your head long enough to hear his melodious, proud and exhausted screams as his engineer and team principal congratulates him on his win. Sungchan's voice cracks in gratitude over the radio as he thanks the team and all you want to do is pull him into the tightest hug and tell him how proud you are of him.
"Come, let's see them!" one of the Ferarri mechanics beckons over in the general direction.
You let go of his mother's hand, "Tell him I'm proud too!"
His mother gasps and gives you a pointed look, "No! You tell him. You have to come with us."
"I shouldn't. Your family deserves to celebrate this," you say hesitantly, reaching up to swipe your tears away.
His brother drops his arm around your shoulder and begins to drag you out of the garage, "You have to come for your brother anyway. The second Sungchan sees you there, he's gonna be so happy. He wants you there."
Your entire body is shaking as you watch from behind the engineers and the mechanics the cars pull into Parc Ferme. Sungchan clambers out of the car and when he stands on top of it and raises his arm in victory, your heart swells in pride.
The team are screaming, hyping him up as he runs over and when he jumps, they receive him with cries and congratulations. As he takes his helmet off, the team part in the middle and usher his family, and you, towards the barrier. You stand back in respect, watching Sungchan cry into his mother's neck and then into his Father's and brother's. When they move aside to reveal you, Sungchan's grin grows even wider.
"Come here," he calls over to you desperately.
In a flash, you're hooking your arms around his neck, being lifted off the ground as he tries to squeeze your body against his as best he could with the metal barrier between you.
"I'm so proud of you, Sungchan. You're an F1 winner. You just won the Monaco Grand Prix! Again!" you sob into him.
His breath is hot on your ear, "You're my lucky charm. Thank you for being by my side, Y/N."
When your feet reach the ground again and you pull away, you're taken by surprise when Sungchan's glove-covered hands come up to your cheek and then his mouth presses against yours faithfully. Your lips move against his in the cacophony of the Ferrari team's whistles and yelps, as well as the cheering of the supporters in the stands and presumably, of the millions of people at home watching.
The world quickly drowns out around you and all you can focus on is the sweet taste of him on your lips and the way his being and his soul envelops you in this blanket of warmth and light. And you know in that moment that you could do this forever.
a/n: thank you thank you thank you for reading. find my masterlist here & all likes, comments, reblogs and feedback are so, so appreciated <3
Oh my god- this was such a good and educational read!?!? I feel like I know a lot more about F1 now and isn’t Sungchan just the sweetest most gentleman fluffball out there??? 😭❤️ big compliments! I could have read triple the amount of text, i was that hooked
