#He could’ve done so much more if he only had time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

annwrites · 3 days

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you should see me under the hood of this thing, sweetheart.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: billy gets a flat & while waiting for a tire, you're stuck in oklahoma for a couple more days.

— tags: billy opening up a little. billy working on a car. going to an arcade. going night-swimming.

— tw: there is a homophobic slur in this one.

— word count: 6.8k

— a/n: i hope this entry sounds halfway decent. i wrote the grand majority of it surrounded by other people/noise/music, instead of at my work desk, listening to music that helps me write.

find my other posts concerning billy here

After considerable effort on Billy’s part, he’d eventually coaxed you back into his car and driven the both of you back to the motel. You’d cried the entire way there, and he felt like a piece of shit for it.

Once inside, you’d sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor.

“I’m going to shower again real quick—sweated through my fucking clothes from nerves.”

“Okay.”

He sighs. “I need to worry about you running off again while I’m in there?”

You’re quiet for a moment. “No. I’m tired. I just want to go to sleep.”

He nods and watches as you get ready to lay down on the left side, which is nearest the door.

“Other side,” he says.

You look at him. “Why?”

He crosses his arms. “Please just do what I’ve asked. I don’t feel like fighting anymore tonight.”

You roll your eyes, lying down on the right side, cocooning yourself in blankets.

He goes to wash up quickly then.

When Billy comes back into the bedroom, you’re already fast-asleep. He feels relief that you’d stayed. He’d rushed so much in the shower that he’d gotten shampoo in his eyes. He was surprised the sound of him cursing hadn’t woken you.

He lies down in only his briefs—hating the feeling of clothing on him in bed, but chooses to suck it up for tonight—and he lays on his side, looking at you. Your bruises were still, obviously, quite prominent, but a few were beginning to turn more green instead of their previous dark-blue shade.

He briefly wonders how the fuck your dad could’ve ever put his hands on you, then thinks on how he nearly did just the same less than two hours ago. He tells himself he wouldn’t have done it—but the thought had crossed his mind. He’d wanted to see you afraid in that moment. And then, once he had, immediately regretted it. Deeply.

A muscle in his jaw feathers when he thinks of how you’d asked him to please not hurt you. How he’d come out of the bathroom to find you curled into a ball on the floor, a nervous wreck.

He did that to you.

You’d come with him to get away from your abuser, only to find another one along the way. What the fuck was wrong with him? Picking on you and getting under that pretty skin was one thing—he honestly fucking loved pissing you off and making you flustered. Plus, it turned him on unlike anything else. But scaring you? It just made him hate himself even more than he already does.

He slowly reaches up and gently runs his fingertips along your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

You stir in your sleep, scooting a bit closer to him. He then tries something that, if you wake up, he’s sure he’ll get his ass chewed out for. He wraps his right arm around you, bringing you in closer to him, until you’re against his chest. Thankfully, you remain asleep. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

He then realizes this is the only time he can really talk to you—if he so chooses. He knows if he tried while you’re awake that you’d listen. But what if you later used it against him? Or thought him weak? Or some faggot for ‘sharing his feelings’? No. He had to be strong—tough. That was what constituted being a real man.

He tucks your head under his chin. “I won’t ever scare you like that again. I’d never raise a hand to you.” He lays his cheek against the crown of your head of soft hair. “I don’t know why the fuck I act the way I do. I just don’t know how to stop it. Maybe I can’t.”

He sighs. He was tired—bone-tired after the adrenaline that had rushed through him as he drove down street after street looking for you, mind racing with horrible thoughts. Thoughts like: if someone did kidnap and kill you…the last thing you would remember would be that everyone you’ve ever trusted has either hurt or abandoned you—including him—that no one was coming.

He pulls you impossibly closer then. “Still not going to stop getting on your nerves, though,” he says with a small smile.

You’re awake. Have been the entire time, but choose not to react—to say anything. You want him to continue talking—letting it—anything—out. This is the him you like. Someone who’s capable of opening up and being the least bit vulnerable. Not the monster you’d bore witness to earlier in the evening. As you looked at the hatred in his eyes then, you felt like you were looking at a stranger.

Then again, you feel that way when he’s nice, too. Maybe he has multiple personalities. You smirk at the stupid idea, for whatever reason, then snuggle closer to his chest, enjoying the warmth, his broad back blocking the AC from blowing on you.

The two of you fall asleep like that—twined around one another.

When you wake the next morning, Billy’s heavy form is lying half on top of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, one of his legs positioned between both of yours. He snores lightly into your ear. And then you notice you’re now drenched in sweat from his body heat.

God, he’s like a human furnace. How the hell does he wear that leather jacket all the time?

You try to wiggle away from him and his snoring pauses for a moment, then continues as you lie still momentarily. You then move further toward the edge of the bed, and once you’ve slid out and onto the floor, you stand, looking down at him, seeing he’s now practically star-fished all across the mattress.

You walk over to your bag, now needing to shower again yourself to wash the sweat off, and grab a few items of clothing, silently padding into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

When you emerge half-an-hour later—half that time spent blow-drying your head of long hair, and pulling it into a ponytail—something you’d not done in the last couple of days—instead opting for leaving it down—you find Billy already awake, leaned back against the headboard, one arm behind his head, the other holding the TV remote in his lap.

He glances up to you, appreciating the view of you in a crop-top and jean shorts. He wolf-whistles and you don’t even give him a reaction as you place your things back in your bag.

You then turn around and he winks at you.

You don’t want to admit it, but him acting cocky and full of himself again actually comforts you. This him you can tolerate, if not begrudgingly.

“We have to be checked out in a little over an hour.”

He nods, continuing to look you over. “Why don’t you ever tease your hair?”

You shrug, even if you’re taken a little aback by the question. “I used to.”

“When?”

You cross your arms, leaning back against the wall, smirking. “Before you came to Hawkins.”

He frowns. “Why stop?”

“Why do you care what my hair looks like?”

“Just think you’d look hot with it done up is all.”

You walk over, throwing the curtains open and he squints, wincing against the bright light now streaming in. “I don’t have anyone in particular that I’m trying to impress.”

He rolls his eyes at the cheap shot.

You seat yourself on the foot of the bed, facing him.

He raises a brow. “Somethin’ on your mind, doll?”

You grow serious then. After last night, you weren’t sure you could go back to this charade. Not after seeing such a different side of him on the interstate. “Do…do you want to talk about last night?”

He almost replies immediately with 'not really', but refrains. “What about it?”

You look down to your hands in your lap. “They’re not going to be happy, seeing as you put a hole in their wall.”

His jaw flexes. “They can hang a painting up then. Or plaster over it. Like I care.”

You look up to him. “So we’re going back to this, then? You acting like nothing matters to you? And me pretending to believe it?”

He leans his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “What is it with chicks, man? Always wanting to talk about your damn feelings all the time.” He looks at you. “I got pissed, I did something stupid, and then you did too. What, you want to kiss and make up?”

He cocks his head to the side.

You understand the walls he has built around himself. You’re two sides of the same coin that way. It’s why you didn’t put much effort into making friends at school. You knew what happened when you opened up to people.

They often disappointed.

You scoot closer to him and he shifts uncomfortably, knowing what you’re doing—trying to get closer literally, so as to get closer to him figuratively. He knows this is you trying to connect—form some deeper type of relationship with him, and he should want that, but he simply can’t.

He stands then, walking over to his duffel bag to start getting dressed.

“Billy-”

He keeps his back turned to you. “Just don’t, alright? I’m not the sappy, chick-flick type. We had a fight, we both got upset, it’s over. Just drop it.”

You deflate. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he says, pulling out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt from his bag.

The two of you get breakfast at the motel—cheap waffles and fruit, but it’s something, and free at that, so you fill yourselves before getting back on the road.

And nearly three hours later finds you on the side of the interstate with a flat tire.

You’d both felt something wrong with the front driver’s side and you’d looked at him, while he groaned, slamming his hand against the wheel. “Fuck, what now?”

He’d pulled onto the shoulder, kneeling down and looking it over. You stood nearby, staying silent as he let out a string of curse words.

He then stood, walking around to the back and popping the truck. You stood idly by, watching as he tossed your bags and his onto the ground, removing the spare tire from the trunk, then the jack and lug-wrench. He tosses the tire down near the flat, then angrily pulls his jacket off, tossing it at you.

You catch it before it can smack you in the face and gently drop it in the back seat.

You watch as he gets to work loosening the bolts on the tire and you feel yourself flush. Watching him work on a car…you hadn’t expect this reaction.

You then wonder if he’s ever done any other work on it before. By the callouses on his hands, especially at eighteen, you imagine so.

When he begins to jack it up, you bite back a nervous smile, feeling something pool between your thighs. Oh, not good. Not here.

You turn away for a moment and he glances up to you. “What, can’t take watching a man get his hands dirty? Sorry your pretty-boy Harrington isn’t here and fuckin’ clueless, I’m sure.”

You turn back around and he notices your flushed cheeks, and you refusing to meet his eyes. “No, it’s not that.”

He stares at you for a moment, then it dawns on him. You like this. A toothy grin forms on his face. “You should see me under the hood of this thing, sweetheart. I’d really have you sweating then.”

He turns back to the tire, loosening the bolts the rest of the way, pulling it off, and looking it over. Then he explodes, causing you to take a step back. “Motherfucker! Are you fucking kidding me? Goddamn piece of fucking shit! Fuck this, I knew I should’ve bought a Goodyear!”

He stands, hands on his hips, shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he stares down at the ruined tire, nostrils flared.

“W-what’s wrong? Can you not patch it somehow, maybe?”

He stays silent for a moment, refusing to take this out on you. “No,” he says, brow twitching in irritation. “I would’ve, had the puncture not been in the goddamn sidewall.”

“That’s bad?”

He looks at you, replying sarcastically. “Yeah, honey, that's bad. Means the thing is fuckin’ junk now.”

He kicks it. Then he sighs, bending back down to put the spare on.

“Well, you can just drive on that one now, right?”

He looks upward to the sky, begging for the strength. “Women…” he mutters. “Not more than thirty or forty miles. Definitely no more than a hundred, and that’s if I really want to push my fuckin’ luck and risk another blowout, if not screwing up my alignment, which will just create an even bigger mess.”

It all sounds like Greek to you. “What’s wrong with that tire?”

He looks at you like the answer should be obvious. “It’s a goddamn donut. They’re not meant to be driven on for long periods of time.”

He shoves it on the car, screwing the nuts back into place.

You stay silent after that.

You’re currently standing beside Billy—the back of his shirt drenched in sweat from the summer heat—and watch as the man in front of you, standing behind the counter of a local auto-body shop, talks lowly to someone on the phone, glancing to Billy every few seconds, who is now in a…bad mood, to put it lightly.

The man finally hangs up, turning back to him. “Soonest I can get one in is two days.”

“Two fucking days? Are you kidding me?” He shouts.

You blanch, staring at the man with wide-eyes as he crosses his arms before his chest, giving Billy a rather displeased look.

You then grab the side of Billy’s shirt in your fist. You look at the man. “I’m sorry about that, we’ll be right back.”

Billy looks at you. “Don’t apologize to him. This is fuckin’ ridiculous-”

You shoosh him rather loudly—people already staring in your direction—and pull him back outside for a moment. He stares down at you.

“What?” he spits at you.

“Who cares if it’s two days, or four or five? It’s not like we’re on a set schedule. All that matters is that we eventually get there. I mean, maybe we could start taking detours along the way and do some sight-seeing. No reason to race all the way there and not enjoy the trip, right?”

He studies you for a moment. His first reaction was to tell you this isn’t a fuckin’ vacation—you weren’t going to be pulling off and taking photos of obnoxious tourist-traps. And then he suddenly softens.

This is you trying to spend time with him…right?

If he tells you no…he fears it may come off like he’s trying to get to California as quickly as possible so he can finally be rid of you.

Then he wonders what happens once the two of you do finally reach those sandy shores. Will you leave him behind, too…?

He shakes his head for a moment, ridding himself of that thought and you deflate at his reaction to your suggestion for making your road trip just a bit more exciting.

“Oh. Sorry. Nevermind. Just forget that I-”

He looks at you again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, I wasn’t-” He sighs. “Fine. We’ll take a couple days off and just explore around town. Find some overpriced souvenir shop so you can buy some ridiculous t-shirt. Happy?”

You smile, nodding.

He heads back inside then. “Two days is fine.”

You decide to pay up two nights at a local Red Roof Inn, which happens to have an outdoor pool. When Billy was told this by the receptionist, he’d looked to you with a raised brow and a smirk, his eyes trailing down your body, then back up. “We’ll have to pick you up a bikini, sweetheart.”

You’d not replied or even reacted as you picked up your bags, turning to head to your room.

Once dropping off your things, Billy had walked back to the door, intending to head back out, intent on keeping his promise of buying you skimpy swimwear. He’d merely called over his shoulder, as you came out of the bathroom, “You comin’?”

It takes a bit of driving before you come across a local clothing shop. You head over to a rack of sundresses and flowy skirts once inside, while Billy heads to a rack a few feet away with women’s swimwear. He smirks when he finds something similar to what he had pictured in his head for you to squeeze into.

He holds it up, the hanger dangling from his index finger, and he calls to you.

When you look at him you flush—of course the bottoms are equivalent to a thong. Your eyes then meet his and he’s waiting for you to respond, a brow raised in offer.

You then shake your head lightly, looking away.

He sighs. “Course not.”

He flips through a couple other options, then picks up a red two-piece—the top essentially a push-up bra. He clears his throat and you look to him again, then quickly away.

He walks over to you, hanger still in-hand. “Oh, c’mon. Just try this one on. Humor me, honey.”

You shake your head, nose raised. “I don’t think so.”

He leans down. “Pretty please?”

You look at him, his face inches from your own.

You shift from one foot to the other. “If I pick one out will you shut up about it?” You ask sweetly, batting your lashes.

He smirks. “If I get to watch.”

You turn away, rolling your eyes, his own landing on your ass, humming his approval at the view.

You find a high-waisted two-piece and a one-piece you like the look of, and you head for the changing room, Billy following closely behind you, which you don’t notice until you turn to shut the door and he places his hand flat against it, keeping it open.

You stare up at him. “Move.”

He leans against the wall with his shoulder, other hand on his hip. “You never said I didn’t get to watch.”

“It was implied.”

He just continues staring down at you.

You then step closer to him, gripping either side of his jacket in your hands, looking up to him with hooded lids. “Hey, Billy?”

God, it took no fucking effort from you for him to be set on fire.

“Yeah, doll?” He asks, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Go find someone who’s desperate enough,” you say, pushing him back, and just as he catches his footing, you slam the door in his face.

You decide on the two-piece, the one-piece a bit awkward-looking in the crotch.

When you exit the changing room, you find Billy standing near a wall half-full of novelty t-shirts.

You wander over to him and watch as a smile breaks out across his face as he pulls down a shirt. He then glances to you at his side and holds it up in front of him.

“What’d’ya think?” He asks.

It’s a plain black shirt with white lettering and a red heart, reading: I heart sluts.

You look at him with an unimpressed expression. “Really?”

“Oh, I definitely fuckin’ do.”

You turn away. “I’m going to check out.”

Billy puts the shirt back, flipping through a handful more and then he laughs to himself. “Oh, fucking perfect,” he says, taking a different one up front with him.

When Billy comes out to the car, he has a pair of swim shorts in a plastic bag and is wearing his new t-shirt.

He gets inside and turns toward you, the front of his shirt on full display. “Where to next? Unless you want to head back and let me see you in that suit?”

When you look at him you let out a completely unexpected laugh.

He keeps his face impassive. “Somethin’ funny?”

You stare at the front of his shirt—just how utterly ridiculous and on-the-nose it is—and then look back up to him, breaking into a fit of giggles.

Seeing you like this—happy, having a laugh for once—he starts to, too. “What?” He asks, snorting. “You think I don’t want to?”

You look back down to his shirt again, tears streaming down your face. “Oh, I do. You’re just not going to.”

He finally turns the engine over, pulling away from the shop. “Oh, baby, you should know by now: I’m not one to give up easily.”

You glance back down to his shirt. ‘Fuck virgins’. Really?

After grabbing a quick bite to eat for lunch, Billy finds a local arcade and the two of you head inside, simply looking for something new to keep you occupied for a couple hours.

And it’s when you look around at the flashing lights and take in the sounds of music and machine sound effects, couples and friends laughing and competing against one another, that you realize that for the first time in a very long time you feel worry-free.

You glance up to Billy at your side and find yourself unable to understand, exactly, how it is that you now feel toward him.

You’d seen a different side of him last night on the side of the interstate—the same man who’d picked you up on your way out-of-town—and just wish you could get more glimpses of that version of him. A version you feel you can actually trust and let your defenses down with.

I can’t do this without you.

You weren’t sure you could’ve made it this far without him, either. In reality, you were the one who needed him. He had the car, the money, the wherewithal, and the knowledge to keep you going. And then you briefly consider how those things, coupled with his more serious moments, make you feel safe in relying on him. You wonder how that would make him feel to know. And then you think of his fist in a drywall and withdraw a little.

“You were wrong, y’know,” you say softly.

He looks down to you, stopping, hands on his hips. “What’s that, darlin’?”

You clasp your hands in front of you, looking down. “You could—can—do this without me. You’re not the one who needs the other here.”

He studies you for a moment. Then he grips your chin gently between his fingers, forcing your eyes to meet his. “You’re wrong.”

He turns, taking your hand, and leading you over to a machine that will turn his cash into tickets for games. He bites back a satisfied smile at you admitting that you need him as he shoves dollar bills into it. It means a lot to him to hear. Means a lot that you’re willing to actually admit it out loud.

Once you’re both holding handfuls of tickets, Billy heads toward a racing game, while you go to wander in the opposite direction, wanting to try a claw machine, until he grips the hem of your top, dragging you along beside him. “Stop wanderin’ off.”

You look up at him with narrowed eyes. “I don’t think I can get lost in here.”

He smirks. “I’ll win you a stuffed animal later. Once you’ve earned it.”

The two of you then sit side-by-side, readying yourself to race. He glances to you as the screens begin to count down. “Don’t think I’m about to take it easy on you either, just because you have a pair of tits.”

You glare at him. “Why do you always have to be such a vulgar ass?”

He smirks. “Says the girl with a foul-mouth.”

Your wheel jerks and you gasp in disbelief that he was already ramming his car into yours.

You keep your eyes trained ahead at the screen then and accelerate, then see Billy shifting gears out of the corner of your eye.

You mentally resign yourself to losing to him… And you do a couple minutes later, him standing with a smug look on his face, arms crossed.

“Billy, one. You,” he shrugs, sucking on his teeth, cocking his head to the side.

You look behind him and smile, stepping past him, heading for the air hockey.

You currently have six scores to Billy’s two, and as you glance up to him—the irritated look on his face—you find yourself unsurprised that he’s the competitive type.

He smacks the puck back toward you, brows furrowed, free hand gripping the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles are white. “How the fuck are you so good at this?”

You shrug, smacking the puck back his way. “Guess it just comes naturally.”

He glances up to you with a smirk. “Oh yeah? Putting stuff in holes your specialty?” He smacks the puck back toward you.

You don’t take the bait, and instead choose to flip the script on him. “Maybe I just got a lot of recent practice in the night Steve and I went out. Maybe we went to the Hawkins Arcade after.”

You smack the puck as hard as you can, his eyes now trained on you and not the table, and it slides into his side easily. The table lets out a musical jingle at yet another victory on your part and you raise your arms above your head, and jump. “Yes!” You say with a smile, settling back into fighting stance.

His nostrils flare and he leans over the table, slamming the puck down and smacking it so hard it goes flying past you.

You roll your eyes, heading over to grab it and when you bend down to do so, you feel a hard smack against your behind and when you whirl around, Billy standing behind you with a wide smile.

“Bet Harrington didn’t get to do that, though, did he?”

You shoulder check him as you head back to the table. “Felt like a flea bite to me.”

Just as you set the puck back on the table, you feel him grab a handful and squeeze.

You squeak in surprise and before he gets a chance to make it back to his side, you smack the puck over, scoring yet again.

His smile drops from his face. “Hey! That’s fuckin’ cheating.”

You smile sweetly. “Sounds like a skill issue to me.”

He’s fuming now and you can’t believe just how serious he’s taking this.

But one more score on your part and the game will thankfully be over.

Billy once again slams the puck down on the table and doesn’t look at you once as the two of you battle it out—him the image of utter concentration.

You then throw at him, “If you let me win, maybe I’ll repay you in sexual favors.”

His head shoots up and the table jingles and he lets out a loud curse.

Billy is still fuming a few minutes later as the two of you browse their other games, until he eyes up a pinball machine and smiles.

You go to walk past it, until he grabs you by the hips and lifts you onto it.

You flush, glancing around, afraid of being kicked out by an employee, until he shoves two tickets into the machine, positioning his hands on either side of you, over-top of the buttons, his eyes staring into your own.

“Skill issue my ass,” he says, pulling the knob back, sending the tiny pin ball flying.

You cover the entire front portion of the game, so there’s no way he has any idea what he’s doing. Until he pushes the button for the right bumper, then the left, left again, right, his eyes never leaving your own.

The scoreboard begins to climb behind you—ten points, thirty, thirty-five, fifty, eventually a hundred, a few hundred. He smirks. “You won the last game, so what sexual favors do I get rewarded with again?”

The pinball tings under you.

You shift and he just continues staring, waiting.

“I…” You trail off. It wasn’t like he had let you win. You’d cheated, like he said. Twice, really.

The machine begins to go wild under you and coins begin to shoot into the dispenser—so many they begin spilling onto the floor.

"You should see what else these fingers are good at playing with." He slides his hands up your thighs until they’re resting over your hips. He pulls you closer to him. “Maybe I should just choose.”

You laugh from nerves. “I wasn’t serious.”

He slides his hands onto your bare waist. “You think I’m letting you out of it that easy?” He steps back finally, scooping coins into his hands, stuffing them into his pockets. “Not likely, sweetheart.”

You stand silently beside Billy as he looks over the larger prizes against the wall behind the counter. They even have an Atari. He’d wanted one for a long time, but after getting told no more times than he could count by his dad, he finally gave up on it. And when he got his car, he didn’t have much interest in wasting his time on anything else. Working on it more than served to take his mind off his shitty life.

He looks to you and you smile up at him, waiting patiently while he makes up his mind.

Then, “You choose.”

Your smile falters. “But you’re the one who won.”

He smirks, then reaches up, running his knuckles along your cheek. “Oh, I know I did. And don't think for a second I don't plan on collecting on that offer.”

You and your mouth. Stupid.

After dinner at a small diner—Billy paying for you again—the two of you return to the motel and once the door has closed behind you, Billy goes to strip right in front of you.

You gasp in shock, turning your back to him. "Can you please stop doing that?"

He slips on his new pair of swim trunks. "You've already seen my ass once, sweetie. What's another time or two?"

He then comes up from behind you, pressing himself against your back and you jolt.

He leans down toward your ear. "Might want to slip your suit on, too if we're going to swim. Unless you'd rather skinny dip?"

You grab the plastic bag which houses your new two-piece and head for the bathroom.

Once you've put it on, you look over yourself in the mirror for a moment, ensuring everything is properly covered. And also mentally prepare yourself for the lewd comments you already know Billy is going to be incessantly throwing your way.

You exit the bathroom, Billy leaning back against the open doorway to your room, arms crossed and his head rolls in your direction, eyes widening.

You're wearing his favorite color—blue. Almost an exact shade-match to his Camaro. He wonders if that choice had been intentional. Your bottoms are high-waisted, but at your hips are small, thin bows, every inch of your long legs on display. The top cups your breasts perfectly, a small bow between them as well.

He wolf-whistles. Then licks his lips and says, "I'll tell you this much, honey, the water won't be the only thing making you wet tonight if I have anything to say about it."

You walk past him. "You don't."

Just as he shuts the door behind the both of you, he reaches up with both hands and undoes both ties at your neck and backside, your top slipping off. You quickly reach up, covering yourself with your hands and he snickers as he grabs your top before you get a chance to.

You stand there, mortified. "Give it back!"

He holds it up above his head. "You want it so bad, take it from me."

You glare up at him, irritation building to a boiling point.

He shrugs, turning away. "Guess you don't need it all that bad then."

Once his back is turned to you, you make a split-second decision and pants him.

He curses, dropping your top long enough to pull his bottoms back up and you grab it, jogging down the stairs to get away from him long enough to get it back on.

You reach the pool before he does and deflate when you see the sign on the gate: Night swimming strictly prohibited.

You turn to go back go to the room, deciding on just watching a movie in bed, instead, after taking a hot bath, but bump into Billy's bare chest.

"What're you doing?"

"The sign says no night swimming."

His brows furrow. "So?" He flips the lock on the gate, stepping past it.

You quickly follow after him, grabbing his arm. "Billy, stop."

He turns back to you, expression that of indifference, clearly not caring about the repercussions of his future actions.

"We could get kicked out for this. And I doubt they'd be willing to refund you for the room tonight."

Your voice is a tone of pleading.

He's silent for a moment, as if he's considering his options, then sighs. "You're right, I'm sorry."

You fill with relief, glad he's listening you for once.

Until he bends down, wrapping his arms around your knees, picking you up. You wrap your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling off of him backward. "Billy, what're you-"

He races toward the pool and cannonballs in, instantly submerging the both of you.

When you get above the surface, he's floating on his back, arms behind his head, flashing you a smile.

"You are such an ass."

You go to swim in the other direction, toward the steps, until you feel his strong arms wrap around you from behind. "Oh no you don't."

You squirm against him and he just laughs as you struggle, turning you around until you're chest-to-chest.

"Let go of me, I want to get out before someone catches us."

"No one's going to catch us. Can you just chill the fuck out for a second? Jesus. You're aware you're allowed to let loose every once in awhile and have fun, right? You don't have to be so uptight all the time."

You stay quiet, ignoring the feel of his hands at your hips, which then move back to wrapping around your back.

He sighs."You're not there. You don't have to act like the woman of the house anymore. You don't have to keep it together all the time with me. You can be whoever you want now; do whatever you want. No one's going to stop you."

Your eyes sting and you tell yourself it's from the chlorine. Not from him having read you so easily.

And then you relax a little."I don't know how," you say softly.

He looks at you for a moment, thinking. "What's something you've always wanted to do, but felt like you couldn't, either because of him, or because you were afraid what everyone might think?"

You search yourself for an answer, but don't come up with anything. There was no point in thinking about things you might've been able to do if you had a different life before. You didn't. You were who you were, and you made your peace with that.

You shrug. "I'm not sure."

He rubs one palm down your back. And then he smirks, and you know whatever he's come up with is going to be the worst idea anyone has ever had. "You ever been drunk before?"

You frown. "That's not really my idea of fun."

"Just answer the question."

"No, I haven't."

He grins. "Want to?"

You debate it for a moment, sure it's a foolish thing to do. Especially with him. "Not tonight..."

"Tomorrow night, then?"

You know it's an impulsive and stupid thing to do, but you know you'll never "let loose" all on your own. Because what you'd told him is true: you don't know how.

You've never had the option to do anything before but what was expected of you. Or, rather, what you expected of yourself, since your dad couldn't be relied on for nearly anything. Other than getting drunk himself. Then you worry: what if you agree, and you come to discover you have a predisposition to alcoholism yourself?

You nearly groan for over-thinking yet one more thing. Just like always.

"Okay," you reply quietly, knowing you will have all day tomorrow to change your mind if you so choose.

He smiles. "Yeah?"

"I said okay." Your fingers brush against his curls at the base of his neck.

He squeezes your hips. "I'll have to get you liquored up so I can finally take advantage of you."

You roll your eyes skyward. "I changed my mind."

"It's called a joke, sweetheart. Stop taking everything to heart."

He glances behind you then. "Shit, what're those doing over there?" He asks with a tone of flat, feigned confusion.

You turn your head to look across the pool and you feel your skin grow hot when you see your bikini bottoms floating atop the water.

You push off of him then. "You're such a perv!"

He laughs and pinches your bottom as you swim away from him to go grab them. So that's why he'd been so handsy with your hips—he'd been busy untying them.

As you put them back on, tying the bows back into place, you look back to him with a heated expression. "So you were distracting me so you could do... That."

You lays flat on his back, floating. "Maybe. But I still meant the things I said: that you need to get over yourself and have some fun. Make a couple bad decisions. Might turn out to be the best thing you've ever done."

You splash him, then get out, heading back up to the room.

Once you've both bathed for the night, Billy exits the bathroom...completely naked.

You reach up, covering your eyes."Will you please stop doing that?!"

He walks around to his side of the bed. "I told you, I don't like sleeping in clothes. So from now on I won't be. Get used to it."

He crawls into bed beside you and thankfully covers up.

You lower your hands, looking at him. "You wore something last night."

"Because last night was different."

You groan. He's going to do whatever he wants. You already know you're wasting your breath arguing.

You nearly threaten to do the same, so as to give him a taste of his own medicine, then bite your tongue, knowing throwing that in his face would give him exactly what he wants.

So, instead, you lean over him smirking, your body hovering over his, your left leg between both of his and he looks up at you with a look of happy surprise. His hand comes up to cup your cheek and your smile disappears at the unexpectedly soft gesture as you awkwardly grab the TV remote from his bedside table and plop back down on your side of the bed.

You hadn't expected such a...sweet reaction. You were just doing it to lead him on and then tick him off.

And it turns out it worked when he speaks. "God, you're such a fuckin' tease. I don't buy the innocent act anymore, so don't bother with it."

You turn the TV on, flipping through the channels. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Billy doesn't get what he wants when, an hour later, you're both lying down for the night, and he's under the top sheet, while you're atop it, but still under the duvet.

"Be a lot warmer if you just pressed yourself up against me again like last night."

You can't see him in the dark, and know he thus can't see you, but you roll your eyes anyway. "Go to sleep."

"I'm not tired. You could always help with that."

You feel him shifting onto his side, then feel a warm hand sliding under your nightgown. You reach down, trying to shove his hand away, but, with him being stronger than you, he just keeps pushing higher until he reaches second base. Well, sort of. His hand merely skims the soft skin beneath your breast, but you huff loudly out of irritation, turning onto your other side away from him.

"Honey, if you wanted to spoon, all you had to do was ask."

He then presses his frontside against your back and you go to get up, until he wraps an ironclad arm around your middle.

"No, that's not my pistol, before you ask. I'm just that happy to see you."

"You are so fucking obnoxious. Get off of me."

He snuggles closer to you. "Mm, I don't think I will."

He becomes quiet then, and it's only a couple minutes later before he falls asleep, exhausted from the long day.

You stay silent, not wanting to wake him and hear more inappropriate comments. So you shut your eyes, falling asleep in his arms. Reluctantly.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader

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loserlvrss · 16 hours

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꒰ 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 ꒱ 김동현

summary : you and your boyfriend were truly opposites, but the saying has always been that they attract, hasn’t it?

genre : fluff, leehan x afab!reader, college!au, slice of life tws : language, zombies (yeah..), pet names, mentions of not eating (could be linked to a eating disorder but also idrk) author notes : cringe couple alert (that should be me) word count : 1.4k

your hands were covered in clay, grey-brown coating your skin. you could feel the uncomfortable, but familiar feeling of it drying on your wrists, and you were glad you wore something you were okay with getting messy; because today you had done so many pieces, you were covered in muck.

you had just finished a vase, the bottom a thick sphere, tapering off as it furthered to the top. you spread the wire, after picking it up from beside you, and ran it along the stone. you picked it up carefully, grabbing the damp sponge to smooth out any finger prints.

pottery was your hobby, and you were glad you majored in art. you loved doing pieces on the wheel, and you loved sculpting unconventional things. it never felt like homework to do, and you often found yourself forgetting all about time and spending hours in the schools basement; dusty and dirty, haired tied back, back and shoulders sore, and sweats caked over.

that being said, you also often forgot to have meals as collateral to your happiness, spend time with your friends, and do things that people would deem normal. you hated the saying that you weren’t like other girls but truthfully you’d rather be in this dimly lit room than a club, like the people your age were.

but there was also one person who refused to let you starve to death in this poorly decorated room. and truthfully, he hated the flashing lights just as much, if not more than you did.

“y/n,” you looked up, a smile plastering to your features at the sight of your boyfriend who had been doing work on his computer waiting for you to finish for the last however long, “you’re done?” you nodded, moving the piece to the side, preparing to take it over by your others waiting to get glazed and fired. “it’s pretty.”

“i was thinking about painting little fishes on it and putting it inside our apartment after it gets graded, what do you think?”

“only if you eat first.” he stated, making you laugh in response, “going to die in this ugly place one day, y/n. i swear i’m going to find your body, and that wheel’s still going to be spinning.”

you walked over to the sink, opting to listen as you felt your stomach growl at the thought of eating something for, maybe, the second time today.

“my girlfriend would be a zombie, oh my god, an artsy zombie. wait, what does that even mean?”

you tried your best to scrape the clay from under your nails, however you both were used to finding it in weird places — laughing about it like it was an inside joke.

“actually, i think you might be hot like that. imagine all the rotting skin — you’d never have to do skincare ever again because it’d be falling off all the time — messy hair, but i think you’d hate this being your forever ghost outfit.”

you made a grossed-out face at his obvious jokes; however if he had said this to, or around, anyone else, it would’ve seemed genuine due to his monotone nature and straight face.

“you’re so strange, donghyun. if zombies were your type, i could’ve done my makeup differently.” you pinched his cheek with wet fingers, “but i love you anyways… even if you wouldn’t make a hot zombie.”

“what?” he exclaimed, “no way you think this!”

you were taken aback, “i didn’t know you were so serious about us being zombies… we could be a silly-little zombie couple if you want.” you giggled.

he scoffed, “how romantic, y/n. truly,”

“shut up.” you stuck your tongue out at him, “what’d you bring today?”

he took out a glass container; because he refused the plastic ones, saying something about the consumption of microplastics and fish long before you two had even entertained the idea of being in a relationship, to which you replied save the turtles and thrusted your fist in the air.

“leftovers from last night.” he stated, uncovering the pizza you two had shared over a couple episodes of game of thrones. you were late to the hype, but you liked the show nonetheless. he had fallen asleep on top of you after your hand had made its way into his shaggy hair, half an episode in, small snores echoing against the drama.

you two woke up on the couch in the morning.

“do you want me to heat yours up?” you questioned, motioning to the microwave that was probably older than either of you. “you know i’d rather have it cold as leftovers… but if you want me t —”

he took a bite, focusing back on his laptop, “don’t worry about it, love.”

you, too, took a bite, “what are you even working on?” you asked curiously, looking over his shoulder.

his face was inches from yours when he turned, “can you chew any louder in my ear?” you scoffed, pushing his head lightly to the side, and mocking an obnoxiously loud chew at him. it was probably the least sexy thing you could do. he laughed, “it’s my research final. twelve pages. i’m writing about aquaculture and its impacts on the environment — did you know that they’re actually bigger than agriculture? not that either are greatly sustainable.”

you admired how different you two were, but you loved listening to him go on and on (and on) about the ocean and fish, even if you had no idea what anything truly meant. he really did suit being a marine biology major in your eyes. his enthusiasm was your enthusiasm.

you did love his little fishtank though. and despite him denying it, you knew he loved that you named them all.

“my final is much better than yours,” you laughed, watching his eyebrows furrow behind his glasses, “all i have to do is make a couple pots — which we’re gonna use for our herb garden after! our green onions and garlic are getting so big!” you cooed, “i was thinking about using their old pots for our basil and rosemary plants, do you think that they would work?”

he took his last bite, using both hands to type now, “i think that would be fine, love.”

“and we can use our new vase as our table centerpiece? your mom’s going to come over for dinner soon, i think she’d like it — maybe i’ll make her one.”

he knew that once you put your mind to it, there was no stopping you, “i’ll get you some pretty flowers for both of them.” he was just glad that you had eaten something before the idea popped into your head.

you pondered, “what’s her favorite color, baby? do you think i should make her a couple mugs or a vase? or a cutesy little plate collection? or a pot? fuck it, i’ll just do them all, she has a gar —”

“y/n,” he cut your ramble off, “you’ve already made her a cutesy plate collection for christmas, and a mug for mother’s day, and a couple pots last semester.”

you pouted, “but those plates are deco —”

“make her the vase, love. her favorite color is purple.” he smiled sweetly, “i’ll help you paint it after you’re done turning it. we can give it to her as a slightly-early birthday present when she comes over, yeah?”

“we’ll get her calla lilly’s, right?” you pleaded.

his hand rested against your cheek, taking a break from the keyboard, “yes, and you can tell me all about the meaning while we stand in line.”

you grabbed his wrist, “great… now c’mon!” he eyed you as you pulled him up with you, “you made me watch that fish documentary with you the other day, so i’m going to show you how to make this vase now.”

“baby, i have three pages left,” he tried to compromise, but you blocked it out, “i’ll just help you paint it.”

“no,” you whined, which he found more adorable than annoying, “she’d love it so much more if you helped me spin it, don’t you think?”

he knew that there was no use arguing with you — after all if this whole art-thing didn’t work out, law had always been your alternative.

“fine,” he gave in, sitting down on the stool as you happily skipped over to grab him an apron and collect an adamant amount of clay, “but if i find clay inside my keyboard after this, you’re in for it.”

“terrified. so scared. i’m shaking in my boots, donghyun.” you shuddered playfully, “i guess you’ll actually get what you want if that happens — a zombie girlfriend — luckily for you, this zombie girlfriend of yours has a toothpick and a lot of love for her living boyfriend.”

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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taesanluv3r · 21 hours

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pas de deux

hip-hop dancer! kim woonhak x ballet dancer! reader (ft. myung jaehyun & lee hyein as their best friends!)

rivals to lovers, a moderate amount of cuss words, lowercase intended, excuse any grammar / spelling mistakes </3

wc: 7,942

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

“woah look at that, first place gets a cool trophy and everything!”

kim woonhak tells his best-friend jaehyun, eyes gleaming as he looks at the new poster that had just been put up on the school’s bulletin board. “guess that means i’ll be going home with a cool trophy then!” the all too familiar snarky voice is followed by the sound of feet strutting towards him. the boy turns around and is met, much to his dismay, with his sworn rival and arch nemesis, yn ln and her own best-friend, lee hyein. see, the young pair had been enemies since the elementary school talent show. he just couldn't believe that his powerful and energetic hip-hop routine tied with some flimsy ballet. and similarly, she just couldn't get past the idea of her graceful performance having the same score as his repetitive moves. and so, stubborn and arrogant as ever, the competition between the two continued on through middle school and up to this very moment right now, in the heart of their shared high school campus, right in front of the bulletin board.

“you wish!” the boy's friend says sternly, inflicting an eye roll from the rival girl. “no wait, he’s right…” hyein begins, her own eyes wandering off to inspect the poorly printed poster. “it’s a duet competition this time” she finishes, a finger pointed at the bold writing that very clearly said:

star academy’s annual DUET competition. pas de deux, or don’t!

“so?” yn scoffs, “i’ll just have to find a partner to beat you with” her words are sharp, her eyes shooting metaphorical lasers through his own narrow ones. the boy just laughs, adjusting the strap of his bag against his shoulder, “if anyone even wants to partner with such a prissy princess like you” his words make her smile, “aw…” she drags out, clutching onto her satin pointe shoes as she takes one more step closer to him, “you think i’m a princess?” the girl’s eyes are big, batting her eyelashes mockingly at the now fuming boy. the silence had become too loud, the hateful pair cussing each other out with just the fiery looks on their faces. “alrighty then!” hyein says, breaking the tension and pulling her friend out of the petty staring contest. “you’ve got a partner to find so let’s get going!” she continues, tilting her head to the side as she drags the girl away. “good luck finding someone to willingly dance with you!” yn yells one last time, catching a final glimpse of the boy’s middle finger up in the air before he was out of her line of sight.

౨ৎ

“i just don’t get it!” yn groans, head falling against the lunch table as she does so. “why won’t anyone partner up with me?” she turns to her friend who’s busy munching on the mystery meat-loaf that tasted a little too good that day. “maybe it’s because you’re an extremely pretentious prick?” hyein says while simultaneously chewing on her food. “ugh, this stinks!” her voice is hoarse from all the complaining she had been doing, “if you weren’t recovering from some stupid food poisoning, we could’ve done it together!” the ballet dancer whines, playfully hitting her best-friend on the shoulder and receiving a nasty look in return. “not my fault! i didn’t even know the cake was expired!” the girl sighs, deciding not to take all her frustrations out on her friend. “whatever, i’m gonna go blow off some steam” yn gets up, grabbing her pink duffle bag and water bottle. “don’t drive yourself insane, yn. i’m sure your knight in shining armor will come to you soon” hyein assures, still stuffing her face with her lunch. the girl smiles at her friend’s sweet words,

“let’s hope that happens soon, the competition is only two days away”

౨ৎ

“bro fuck this!” woonhak’s feet drag against the marble floors as he enters the classroom. “still no luck?” jaehyun asks, mindlessly stacking up his playing cards into some sort of structure on his desk. “seriously! why doesn’t anyone wanna dance with me? i’m literally the kim woonhak. i’m the best hip-hop dancer in this whole school!” the boy exclaims as he slumps down on a chair, the strength of his words sending his friend’s card structure to fall apart. jaehyun sighs, “dude, maybe if you weren’t such an arrogant asshole, someone would actually willingly work with you. just a thought” he ends his sentence with a click of the tongue before beginning to pick up his cards again. “ugh, whatever! it’s just so stupid…” the frustrated boy hunches over, the contact of his lips against the fabric of his jacket muffling his voice. “why don’t you dance with me, jae?” he suddenly suggests, head tilting to the side hopefully, but his friend just sighs once again. “and what? risk hurting the leg i just finished healing again? nah bro, you’re on your own for this one” the hip-hop dancer lets out one last annoyed groan before he suddenly gets off of his seat, causing his friend to look up at him confused. “where are you going?” jaehyun asks him, wondering why he was beginning to grab all of his things. “to get my mind off things, i’ll see ya later bro” woonhak bids, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “don’t stress so much, man. you’ll find someone soon, trust”

“yeah, i better”

the kim boy doesn't know what to do. he had tried everything, and had asked everyone but he still had no one to dance with. that and with the competition being only two days away, it felt as though the boys head was about to explode. sulking, he wanders off to the academy's sports centre, his feet guiding him towards the dance room at the very end of the hall. his mind is all over the place, he doesn't even think to knock before he enters the room, it's usually empty anyways. the boy is lost in his thoughts for a moment, just a moment before the sound of piano enters his ears.

woonhak looks up, quietly shutting the door behind him as he does so and that's when he sees her. yn's eyes are shut, far too lost in the music to even notice his presence. he doesn't make it known either, watching in silence as she twirls on her toes, arms flailing up and down so gracefully as she turned. his eyes begin to glisten, the sheer passion in the way that she moves, 'has she always danced like that?' her feet tapped so delicately against the glossy wooden floors, her energy was strong, it was fierce and yet so vulnerable, like the slightest wrinkle in her light blue leggings could just ruin it all. the boy is in awe, eyes never leaving as they followed her across the room. her eyes remain closed, the piano number getting faster as she waltzed over to one end, preparing herself for the climax of her routine. taking a deep breath, her arms extend and a single leg lifts up into an arabesque. slowly, she returns into the fourth position, one foot crossing over the other, and her arms resting in front of her lower abdomen. yn twirls into a double pirouette, her arms swinging to her side as she leaps into a grand jeté. she's done it, her killing move that's supposed to win her all the roses, but just before her toes could grace the floors again, a loud thud had shaken her out of focus, causing her to slip against the ground and fall.

catching her breath, the confused girl looks up to find the culprit. her eyes wander over to the mirror, narrowing angrily as she watches her sworn enemy pick up the bag he had dropped just a moment ago. the bag that had made the loud noise that ruined her routine. yn gets up from off of the floor, fixing her leg warmers as she walked over to him. "what the fuck is your problem?!" she yells, not giving him enough time to explain before yelling some more. "i was literally about to land that jeté off so clean and then you just had to come in here and ruin it, didn't you?!" if this were a kid's show, there would be cheap cgi steam blowing right out of her bright red ears. "and you're not even gonna say anything? what are you, stupid?!" her breaths get heavier, partially from the routine she had just done and partially from the immense anger she was feeling. woonhak stares blankly at her, breathing softly before he finally speaks.

"woah"

the girl scoffs, shes at a lost for words, the singular person she hated the most interrupts her alone time and the only thing he can bring himself to say is "woah?!" yn's about to throw a fit, veins popping out of her forehead in rage. he notices, finally pulling himself back into reality. "no, it's just..." woonhak finally speaks coherent words, her eyebrow raises, unsure of what idiotic thing he was going to say next. "i never noticed how good you are at what you do" his voice is hushed, as if he were embarrassed to speak any louder, and his words shock her, a faint gasp escaping her lips. the ballerina's features soften, as though all the anger had left her body in the blink of an eye. "huh...?" she asks, still taken aback. "no, seriously. i don't think i've ever seen someone dance with so much..." he pauses, eyebrows furrowed as he searches for the right word, nodding his head slightly when he finds it. "passion. i've never seen anyone dance so passionately like that. the way you move so effortlessly yet with so much energy...i mean i hate to admit it but, that's impressive" yn doesn't understand where this was all coming from, what happened to the mean and arrogant woonhak, why was he being so sweet?

"oh...thank...thank you" shes never been complimented this way before by anyone, much less by her sworn nemesis himself, she didn't know how to react and all she could do was just stare at him blankly. they held eye contact for a moment, it was different from their usual staring contests though. this time, instead of pure hatred for one another, there was some sort of peace. after about a minute the girl feels reality seeping back into her skull, she clears her throat before awkwardly averting her gaze over to her water bottle that was sitting atop the wooden shelf to her right. "so um...what brings you here again?" yn asks after taking a large sip of water, her voice going back to normal as she straightens out her back to look at him. "nobody wanted to be my partner for the competition so i came here to blow off some steam, that's all. i didn't know you were in here...sorry about that" woonhak scratches the back of his neck and to his surprise yn laughs, the boy swears this was the first time he had ever seen her smile- well, genuinely smile at least. "what's so funny?" he asks when she keeps laughing, his tone going back to it's usual intensity. "nothing. i just...never thought i'd be talking to you like this. you know...with out the whole cussing each other out every two seconds thing? i guess it's just kind of...silly" yn bends down to pack up her things as she talks, woonhak watching as he leaned against the barre in front of the mirror. "yeah...i guess so" he says, trailing off and not really knowing how to continue their conversation. "anyways, i'm done in here so i guess i'll leave you alone now...have to find a partner anyways" the hip-hop dancer nods, watching as she begins to leave. the door shuts closed and the boy is left with this pressure in his chest and a weird feeling in his tummy. an idea begins to simmer into his brain and the boy is left in dilemma. 'no, no, it's a bad idea- no, just do it! no don't it won't work no-' he sighs,

"ugh, fuck it!"

within seconds the boy is running out the door, "yn!" he calls out and the girl stops in her tracks. "what do you want now?" she asks, rolling her eyes tiredly as she turns to face him. "well..." he stutters, mind suddenly melting into mush as he hastily gathers his thoughts together. "you don't have a partner yet, right?" she rolls her eyes once more, "woonhak, if you're just here to rub my loss in my face just get it over with already!" the girl remembers he's her enemy, the atmosphere going back to it's competitive ways, juxtaposing the peace they had before. "no, that's not it- just listen to me" he practically begs, a side of him she had never seen before, intriguing. she takes one step forward, so as to invite him to continue. "the competition is in two days, and neither of us have partners and i saw you in there just now, i saw your talent and i just..." he rambles for a moment and then trails off, taking a deep breath in before letting it out again. "okay, have you ever seen honey 3?" his question confuses her, "i mean yeah...it's one of my favourite movies but what exactly is your point here, woonhak?" yn raises an eyebrow, beginning to get impatient. "melea and ishani hate each other but they come together to work on that show and it turned out amazing! i'm just saying...your ballet and my hip-hop..." he drags, nodding slowly in the hopes that she'd get what he was trying to say. yn snickers, looking down at the floor as she slowly makes her way closer to him. "are you suggesting we combine ballet and hip-hop and enter this competition together?" she asks and he nods almost hesitantly. she lets out a long sigh. a sigh that worries him a little bit. "c'mon its just one competition, and i know you want that trophy as much as i do" the ballet dancer's ear perks up at the sound of the grand prize, her eyes trailing up to meet with his own hopeful ones. "i guess it would be cool to combine ballet and hip-hop..." the moment those words came out of her mouth the boy felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. shooting her the brightest smile, a smile she had never seen before, "so you're in then?" woonhak asks one last time, his now shining eyes full of hope. yn rolls her eyes as she nods finally,

"as long as i get to bring the trophy home"

౨ৎ

"so you found a partner for the competition?" asks hyein as she walks closely beside yn, their arms intertwined as they entered the school's cafeteria. the ballet dancer nods, "mhm and we're gonna be busy working on the routine, so i'm gonna have to skip out on our fro-yo run today" she says and her friend hums in response. "so...who is it?" hyein wonders, widening her eyes with curiosity as she inquires her best-friend. "i'm...i'm not telling!" yn replies, a rosy tint painting the tips of her ears and her cheeks as she did so, as if she were embarrassed. suspicious, hyein thought, but she just sighs, deciding to let her friend do what she must and not really wanting to pressure her into telling. she was going to find out anyways.

on the opposite end of the hallway, the kim boy and his friend are on their own journey towards the cafeteria. "c'mon man, you're seriously not going to tell me?" jaehyun complains when woonhak shakes his head for the hundredth time. "no. you'll find out later, i'm not telling you- you'll laugh" the tall boy says, stroking a hand through his dark hair. "ugh fine...i wonder what's for lunch" his friend trails off as they enter the large dining hall, stomachs gurgling slightly as a familiar scent entered their noses. the two guys exhale in unison, "pizza"

"look who it is" the voice shakes the boys out of their trance. "if it isn't mr. hip-hop wonder boy and...and" hyein racks her brain trying to find a good enough nickname for his friend. "ugh, i got nothing. loser" she says finally, a hint of spite in the way she spoke. jaehyun rolls his eyes, "hyein" he responds, eyes squinting slightly. "hey..." yn suddenly speaks, looking up awkwardly at the tall dancer boy. "'sup" woonhak responds in a similar tone, an arm reaching up to scratch the back of his head. their friends look at each other confused, why are they being so...weird? just then the boy's stomach makes another loud noise, to which he clears his throat in embarrassment. "well um...gonna go eat, see ya around" the usually obnoxious hip-hop dancer nods softly at the ballerina before turning on his heels and walking away, leaving the girl and her best-friend standing there dumbfounded.

"see ya around?" hyein repeats his words, a look of blatant confusion present on her face. "what was that about?" she asks, looking over at her best-friend who seemed to be staring off into space. "huh? what do you mean?" yn asks back, fixing her posture and the fold of her knit bolero that was beginning to slip down her arms. "yn, do you even realize what just happened? that was your literal enemy and you guys just interacted without arguing or trying to kill each other!" the girl's statement is dramatic, over-emphasized, and her eyes are wide like she had just seen a ghost. her friend just shrugs, "so?" her voice is calm, but there was a hint of hesitance. hyein just sighs, taking a seat beside the girl who was acting so very...

"strange" jaehyun states, taking a large bite out of his slice of pepperoni pizza. "what is?" woonhak asks after swallowing a bite of his own. "you. you and yn" the boy is confused by his friend's words, "what about me and yn?" jaehyun sighs, pushing away his now empty disposable plate as he takes a sip out of his water bottle before turning to fully face the other boy. "you guys just talked to each other without uttering a single cuss word, and to be real with you bro, the last time that's ever happened was like before the elementary school talent show" the dancer rolls his eyes, shrugging as he did so. "so what? i can't talk to her normally for once?" woonhak was defensive all of a sudden, his friend taken aback by his attitude change. "i'm just saying man...it's just strange, that's all"

౨ৎ

"okay i gotta get to practice, i'll see you at the competition tomorrow, right?" yn asks her friend, looking up from where she had bent down to tie her shoe. "mhm! i'll be there...i really want to know who you're dancing with- i can't believe you still won't tell me! i mean he can't be that bad!" hyein rambles, her arms crossed over the purple note-book she had pressed against her chest. yn rolls her eyes as she gets up, stretching softly before fixing the strands that stuck out of the top knot on her head. "you'll see tomorrow, i gotta go now. love you, see you!" the ballerina bids her friend goodbye, walking away towards the sports centre. "something tells me you'll see me a little sooner..." hyein whispers to herself as she watches her friend disappear, a mischievous smirk playing against her lips.

"i'll catch you later bro. good luck" jaehyun tells woonhak, turning around to leave as the dancer boy entered the sports centre. his steps are slow at first, lifting his phone up to check the time as he walked. "fuck" he cussed, picking up his pace when the numbers on his screen registered in his head. panting, the boy finally makes it to the front of the dance room, the sound of faint music seeping into the atmosphere as he opened the door.

"you're late"

yn looks annoyed, her forehead twitching slightly as she paused the song to glare at him. "by like ten minutes! relax a little" he rolled his eyes, dropping his back-pack down on the floor and taking off his jacket. "yeah, ten minutes of our precious time wasted!" the girl spat, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. woonhak chuckled, "i knew ballerinas were all uptight but damn, you really are something else" his words are laced with mockery as he begins to walk towards her. she's fuming, gathering up all the strength and composure in her body to stop herself from pushing him right out the door then and there. "i hate you" she mutters, a pout taking over her complexion as she turns away from him angrily. the boy laughs, "c'mon princess let's start this thing before we waste anymore of our precious time" the condescending tone paired with the sudden nickname catches her off guard for a moment, a pink tint that matched her pink track-suit growing against the skin of her face. he noticed it, smiling to himself proudly when she wasn't looking.

"and one, two, three and four and jump down, pop and lock. there you go!" the boy claps as he counts, watching her moves closely from the mirror. the girl pants, bending down with her hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. "that was good...finally" he smirks sarcastically, a prideful look on his face when she shoots him a breathy "fuck you". yn stands up straight again, her face is red and stained with sweat from the intense sequence of dance moves she just did. woonhak can't help but laugh, "i didn't know ballerinas could sweat" he teased, tossing her a towel in the process. the girl just sighs, "whatever" but that only fed into his ego, "those weren't even the hardest hip-hop moves and you're already struggling" his words brewed a sort of fire in her veins, "i'd like to see you try landing a grand jeté en pointe" she says sternly, staring him straight in the eyes. the boy scoffs, "your fancy french words don't scare me" she takes this as a challenge, a smirk placed prettily on her plush lips as she throws her towel across the room.

"follow my lead"

he watches as she twirls over to the center of the room, even in a pair of sneakers, yn grows an inch taller as she effortlessly stands on her toes. her arms form a perfect circle above her head as she spins once, then twice before jumping off the ground as though she could fly. without making a single sound, the girl lands right back down on her toes, her heels never once making contact with the wooden floors until she returns to the fourth position, her torso bending forward and her arms stretching back like a swan. the ballerina stands back up again, the edges of her mouth cracking into a proud smile when she looks in the mirror to see the amazed look on his face. chuckling softly, she turns around. "your turn"

locking back in, woonhak's face goes from stunned to arrogant in a matter of seconds. his chest puffed out as he walks over to the center of the room. "watch and learn" he says, eyebrows knitted together as he begins to recall her moves. the boy twirls over before trying his best to stand on his toes, stumbling a bit as he did so. his form almost makes her cringe as he attempts at her signature double pirouette, she winces as he leaps into the jeté, if you can even call it that, on the wrong foot, sending him flying almost stupidly in the air. she could feel the punchline coming, giggling quietly as she pulls out her phone and begins recording. the hip-hop dancer is about to make his landing, his breath hitching softly as he begins his descent onto the floor. for a moment it was perfect, the boy landing right on his toes. just for a split second though, before he slips down and falls right on his bottom and onto the ground.

"ah!" he groans, laying his back down in frustration. yn laughs out loud, walking towards him with the camera right at his face. "stop it" he whined, hands moving up to push her away and then to cover his face in embarrassment. "aw, cheer up woonhak! look, i got you stellar landing on video!" she teases, still recording the poor boy as he rolls around in despair. yn laughs, putting her phone away before reaching an arm out for him to grab and helping him up. "so you agree that ballet is just as hard as hip-hop now?" she asks, smiling in victory as the boy massages his sore feet. he rolls his eyes, "i guess...but in my defense that was probably like an extremely professional move or something!" he argues, not wanting to lose to her. the girl laughs, "whatever you say..." yn pauses to have a sip of her water, trying her best to ignore the way that he stared at her. woonhak shoots her a smile before making his way to the speaker.

"now come on, let's finish this routine"

the next three or so hours are spent perfecting their performance, pausing every now and then to monitor their moves and go over every meticulous detail. when they felt complacent with their practice, the supposed rivals sit down beside each other on the floor, their backs leaning against the mirrored walls as they watched the recording of their routine on his tablet. yn's eyes are sharp as a hawk, not blinking once as she goes through every single second of the duet, breaking into a slight smile when she likes something. similarly, the boy's lips are pursed as he focuses in on the video, letting out little hums every now and then along to the beat of the song.

"aye~" woonhak says as the video comes to an end, clapping his hands in satisfaction before turning to look at the girl to his right who displayed the same pleased expression. "you're really good" yn says plainly, her tone coming off a little shy, perhaps because she had never complimented him before. his breathing gets louder, stunned by the sudden praise. "thanks. so are you" he says quietly, the room falling silent as they sat and stared at each other. the moment lasts longer than usual, it felt like the world around them had just stopped. there was something new about the atmosphere, were his eyes always this bright? , did she always smell this sweet? about a billion questions ran through their heads but not a single word was uttered within those five minutes of solitude. just then, the buzz of her phone snaps them out of their daze. yn shakes her head, blinking rapidly as he clears his throat, looking anywhere but at her.

"shit, it's getting late- um, we better go home and get some rest. it's the day tomorrow so..." the ballerina stutters, something people rarely ever see her do, but he's been seeing it a lot recently. the boy nods, getting up after her and beginning to gather up his things. woonhak waits for her, watching as she carefully puts all her belongings in her duffle bag. he noticed the way she organizes, the biggest things going in first and then all the smaller ones. "okay" yn says, de-tangling her wired earphones as she walks up to him, finally looking him in the eye again. they share an awkward smile before the tension in the room started to feel...silly. the girl laughs softly, covering her mouth with her hand as she did so. cute, he thought, but he didn't have the heart to say it out loud. "c'mon" woonhak says, tilting his head towards the door. the pair walked quite close to each other, making small conversation about their competition that was just one night away. at one point he makes some cheesy joke, it wasn't that funny but it sent the girl into a fit that made her stomach hurt.

they were about to exit the sports centre, his hand already on the handle when a figure (or two?) emerges from the shadows. "HAH! you've been caught!" it's hyein, "so your partner is..." and jaehyun. the supposed rivals' best-friends look each other in the eye before turning to look back at the pair in shock, "YN?" - "WOONHAK?" they spoke, or rather yelled, in unison. the dancers' eyes widen in surprise at the sudden appearance of their friends, her mouth fell open to speak but no words seemed to have come out. "look over there!" woonhak exclaims, pointing at the roof, waiting for his friend, and hers, to look away before grabbing yn's hand and running out the door.

the dancer duo laugh manically as they skipped through the cobblestone of their high school, their feet tapping on the ground in sync as they began to slow down near the gated exit. woonhak tries to catch his breath, his hand still intertwined with hers. yn is the first to notice, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to let go. maybe it was the sunset illuminating against his hair, maybe it was the slight shimmer of his sweat, combined with the giddy feeling in her heart that she just could not describe, but it was perfect. something about this whole sequence of events just felt right.

unbeknownst to the both of them, their friends stayed close by, watching from behind the bushes at the scene unfolding before them. hyein snorts, finding it all to be just so amusing. jaehyun sighs, a joyous look on his face as he turns to the girl. "you thinking what i'm thinking?" he asks, eyebrows wiggling up and down as he did so. hyein nods before her gaze falls back onto the so-called enemies.

"they're soooo into each other"

౨ৎ

that night yn couldn't bring herself to sleep, her stomach swarming with a million butterflies and her mind just clouded with anxiety as she ran through the choreography over and over again. woonhak's night was no different, his dinner felt like it was about to exit through his mouth as he silently danced in front of his bathroom mirror. he could lie and say he was nervous to perform, he could lie and say that was why he felt so uneasy, but the truth was that it was her. no matter what the boy tried to do that night, when he tried to sleep, when he tried to dance, even when he so much as tried to think, his mind would go back to her. yn ln, the so-called arch nemesis that he seemed to be hung up on all night.

eventually though, the dancer duo did sleep. the exhaustion from non-stop practices finally crashing onto their tired teen bodies. a loud beep wakes the girl up, an arm reaching out to turn off her obnoxious alarm. yn lays there for a moment, gathering her thoughts before sitting up, stretching her torso forward until she touched her toes. she yawns quietly as she gets off of her bed, waltzing over to her desk and unplugging her fully charged phone. she smiles softly as she skims through her best-friend's countless of texts from last night, letting out a sigh as a new notification from her calendar pops up.

'D-DAY! take home that trophy, yn!'

over in the neighbouring complex, kim woonhak is woken up by his mother's voice. "woonhak! don't you have a competition to go to?" the woman's words wake him up almost immediately. sitting up straight and reaching to grab his phone from the bed-side table next to him, a large grin takes over his face at the countdown timer,

'just a couple hours remaining! go get em' tiger!'

the rest of the pair's morning was spent preparing for the main event of the day. she took a shower, spreading her outfit out on the bed before taking the time to do her make-up so that it was just perfect. the boy did the same, even taking the time to shave the hair he barely even had on his face. before leaving the house, yn checked her reflection in the mirror, she wore her light-pink leotard and her favourite lilac leg warmers but, to feed into their duet's concept, she wore her hair down and paired her leotard with oversized denim jorts and some sneakers. it was different, definitely something you'd rarely see her in, but it made her smile. something about this new look on her felt good, she felt...

"pretty" woonhak says as he stands before her in their usual dance room at the academy's sports centre. "huh?" yn asked as if she didn't catch what the boy had said, but she could hear him loud and clear, she knew exactly what he said. "pretty" he repeated confidently, much to her surprise, as he walked closer to her. "you should wear your hair down more often" the girl could not believe her ears, her mind going blank as a blush crept up against her cheeks. woonhak laughs at her flustered face, smiling to himself as he passed her and over to the speakers.

"let's run through the choreo once more, shall we?"

౨ৎ

what felt like a split second had gone by and the pair were suddenly back-stage, standing amongst a bunch of other duos scrambling around to rehearse once more before the show had to start. five minutes before the show hyein and jaehyun came by to wish their friends good luck, telling them to have fun and whatnot before they left to get to their seats in the crowd. the show begins shortly after, the mc making a few opening comments before bringing in the first few contestants. yn watches from behind the curtains, her breathing getting unsteady the more she did so. "damn...they're good, but we'll be better, right?" woonhak asks, turning to his left when he hears no answer. "right, yn?" but the ballerina that once stood beside him was long gone, disappearing right before his eyes.

it only takes the boy two minutes to find her crouched down behind an abandoned prop, her knees to her chest and her head resting down on them. "yn?" he calls out softly, taking cautious steps towards the shaking girl. "what's wrong?" woonhak crouches down in front of her, his head tilting off to one side in confusion. he had never seen her this way before, the ever-so-confident girl was...

"nervous?" she nods shakily at his inquiry, slowly lifting her head up to look at him. "i um...i kind of have like...stage fright" the boy is dumbfounded, he looked so lost. how could a star ballerina like yn ln have stage fright? woonhak took a seat next to her, "but you always do so well on the stage? i thought you loved it" he speaks, his tone calm and, to the girl, somewhat comforting. "no, i do. i have no problem when i'm on the stage...it's just the moments before it- like right now, it freaks me out" for some reason it ached him to see her this way. the girl who never showed fear being so vulnerable just for him to see, it made him feel something like a burn in his chest.

"listen..." he starts all of a sudden, moving his body fully so that he faced her. "i know we're sworn enemies and everything but i've seen you dance long enough to know that you've literally got nothing to be freaked out about" the boy's eyes are big when he talks, like he was speaking straight out of his heart. "like those duos out there? they don't stand a chance against us! i mean ballet and hip-hop? they won't see us coming" he ends his short pep-talk with a smile, a contagious one that causes the girl to mimic it. "when did you get so civil? i like this new civil woonhak" yn laughs, finding her rival's switch in demeanor strange. "you make us lose this one and civil woonhak is gone forever" he jokes, earning an eye-roll in return. "well i guess we better win then" she says just in time for their names to be called out through the large speakers that synced with the mc's microphone.

"let's go show them. you know, like the french say..." the boy trails off. "pas day do or don't" she cringes at his awful pronunciation. "it's pas de deux. and no, i don't think the french say that." yn teases, "but yeah..." she shoots one last smile at him before they climb onto the stage.

"let's go show them"

the infamous rivals' entrance to the stage is followed by a round of applause and a couple surprised gasps and whispers. getting into position, woonhak and yn look each other in the eye, mouthing faint good lucks before the music began to play. just as choreographed, the routine begins with a somber piano tune, the girl showing off her technique as she twirls into the ballet portion of the piece. her partner gets into character, moving along with her, their arms and legs moving in sync. the piano music quiets down as the pair begin to circle each other, their feet waltzing coordinately when the musical number gets faster and faster. with fierce eyes the girl skips to the other side of the stage, still en pointe, and he trails closely behind her, catching her in his embrace as she gracefully poses in his arms. the music fades away as the pair stare into each other's eyes, woonhak spins her around once and then twice before lifting her up into the air. yn's arms flail up delicately, her eyes shut and her head titled towards the sky. they hold this pose for a beat, a singular beat before the music changes, her head turning to face the crowd with a cocky smirk and a wink. woonhak tossed the girl down, yn landing right into the starting position of their transition into his style.

the dancer duo part ways, jumping around to hype up the audience for the second portion of their routine. following the beat, they reunite right at the center of the stage, shooting each other a cheerful look before the beat drops and they fall right back into their choreography. the hip-hop tune is loud and up-beat, juxtaposing the previous classical number. woonhak gleams as he does what he knows best, his arms waving energetically as his feet glide smoothly against the floor. yn, who worked extra hard to adapt to his style, follows right beside him, the two of them having too much fun getting lost in the music. coming to the end of the song the boy kicked off the freestyle portion, his legs ricocheting as he finishes his criss cross into a dougie. the girl giggles when he bows down to her, offering the center of the stage for her to show off her own moves this time. yn smiles, taking a moment to let the beat sink into her body before she gets on her toes again. the feeling of doing ballet to a hip-hop track was new, but like all the new things she had experiences these past few days, it felt just right.

yn ends her freestyle off with her usual double pirouette, landing right in front of the boy before dropping into the pop and lock move he had taught her the day prior. woonhak's mouth drops at her sudden dance, head turning towards the crowd who began to cheer all too loudly. the dancing pair nodded at each other, signalling the grand finale of their unexpected duet. to the beat of the song, yn spins over to one end of the stage, opposite the boy who had freestyled his way to the other side. suspense builds as the girl stretches one leg out, her torso bending towards it as she hits the infamous swan pose, hastily getting up on her toes, preparing herself for the grand jeté. she breathes in deeply as she runs, building up the momentum for her final leap. yn's legs at a perfect angle, her arms curving over her pretty face, it looked like she was floating. below her, woonhak had hammer-timed half-way through the stage, striking a pose reminiscent to that of michael jackson's as he awaited his partner's landing. about a second later yn lands soundlessly on the tips of her feet, wasting no time before twirling once and twice, finally reaching his embrace again. the song comes to an end, woonhak and yn holding eye contact for a moment before turning away from the crowd, hands intertwined as they sashayed further into the stage. they stopped, turning back to face the audience as they ended their performance off with a deep curtsy.

౨ৎ

"hell yeah!" woonhak cheered as he and yn made it back-stage. she laughs happily, lifting both her hands up for a high-five, which he gladly returned. the duo shared gleeful conversation as they caught their breaths, heading straight to their water bottles to quench their thirst. being that their performance was closer to the end of the event, it didn't take long before the mc's voice struck through the speakers once more, inviting the contestants to join him on stage for the awarding ceremony.

nervously, the ballerina and the hip-hop dancer make their way back onto the stage of their school's auditorium, waving slightly when they make eye contact with their best-friends in the audience. the pair sat down beside each other along with the other contestants, who were complimenting each other and wishing each other good luck. "the judges have decided, and i've got all the scores right here in the palm of my hand" the mc speaks, his mic ringing faintly at the feedback. "but first, the prizes!" he says, moving to the side to reveal the medals and the giant gold trophy. yn's eyes twinkle at the sight, mouth almost watering at the thought of having such a pretty trophy to add to her collection. woonhak notices this, chuckling to himself at the girl's longing expression.

before long, the mc speaks again. this time, to finally announce the winners of the school's annual duet competition. "at third place..." as usual, he drags out his words, inflicting suspense- and impatience- from the contestants and the audience alike. "hikaru and bahiyyih!" the crowd cheers as the female duo get up from their seat, a short dark-haired girl and a taller blonde who did a modern dance performance. they got up on the podium, being awarded the bronze medals before posing for some pictures. "second place..." yn gets anxious, only two more winners left. woonhak grabs onto her hand, causing her to turn to him confused. he just smiled, squeezing her hand in his own as a means of reassurance. "jungwon and riki!" as the runner ups get onto the podium, suspense fills the atmosphere. the ballet dancer and hip-hop one hold their breaths, eyes shut as if to escape from reality. "and in first place...an unexpected duet..." their eyes open once more at the mc's words, it can't be...

"woonhak and yn! congratulations!"

the world stops for a moment and they find themselves drowning out the sound of loud cheers and claps. "dude, that's you! go!" the contestant behind them says, tapping the shoulders of the stunned pair. alas, they get up, finally breaking into large grins as they make their way up to the top of the podium. "congratulations, you two" says one of the judges as he hands each of them a gold medal before finally handing the boy the golden trophy. woonhak catches yn's envious eyes through his peripheral vision, chuckling before nudging her arm making her look at him. "here" he says, letting her hold the grand prize all to herself for the cameras.

"winner, winner, chicken dinner!" jaehyun cheers as he and hyein walk over to their victorious friends. "congrats guys!" the ballerina's friend says, handing them each a single rose. "spent my allowance on fro-yo...that was the best i could get you guys" she said, scratching the back of her neck. "thank you, hyein-ie!" yn exclaims, wrapping her friend up into a big hug. "no problem, girl. and i'm so proud of you- first place!" the boys laugh from beside them, "damn yn, i guess you really do always get what you want" jaehyun jokes, causing her to roll her eyes at him. "what princess wants, princess gets!" woonhak too, teases, patting the girl's head in the process. "whatever...." she trails out, her eyes wandering down to the trophy in her hands.

"what's wrong?" the hip-hop dancer boy asks, his face softening as he looked at her. "nothing....it's just..." yn looks up at him again, pushing the prize onto his chest. "you keep it" his eyebrows furrow at her words, "no..." he begins, pushing the trophy back into her arms, "you keep it. you're the one who wanted it so bad" she scoffs, not wanting to succumb to him, "no you!" their friends watch in silence as the rivals, if we can even call them that anymore, tirelessly bicker, pushing their shared prize back and forth towards each other.

"fine!" the boy finally says, putting an end to their short-lived argument. the girl is about to scream in victory but is interrupted when he starts to speak again. "i'll keep it....if!" woonhak emphasizes the if, the ballerina gulping as he walked closer to her. "if you let good ol' civil woonhak to take you to the movies this weekend?" what was meant to be a clear statement came off as a hopeful question, the boy biting his lip anxiously as he awaited an answer. she wants to tease him, she badly wants to say no, but there's this pathetically hypnotizing look on his face she just can't refuse. "alright. but only if that means civil woonhak is here to stay forever" she finalizes, proposing an end to their on-going rivalry. woonhak smirks, "why? got a little crush on him or something?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows menacingly as she glared at him in annoyance. "shut up before i change my mind about our date" her voice in monotone now, her face expressionless. "that's not a no~" the boy continues to joke, only stopping when she had balled her hands into fists, threatening to have a go at his face. "okay! okay! i'll stop! don't hurt the face- anything but the face, please!" he pleads and she laughs. "so i'll pick you up tomorrow at 6?" he brings up the date again, smiling sweetly at the ballerina who just nods. "come late and i'll kill you"

"of course, princess"

౨ৎ

"who's civil woonhak, again?" hyein whispers to the boy beside her, watching as their friends get lost in their own world, forgetting about the fact that they were still standing there. "beats me" jaehyun says, "but something tells me they don't hate each other anymore..." the girl nods in agreement, a moment of silence shared between the two.

"called it"

the end.

finally finished this fic! i've been planning n writing it this whole week, i can't believe she's finally done! TT reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated! hope u guys enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it <3 also if ure a dancer, apologies for any inaccuracies TT

#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor imagines #woonhak #woonhak x reader #boynextdoor woonhak #bnd x reader #bnd woonhak

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pommpuriinn · 1 day

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݂ ໋ ・゜* 𓈒 BREAKING POINT

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ synopsis ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ - with the recent controversy with Hybe and its sub label some hurtful comments were said about Joohyung that caused her to hit her breaking point

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ A/N ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ - this is very angsty and sad it almost made me cry at times, sorry that it takes me so long to write for Joohyung :(

Coming back into reality after performing your heart out was always the hardest thing. Especially with Sihyuk and another heejin are saying about groups inside and out of the company. Joohyung was beyond pissed, like no one has ever seen Joohyung this mad before nor even during the trainee days. Currently text messages from Sihyuk and Heejin was released and they didn’t say much about txt, but only saying that Sihyuk already wanted to debut another group even though txt was only a month old. Confirming that he really didn’t even care about them from the beginning which already isn’t a good start and Joohyung was seeing red. The thing that threw Joohyung completely off was the conversation of Heejin wishing she could’ve had Joohyung before they made the final line of txt, but also wishes she was a few years younger than she would have done anything to get her even if she was already set to debut with txt. The cherry on top was Sihyuk offered the idea of Joohyung switching from txt to ador’s future group, basically throwing Joohyung around like a toy anyone could play with. Heejin even talked about Joohyung and Beomgyu’s relationship and how she’s thankful she didn’t take Joohyung because “she ruined the illusion for her male fans and would’ve been a burden to control”.

Sihyuk was willing to overwork Joohyung even more and not consider the group’s feeling nor Joohyung’s, and he was just going to do it without even asking Joohyung. Plus Heejin calling Joohyung “too old” even though she was just 21 when she debuted. Then saying Joohyung ruined a “fantasy” that she never entertained for her male audience.

Everyone felt the tension as they all walked through the Incheon airport coming back from Belgium. Joohyung was walking ahead not holding on to any of her members nor walking next to them, and she didn’t want to entertain anyone nor did she accept the fan letters. Luckily, Soobin took the letters for Joohyung. The car ride was even worst, none of the members said a word as they themselves were also going through the emotions. “Can you stop by my apartment, please.” The driver nodded towards Joohyung. Yeonjun risen his eyebrow kinda confused on what Joohyung needed since they had to go straight to the company building to practice for the upcoming tour. He was getting a bad feeling.

The car came to a stop behind the apartment complex building. Joohyung got her things stepping out of the car, “what are you forgetting?” Yeonjun’s question stopped Joohyung from walking further. “Nothing. I’m not going.” Joohyung didn’t face them. “But it’s the concert-“

“I don’t care!” She snapped at Yeonjun. The members winced at the harshness of her words. “I don’t fucking care anymore! We work too damn hard for his ass to not care about us!” They have never and I mean never seen Joohyung this distressed. “Look, Joohyung-ah I’m sure it was just the heat of moment type of thing he cares about the group.” Their staff member tries to reason with her. “If he did care he wouldn’t have already had thoughts of wanting to debut another group when we barely got out of the hell hole you guys called training.” Joohyung got close to the staff’s face. Immediately Taehyun rushed out of the car and got between them. “Noona.” Taehyun shaken voice called for her. “They called me a burden and someone who ruins fantasies…and a toy they can throw around.” Joohyung broke down in tears into Taehyun’s chest.

At this point all the members had tears in their eyes. Hearing the reality that has happened from their distressed member. “They wanted to take me away from my members.” Joohyung sobbed. One by one got out of the car squeezed Joohyung into a hug. “We wouldn’t allow it Joohyung.” Yeonjun sniffled. “You’re not burden, you’re far from that.” Soobin caressed her head. “Don’t listen to them mine Jooie. You don’t ruin anything they’re just bastards who know nothing.” Beomgyu gave her multiple kisses on her cheek trying to comfort her. Kai was scared if he talked that he will break down as well, so he opted to just hold her tight wanting to squeeze the anger and sadness away.

The staff member quickly texted Eunha to come right away and at least stay with Joohyung at her place. Eunha raced over and not even 10 minutes later she was there. “Oh Joohyung.” She instantly pulled a tear stained Joohyung into her arms. As she was hugging Joohyung, Eunha also squeezed Taehyun’s shoulder for reassurance. “I think it’s best for you guys to continue on with the concert practice session without Joohyung. I also made sure for them to cut it short for today since it’s been…a hell of a day.” The members nodded, they didn’t want to leave Joohyung but they knew they had their duties to attend to. “Don’t worry, I’ll take extra care of her.”

The boys felt like lost puppies without Joohyung. “She has never miss a single schedule for 5 years.” Kai was empty on the inside. “I know Huening, but we have to practice even harder for noona.” Soobin tried his best to somehow lighten the mood, but it wasn’t working. “I…I have never seen Joohyung this…broken before.” Yeonjun signed, replaying the whole scene again and again.

All of their staff members go the text of Joohyung not attending the practice for today and…further notice. The staff members had to work fast on the possibility of Joohyung not participating in future schedules for her mental health maybe even the whole tour. The staff felt the sad emotions that oozed out of the boys when they walked into the practice room.

“Ok, let’s try this new formation.” Their choreographer suggested, the boys moved into their new places. Taehyun felt like something wasn’t right with the formation, he looked around the members and realized; ‘where is Joohyung going to stand?’

“Um…where is noona’s position?” Taehyun asked. The room went silent and the staff members looked at each other basically asking who’s going to break the news to the group? The boys started to feeling the energy of the room and immediately started having panicking thoughts. Finally one of their protocol team members spoke up, “ah…guys, due to the recent events with Joohyung we don’t think she will be mentally ready to continue with the tour. So it’s better if we prepare and plan ahead with new formations, and-”

“No! We can’t go on tour without Joohyung! Are you guys crazy?” Beomgyu lashed out. “Moa wouldn’t accept this!” Yeonjun felt betrayed. “Let’s, let’s call it a day everyone.” The boys were in denial about the thought of Joohyung going on hiatus, but at the same time they couldn’t blame her with everything she just went through.

Eunha kept Joohyung company for a couple of days helping Joohyung cope with everything. Joohyung has stopped crying after the third day, but she was still in her head about the events that happened prior. Joohyung ate little by little, stayed in her room in the dark, and kept on hugging her cats for comfort. Everyone thought keeping Joohyung and the boys separated for a bit was for the best for Joohyung, because whenever Eunha tried talking about the members Joohyung would start full on crying. Eunha still kept the boys updated about Joohyung, and they also agreed that it would be the best for Joohyung. She will come see them when she’s ready, and even though they didn’t see each other in person the boys would always send her cute encouraging messages.

Joohyung did have intrusive thoughts about leaving the company along with the group because she started believing she was a burden to the group. Luckily Eunha would talk her out of it immediately saying ‘tomorrow x together wouldn’t be the same without Joohyung’. Even though Joohyung was slowly getting better she unfortunately develop having panic attacks with the thought of facing everyone again. To help with calming her down Eunah would let Joohyung hug her while she caresses Joohyung’s head, another method was having Poki or Bibi(her cats) on her lap while she pets them.

The members really started worrying because the tour starts in a week and Joohyung hasn’t fully felt comfortable to continue her schedules. You could tell the boys weren’t themselves throughout this whole practicing period, and the staff felt for them.

That was until hearing the door open while they were practicing ‘Deja Vu’ and seeing a pale looking woman with a hat covering half her face. “Hi.” Joohyung waved, looking up at her members. The room erupted in cheers from her members who dropped everything and ran to her with open arms. Feeling the warmth again made Joohyung immediately burst into tears. “I’m sorry.” She sobbed into their chest. “No J-Joohyung.” Yeonjun shook her his ‘no’ with tears falling down. “It’s not your fault Joohyung-ah.” Taehyun mumbled into her shoulder.

After pulling apart Joohyung gave each member a long hug. They all gave Joohyung a tight squeeze while expressing how much they missed her. Some staff members were crying at the scene in front of them, but what really broke them was Joohyung and Beomgyu reuniting. After Soobin finally let Joohyung go Beomgyu pulled her into tight hug while crying to her, “Jooie, I-I miss you so mu-much.” He hiccuped. “I didn’t protect you hard enough, I’m sorry.” Beomgyu sniffled, he felt ashamed of himself for not shielding Joohyung from all the negativity. “It’s not your fault Beomgyu.” Joohyung gently pulled away from the hug to wipe his tears. “I’m never letting any of those bastards hurt you ever again.” Beomgyu pouted, and pulled Joohyung back into the hug.

After the emotional reunion they all sat down in the middle of the practice room and Joohyung started catching them up. Throughout her time away Joohyung did end up going to the hospital for a check up physical and mentally. She was diagnosed with a panic disorder after the extreme anxiety and stress she went through during the time. Joohyung even expressed her the dark thoughts she was having with the members, but she lighten the mood with telling them she would always read their messages to get her through the day and those bad thoughts. Joohyung knows it’s too early to come back, but she can’t let them do this tour without her. Her members and moa really give her the strength to move forward.

Joohyung was thankfully for her ability to pick stuff up fast during the one week she had to perfect everything, of course she wasn’t too far behind because they have been preparing weeks before. It still wasn’t easy for Joohyung, as her body was getting used to her old routine again. She felt more tried than usual and she tried not to show it, but her members caught on quickly especially while they were practicing in the actual arena. “Don’t push yourself too much noona.” Kai rubbed Joohyung’s back. “Here drink some water.” Soobin opened a water bottle for her. Joohyung accepted the water bottle and took small sips before they continued their practice.

Another obstacle she faced was after they did their group introduction Joohyung felt her chest tighten, and started experiencing shortness of breath. She was getting a panic attack. Joohyung closed her eyes and tried controlling her breathing, but after it wasn’t working she winced and went behind Beomgyu and started hugging him. Beomgyu knew what was happening and gently pulled Joohyung forward to hug her while whispering ‘it’s going to ok’ and pecking her temple.

Throughout all of Joohyung’s new found struggles she was still able to pull through and make it to the first ever show of Act: Promise. Their whole team was extremely happy that the group was able to come out of such a dark time. Even though there is still some struggles the group is facing they are just happy that they have each other to lean on, and still put on an amazing show for their moa.

#txt 6th member #txt additional member #kpop added member #kpop additional member #kpop female addition #txt female member #txt female addition #kpop female oc #txt added member #txt scenarios

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lil-oreo-cookie · 2 years

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•[Toffee’s Timeline]•

It’s Been Five Years Since The Battle For Mewni

That means it’s been five years since Toffee died. In honor of his memory (and because he’s the protagonist of my AU), I present to you all his timeline (with as little spoilers as possible)

Note: Septarians age a lot differently than Mewmans and other monsters, so keep that in mind when reading—

** Continue Reading for Detailed Timeline **

Baby/Child Toffee, ~0-11

Torrence Ambrose of Septarsis was hatched during the reign of Skywynne, Queen of Hours, to his mother Mylanie. To put it simply, she’s a peacemaker who is one of the only Septarians hoping and striving for peace with Mewmans. From the very beginning, Mylanie encouraged her son to exercise his mind and prioritized intelligence over the brute force and strength that other Septarians (*cough*Seth*cough*) seemed to consider all was needed to succeed.

As a child he was incredibly shy around people and tended to stay close to his mother, but when it was just the two of them he flourished with curiosity and it was clear from the beginning that he was a quick learner and incredibly smart.

As he got older he began to gain his own independence, though still incredibly close to his mother. He maintained beliefs reflecting hers, but was still incredibly young and hadn’t fully grasped the situation at hand. Consistently witnessing how opposed the viewpoints between his mom and the Septarian ruler’s were, despite the two being friends.

I could go into more but honestly there’s a lot here so I’m going to continue—

But… Torrence was edging 13 when his mother died.

Braid/Best Friend Toffee ~13-15

At age 13 after Mylanie’s death, Torrence met the Princess of Mewni, Eclipsa, when she was 11. While weary of her at first, being brought up in a peacemaker’s home caused that weariness to quickly fade. The two became fast friends, achieving the title of each other’s best friend incredibly quickly. They were each other’s Star and Marco, except they maintained their best friend status and it never turned romantic.

Eclipsa’s even the one who coined the nickname Toffee, calling him nothing but and using it as an affectionate nickname for her bestie.

Now this is the part where I step in as the creator and put a big ol’ SPOILERS tag on this babyyy because the details are expanded upon ✨later✨. But basically after Eclipsa is crowned the two distance… and eventually fall out… and it’s bad. Really bad. Eclipsa is a huge factor in all of Toffee’s… well you know.

Bad Boy Toffee, ~17-20

So THIS is a redesign of the Toffee we saw in Meteora’s lesson, really dipping deep into that hardcore bad boy aesthetic. Honestly the show adding this aspect of him brought loads to his character.

Now don’t get me wrong, he does NOT like Seth in my AU, at all, and does not respect him, but because Seth was friends with his mother, he and his sister took him in after her passing, AND Seth really appealed to his hurt regarding the aftermath with Eclipsa and fed into it (turning that hurt and sadness into bitterness and anger), Toffee subconsciously bought into that belief system without even realizing how starkly he was changing.

He also rejected the nickname Toffee given to him by Eclipsa (bc he hates her), and went back to being called Torrence around this time (except when Glossaryck ruined it), but I’m going to keep calling him Toffee for simplicity

Honestly bad boy Toffee is so fun but again this is a timeline overview and everything will be given in more detail

Historian Toffee, Early 20’s

In Daron’s AMA she stated that Toffee was a historian that researched magic and the Butterfly Family like no other. That’s still true, and here’s where that time as a historian comes into play. He takes a break from being in the military or whatever and pours his soul into this plan he has.

Due to being (ex)friends with Eclipsa, he knows all about Mewni Castle’s secret tunnels and uses them constantly to “borrow” books from the library. He not only wants to verify what Eclipsa told him in youth (The Whispering Spell, other magical traditions, etc), but also learn new information to perfectly enact his plan.

General Toffee & Canon Toffee Mid-late 20s

The Toffee we knew from the show, the lizard we know and love. Obviously, he reclaimed the name Toffee during this time and began using it as his name. I don’t think going into detail with this section is warranted but I do have a lot of backstory as to what happened with Comet and such (which again, Spoilers) and just his overall mentality and motivations during the events of the show. Here’s one thing though:

After being humiliated by Moon in front of his troops, he not only permanently retires from his title as a general but straight up leaves Septarsis entirely, and planned to never show his face there again, even after he got revenge against Moon and completed the plan he started so long ago.

And yeah I don’t have to explain Canon Toffee,, the lawyer businessman as he is 💕. Just in case the late 20’s is confusing, the way he dresses and styles himself makes him look a lot older (35 or something) but in actual Septarian development (for my AU obviously none of this is canon) I’d say he’s around 27-28.

As of right now in present day, Toffee is still basically dead. Trapped in this half dead state because not everything of him was destroyed, inside a jar tucked away in Star’s closet to prevent him from regenerating and causing more trouble.

Ovelia Dragonfly, the secondary protagonist of the Septarsis-Dragonfly AU, being the eccentric collector she is found the jar and asked Star if she could keep it,, WHICH IS IT’S OWN COMIC but I’m not entirely through with Ovelia yet.

This is so so out of order, I haven’t finished the buildup to Ovelia finding the jar yet but hey, today is July 15th, the anniversary of the Battle for Mewni, I just had to post something Toffee related on the five year mark of his death.

Thank you Toffee for being my favorite character in all of media, you are deeply missed.

🥀Toffee of Septarsis; 2015-2017🥀

#septarsis dragonfly au #star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #alternate universe #toffee of septarsis #toffee #eclipsa butterfly #svtfoe au #Battle for Mewni #septarian #This took so much time but it was so worth it #I love Toffee so much as a character #He could’ve done so much more if he only had time #very proud of this #Toffee my beloved

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soullessjack · 8 months

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been thinking a lot about soulless jack’s arc and the various way it crashed through the ceiling and one of those ways is how there was absolutely no fallout from it in s15.

between the events of Game Night and Moriah, dean opened up an fbi file that listed jack as armed + dangerous with multiple charges, he and Sam literally tracked Jack through the trail of bodies left behind with every new target. the woman swallowed by the earth was literally televised live for half of the normal world to see, and not only did jack’s second trail of bodies with the Grigori literally get him on CCTV footage eating a heart, but it also landed him as the wanted armed + dangerous fbi target. I don’t know if Chuck reversing the lie command also reversed the world’s memory of it all or what, but Jack had like an actual impact on the normal world that just isn’t there in S15.

Nobody seems to recognize him once he’s back, not civilians who saw him telekinetically bury a woman alive on national television, not police officers or actual FBI agents aware of his still-active file or the CCTV footage of him eating a raw heart. Nothing. Of course it’s because everything Jack goes through is for plot advancement and nothing else, but that only adds to how frustrating the sheer amount of loose ends in his arcs is.

While I’d personally rework the entire season to have more focus on Jack, I do think there was some potential to revisit it in Gimme Shelter especially, where the main villain is literally a Christian Jigsaw who punishes those she deemed “wicked” and “corrupt” in almost the exact same way Duma had manipulated Jack into doing. Even in the way the episode canonically plays out, Jack and Sylvia do have some connection: both dealing with loss, grief, hopelessness, helplessness, and disappointment. Now the episode doesn’t exactly bank on their emotional connection as a plot stronghold for when Sylvia is revealed to be bad, like Sam and Ava in All Hell Breaks Loose, but the ghost of a narrative foil still haunts it anyways.

Sylvia is obviously meant to be some sort of foil or mirror for Jack in the sense that she reflects what he did and what he’s currently suicidally guilt stricken about. As usual, Jack tries to reach out and help Sylvia because of their similarities, because she’s in the same pain he is in, to which she refutes: “you’re just a scared little boy trying to make his daddies happy.” The mirror for Jack’s past actions is basically belittling his guilt-driven attempt to make things right with Sam and Dean and the rest of the world. The hopelessness, helplessness and disappointment they related to each other is exactly what Jack feels within his own situation.

I mean, he’s literally suicidal. He’s actively working towards killing himself as a last resort for redemption and atonement without there even being a guarantee that he’ll actually get it in the end.

|🚧|

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colesawicn · 11 months

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mr. rover x cream soda

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augustinewrites · 1 year

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does gojo ever freak out or worry ab reader when she’s alone on missions? obviously she can handle herself & knows what she’s doing, but he gives the vibes that he’d be internally panicking 😭

“hey, welcome back!” gojo grins, quickly shoving a half melted spatula to the bottom of the trash can.

“hi,” you murmur, tipping the bill of your cap down as you close the door behind you. odd. he doesn’t think he’s seen you wear a hat before.

“how was it?” he asks, flicking off the stove and closing in to welcome you properly with a kiss. well, he attempts to. you immediately take a step back, avoiding his embrace. he definitely doesn’t remember a time you’ve ever done that.

“i’m all sweaty,” you tell him, toeing your boots off and heading straight toward the bedroom. you say hello to the kids before shutting the door, the lock clicking into place.

“are you mad at me?” he asks as soon as he warps into the room.

“satoru!” you startle, staggering back into the door. “get out!”

“nope,” he hums, closing in on you. “we sleep in the same room and you know that i don’t respect boundaries.”

with that, he reaches over and pulls the baseball cap off your head.

“satoru, please don’t freak out—”

he freaks out.

he grabs your chin so you can’t turn away, inspecting the sutures lining your temple. “this is deep! are you okay? why were you hiding it from me?”

you swat his hand away, frowning. “i’m fine, and i wasn’t hiding it. i just didn’t want the kids to see. speaking of, did you guys eat dinner yet?”

“what grade curse was it?”

“special. i thought i smelled something burning—”

“you’re only grade one. why would they—”

“only grade one?” you repeat with a scoff. “don’t say it like that. you know the only reason i’m not special grade is because the zenin’s—”

“because the zenin’s are holding you back until you join them. they’re dicks, babe. that’s old news,” he finishes, tapping his foot impatiently.

“listen,” you tell him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just didn’t get out of the way fast enough. it’s just a cut. i’ve had worse.”

“well, next time they call you up for assignment, i’m coming with you,” he decides. “we’ll get a sitter for the kids and make it like a date night.”

“whoa,” you interrupt. “you’re inviting yourself on my assignments now? “do you think i’m not good enough?”

“well when you come home hurt, yeah!”

he regrets it as soon as he says it.

and he hates the way you’re looking at him. you’re hurt, and it shows. “wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“hey…”

he says your name, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head.

_____

freshly showered and changed, you pull your robe on, exiting the bathroom. gojo’s sitting on the bed, waiting with his head in his hands.

“you know i think you’re more than capable,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t making a dig at your skill. you’re incredible.”

“i know,” you hum, dumping your uniform into the basket.

he looks up at you, apologetic. “but if anything happened to you, and you were really hurt…it would be my fault.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, sitting beside him.

“it is,” he insists. “and i could never forgive myself, because i’m supposed to be the strongest.”

(and what’s the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t protect the people he loved most?)

“satoru,” you murmur, smoothing a hand across his back. “you have such a big heart. i’m dating you because of your heart— well, mostly your abs but also your heart. ou already take on so much for everyone. and i need you to trust that i can’t take care of myself. i don’t want to be another burden to you.”

wordlessly, he takes your hand and presses it to his chest, so you can feel his heartbeat.

“you are my whole heart. if i lost you and i could have stopped it, like i could’ve stopped—” he purses his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i just can’t lose you.”

“and you won’t,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “now let’s go have dinner.”

“ah. about that….”

_____

“alright, dinner’s served!”

you the kids exchange a look.

megumi leans close to you, whispering, “can we get sick from this?”

“go on,” satoru encourages, picking up his own sandwich. “it’s a spam sandwich! i used to eat these all the time before i met—”

“you’re really lucky you met her,” the twelve year old grumbles, peeling the bread back to look at the burnt piece of spam.

tsumiki, ever the people pleaser, takes a bite and chews very thoroughly before swallowing with great effort.

“um…the smoke added a nice hickory flavour to the spam.”

“okay, we’re getting pizza,” you decide, shooting your boyfriend an apologetic look.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk angst #keeping up with the fushigojos #keeping up with the fushigojos: extended cut!

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navybrat817 · 2 months

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Sergeant Snuggles

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky wants you to get some much needed rest. Word Count: Over 1.6k Warnings: Fluff, swearing, humor, reader is tired, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and the best boyfriend, okay?). A/N: I'm tired. I want Bucky to fix my schedule. Again! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You should’ve taken the afternoon off. You knew that. There was no reason for you to remain in the building beyond your earlier debriefing. The mission you completed was successful, but you hardly slept over the last few days because of it. Describing yourself as tired was an understatement.

But you had a tendency to stretch yourself thin at times and were stubborn, a trait Bucky both loved and fought you on.

The beautiful brunette you were lucky enough to call your boyfriend leaned over in his chair as you stifled a yawn. “That’s the fifth time you’ve done that in the last two minutes,” he whispered low enough to not draw attention.

“Glad you’re keeping count,” you whispered back, feeling his steel eyes linger on you as before he turned his focus back to Steve. At least he didn’t say he told you so after you turned down his suggestion this morning to call in.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, the stubble on his strong jawline catching your attention. He hadn’t shaved in a few days. Hardly slept either. Still looked gorgeous.

How was that fair?

“Just take a break,” he urged, tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear. “It’ll help.”

“No, I’m fine,” you argued, picking up your drink and downing the rest of it, as if it would give you a boost. “We have a busy day. I don’t have time to use one of the pods.”

S.H.I.E.L.D. had recently built a lounge area for agents to rest and recoup during the day and between missions. Some of the pods were large enough for two people to rest comfortably together. Why not cuddle with your soldier for a short time? As nice as it sounded, you had to get through a few more hours of work.

“I love you, but you’re about two seconds away from putting your head on the table,” Bucky whispered, your heart skipping a beat. It did that whenever he professed his love for you. But you were also feeling a bit grouchy, even though he was only trying to help

“And I love you, but I’m about two seconds away from flipping this table,” you hissed before Steve cleared his throat. “Sorry,” you added sheepishly. It wasn’t his fault the mission cost you precious sleep.

The blonde’s brow furrowed. Like Bucky, he knew you pushed yourself too hard some days. You had to though. You weren't a super soldier like they were. “It’s okay,” he said before he continued.

Exhaustion veiled your normally bright and attentive gaze. The Captain had a commanding presence, yet your eyelids drooped as he kept talking. You weren’t sure if you were able to fall asleep sitting up and you didn’t want to find out. With a shake of your head, you had to try and fight the waves of drowsiness that crashed in your mind and washed over your body.

It was a losing battle. You used to laugh at memes that talked about meetings that could’ve been done in an email, but it didn’t seem so humorous now that you were living it. Why didn't you just stay home?

You jolted when your boyfriend suddenly placed his hand on your thigh and you wished you could say you blamed it on his touch. “What? What happened?” You asked. Did you fall asleep or just zone out?

“The meeting’s over,” he replied, nodding to the now empty room. You hadn’t seen anyone walk out. That wasn’t good.

“Shit.” You rubbed your temple, an ache building in your head. You’d have to apologize to Steve later because there was no way you retained anything he stated. “What time is it?”

Bucky checked his watch with a slight frown. “It’s 10:55.”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck that.

“Yeah.” Bucky’s lip twitched in a smile when you realized you said that out loud. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck that.”

You huffed, your head cloudy again before you slumped in your chair. There was no way you’d make it through the day, as much as you wanted to try. You were useless in this condition. “Okay. I may need a nap,” you admitted.

He smiled softly as he pushed his chair back and held out his hand. “I had a feeling. That’s why I booked us one of the pods before we got here,” he said. It shouldn't have come as a surprise. He knew you better than you knew yourself. “Let's go.”

You pouted, but took his outstretched hand. “Are you sure I can't just try and suck it up?” You asked, covering your mouth with your other hand when you yawned yet again. “There’s still work to do.”

“And you're not going to finish it right this second,” he stated firmly, the drop in his voice making your throat go dry. He meant business when he used that tone. “You're going to let everyone else handle it, and they can handle it, and you are going to get some rest.”

You loved this man for putting up with and caring for you. “Yes, Sergeant, but I still don't want a nap,” you grumbled, wondering just how whiny you sounded.

He chuckled, the sound making you giggle. It was infectious. “Just twenty minutes. It’s all I'm asking for to start. You worked hard and deserve a nap,” he said, sneaking a soft kiss in when you pouted again. “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me? Please?”

Something vulnerable flashed in his eyes before he blinked it away. Nightmares still plagued him and you discovered that he rested easier with you beside him. Your presence didn’t always chase the horrors away, but it helped. Maybe he needed this nap just as much as you did.

What kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

“Okay, Bucko. For you,” you smiled, leaning into his side as he guided you down the hall. You’d do anything for him. “You know, my caffeine let me down,” you added.

“I know, baby.”

“It’s a betrayal. It was supposed to stimulate me,” you mumbled.

“I know, baby,” he said again, going along with your tired rambling. “But we both know I stimulate better than that ever could.”

“Yeah, you do,” you smiled. He was very good at that. “And this is a good excuse for us to cuddle.”

“As long as you get some sleep, you can have all the cuddles you want,” he promised.

A tired smile touched your lips. “I should call you Sergeant Snuggles.”

It was at that moment that Sam walked by, the smirk on his face telling you that he at least caught the nickname you just came up with. Your gaze flickered to Bucky’s profile, catching the clench in his jaw as he stared at his colleague and friend. It was a sexy look, but now wasn’t the time to think about that. And Sam, the good man he was, didn't say a word. He nodded and went on his way.

Which likely meant he pocketed the nickname to bring up at a later time.

“Sorry,” you whispered, hoping you hadn’t embarrassed him.

Fondness took over Bucky's blue eyes when he swung his gaze back toward you. “Don't be sorry. You can call me whatever you want,” he assured you, taking you into the longue.

The low light created a peaceful atmosphere and you found yourself longing for relaxation as Bucky brought you to the pod furthest in the corner. He helped you in before he climbed in beside you, his massive frame making you feel safe and warm as he held you against him. His fingers moved along your back in a slow and soothing pattern and your breathing began to match his after a minute. It made it easy for your eyes to slip shut.

You still couldn’t believe that you had someone in your life like Bucky. The man did everything in his power to put your needs first and make sure he took care of you. Not because he didn’t think you were strong or capable enough to do so yourself, but because he recognized that you didn’t have to do everything alone. That was why he was your partner.

In work, in love, and in life.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you sighed, wishing you were awake enough to say how much you appreciated him. “Sorry for whining and bitching and being stubborn.”

“You don’t need to thank me and you didn’t whine or bitch. I’ll give you stubborn though,” he said, casually tossing a leg over you before you could move away. If you asked it of him, he’d lay on top of you like a blanket. “Just get some sleep and don’t push yourself today, please. I’ll feel a lot better if you relax.”

You’d feel a lot better, too. “One more question and I will.”

He hummed as he waited for you to speak.

“What's the policy on sex in the pods?” You asked, resting a hand on his chest and feeling his heart start to race. “For future us, for the record. I love you, but we’re not trying somnophilia here today.”

He exhaled a laugh against your forehead before he kissed it, warmth spreading like a balm through your head. “I love you, too,” he whispered. Dragging his lips down to yours. “And I’m sure we can find a way to make it work, but not until you rest, okay? Need you at one hundred percent for that.”

“Yes, Sergeant Snuggles,” you replied, feeling him hold you a little tighter before you finally got some much needed sleep.

I hope this reads well. 🤣 I'm le tired. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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horrorartsworld · 3 months

Note

I just read your fic with LuciferxReader in heat and I'm just in love with your writing 🖤🤤 May I suggest Lucifer*Reader with reversed roles? Maybe Luci is in heat/in a rut?

Only if you want to tho

OFC I WANT TO!! Luci being in a rut is so yummy in the worst way hehe

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

in a rut

lucifer/f!reader

warnings: 18+ nsfw, breeding kink, bit of daddy kink, pet names, masterbation, horniness and more horny bits, some lovey dovey aftercare from the king of hell himself, not proofread

Lucifer’s time of the month would always drive him up the wall in the worst ways.

He was an avid one to do the deed at least once or twice a day, but when he was in a rut….well…you could barely get him away from you.

Always so touchy and saying the naughtiest things in your ear especially when you two were out on business, he wanted nothing more than to have you squirming next to him all while you attempted at keeping the sweetest smile in-front of fellow colleagues or angels.

Though this time was different, no fun and games, just Lucifer alone in a big quiet house while you were away.

He huffed, seated at his desk with his body lazily leaning back in his desk chair, manspreading with his hand racking through his blond hair completely frustrated with his hard-on straining harshly in his pants.

Thinking why’d you have to go on this business trip now?! Out of all the times you could’ve gone…you chose now!?!

Those questions lingering in his mind for a moment before his sex-craved thoughts fogged them out. “Fuck it,” he whisper growls to himself, finally not dancing around it anymore and eagerly unbuttoning his pants to free his aching cock. The pace of his hand unrelenting right off the bat, his thumb not wasting time to swipe over the red angry tip to gather any of the pre that was leaking out, smearing it down his shaft. His head falling back against the headrest of his chair in utter bliss, his lips parting slightly letting out shaky breaths. The adrenaline of his arousal coursing throughout his veins by the second causing him to buck his hips upwards to give him the friction he craved. His mind wandering to his sweet girl and how he craved to breed this rut out of you.

How you’d take it like the good girl you were for him and let him fill you with his children.

He lost himself on his dirty thoughts of you, his moans getting increasingly louder, filling the space of his office room and soon the rest of the house.

“Almost thereee…” his voice comes out gruff and strained as he gets closer to a much need orgasm with all this build up, but what he didn’t know is that a delicate figure had come home early from her trip and now was standing in the doorway watching her lover get off desperately.

You clear your throat once you hear him almost at the edge, making Lucifer jump surprised and slightly ashamed that he was caught in this state.

"Sorry love am i interrupting?~" Your soft yet loving voice teases him as you approach him seeing the sweat shining on his forehead and his chest heaving rapidly.

His cock now throbbing painfully that you basically put his release on pause for the moment. “N-no actually your just in time…sit on daddy’s cock won’t you?”

Patting his lap with a sense of fervor which you couldn’t deny knowing by just the look on his face that he was deep in his rut. You gracefully straddle his lap pulling your panties to the side, his cock slipping inside with ease making him cum instantly, though that doesn’t mean he’s done with you yet.

Making you gasp as he suddenly starts fucking his cum deep inside of you. “Mhmm, didn’t except this huh? Daddy still having it in him to fuck this little cunt of yours? make you pregnant?” He mumbled out watching your face contort from a surprised expression to a pleasure filled one.

“P-please make me pregnant…” You whimper out in a haze, gummy walls stretching with his length while he helps you come down onto his cock.

Those words alone set a fire ablaze in Lucifer, not realizing what you’ve done once he spins you around bending you over his desk. “Oh i am sweet girl…not gonna stop till i’m sure i’ve fucked a baby into you” He rasped, pounding deep into you now with his tip nudging your g-spot.

Slowly moving his hips faster and faster until nothing can be heard besides your whines, the occasional grunt from Lucifer and the sound of skin slapping together. “Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” You cry out, becoming addicted to this feral and primal fucking that felt like it was rewiring your brain on a fundamental level. Eyes rolling into the back of your head as you claw at his desk underneath you while you felt your orgasm approach.

“Fuck…you’re close huh? Shhh it’s okay princess, let it out for daddy” He manages to coo like he wasn’t fucking you senseless, leaving small kisses on the back of your neck.

With a loud moan of his name, you came hard around his cock with your thighs quivering, whimpering all sorts of mess as his rhythm didn't let up, going just as hard if not as fast as before, desperately chasing his second high. "L-Luci, mphmm.. 's too much" You whine with the overstimulation consuming the ecstasy you had just felt,.

“Almost, just a bit longer sweetheart, you can do it frrrme, be a good girl for daddy” He pushed it out with his cock throbbing inside of you, so close to release.

One more was all it took until he finally emptied all his seed into your womb, his rhythm finally slowing all while he kept his cock inside for a few more minutes trying to keep his cum inside. “There we go….fuck I love you” He places a bunch of kisses all over your face, not being able to hold in his adoration for you as he pulls you off of the desk embracing you tightly against his sweaty body.

You giggle softly with your cheeks burning up with the sudden affection, “I love you too Luci.” He knew now it was time to take care of his sweet girl after taking all that from his rut. Picking you up he takes you to your shared bed, laying you down to cuddle you close and just feeling so whole with you in his arms again and not on some dumb business trip.

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s #☆⋆｡𖦹 lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer hazbin #lucifer morningstar smut #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

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hllywdwhre · 2 months

Text

Revenge - Tommy Shelby

Summary: Reader takes personal offense over Sabini’s attack on Tommy

Warnings: arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, reader leaves a message written in blood, smut, creampie, light degrading, oral smut (f receiving), overstim, p in v, let me know if I missed any

Notes: I made this text post about protective reader and decided to write it lmfao. I want Tommy with a feral woman. Thank you to @slut4thebroken for proof reading, encouragement, and suggestions💖

MDNI, 18+ only

You weren’t quite sure how it had happened.

Scratch that.

You knew exactly how it had happened.

Your father and Tommy had worked out a deal when Sabini had first started trying to intimidate your father. A bride in exchange for protection and both of them walked away with extra allies when the inevitable war against Sabini broke out. You’d protested the marriage at first, screaming that you were more than just a political pawn for your father to sell when he needed help, but it went through anyway.

You had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. Sure, Tommy was distant and seemed obsessed with work, but you knew you could’ve ended up in a much worse situation. He treated you with respect, never let you open a door on your own if he was around, always had a protective hand rested in the small of your back, and… the sex was great.

Perhaps the thing you appreciated the most, was that he didn’t expect you to become the housewife you had feared you would be reduced to. You were your father’s only child, meaning when he died, you would become leader of his gang. You were a gangster the same way Tommy was and he seemed to realize that and respect it. You helped out with the daily runnings of the Peaky Blinders and helped with the daily runnings of your father’s gang at the same time. They both recognized your potential and weren’t afraid to use it.

It wasn’t until you were sitting in a family meeting about a year after your marriage that you realized you had grown to feel more than just okay with the marriage.

Tommy was a closed off individual and through the entire year you had been married, you felt like you were just starting to finally get to know the real him. You never pried because he never pried in your life. If you had general questions, neither of you were afraid to ask them, but anything more was left up for the person to tell. You had more questions than answers still, specifically about the matching scars on his cheeks, but you didn’t dare ask. He hadn’t asked about the scar that ran from your right shoulder blade down to your spine, so you didn’t ask about his scars.

It was a common occurrence for Esme, Ada, and Polly to sit with you at one of the desks in the betting shop, whispering things to you during family meetings to fill in any gaps and answer any questions you may have had.

“Alfie has informed me that the Sicilians are being provided aid by Sabini, in the form of cars and housing,” Tommy started, causing Arthur to let out a loud groan of frustration.

Before you could get dragged into hearing any more of it, you turned your head to Esme who was sitting next to you.

“Sabini’s a prick, I know that, but what has he done to us?” You asked quietly, your eyes still flickering back-and-forth between Tommy and the rest of his family as they spoke about what to do next.

Esme began explaining exactly what Sabini had done. How he and five other men came after Tommy in the dark of night, how he’d ripped out a tooth, sliced his cheeks, and beat him to an inch of his life.

The rage that settled inside of you was your first hint that you had grown to genuinely care for Tommy as more than just a friend and (amazing) fuck buddy. Your jaw remained clenched and set for the rest of the meeting, but as soon as the meeting was called to end, you wiped the look from your face and forced a calm expression to take over.

You stood up and walked over to Tommy, forcing a small smile to your lips,

“I’m not really feeling all that well. You go with your brothers for a drink, I’m just going to head back home, okay?” You said, meeting his eyes so he wouldn’t have a reason to not believe you.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to look for any sign you were lying. You had been fine that morning and fine two hours prior when you sat down for the meeting, but he had no reason to believe you were lying so he simply nodded, placed a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer to him, and kissed your forehead.

“I won’t be out long. Ask Frances for anything you need, okay, love?”

You nodded and the forced smile turned to a genuine one,

“I will, promise,” you told him before stepping away from him and waving goodbye to the rest of the family.

Yes. You had truly gotten lucky when it came to who you had been forced to marry.

The entire ride back to the Arrow House, you were silent and going over your plan in your head. You knew you’d have to earn Tommy’s trust back after this, but you didn’t particularly care. You were a force of nature on your best day. You were lethal when you were angry.

Once you arrived back, you immediately headed upstairs to yours and Tommy’s shared room. The marriage may have started off with the two of you in separate rooms, “I’m called the devil, but that doesn’t mean I’m some sort of monster. You can sleep in your own room until you’re comfortable sharing a bed,” but it didn’t take more than a couple weeks for you to eventually join him in bed.

Damn those blue eyes, full lips, and that jawline.

You grabbed a small bag and threw the first set of clothes you laid hands on into it, then, much more carefully, a dress. You grabbed everything else you needed and headed to Tommy’s office next.

I’ll be back soon. I’m sorry for lying, but I’ll be back.

You signed the note and left it in the center of his desk where you knew he would see it, held down by his ashtray.

As quickly as you had entered the house, you left it, getting right back into the car with the driver Tommy had employed for you. You told him the name of a hotel in London that you knew was just outside of anyone’s territory.

The drive seemed to pass by too quickly and soon you were saying goodbye to the driver and sending him home for the night. It was barely 7 in the evening when you got up to your room.

“If there is a God, please let me get through this. I’ll make it up to you… somehow,” you said quietly.

The beading on the dress swayed loudly around your body as you pulled the dress on. The pins in your hair seemed to be extra noticeable against your scalp. The straps on your shoes pressed into your skin more than usual. The blade held against your thigh and hidden by your dress seemed to refuse to warm up. Your left hand felt entirely too light with your ring missing.

You knew it was only your mind playing tricks on you. You’d worn this outfit before and it had always turned heads, which is exactly what you wanted.

You needed Sabini to notice you.

You greeted the cab driver politely as you stepped in and ignored the way his eyes seemed to follow you a bit too closely.

The doors of the club were held open for you and you made your way to the bar and took a seat, knowing you were just playing a waiting game now.

You could feel eyes on you. The wife of Thomas Shelby in Sabini’s club, hours away from Birmingham, far out of Peaky Blinders territory or her father’s territory. You stuck out like a sore thumb, even if you would have blended in during any other scenario.

It felt like an eternity passed before you finally saw the man that made your blood boil, but one glance at the clock above the bar told you it hadn’t even been an hour.

“You seem lost. I thought we had made it clear that your kind weren’t welcomed here,” Sabini said once he was in front of you.

A charming smile graced your lips and you looked up at him,

“My kind?” You questioned, playing innocent.

“Yes. Your kind. You’re the wife of Thomas Shelby and I don’t appreciate him ignoring the last warning I gave him and sending you-“

“I wasn’t sent here,” you stopped him, lifting your left hand and pushing a piece of hair that hadn’t fallen back behind your ear, “and I’m not really a Shelby or a Blinder, am I?”

His eyes were drawn to your hand and noticed the lack of a ring you wore and he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Is that so? I was under the impression the two of you were lovebirds.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your lips and looked away, trying to come off as shy. When you looked back up to him, you hoped the look on his face meant he was intrigued and believing you.

“Perhaps we could talk about it somewhere else… somewhere private?” You asked him, batting your eyelashes as you did so.

Gods help you. The smirk he gave you made your stomach twist and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face, but patience was something you’d adopted a lot of.

“Allow me to show you to my office then,” he said, offering you a hand which you forced yourself to take.

He guided you through the club and towards the back. Some amount of luck seemed to be on your side as his office was behind the stage and provided some cover for any noise you might make. Even more so as you noticed a window just large enough for you to be able to crawl out of.

Once the door was shut behind you, he sat down behind his desk and motioned for you to take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side.

“Trouble in paradise, I take it,” Sabini said as he poured you both a drink.

“It was never paradise to begin with,” you replied, thanking him for the drink and taking a sip.

You had grown used to Tommy’s Irish whiskey and the bourbon he gave you wasn’t nearly as smooth going down.

“Was it not? From what I’ve heard, you two have quite the fairytale. Gang leader’s daughter married off to another gang leader, uniting two empires.”

“That’s not the way I see it,” you lied.

“And how do you see it?”

“A desperate father sold off his daughter to a desperate gang leader in an attempt for the both of them to gain more power and disregarded the woman’s wishes,” you replied simply, shrugging your shoulders.

“And so you’ve come to London for what?” Sabini questioned, wanting to hear you say it.

“Because I think we can help each other, Mr. Sabini,” you said, downing the rest of the bourbon and standing up.

His eyes followed your movements, his eyes trailing up your body before resting on your legs again.

“And how do you think we could help each other?” He asked.

You moved to stand in front of him, placing one leg over the side of his and straddled him, placing your arms around his neck.

“They trust me, Mr. Sabini. They don’t suspect me of anything,” you started. The shiver of disgust that rolled up your spine due to his hands trailing up the back of your thighs was one he apparently took as excitement as he gripped slightly at the backs of them, “I can tell you everything and, in return, I get out of my marriage once they’re all gone.”

“They don’t even realize the ticking time bomb they’ve got in their fingertips, do they?” He asked and a chuckle left your lips as a genuine smirk took over.

“They don’t…” you said, trailing your hands down his chest and then up your thigh, trying to make the move appear seductive. Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of your knife, “and neither do you, apparently.”

His eyes widened and he realized the trap he had walked into at the same time as you pressed the blade of the knife to his neck.

“I’d say that if you ever threaten my husband or our family again, you’ll regret it, but you won’t be,” you told him, unable to resist pausing for a touch of dramatic effect before adding on, “Never fuck with a Shelby.”

In the next second, you were quickly slicing the knife across his neck and flinching back as his blood coated you.

You knew your next move was morbid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It had been morbid for him and five other men to attack your husband when he was alone. It was morbid for him to rip out his tooth. It had been morbid for him to slice his cheeks. It was just as morbid for you to quickly and quietly clear off his desk, dip your fingers into his blood, and leave a bloodied message across his desk.

Revenge is a scorned Shelby

As soon as the message was written, you grabbed one of the coats from the coat rack and slipped it on, then crawled out of the window. The coat was long enough to cover all of the bloodied mess that was now your dress.

Sabini is dead.

That seemed to be the only thing you could think of as you were driven back to the Arrow House. It wasn’t the first time you had killed a man and you knew it wouldn’t be last.

But you hadn’t told anyone about this time. You hadn’t told anyone your plan, where you were going, or why you were doing it. You had also just started a war.

You weren’t surprised to see almost every light in the house still on when you arrived, and you made sure to slip the cab driver a little extra for the long drive.

You hadn’t risked staying in London longer than you needed to. You had gone into your hotel room, grabbed your bag, and promptly left, only taking the time to slip your wedding ring back on when you were in the cab.

When you stepped into the house, Tommy was in the hallway. All he saw as you stepped in the door was you, in another man’s coat, your wedding ring still on your finger, but your hair and makeup done much differently than it had been you had left.

You stayed silent as you stared at him with nervousness written on your face.

He put out his cigarette and quirked an eyebrow at you, a silent prompt for you to explain yourself.

Your silent explanation was to undo the tie on the coat and let it fall to the floor, revealing your blood stained dress.

“I need a fucking drink for this one,” Tommy grumbled, motioning for you to follow him. He guided you to his office and poured both of you a drink, handed you your glass, then sat down in his office chair. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Do you want the short version or the long version?” You asked, a smirk on your face as he looked up at where you still stood across the room.

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle and shrug his shoulders,

“Humor me. Short version first,” he told you.

“About a year ago I got married, and tonight I started a war.”

Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and running a hand over his face, “Long version.”

“About a year ago, I got married. Over the past year my husband has been nothing but a respectful gentleman, making it nearly impossible for me not to fall for him when you combine it with his fucking blue eyes that could bring the devil to his knees,” you started, feeling the hint of a blush creep into your cheeks, which you knew he noticed by the way his eyes flicked to your cheeks and then back to your eyes, “then today we had a meeting with his family where he mentioned Sabini. When I asked, his sister-in-law told me about what Sabini had done to him. About how my husband had been beaten to an inch of his life and brutalized, leaving him permanently scarred, and I knew I had to make the bastard pay.

“So, I lied to my husband and said I didn’t feel well. I went home, packed a bag, left him a note saying I’d be back, and went to London. I rented a hotel room where I changed into a fancy dress and did my hair and makeup, then I wrapped a knife to my thigh and slid my wedding ring into my bag and went to The Eden Club. News of a Shelby woman spread quickly and Sabini showed up to question me within an hour. I lied to Sabini, told him that I didn’t want to be a Shelby and that I had never wanted to be one. He took me back to his office and I sat on his lap and made him think I was about to cheat on my husband when I slit his throat and made sure he knew it was because of what he’d done to my husband. I left a message on his desk, went back to the hotel, grabbed my bag, and then headed back to our house.”

Silence filled the room for a long moment as Tommy stared at you. His eyes were unreadable as he watched you.

“What did the message say?” He suddenly asked.

“Revenge is a scorned Shelby.”

“Nothing about the Peaky Blinders?” He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t Peaky business,” you answered confidently, watching him just as closely as he watched you as he stood from his chair and came to stand in front of you.

“Was it not?” He questioned, taking the untouched glass of whiskey from your hand and setting it on the desk before turning back to stare you down.

“No. It was Shelby business, but not Peaky business.”

“Explain.”

“He didn’t just harm a Peaky Blinder. He harmed a Shelby, my Shelby.” Your gaze was unwavering as you held eye contact with him. You wanted him to know you meant your words. He was yours, and the protective touches on your back when you were in public and the way he intimidated and glared at any man who tried approaching you was all the proof you needed to know that you were his.

“So I’m your Shelby?” He asked as he took a step towards you and continued to do so until you pressed against the office door.

“Yes.”

“And that means you’re mine?” He questioned, his hands now pressed against the wall on either side of your head.

You could feel that you were walking into some sort of trap, but you didn’t have a way out of it right now. All you could do was be honest.

“Yes.”

“Then you should know something about what it means to be mine.”

“What’s that?” You asked, your breathing getting shorter as he lowered his face so it was level with yours.

In a second his hands were on your waist and he had you picked up against the wall with legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

“My Shelby is to never come home wearing another man’s coat again,” he said, pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

You don’t know what reaction you had expected from him, but being pinned to his office door and him kissing you hadn’t been one you had thought of. Your shock wore off after half a second and you returned the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close.

“You’re not mad?” You asked against his lips.

“At you starting a war?” He questioned, leaning down and beginning to trail kisses hastily down your neck.

“Yes,” you replied, leaning your head back to give him more access.

“Livid,” he said with no hint of joking in his voice.

“This is quite the punishment,” you replied sarcastically. A moan fell from your lips as he nipped at your pulse point.

“Oh, I’m livid,” he said, looking up at you, “but also extremely turned on at the thought of my wife slicing a man’s throat over me and coming home still covered in his blood.”

You weren’t given a chance to respond before he was kissing you again. Your hands came down to his tie, pulling it loose before starting to work at the buttons of his waistcoat.

He didn’t bother setting you down, only turned the two of you around and walked you over to the couch in the office. He laid you down on it and then pulled the waistcoat off before leaning back down between your legs and kissing you again once. His lips started trailing down your neck again while your hands went to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Someone’s impatient tonight,” he teased as nipped at your skin again.

“You’re the one who pinned me to the door after I revealed I killed a man for you,” you replied in the same teasing tone as him. You undid the last button of his shirt and pushed the fabric off his shoulders, his undershirt following a second later.

He reached his hand to the side of your dress and unzipped it, pulling the fabric down your body while his hands grabbed hold of your underwear, stockings, and garters in the same move and pulled them off, leaving you completely naked underneath him.

He stared and looked over your body a moment longer before running his hands up your thighs and giving a gentle tap to your thigh,

“Up,” he said, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

You did as told though and sat up, leaving him enough room to lay on his back and pull you up to straddle him,

“Was killing a man not enough work?” You teased, not actually minding if he was going to have you ride him. At least it meant you wouldn’t be subjected to him teasing you when all you really wanted was for him to fuck you.

“That’s cute,” he said sarcastically, gripping your thighs and attempting to pull you further up his torso, “that’s not where you’re sitting tonight.”

The man was no stranger at using his mouth to make you see stars, but you’d never ridden his face before. You looked at him, the question obvious on your face.

“Seriously?” You asked even though you knew by his face that he was.

“Seriously. You were enough of a leader to go after Sabini, you’re enough of a leader to sit on my face. Up,” he repeated again while his grip on your thighs tried pulling you forward.

You did as you were told this time, shuffling forward until you were straddling his face. You weren’t given a choice of when to sit as his hands came to your hips and pulled you down, forcing your full weight onto his waiting mouth.

If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was Thomas’ ability to use his tongue and lips in more than just outsmarting his enemies.

His tongue trailed through your lips, his hands keeping your hips in place, while his tongue slowly explored you at first.

It had only taken a couple weeks for you to crack and make the first move on Tommy, joining him in bed one night when you’d decided you could trust him, and you’d been insatiable and addicted to him ever since, though he never complained. He’d spent the first couple times figuring out every move that made you tick and every name that made your cheeks flush and used them to his advantage at every turn.

His tongue was a gift with the way he knew exactly how to use it. He dragged it up and down between your folds, drinking in every bit of your arousal before focusing on your clit, alternating between quick flicks and long drags.

Tommy’s hands on your hips began guiding them, silently instructing you to take control. You didn’t hesitate in going along with what he wanted you to do and began rocking your hips. One of your hands trailed to his hair while your other went to lay on top of one his that gripped your hip. You hadn’t realized the volume of your moans until you felt the vibration of his moan against your clit.

Your hips jerked at the added stimulation and he hummed against you purposefully, his eyes never leaving you as your hips sped up, chasing your own high. Within moments you could feel it approaching and your grip on his hair and hand tightened, moans of his name falling from your mouth like a prayer.

“Please, fuck,” you cried, whimpers falling from your lips, “Tommy, Tommy…”

Your high crashed over you a moment later and you felt Tommy’s movements begin to slow down as you rode out your high, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath.

You went to move off of him, but his grip on your hips tightened at the same time that his tongue started speeding up again.

Your moans of pleasure turned to whimpers of over stimulation and you squirmed against him, but he didn’t let up. Your hips jerked as you tried moving away from him, but all it did was add to the stimulation.

You could practically feel him smirking underneath you as he continued on, watching as your eyes clenched shut and you relented yourself to letting him torture you so beautifully.

If it wasn’t for the way your body was on edge from not being given any type of break after your first orgasm, you might have felt slightly ashamed at the way he was able to bring you to your second orgasm so quickly.

And then your third.

Tears were freely falling from your face when he finally slowed his movements to a stop and helped you to lay down on your back.

He trailed soft and slow kisses along your thighs and stomach to help bring you back down to earth. When his lips reconnected with yours, you returned the kiss, letting your eyes fall shut at the surprisingly tender moment.

“Next time you want to start a war, at least let me know your plans,” he said, causing you to open your eyes and be met with a smirk dancing across his lips, “and don’t doubt my punishments.”

You could’ve smacked the smirk off his face if it wasn’t for the fact he had turned your entire body into mush.

“Think you can be a good girl and handle one more?” He asked.

Your cheeks flushed at the praise and his hands moved to his belt and pants, pulling them off after you nodded your confirmation.

Once the rest of his clothes had been removed, he gently lifted your legs and positioned himself between them. He was gentle as he pushed inside you, but the smirk on his face from the way your voice cracked when you moaned was obvious.

The stretch was familiar at this point, but it didn’t mean you didn’t need the moment he gave you to adjust. When you nodded your head, he started moving.

Tommy knew your body like he knew his own after your time together. His hips immediately changed position as he started thrusting, making sure to hit the spot inside you that added to the ways your legs shook underneath him.

He leaned down and placed his elbows on either side of your head, capturing your lips in a kiss right as a moan parted through them. One of his hands came back to cradle the back of your head and his fingers tangled into your hair to keep you close to him.

His other hand went to one of your legs and pulled it up so it rested in the crook of his elbow, causing him to hit even deeper inside you.

The action caused you to let out a high pitched moan and you wrapped your arms around him. Your next moan broke the passionate kiss the two of you had shared while your nails raked down his back.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked, beginning to speed up the movements of his hips.

“Y-you,” you moaned out, your back arching underneath him.

“Say my name. Who do you belong to?” He repeated.

��Thomas Shelby,” you answered and dropped your head back.

“Good girl. You’re my fucking wife,” he moaned out. He sat up, using one hand to keep your leg up in the same position while his other hand went to your already over sensitive clit, “all mine. No other man gets to touch you, look at you, or even fucking think of you. It’s my cock that you’re whimpering over right now, and it’s the only cock you’ll ever be whimpering over again.”

“I’m yours, Tommy,” you repeated, your voice breaking as moan after moan fell from your lips.

“Then cum for me. Be a good Shelby wife and make a fucking mess on my cock just like how you made a mess of this war tonight,” he commanded.

You didn’t need any more encouragement from him as your fourth orgasm hit you, causing your back to arch again and your nails to run down his arms.

His moves start to become more sloppy and his pace sped up as he began to chase his own high, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock only driving him closer to the edge.

“Want to feel you Tommy, please,” you moaned underneath him, “please, cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” he swore out. His hips pushing against yours as his high hit him and his arms came down to either side of your head again while he shoved his face into your neck, completely claiming you as his own while his cum filled you.

His hips slowed as he rode out both of your highs and your arms came to wrap around him, placing a gentle kiss on the side of his head you could reach.

Once the two of your breathing had slowed down to a normal pace, he moved to push himself up and your legs around his waist tightened along with your arms.

“Don’t. Not yet,” you said in a quiet voice.

“I’m going to crush you, love.” He placed soft kisses along your shoulders between his words as he tried warning you.

“I’m a grown woman. I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” you replied and began running your nails softly along the shaved part of his head, knowing the motion worked on him every time.

“Stubborn,” he falsely chided, but relented and relaxed back into your hold.

“Little late to the party if you’ve just worked that out.” Your reply causing both of you to chuckle. “Remind me to start more wars if it means you fuck me like that every time.”

His hand came down and gently slapped your thigh in response while a burst of quiet giggles left your lips.

“Stubborn and a brat,” he teased, sitting up again and carefully sliding out of you.

“Too bad you’re stuck with me,” you responded with a smirk.

“I don’t think of it that way,” he said as he stood up and wrapped his arms under your waist and legs before pulling you up into his arms.

“How do you think of it?” You asked him as he carried you across the hall and into your shared room.

“I think I’m lucky enough to be married to a woman who killed for me over a years-old attack even though we’d never even said that we loved each other.” He set you down in the middle of the bed before crawling in next to you and pulling you into his chest.

A bright blush rose to your face as he pointed out that you had never even said you loved each other, even though you had admitted to him earlier that you had fallen for him. You didn’t know how to reply immediately and you turned in his arms to look up at him, his arms staying locked around your waist.

He didn’t seem to expect you to reply though, because he leaned in to you, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and sweet, as if he was trying to communicate what your actions had meant to him without having the words to say it.

“I fell for you, too,” he finally admitted, “I don’t know when it happened, but I know that I realized it tonight. The panic I felt to see your note and to see you come home covered in blood. The anger I felt over seeing you another man’s jacket. The way I felt when you revealed what you had done and why…” He trailed off, looking down at you and seeming to try and memorize every part of your face, “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him.

“I’m yours and you’re mine.”

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #Thomas Shelby x reader smut #tommy shelby #Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x reader smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy #cillian smut #cillian murphy x y/n smut #cillian murphy x fem!reader #cillian murphy x reader smut

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k4vehrtz · 3 months

Text

WHORETICULTURE. various jjk men / sub gn. reader

synopsis. filled with lust for some fucking guy.

who. nanami kento / satoru gojo / toji fushiguro / heian era! sukuna . ✦ . what. one night stand / unprotected sex / mild religious themes/ thigh riding / slut shaming / against a wall / mean dom (or just brat)! satoru / exes with benefits / exhibition / recreational drug use + alcohol consumption ergo dubious consent / oral (r giving) / body betrayal / brat! reader / implied cnc kink + masochism / domination loss / mild degradation + nipple play / double penetration

notes. terms are kept general thus gender neutral reader but it’s entirely up to your interpretation. a mini compilation of thirsts i had while attempting to fight writer’s block and an unforgiving schedule.

⸻ ## I KNEW IT WHEN I. . .

MET HIM !

[ NANAMI KENTO ]

nanami kento was the embodiment of the traditional man in every sense. he was a businessman — clad in a white button–down, black slacks, and a matching tie hanging around his collar. five days a week, monday to friday, nine a.m. to five p.m. a true provider.

that much you can assume from observation alone. he’s not like the usual crowd; the man stands out. so, it’s only natural that you become curious.

“i’m not above sex before marriage,” and when he speaks, he takes his time to carefully enunciate each word with practised precision. something you didn’t know you were attracted to until now, straddling his thighs.

“somethin’ tells me you’re not just a—” he presses a finger to your lips, interjecting, “if you’re suspicious of me we can always stop,” and you quiet down, rocking your hips back and forth as you feel his erection grow beneath your crotch.

the backseat of his car is a tight fit but it makes it all the more intimate. remnants of nicotine on his breath waft across your face, warming your skin.

“the windows are tinted,” he murmurs, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb, “it’s as private as it’s going to get,” before inserting the aforementioned finger into your mouth.

you smile to the best of your ability, wet muscle swirling around the salty digit as you maintain your grinding. slow and steady, purposeful movements that prompt just the right amount of friction between the two of you.

“isn’t this—” nanami interjects once more (you can barely get a word out), by way of pressing his thumb against your tongue thus causing a copious amount of saliva to cascade down your face. it’s wet and messy and done entirely for his own amusement. “we’re not celibate.”

[ SATORU GOJO ]

“do you—” he pauses mid–sentence, startling blue eyes fixated on his cock sliding in and out of your puffy entrance before continuing, “usually sleep with the stranger that saves you from a creep at the club or am i special?”

if you could’ve, you would’ve rolled your eyes. he’s talkative — too talkative but you find yourself enjoying the sound of his voice anyway. your hole quivers and tightens, gripping him like a vice at the implication that hangs between the two of you.

“i’m not easy ‘toru,” you protest in a weak attempt to sound firm though it leaves your parted lips as a breathy whine instead. and satoru smiles at that, chest rising and falling rapidly as he laughs.

“when did i say you were easy, stupid?” he asks, feigning innocence as he tilts his head to one side, bringing one hand up to your face to pat your cheek.

the action being somewhat degrading in its own sense. but ‘toru — satoru — was just like that. saying one thing and meaning or doing another. you couldn’t wrap your head around him.

and he revels in the fact, his smile continuing to grow; the type that meets his eyes and makes them crinkle ever so slightly.

“you wound me,” he tsks, bringing his lips closer to your ear as your body jolts upwards against the wall in sync with his cock bullying your hole, “all i meant by it was that we just met and look where we are now.”

‘it’s the same thing’ you think, but that’s all it is — a thought. when your lips part, you only vocalize a string of moans. satoru was a labyrinth and you were lost in him — or rather the pleasure he provides.

“bet you’re already justifying this in your head.”

⸻ ## I LOVED HIM WHEN I. . .

LEFT HIM !

[ TOJI FUSHIGURO ]

“what —” he lifts the shot glass to his parted lips, “are you thinkin’ about?” before swallowing a mouthful of cheap liquor, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he does so.

it’s a good question; one you don’t know the answer to, but a good question all the same. you’re thinking about everything and anything while simultaneously not thinking at all — a blunt dangling haphazardly between your lips.

“you want to know what i’m thinkin’ about?” so you answer his question with a question like a smart ass instead, leaning in until you’re nose–to–nose with the man you swore you’d never see again. and he doesn’t hesitate, a half–smile playing on his lips as they ghost yours. they’re warm, lighting a fire beneath the surface of your skin in its wake.

“no, i don’t want to know,” he sing–songs in response, catching you somewhat off guard. what blindsided you though was him lowering the waistband of both his grey sweatpants and his boxers. his cock, exposed to the cool air of the alleyway, standing at full mast—a vein running from the base to the tip.

suddenly your mouth feels dry and your knees feel the slightest bit weaker. it’s muscle memory — or its evil cousin that encourages your body to betray you.

you’re sinking to your knees, blunt discarded somewhere on the concrete (for god’s sake, you don’t care). your lips part, cheeks hollowed and throat relaxed. quiet anticipation coursing through your veins as you feel the weight of his cock in your palms.

“you know what to do,” he rumbles from above you, picking at the beds of his nails. and he’s right, you do know what to do; how he likes it.

you take him into your mouth, dragging your tongue along the outline of his piercing some ways below the head of his cock. and toji lets out a satisfied groan. once, twice, and then a third time before you focus on taking his full length into your mouth inch by inch until he’s hit the back of your throat.

from there, you move your mouth along his length, tracing every inch of it with your tongue — imprinting its shape in your mind all over again. it’s more like refreshing an old memory rather than creating a new one.

“knew you’d—” he clenches his jaw, cock throbbing in your mouth as saliva mixed with his pre–cum slips past your lips stretched to capacity around him, “come back t’me.”

[ HEIAN ERA! SUKUNA ]

“i’m—” your breath hitches, catching in your throat in sync with the rise of your shoulders, “many things my lord, but sorry isn’t one of them,” as your hips stutter.

momentarily. one hundred and twenty seconds.

it takes sukuna less than thirty seconds to capitalize on your fault. two hands wrap around your hips, nails pressed into the tender skin forming crescent-shaped indents. you’re forced to move to his rhythm now; cruel and unforgiving.

“should’ve focused on what’s important little one,” he clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment. he’s far from disappointed though, his cocks — both of them — buried to the hilt throb inside of you. and an onslaught of tears blur your vision; your mind is clouded by a myriad of sensations.

you’re somewhere between excruciating pain and unbelievable feats of pleasure.

“this isn’t—” you try, albeit with great difficulty as your words come in between gasps. but sukuna interjects, the corners of his lips curling upwards: “fair? stupid, this game of ours was never meant to be but you know that already.”

two more hands make contact with your skin after that exchange; two fingers on one hand pinching your nipple whereas the other holds your face in place so that you maintain eye contact with him.

and sukuna rolls his eyes as soon as your gazes meet though it’s a somewhat playful gesture. something most would find difficult to picture. but not you — never you.

“stop pretending to be a damsel in distress i’m not a—” he pauses mid–sentence, smile growing as he thrusts his hips, “well, i’m not that kind of monster,” the sound of his skin colliding with yours echoing throughout the room.

you whimper, staring at him through half–lidded eyes and a curtain of lashes wet with unshed tears: “i like what i like.”

#x male reader smut #x bottom male reader #nanami x male reader #toji x male reader #gojo x male reader #sukuna x male reader #jjk smut #jjk x male reader #x sub male reader #jjk x y/n #gojo smut #gojo x you #toji x you #nanami x you #sukuna x you

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sttoru · 9 months

Note

toji taking care of newborn megumi while reader sleeps?

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. gumi isnt rlly a newborn but we ball. use of curse words teehee

“tch—i’m really regretting buyin’ this thing.” toji was running out of patience as he reads the instructions on the piece of paper in his hands. it was all so vague; he’s questioning himself for even trying to figure this stuff out in the first place.

the small coos and babbles coming from megumi sound throughout the living room, the baby sitting in the pillow fort that his dad made him. the correct name would actually be ‘pillow jail’, since the fort wasn’t built for megumi’s entertainment—it was mainly to keep the little boy confined so toji could peacefully work on setting up the playhouse.

your husband was so intensly focused on putting the playhouse together to the point that he didn’t even notice the little thief escaping his self-made jail.

megumi was crawling on his hands and knees, his palms making soft ‘pat’ sounds as they came in contact with the cold floor, pouty lips forming a smile as he crawled his way over to his dad. toji had his back facing megumi, giving the kid a good opportunity to sneak up on him.

“fuck.” toji curses idly as his hand slipped and his finger bumped against his own face. not thinking much about that slip-up, the man continues to put the parts together, until he feels something tugging at his shirt from behind.

toji glances down and spots his son trying to climb up on his back—the journey up to toji’s broad shoulders was like climbing a mountain for such a little thing.

“phack!” the cute voice from below repeats what it has heard with confidence. megumi used all of his strength to reach up to his dad’s shoulders, repeating the used swear word proudly, a series of ‘phack! phack! phack!’ echoing louder in toji’s ears with each movement upwards.

the kid eventually reaches his destination, head placed right next to toji’s, chubby arms circling around his dad’s neck—basically hanging on for dear life.

toji wasn’t even concerned about megumi repeating that bad word over and over. how his son had managed to break free from his confinement was of more importance. his green eyes land on the destroyed pillow fort behind his back and your husband couldn’t help but chuckle. almost proudly.

“i see y’re already outsmarting your dad, kiddo.” toji grins, one hand coming up to stabilise megumi on his back. the baby looks over his father’s shoulder, seemingly inspecting what he was building. toji sighs as his free hand holds onto the piece of paper that included the instructions; “maybe ya could’ve even helped me build this shitty thing if ya knew how to read.”

“sjiddy!”

it was as if megumi was purposely only picking out the curse words. toji chuckles at this and—unlike any other parent—encourages his child to continue for his own entertainment.

“mhm—tha’s right. repeat after me, son.” the dark-haired man nods with a smug grin and points at the half-built playhouse, making sure megumi knew what he was talking about, “that thing is shitty.”

“sjiddy! sjiddy!” the kid repeats loudly and giggles as his father ruffles his hair afterwards in a ‘job-well-done’ manner.

“good boy.” toji laughs softly, moving megumi over to his lap so it’d be more comfortable for the both of them, “y’r momma is gonna kill me if she hears you say such things, though.”

megumi tilts his head up until it rested against toji’s torso, big eyes glancing at the face hovering on top of his; “mama? mama ‘eepy.”

“no, mama isn’t.”

toji freezes in place, megumi gasps in delight. you had awoken from your nap and decided to check in on your husband and son whom you had left alone for a few hours.

and, apparently, you couldn’t leave toji and megumi alone without it ending in your kid picking up on his dad’s bad habits.

you put your hands on your hips and glared at toji. he knew what time it was and he was not about to sit through another lecture. the last time you gave him an earful, he had to sit and listen to you scold him for almost an hour.

“shit.. gotta run.” toji immediately grabs tightly onto megumi, gets up and prepares to flee—not even realising that he cursed. again.

“sjit!” megumi giggles happily, the boy just having fun as his dad runs around with him, unaware of the reason nor of the meaning behind the words he was repeating.

“mama shit!” toji’s eyes widened as he heard megumi combine the two words; mama—megumi’s favourite word—and shit, the bad word your son had just learnt.

your husband knew that that would only increase your fury more and thus shushes his kid while running around the house—your quick footsteps just meters behind them;

“crap. shut it, megumi.”

“crap! dada crap!”

“…”

guess he had it coming.

#ෆ : parenting 101.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #jjk fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk x you #toji fluff #jjk fic

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taesanluv3r · 1 day

Text

pas de deux

hip-hop dancer! kim woonhak x ballet dancer! reader (ft. myung jaehyun & lee hyein as their best friends!)

rivals to lovers </3

teaser wc: 1,448

find the full version here > 🧸

enjoy this snippet ♡

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

“woah look at that, first place gets a cool trophy and everything!”

star academy’s annual DUET competition. pas de deux, or don’t!

౨ৎ

“let’s hope that happens soon, the competition is only two days away”

౨ৎ

“yeah, i better”

"woah"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

end of snippet.

full fic coming soon!! send a message, send an ask, or leave a reply to lmk what you thought of this cheeky little snippet <3 EXCITED FOR U GUYS TO READ THE FULL THING HEHEHEH

#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor imagines #woonhak #woonhak x reader #boynextdoor woonhak #bnd x reader #bnd woonhak

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ahundredtimesover · 2 months

Text

I Want You to Stay (10) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 20.6k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

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

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

The weekend after your site visits passes by excruciatingly slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Were you there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s always wrong.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyday.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were injured.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not gonna sleep here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You will what?” You laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In clothes, I would assume.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which?”

“That you’ll laugh at me again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is… is this okay?” You softly ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, were you worried?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“At least you’re not alone, right?”

“That’s true.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It might be slippery.”

“I have good balance,” you lie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” He challenges.

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

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

“I figured. Let’s go, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was that a trick?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

“May I?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

A bit more time passes before you both decide to head back. He reaches out his hand which you mindlessly take, your fingers instinctively wrapping around his palm. You’re too focused on your steps that you only realize you’re still holding him once you both safely make it to dry land. But it’s also at that moment when he lets go. Though a part of you wishes he’d drag the illusion a bit more, you’re also glad he didn’t; you would’ve probably held on longer if he didn’t pull away.

The silence continues as you both walk back to the start of the path, but he stays near you, occasionally asking if you’re tired or cold. You make it to the ATV and you hold onto his waist again with no instructions needed this time. He drives a bit faster than earlier but you feel safe and steady, and there’s something natural about the way you’re clinging to him for support. Part of the illusion as well, you think, but that ends, too.

You’re the last one back to the villas but you and Jungkook quickly make up some ground in assembling the water rocket. It was mostly him, though, as he says that he tinkers around and easily figures these things out. Do-hyun and Chin-sun feel the pressure as you catch up, and they shriek as they slowly feel the win slipping away from them. But then Jungkook holds onto the last piece and lets them win instead. The way they celebrate after their rocket successfully launches makes it feel worth it; you don’t feel bad about it at all. If anything, you expected he’d let either of the other two teams finish first.

After the winners are handed out hotel accommodation gift cards, Jungkook excuses himself to get a bit of work done while the rest of the team prepares for dinner. The team works on your assigned tasks of preparing the grill and slicing the vegetables, while you cook your famed fried rice after Do-hyun convinced you that it would heal her broken heart. Seated outside with the cool evening air, you all wait for Jungkook before starting.

“Mr. Jeon said he’ll just message me once he’s ready to eat,” Mr. Ri says as he takes his seat. “We can start without him.”

“But it’s not a team dinner without him,” Do-hyun whines. “He should take a break from working and spend time with us.”

“I’m sure he wants that, too,” you say. “Let’s just give him some time, maybe there’s something urgent he needs to do. Let’s just enjoy our meal and leave some food for him.”

Everyone dives in once the meat is cooked, and there’s a consensus that your fried rice is definitely worth all the hype. The laughter and teasing immediately start, and you wish Jungkook was here to enjoy it with you. You constantly glance at his villa, noting the dim lights, and you wonder what has him holed up inside this time, knowing he didn’t plan on working too much while he’s here.

It’s one hour later when you decide that he’s gone too long without having dinner, so you take portions of everything and set them on a tray.

“Wait, let me make him a drink. Hopefully that’ll convince him to come out,” Yohan says.

Managing to carry everything, you head towards Jungkook’s villa, and when he opens the door after your constant bell-ringing, he looks at you in surprise.

“The team’s been wondering when you were coming out,” you say. “You might be in there because of work, but I’m not fully convinced. Whatever it is, the food’s too delicious for you to not have a taste, so I brought you some.”

You raise the tray that you placed on the small table outside and flash him a smile. He nods in acknowledgement and takes it from you but you don’t leave just yet.

“I hope you’re not working anymore,” you say.

“I only did for a while,” he replies. “I… got a bit tired.”

“I’ve seen you workout in the morning and work all day after only having three hours of sleep, Jungkook. You wouldn’t get tired from just a jet ski ride and some scavenger hunt,” you raise an eyebrow.

He lets out a dry laugh before heading to the dining room. He leaves the door open so you follow him inside.

“I mean I’m socially tired. Isn’t that a thing?”

“Gee, I didn’t think that spending time with me outdoors drained your energy so much,” you frown.

Your playful pout tells him you’re teasing. He sure hopes it’s not what you really feel. It’s the opposite, in fact. He felt relieved of a lot of things during that hour that he walked around and breathed in the fresh air with you. And you both had moments - comforting glances, the shared silence… the fleeting touches that made him want more. You’re everything new and familiar and he wants to know how it’s like to have you close to him.

He knows it’s a desire he can’t act on, not just because he’s your superior but also because he can’t imagine you feeling a fraction of what he feels. It’s tempting to mistake your kindness for something more, and he’d fall into it if only hoping didn’t lead to disappointment. But like what Yoongi had said before, it’s how you naturally are, even as someone who prefers to be alone. Whatever type of friendship you offer is all that it is - friendship.

Jungkook clearly doesn’t deserve you. It’s not just because of the way he treated you at the beginning but because even until now, whenever he pulls away, you’re always the first one who reaches out. He’s scared that anything he does might push you away, and that’s the last thing he wants. He’ll keep you at a distance for as much as he can and for as long as you’re around. He can handle that, but losing you in any way has become his biggest fear.

That’s why he needed to be on his own after your time together in such a casual and comfortable environment. It’s easy to want that with you and to think that he can have it. Pulling away has always been his default when dealing with things he can’t control, and earlier, he just couldn’t control his mind and his heart.

But you’re here now, having knocked on his door like you always do, wondering if he’ll come out.

“I brought you dinner but I purposely gave you small servings so you’ll want more and leave your villa,” you explain.

“Half a cup of your fried rice?” He scowls. “That’s a crime.”

“I know. And you’ll run out if you don’t go outside,” you warn. “Are you planning on just staying here? Do-hyun’s right. It’s not a team dinner without you there.”

“I… I was planning to go out a bit later. It’s a different setting and I’m a little anxious,” he admits.

He looks away and you feel for him. You were the same in the beginning, too. It’s one thing to share meals with people in a work environment but it’s another when it’s more casual, where people are less filtered and guarded. But you had to try, and after spending time getting to know your colleagues, things got easier.

The team has adjusted to Jungkook but you suppose Jungkook hasn’t fully adjusted to them. Perhaps he was planning on sneaking in much later in the evening or using work as an excuse. But this is part of his function, and like you promised him early on, you want to help him with this aspect of his role.

“I’ll help you loosen up a bit,” you suggest. “I can have dinner with you here first and then we can go out once you’re ready.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees, even if he’d decided earlier that he’d keep his distance. “You can get your food outside. I’m not sharing mine.”

You laugh at how seriously he says the words.

“I know,” you say. “And by the way, Yohan made you that drink.”

“How’d he know I like highball?”

“A little birdie told him,” you shrug, feigning innocence.

You smile before walking out, with Jungkook reminding you to set aside some fried rice for him.

You take your plate and reason to the team that you and Jungkook will just discuss some work stuff and they buy it, saying they won't get drunk until you’re both back outside.

You return to the villa with your dish and a bottle of beer, immediately realizing that it’s new territory for you and Jungkook, too. Sure, you’ve spent some time together out of work, but not in a place and situation like this.

But you want to be there for him. You like that he looks to you for energy and support. On days when he’s distant, you want moments like right now to remind you of the times he needed you, that he wanted you around, even if it’s for a different reason.

It takes half an hour for Jungkook to ease his nerves. In that time, you talk about random things, like his favorite hawker centers in Singapore and the variety shows you watch on which days. You both tease each other, then compete on who gets less affected. You tell him it’s good preparation for when the team, in their drunken states, does the same. You assure him, though, that they won’t go below the belt but he also assures you that he’s a big boy and can handle it.

When he says he wants more fried rice, it becomes your cue to head outside. You’re thankful that other than Mr. Ri subtly smirking at you, no one else reacts uncomfortably. You and Jungkook just came from his villa alone, after all, but you suppose everyone’s too tired or too careful to say anything.

“I hope no one’s eaten my share of the fried rice,” Jungkook says as he sits across from you. “I was really looking forward to it.”

“Here, all yours, Mr. Jeon,” Yohan says as he hands him a bowl. “If it isn’t enough, just know that Do-hyun took one last scoop before we set this aside.”

“Traitor,” Do-hyun scowls at the younger man. “I couldn’t help it. It’s so good, right?” She turns to Jungkook now. “___ gatekeeps this! She says she’s too busy to make it and I only got her to do it now because I’m heartbroken.”

Jungkook smiles internally. You’ve made this for him a few times and it’s heartwarming to think that you had your reasons for doing so, knowing now that it’s not something you easily share.

“It’s way better than the one I make,” Jungkook says, glancing at you. “I can have this everyday.”

“You cook?!” Do-hyun basically yells.

“Uh, yeah. I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?” Jungkook asks.

“Paying people to do things for you,” Do-hyun shrugs.

It’s a line he’s heard you say before and neither of you are wrong. It’s normal to make that assumption and it’s also true. He had people to do pretty much everything for him when he was in Singapore. He has that option here in Seoul, too, but he’s found himself wanting less people in his space for long periods of time. You’re really the only one he doesn’t mind being around him.

The conversation shifts to what happened in the afternoon, and you all end up talking about each team’s scavenger hunt experience and the anticipation for the next day’s obstacle course and relay games. A few more shots and bottles of beer later, the vibe turns more serious, as Manager Lee’s question to Do-hyun about how she’s feeling turns into an emotional session where she asks what she’s supposed to do about the man she was seeing, wondering if it’s worth reaching out or just moving on from him.

Chin-sun shares a piece of her mind and so does Yohan. Manager Lee says that sometimes, people don’t know what they want and isolate themselves in response. The pieces of advice are a mix of being patient and forgetting about the man, and you choose to observe rather than give an opinion. It’s always easy to say something but things could be totally different once you’re the one experiencing it. You think Jungkook feels the same, as he stays quiet but listens earnestly.

“What do you think, Mr. Ri?” Do-hyun asks. “You’re the oldest one here and would probably have a lot to say.”

“I wish I did but I wouldn’t say I’ve made the best decisions when it comes to my love life,” Mr. Ri laughs. “I mean, I’ve only ever loved one woman but I let her go. And that was over 20 years ago; I haven’t loved anyone that way since. I don’t think I ever really stopped.”

You watch everyone’s faces turn from shocked to somber. Mr. Ri, having been CEO Jeon’s right-hand man for a long time, has a stable and commanding presence. Everyone knows him to be loyal and firm, yet there’s a warmth about him with how protective and dependable he is. They all know about his commitment to his job, but his faithfulness to one person is perhaps surprising; he was never one to show much emotion, after all. But then again, people make sacrifices in the name of love - sometimes they give everything up for it, sometimes it’s what they let go of.

“Twenty years is a long time,” Do-hyun sighs. “And you never stopped. Where does all that love go?”

“I have people I care about,” Mr. Ri answers. “It goes to them. Obviously it’s different but I learned that if I keep all that love to myself, it hurts even more. That’s how I learned to live with the decision I made. It’s how I learned to let her go.”

“That’s so sad,” Do-hyun sniffles. “Here I am, heartbroken about a guy I was dating for only a few months while you’ve been harboring these feelings for decades.”

“It’s not about the length of time you were together or apart,” Mr. Ri shakes his head. “When you give a part of yourself to someone, losing them always hurts. That part of you is gone because they took it with them and you can’t take it back. So your pain is valid. We all love and grieve and move forward differently,” he says. “It’s all terrifying but that’s the irony of life, I’ve learned. The thing we all want and can’t live without is the same thing that hurts us the most, whether we have it or not.”

There’s a beat of silence as everyone takes in the elder man’s words. They cut deep, as you know they come from a place of deep pain. You don’t want to ever go through something that hurts that much.

“I’m too emotional,” Do-hyun sighs, not wanting to spend the rest of the evening crying and having everyone feel bad for her, so she shifts her attention to something else. “I want something juicy.” She briefly looks at Jungkook, who looks blankly at her, so she turns to you instead. “I don’t know much about your love life, ___.”

“Yes, because I don’t have one,” you chuckle, masking the nervousness you feel because talking about its inexistence in front of the man plaguing your mind was not something you planned for this trip.

“But I know you did,” she insists. “I mean, why wouldn’t you?”

“I think what Do-hyun means is that you’re a highly capable, kind, and attractive woman,” Chin-sun chimes in. “Surely there have been prospects for a relationship, yes?”

“Like Mr. Min!” Yohan says now. “I always thought you two were cute together. Do-hyun and I would bet on it since she says you’re not the type to date co-workers.”

“And she’s right,” you say, glancing at Jungkook whose face you can’t read. “Yoongi and I are good friends. That’s all we ever were.”

“Well, I think he’s very nice and he’d treat you well,” Yohan sighs. “But I guess it might be weird to date someone you work with. I have friends I can match you with!”

“That’s not necessary,” you laugh. “I don’t think relationships are for everyone.”

“Why not?” Do-hyun asks.

You contemplate on whether or not you’re ready for this conversation, especially since it’s the type you usually just have with your best friends. You suppose it’s why your colleagues claim they don’t know much about you other than the way you work because you don’t really share much about your life, your dreams, or the things you wonder about. You’ve always preferred to keep things to yourself, always worried about how they will be received.

But everyone’s allowed themselves to be vulnerable tonight, and given the distance you’ve created between you and them all these years, you think the least you could do is be honest. It’s a team building thing anyway, and people bond over shared experiences during these times.

“I’ve… dated people but it was never serious,” you start. “I never really saw myself committing to them. Sure, I’d give my time and energy but nothing more. There’s so much courage in loving another person. I just don’t think I’ll ever be brave enough for that. I mean, it’s just hard to control. Once you start, you can’t stop; once you do it too much, you can’t pull back.”

“Sounds to me like you’re afraid that you won’t receive as much as you give,” Manager Lee states. “It’s how love is, though. It’s not always equal. But that’s the risk you take, that’s the trust you build. That even when what’s given isn’t the same, there’s still love there.”

“But isn’t that the scary part of it all?” You counter. “Like what Mr. Ri said, you give a part of yourself to someone when you love them but what if they don’t want that specific part of you? Or they did then one day they decide they don’t anymore? So they just retreat and leave you out in the open. They’re safe but you’re not, because you broke down your walls for them but they didn’t do the same.”

“That’s the thing about finding the right person, ___,” Manager Lee says, with all the wisdom of a man who’s loved and lost and loved again. “You either trust that they won’t do that, or you accept that they could and you’d still think that loving them is worth all the pain that losing them would cost. In the end, you get to decide. If you keep yourself from feeling it, how are you to know what’s worth it and what isn’t?”

You’ve heard versions of these words before, too. Soomin and Jimin, whose respective relationship ups and downs you’ve witnessed, have said themselves that committing yourself to someone takes a whole lot of faith in the person and in yourself. It’s because you’re giving them an opportunity to hurt you but you have to trust that they won’t. A lot of times, they do, so you then have to trust in your own ability to get over them.

The thoughts swim in your head and with your silence, Chin-sun gives you an encouraging smile. She’s a few years older than you and has experienced a lot when it comes to relationships, and you can sense that she understands your hesitation and your fear.

“It’s scary but when you find someone who makes you feel brave, that can make all the difference,” she says.

Admitting all this makes you feel exposed, especially when your eyes flit to Jungkook and you find him gazing at you, as if he’s trying to figure you out. You’re worried that any other move you make or things you say will lead him to uncovering your feelings that you acknowledge is beyond just physical attraction at this point.

You find yourself worrying about him constantly, wondering what he’s doing or if he’s getting proper rest. You’re always thinking about his smile and the sound of his laugh, and you imagine how much sweeter and softer they could get. You want him to be happy, to find his peace, to have something to look forward to. And you want to know what his touch feels and how it’s like to have him close.

You know all this is wrong because of who you are and who he is in this world, especially as you realize that you’ve never felt anything quite like this before. The fear makes itself even more known as it is embodied in the man across from you - so palpable and overwhelming that you can’t help but want more, and the more his eyes bore into you, the closer you are to giving in.

How are you to know what’s worth it and what isn’t if you don’t let yourself feel all of it? And if Jungkook makes you feel brave, then what if he’s the person you’re willing to break down your walls for?

You shake your head, knowing you can’t fall into the trap of your own mind. You need to be logical about this, but you also think that you’ve been that way all your life and it hasn’t brought you much happiness. At this point, you question what that looks like.

Maybe it looks like him. Maybe it’s also life without him.

How do people make decisions like this? You wonder. How do they know how much pain they can bear? And when does it become worth it?

“Wise words,” you manage to say after a tense silence. “You make it sound simple.”

“Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t,” Chin-sun says. “Human beings are complicated, ___, so are our emotions. Love makes people stupid. But it also makes us brave and happy and complete. And when it’s shared with the right person, god it feels so good.”

You’re able to get her to share about her own experience and remove the spotlight away from you. Manager Lee narrates his serendipitous love story as well, and the serious tone of the conversation turns into a giddy, enjoyable one. You find yourself constantly glancing at Jungkook, liking his soft smiles and giggles as the stories are told. He briefly meets your eyes during some moments though, and that’s when you look away.

The night ends when he announces that everyone should get some rest and prepare for tomorrow’s activities, so you all clean up and wish each other a good night. Your eyes linger on Jungkook as he walks back to his villa, and you turn away before he does the same, the yearning for him getting stronger as each day passes.

The sun shines beautifully over the lake as you lean on the railing overlooking the water. The clouds over the mountains look like the fog that cleared earlier, and the majestic way that the scenery is framed by the blue skies is absolutely stunning.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Jungkook hums from several meters next to you. “I never really bothered to appreciate this view before.”

“It is,” you say, turning to him as he continues to gaze at the scene before you while you gaze at him. If he notices from his periphery, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s breathtaking. I could take a picture but that wouldn’t give this justice.”

“I can try,” he says, reaching out to ask for your phone. “I’m good at this.”

You indulge him and watch as he finds the right angle to beautifully capture the surroundings. He asks if you want him to take another photo with you in it this time, and though you’re a little shy, you let him.

You warm at how natural your smile looks, realizing that you were focusing on his smile while he was taking the picture. The view looks surreal but you’re in there, and it’s a reminder of where you are and who you’re with. Jungkook remarks that it’s a nice shot before turning back to the water, and while you wish you were braver and had asked to take one with him so you could hold onto this memory, you know you’ll look at this photo of you and also remember what you’re feeling. There’s so much calm and clarity, and you know it’s not just because of the mountains.

The tension and fear that filled you up last night have slowly turned into a sense of relief. The distance that once bothered you about Jungkook now gives you comfort. No matter how far or unattainable he may be, you still feel his presence - his warmth is in the peacefulness of a park at night, or in the calmness of the lake, or in the safety of your neighborhood library. You never imagined that one Jeon Jungkook would ever make you feel this way, and if he’s someone who makes you be brave to feel something new, maybe you owe it to him and to yourself to be brave to pursue that, too.

Your thoughts are disrupted when Yohan yells that breakfast is ready. You all gather in the common dining room for some dumpling soup before a short planning session to give you time to digest. At 9:30, the first activity begins, with all six of you divided into two teams to finish an obstacle course.

It gets competitive when you’re teamed up with the younger ones, as Do-hyun and Yohan attempt to trash talk the others. They give it their all, especially when they see Jungkook dominating the kayaking part of the course, but the three of you manage in the end. A part of you feels that the other team just wanted to make the younger ones win only to use it against them later on, but the fun and excitement are what matter.

You enjoy some meat and stew for lunch and have another planning session before doing the afternoon games, which has Jungkook on the losing team again. He comes up with a last minute individual game that gives Manager Lee the chance to win this time, and the afternoon ends with all of you, excluding him, winning prizes you can enjoy after this.

The free time before dinner has you reading your book by the lake and then talking with Chin-sun in the hammock while the rest of the team enjoy the sunset and some beer. You’re thankful that this time, Mr. Ri was tasked to handle all the activities instead of you, and so you’re able to focus on spending time with your colleagues.

You grill meat again for dinner, roast marshmallows over the campfire, and passionately sing off-key in the karaoke. But unlike last night, people decide to go to bed early, definitely tired from today’s physical activities.

You’re exhausted as well but somehow, the pull of the cold evening air is too strong, so you decide to walk to the main house and grab a bottle of beer. When you walk out to the deck, you’re surprised to find Jungkook seated on a lounge chair outside of his villa, glass in hand as he looks up at the sky.

Jungkook savors the crisp breeze, knowing that once he gets back to Seoul, all he’ll have is the musty air and the buzzing sounds of the city. He wants to remember this weekend and the peace he felt. Maybe he should’ve taken a photo of the view this morning like he did for you; he at least has the one of you in it that he took ingrained in his mind. You looked so calm and happy; he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face then.

He’s trying to keep as much of today in his memory as he can, knowing how hectic it’s going to be when you all get back. Other than the amount of fun he didn’t expect to have with the team, he enjoyed seeing a different side of you.

You were competitive but encouraging, probably not the most athletic but definitely capable. He could pick out your squeals and laughter and he thought they were sweet and hypnotic, and he appreciated how thoughtful you were during dinner, making sure everyone had enough to eat, especially him. You would catch his attention to ask if his meat is okay or if he’s feeling comfortable; he hated that it all ended so soon. Though he shouldn’t, he wanted more time with you. It’s different being out here than it is in the office or even in his home. Here, he’s unguarded and a lot more free, and he’s able to make more sense of how you affect him; in a way, he’s able to truly feel all that you make him feel.

There’s so much of you in his mind but you’re not around, so he stands up to head to bed already, hoping he’d at least see you in his dreams. But when he turns towards the door, he sees a silhouette in the main house’s deck. And as if the universe is giving him some sign, he finds you there, standing by the post with a beer in hand. You lift the bottle in cheers and he lifts his drink in return, sipping every last drop he could.

He sees you grab another bottle from the outdoor fridge then place it on the coffee table, an invitation to join you that he’s glad you make. He would’ve been too hesitant to make the move, unsure of your willingness to be in his presence.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask as he nears the couch.

He sits next to you, the short distance a little too tempting to close.

“Sort of,” he hums. “And you?”

“Not really. I don’t get much of the outdoors back in my tiny apartment,” you chuckle.

“Fair enough. The weather’s been nice, fortunately. Not like the last time we were out of town, yeah?”

“Yeah, fortunately,” you shyly look at him, not saying more, perhaps unsure if it’s something he’s ready to talk about.

“It’s okay,” he assures you. “I’ve accepted you having witnessed my extreme moment of weakness. You were patient and understanding even when I was angry and I… I don’t know if I’ve thanked you enough for that.”

“You have, and I understand it all. But Jungkook, what happened at that guest house is not weakness,” you insist. “That’s… dealing with a painful memory.”

“That wasn’t dealing, ___. I was suffering. That's… that’s what happens when someone doesn’t know how to move on from something.”

“Does it happen a lot?” You wonder.

“Well, the nightmares tend to happen when the thunder is really loud,” he says. “Otherwise I just get really anxious, like when it rains, my brain just expects things to get bad.”

“What do you do when it does?”

“I don’t know how I manage, actually,” he answers. “I usually forget and just remember that I wake up dry in my bed. I mean, I’d be sweating but not soaked. I guess that night, I was just too nervous because the rain was so strong, we were on the road. And I was somewhere completely unfamiliar with you. I… I think that made it worse.”

Your silence prompts him to clarify. “I mean, I didn’t want you to see me that way, that’s why it was worse,” he states. “It’s not a side of me I’m proud of. Which is silly thinking about it now because you’ve seen a lot of sides of me that I’m not proud of. All of them, actually.”

“So you’re not proud of the side of you that protected me? That made sure I was safe? That rushed to find me when I was stuck in the rain?” You ask.

“It’s what any decent human being would do,” he dismisses. “Those just probably stand out because I wasn’t exactly one in the beginning.”

“Well, you had Mr. Ri drive me. You’d make me go home early sometimes, too.”

“___, again, that’s what a decent boss should be doing. It’s the bare minimum. You deserve more kindness than you’re receiving. I… I should have been that to you from the start.”

“We’ve moved past that, remember? It’s all okay. I managed, I stayed. And I’m glad I did. I got to learn so much from you,” you assure him. “And you deserve more kindness than you’re receiving, too.”

Jungkook hums. He wouldn’t have thought that he’d be able to freely talk to you about all this - about how he was before and how he’s been recently. And like always, you’re gentle with him. He could only hope you’re as gentle as you are with yourself, something he doesn’t know how to do.

“I… I hope you’ve found ways to cope with all that you went through,” he says, turning away from you in shame. “I… I’m still learning.”

“It’s a process, and it’s not an easy one. No one really tells you how to do it. You kind of just… find your way,” you share. “But just think that the thunder doesn’t last long. It’s going to pass. So maybe when it starts raining, you can do what I did. Just cover your ears to block out the sounds. All we can do sometimes is shield ourselves from it, you know? It would scare us a little less.”

“I don’t even remember how you did it,” he admits. “I felt so out of it that night.”

“But did it help?” You ask.

He nods in response. “I wasn’t alone. I think that was the first time in a long time.”

“When you are, just do what I do,” you say, turning towards him and closing the distance to cover his ears with your hands. “Edge of the palms or your fingers then press tightly. The hollowness will drown out the sounds until they stop.”

Jungkook’s eyes swim in yours. He can’t tell you that he doubts it’d work without you, since your comforting look and your calm voice are what made him pull through. But still, he knows that imagining you’re there would definitely help.

“Edge of the palms or your fingers then press tightly,” he repeats, almost like a whisper. “Got it.”

You smile and it’s like a spell for him, as he mindlessly puts his hands over yours and slowly brings them down. He’s so lost in you that he only realizes he’s still holding your hands when you look down, so he immediately pulls away.

“Who taught you how to do that?” He asks, masking his embarrassment.

“My mom,” you answer, shifting back on your seat and looking out at the horizon. “My dad copped out before he knew I existed and she was too heartbroken to ask for him back. It took a while but she eventually found another man. I was pretty young then. He was okay, but then he lost his job and things went downhill from there.”

Jungkook sees the way your face falls and he already knows his heart is going to break for you.

“He would drink a lot and they’d fight all the time. He’d yell and yell, and then yell some more,” you narrate. “Mom would make me hide in the closet or under the bed just so I’d hear less of it. Thunder used to scare me, too; it sounded like his banging on the wall when he’d scream at her but eventually, I realized the roar drowns him out so I welcomed it. But I would just cover my ears and think of happy thoughts like she said. Sometimes she’d come to me and do it like I did with you. I always liked that better.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, wanting to take your hand back and comfort you in any way. “You shouldn’t have experienced that.”

“Life isn’t fair sometimes,” you sigh, having accepted the hand you were dealt. “My mom and I got out and she found someone who loves and respects her. And we just found ways to deal with the pain, you know? We could only bury it for so long. And so covering my ears just became a habit as I grew up. It was a way to battle all that.”

“I’ve seen you do that a few times.”

“It’s like a general coping mechanism of some sort,” you explain. “Sometimes the loud sounds come from inside, too. Thoughts of not being good enough, of being selfish, of not deserving of happiness… I mean, they come from others but they stay in my head. I have to cover my ears to stop them from overwhelming me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, looking away in shame when you turn to him questioningly. “You did that several times during my first weeks. I know I… I said things that hurt you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It was hard for everyone and like I said, I forgive you. But I've been told worse things,” you shake your head. “You’ve heard some of them.”

“You didn’t deserve those either.”

“I know. That’s why I walked away. It’s easy to do that when you don’t give much of yourself to them. And I do it all the time,” you say. “I never really stay.”

“Would you stay if you found the right person?”

You remember a conversation with him months ago, about people being temporary and how they’d only stay if they had a reason to. It’s safe to say that finding the right person would be your reason, but that also makes it harder.

“I probably would,” you respond. “And I think that scares me, too.”

“Why?” He asks.

“What if I would stay for them? But they won’t stay for me?”

Jungkook leaves your question unanswered, knowing there’s nothing he can say that would sufficiently validate your fear nor comfort you about it. His own past relationship doesn’t give him any right - Chaerin left him but he gave her all the reasons to; she walked away and he did the same. Sometimes he wonders if she’d lost him before he lost her. He also doesn’t know if he loved her so much that he let her go, or if he didn’t love her enough to make her stay. Maybe it was neither. Or maybe he was just too scared - that she’d reject him, or that he wouldn’t be able to love her better if he she came back, he doesn’t know. He was never brave enough to find out.

He lets the silence linger, prompting you to remark that the conversation is too sad for a night as pretty as tonight.

“We should probably head to bed, though,” he suggests. “We still have stuff in the morning then a long ride home. I don’t have to remind you how hectic this next week is gonna be.”

“You just did,” you frown, earning you a laugh. “But I agree. Thank you for keeping me company tonight.”

Your shy smile makes his breath hitch. He wants this to go on for longer but he knows he might just let his guard down even more, maybe share about his other pains and frustrations and worries about life. Maybe he’ll end up moving closer to you, close enough that he’d smell your classic rose scent that makes his mind feel hazy. Maybe he’ll want more, and he reminds himself of all the boundaries he shouldn’t cross, and that crossing them may push you away.

So he says goodnight and you both walk towards your respective villas, looking back one more time before heading inside.

You’re all he thinks about for the rest of the night. His gaze follows you all through the next morning, too. He misses your presence when he leaves for Seoul in his own car, and he’s back to being a giddy mess when you message him, saying you hope he got home safely.

It almost feels like the weekend was a dream and when Monday comes, he has to remind himself that he’s back to reality and that includes how he should be when it comes to you. Those days remain in his memory, but when you enter his apartment that morning with the softest smile, and when you meet his eyes as you fix his necktie, he knows it wasn’t a dream. And that somehow, just like him, you wish it didn’t have to end.

It’s been over a week since the team building and you haven’t really moved on from all that happened during those three days. There was the joy of being with your colleagues and the companionship you felt thankful to have. There was also the tranquility of the lake and the refreshing environment that rejuvenated you, making you wish you were back there, especially as you sort through the printed photos from your disposable camera and see the pretty views that you already miss.

There’s that photo you took of Jungkook by the stream that you’ve been staring at, another reason why you want to go back to that time. His eyes are warm and his smile is soft and subtle, unforced and just as captivating. It’s quite calming, and it’s the image that you hold onto later that Thursday evening when you’re piled under loads of paperwork. It’s past 6PM but you can’t afford to leave yet, and the only good thing about it is that he’s still around, and you get to sneak in some glances through the window.

You’ve become that person, smitten by her attractive boss and definitely stupid enough to be overwhelmed by her emotions. You haven’t stopped thinking about him. Everyday that you enter his space, the desire to know him more gets stronger; with every common place you step into, you keep wishing he’d ask you to stay close, that he’d invite you to somewhere reserved for those he lets in. Every time your fingers brush, you’re reminded of the way his hands felt on top of yours and how you wanted him to keep them there, and every look you share makes you hope that you’re not the only one in this mess of emotions. And that if you’ll give in, so would he.

You’re not quite sure what he feels, but if his shy smiles and the way he intensely looks at you before looking away mean anything, then you could at least say that there’s definitely something there. You just don’t know if he would acknowledge it or if like you, it’s gotten too strong that you’re unable to think clearly or act rationally.

Finally done with the last item on your task list for today, you start to pack up. It’s at the same time that Jungkook exits from his room to return a portfolio he took earlier and place it on your desk. You’re about to pick it up but he says you should just leave it there and fix it tomorrow.

But you disregard him. You retrieve the stool and attempt to return the portfolio on the top shelf. It’s a little heavy but you manage; you even start fixing the others that moved because Jungkook’s been getting them these past days. You’re about to step down when you hear his heavy sigh.

“I told you to do that tomorrow,” he groans, walking towards you.

With your back turned, you reply, “I like starting my days with a tidy desk, okay?”

“It’s just one portfolio,” he points out.

“It still takes up so much space. It makes my table look messy.”

“You still could’ve waited. Or you could’ve asked me to help,” he insists, continuing to reprimand you as you try to step down the stool.

He’s a little close, blocking your view of the floor, and that’s why you miss a step and trip again, your squeal echoing throughout the empty floor. You think your heart racing is about to join in on the sounds, too, as it quickens when you realize that Jungkook has caught you by your waist, his tight grip on you sending shivers down your spine.

He’s gotten even closer, as you look up and find his scrunched eyebrows and worried eyes staring back at you. The tension starts to rise but you manage to tell him that you’re fine after he asks if you’re hurt.

“I’m sure,” you tell him. “You caught my fall. Again.”

You giggle and that’s what makes him let out a laugh as well. Your left hand holds onto the shelf but his hands remain on you. He’s still a breath away but you suddenly don’t mind, as your right hand mindlessly makes its way to rest on his arm. At this moment, this feels right. You’re all alone in your little bubble with him where you’re all he sees and he’s all you can breathe in.

His bergamot scent wafts through your nose. You can count his eyelashes and see the scar on his cheek that you never noticed. He’s even more breathtaking up close, and as if all reason evaporates from your body, you don’t pull away. You want him just like this.

On second thought, you want him even closer.

“You’re a clumsy woman, aren’t you?” He says, his voice low and deep. “This isn’t the first time that I’m breaking your fall.”

“Well, if you would just be quiet while I’m attempting to go down, then that wouldn’t be a problem,” you breathily giggle, inching the tiniest bit forward.

“Well, if you just listened to me the first time, then you wouldn't have to climb up there,” he responds, earning him a playful roll of your eyes. “You’re a stubborn one, too.”

“So I’ve heard,” you match his teasing. “Can't help it sometimes.”

“So you acknowledge it?” He raises an eyebrow in intrigue.

“Yeah, I guess,” you say much more nervously now, meeting his eyes. It’s like you’re hypnotized again, caught in some spell where being in his presence makes you honest and uninhibited. “I mean, I feel things I shouldn’t feel and want people I shouldn’t want,” you add. “Doesn’t that make me stubborn?”

“What’s stopping you from feeling them? From having them?” He asks, his voice remaining low and his eyes, even more piercing and desperate now as they stare back at you.

His thumbs lightly caress your waist and his touch electrifies you through the thin material of your blouse. There’s so much to say and it’s way more complicated, just as your feelings for him are. You can’t help but eye his lips, soft and pink, and the desire to know what they taste like intensifies, prompting you to nibble your own.

“What’s stopping me?” You pant now, your gaze flitting from his eyes back to his lips, with him doing the same. “The ways of the world. And some… boundary that pulls me back, a line that I don’t know he’s ready to cross for me.”

The words actualize your fears the moment you say them. You know all the reasons why wanting him is wrong. But there’s a small part of you that wants to give in, and it’s terrified that he wouldn’t, that he’d dismiss what you feel and pull away. The way he’s been with you and the way he’s holding you right now spark that sliver of hope you have that he feels the same way, but it’s also the same moment that he lets you go, perhaps realizing that he’s not willing to take the risk the way you are.

He releases you from his hold and steps back, creating distance, and you suddenly feel bare - exposed and unguarded without his touch. He looks at you in panic, in apology, in fear, as if he’d had some sense knocked into him, as if he awakened from some spell that pushed him close to you, only to realize that that’s a place he can’t go.

“I—”

“I should go,” you interject, turning away so as not to see any more of the rejection in his eyes. “Have a good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

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