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ahundredtimesover · 2 months

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I Want You to Stay (09) | 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; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; use of the term slut in a derogatory way, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS 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: 18.4k

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 thank you for being patient, and again for all your love and appreciation for this story. 🥰 Updates will continue to take longer as I return to uni. On another note, I hope you enjoy this!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

Seeing you standing in his kitchen donned in that pastel-colored blouse makes Jungkook stop in his tracks; you’re exactly who he needs to wake him up.

It’s been weeks of vacation, which also means weeks without his usual routine. It’s striking how being absorbed in his work has altered him in that sense - he looks for the stress, for the long hours, for the isolation that’s demanded of his job. Perhaps there was just really nothing to look forward to, and work was an excuse for all those things because there wasn’t much else going for him. Ironic, considering everything he can do with what he has, yet nothing seems to be what he’s looking for, even if deep down, he knows what it is.

This is something that Hoseok and A-yeong made him realize during the trip as he watched them gush about the pretty streets and marvel at the fjords and immerse themselves in the view of the northern lights.

His cousin, the President of the company who makes decisive decisions and conducts press conferences and signs off on billion won projects, is the same man who squealed during a husky ride in Finland, laughed his butt off when he slipped on a glacier, and muttered words of love to his wife as they all watched the bright evening sky over the lake in Norway. There was so much passion in him, something A-yeong mirrored, whether it was about work or his relationships or just about everything in life. Hoseok looked forward to that trip, to that time with his wife, to that break, to seeing the scenery and feeling peace.

While Jungkook found himself constantly thinking about the Arts Center and upcoming projects and new design ideas… and the one person who connected him to all those - you. It felt like he was rushing towards something because the achievement was the goal, and while he stopped by the mountains and marveled at the water as he sat on the cliffs, his mind was racing, chasing something that he couldn’t even grasp.

That’s how the past six years have been. Perhaps more, he thinks. Maybe 20. He’s never allowed himself to just be. Quite frankly, he doesn’t know who he is outside of what he does; he doesn’t know much of how he is outside of being an executive and heir, and so during the moments when he isn’t functioning as such, he’s a bit lost, just existing in a place he’s visiting, not knowing how to interact, how to breathe; not knowing how to connect or to be free.

You’re the bright spot amidst it all. With you around, he still seems to be wandering while stuck in a certain spot, but he’s not alone because you’re there. With you around, there’s a sense of calmness somehow, with your smile and your presence warming the coldest parts of him that he’s left untouched and unfeeling for years.

So when he walks towards you, his eyes fully opening now to see you better, he hums in satisfaction.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, prompting you to turn around. “It feels like it’s been so long.”

“Really, Mr. Jeon? I thought the three weeks felt fast,” you giggle. “But it’s nice to see you, too. Were you able to rest out there?”

“Somehow,” he replies, taking the glass of water you give him.

“Is that why you passed on your morning workout to sleep in?” You raise an eyebrow, thinking that he’d slept in when you walked into his penthouse earlier without the usual sounds from the gym that you’d gotten used to.

“I was pretty jet lagged,” he groans. “Couldn’t sleep so I did it last night to tire myself out and then I finally fell asleep three hours ago. It’s a miracle I woke up after the tenth snooze of my alarm.”

“Ooh, that is not good, considering all the documents on your desks and messages on your inbox,” you shake your head. “What if I move the team meeting to tomorrow so you don’t push yourself too hard today? You could’ve taken the day off.”

“And have a worse day tomorrow? No thanks,” he chuckles. “I’m fine, but I agree with moving the meeting.”

“Just take it slow,” you advise. “I brought some pastries because I know your fridge and pantry are empty. I’ll get them ready shortly.”

“I’ll wash up then.”

You follow not long after, preparing his outfits for the second half of the week, then setting out the breakfast for both of you. He returns to the kitchen wearing the brown suit you chose for today, looking just as handsome as you remember. You fix his tie like you always do and meet his eyes like it’s reflex, the warmth bubbling within you when he returns your soft smile. You take your seat a chair away, taking your iPad after to start going through updates when he stops you.

“Not yet, please. My mind’s still half asleep.”

“Okay, sir,” you respond. “We can talk about your trip instead. How was it?”

Jungkook finds himself more engaged in telling you about it, not like how he was when his best friends met him for dinner last night and he was too tired to narrate how it went. But you ask with such excitement that he ends up sharing more than what he planned.

He talks about the Vikings museum and historical tours, the bike rides and coastal walks, the calm but lively cities and the breathtaking waterfalls. He even mentions the things he’d only kept to himself - like that one evening when the sky looked like one of Lee Jaemin’s paintings that had him staying at the balcony with a glass of wine while basking in its beauty, and when they were in Hans Christian Andersen’s hometown and he wondered what kind of fairytale character he would be, and that he learned he really enjoys hot springs during the winter. They’re random thoughts that he just ended up saying, somehow feeling natural and comfortable in sharing them with you.

You indulge him, asking more and sharing your thoughts, too. You even throw in the occasional teasing remark and playful laughter. You ask about the scenery, expressing your yearning for the outdoors that you said you never really appreciated before, as the open space always overwhelmed you.

He passes you his iPad where he’s opened the folder of the photos that he took with his camera, a gift from Taehyung who’d said that Jungkook needed to go out more and “feel the sun.” He rarely used it but a Northern Europe trip seemed like the perfect excuse. He’s used to assessing interiors and marveling at structures from afar, but this time he got to appreciate what lies beyond his walls, beyond the little world he’s been burrowing himself in.

“These are stunning, Jungkook,” you gush, dropping the formalities as he shares something that feels so personal. “I didn’t know you had the talent for photography, too.”

“I wouldn’t call it a talent,” he shakes his head. “I took it as an elective during university and it helps with design ideas. I should at least take nice photos if I need inspiration or a basis. I don’t really do it much, though.”

“Did it make you feel good, at least?” You ask, wondering what else gives him satisfaction.

“Somehow. It makes me feel good when I’m looking at the pictures. I’m transported to that day and that place again, like a holder of memories and desire for the good things.”

You go through the photos - dozens of them. He didn’t take too many, just one or two shots of every scenery. Beyond the majestic landscape, there are the everyday scenes - people talking at a cafe, strangers enjoying the park. There’s a couple holding hands, laughing at each other; from the silhouettes, you can tell they’re Hoseok and A-yeong, a moment that Jungkook probably thought too precious to not capture.

Something in you stirs, as the photos elicit a mix of awe and yearning. You look at Jungkook and you think it’s what he felt, too.

There’s a saying you heard about watching what people photograph to learn what they fear losing. With Jungkook, it seems as if these - freedom, tranquility, connection, intimacy - are things he wants; somehow they seem to be what he fears having.

“It’s nice to have a keeper of good memories, isn’t it? Of that reminder that beautiful things exist and that they’re tangible, you know?” You say, returning his gadget.

“It is,” he responds after a beat of silence, seemingly processing your words. “We forget sometimes. Or maybe, we just don’t know what that’s like. In that case it’s like an illusion. But it’s still good to have that, I guess. It’s still something.”

You don’t know what more could be said. It feels too personal or even intimate of a conversation to have with your boss on a Wednesday morning as you eat breakfast in his apartment. So you let it go, smiling as you say you’re glad he got to have some rest.

He says that so does he and then asks about how your holiday was as you both head to the car. You talk about it during the ride, how you spent a week in Wando with your mother’s partner’s family and then drove to Jeonju, how the entirety of your break had you stuffing your face with food and bonding with them, and how they drove you back to Seoul last weekend, thankful that for those two weeks, they had you around.

You don’t tell Jungkook that some days, you’d think of him, wondering how he’s doing. You don’t tell him that you’d seen A-yeong’s posts and that he looked at peace in them, that there was a softness in his eyes that you’ve rarely seen on him. You don’t tell him that despite the vacation that you said you were looking forward to, you were also looking forward to this - having him back, sharing stories, and living in the silence alongside him.

You wonder, as you glance at him looking out the window, if this is what you meant about savoring the moment, enjoying what’s in front of you, and feeling less alone. Because right now, those are exactly what you feel.

Jungkook wanted to wait to get to the office before proceeding to work matters, something that surprises you because he always gets down to business immediately, not unless he’s recovering from a hangover. But he blew you off even in the car, wanting instead to listen to your stories and then doodle on his leather notebook again for the rest of the ride. You end up meeting with him for an hour before he settles in, then he goes to lunch with his father, meets with your team, and then decides to visit the Arts Center mid-afternoon.

Work is back in full-swing just like that, and you pull the energy from within you to manage the crazy week. There are start-of-the-year events to attend and organize, a board report and meeting to prepare for, new projects to initiate, and a major one to monitor.

You’re glad that despite all that, Jungkook allows you to have a four-day off on the succeeding week so you can celebrate your birthday with a road trip down coastal towns with Jimin and Soomin. It’s a silly thing to do in the middle of winter, but they insist that warmth is most satisfying when it’s cold outside, and you don’t disagree. You’ll definitely be sighing in relief when you hold the steaming hot hotteok in between your hands, and it’ll be the best one you’ll have.

It’s Thursday and you’ll be back in a week. You’ve just finished briefing Do-hyun, who’ll be covering for you while you’re away, and you get off your chair to grab tea in the pantry. Jungkook’s voice stops as you, as he stands by his door and asks if you’re already leaving.

“In an hour, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Is there anything I can help you with until then?”

“No, nothing,” he says. “I’m actually about to leave for dinner with Taehyung and Seokjin.”

“Oh, alright, sir,” you hum. “Goodbye, then. And I’ll see you next week. Just know that you’re the only one who can disturb me.”

He laughs in response. “Come on, I won’t be badgering you, especially on your birthday. It’s your one week away from me. You have to savor it.”

“So should you,” you counter. “But okay. I will.”

“Good,” he nods. “I’ll just fix up and go ahead then.”

He returns to his room and you’re just the tiniest bit disappointed that he didn’t properly greet you but you suppose that’s good for you. So you go to the pantry and end up chit-chatting with the team, finding yourself smiling when you look up and see Jungkook by the door, who tells everyone not to stay too late before he heads out.

You arrive back at your desk, your heart beating fast at the sight of a small brown bag on your table.

For your trip. Something to help remind you that beautiful things exist and they’re tangible, the note reads. Happy birthday.

Your mind goes to a conversation you had not long ago, about how photos can elicit certain emotions and be a keeper of memories, especially of good ones. You know this is from Jungkook, and you also have an idea of what this might be, which is why you open the package right away.

Still, it catches you by surprise, especially when you find two disposable film cameras inside. They’ll definitely be enough for your upcoming trip and you know the photos will come out amazingly. You’re ecstatic.

Perhaps this is why he wanted to leave before you did - you’d thank him and he’d be terrible at accepting it again, then you’ll call him out for it. Maybe it was good he hadn’t stuck around to see you act this way. At least he didn’t see you with that silly smile on your face.

But Yoongi does as you head down the elevator, smirking at you when he sees the bag you’re holding and the familiar handwriting on the card.

“I’m guessing you’re not fighting it anymore, huh?” He says, teasing yet somehow still comforting.

“I’m trying not to, even if I know I’m being stupid,” you admit. “I can at least have these fleeting moments of joy after I walk away from this.”

“Retain the good memories. That’s one way to let things go,” Yoongi advises, as he exits the carriage on the parking lot floor.

The doors close on your smiling face, and he chuckles to himself at the irony of things. That’s how he learned to let you go, after all.

You return to work the following week with a spring in your step, with Jungkook noticing as you heat up the fried rice that you told him you’d be preparing for breakfast. You hum as you go about in the kitchen, feeling energized after the last few days you’ve had.

It was freezing, but you, Soomin, and Jimin went a little crazy and ran down the beach whenever you drove by one, something you all did as kids living in Busan. The drives from town to town were slow but they had you all singing to your favorite songs, munching on chestnuts and bungeoppang, and stopping over viewing sites for fresh air and photos.

You used Jungkook’s gift a lot, taking pictures of things that elicited strong emotions and good memories - purple and orange skies, snow melting on the pavement, the crashing ocean waves turning white at the tip, an empty playground in the park, Soomin’s infectious laughter, Jimin’s angelic smile.

The cold was an excuse to seek your best friends’ warmth and they took advantage of it. It reminded you of those few years growing up with them before you returned to Daegu for college, something you and Jimin reminisced about, and something that you thanked him for after what seemed like ages. You recalled how he approached you first as the new girl who entered school in the middle of the school year, how he followed you around because you were always alone and was scared of loud noises, and how he’s never left your side since then.

Every night during that trip, he hugged you as you tried to fall asleep, knowing you needed it for the cold you felt inside and out. He was next to you when you talked about Jungkook gifting you the cameras and admitted that it made you feel good, that it made you happy.

“I’m glad he’s showing you kindness,” Jimin had said. “But… just be careful, okay? Your heart is capable of a lot of good things. Pain is the last thing it deserves.”

“I don’t really know what my heart is capable of,” you replied. “My brain does the hurting but my heart… I don’t know what it does. I don’t know how it works.”

It left him speechless then and somehow, you were glad that he just held you tighter, only because it was the only way you wanted to be comforted at that moment. But you also knew that whatever your heart ended up doing or experiencing, Jimin and Soomin would be there to help you make sense of it, to pick up the pieces should they need to.

“It seems as though your birthday rejuvenated you, ___,” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. “You look much lighter and relaxed.”

“Only because I haven’t checked my emails nor taken new instructions from you,” you laugh as you serve the fried rice in bowls then head towards him. You fix his suit again and speak casually like you’ve gotten used to. “Once I open that iPad and see what I have to deal with, relaxed would be the last thing I’ll be.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles. “Let me savor this then.”

His words catch you off guard and they prompt you to meet his eyes - soft yet piercing, then he turns shy and turns away from you. Perhaps he’s surprised at what he’d said, too.

“Work is stressful and your calmness rubs off on me most times,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ve got a busy few days ahead and I want that calmness to linger.”

“It will,” you assure him. “And yes, I feel rejuvenated, and that’ll probably last me for days so that will linger, even if I’m stressed, so don't worry. You’re gonna do well. I don’t doubt it one bit.”

Jungkook’s meeting the Culture Minister next week to present the Arts Center’s plans and activities leading to its opening to the public, which is why you think he needs that calmness as well. The team has been helping him with the preparations and while you felt bad that you didn’t get to contribute as much, he assured you that all the notes you left him have been instrumental.

But still, his words affect you. Is this calm and relaxed version of you all he wants to savor? Does it mean anything more?

The thoughts wander away as you have breakfast with him, and he asks if you wish to talk about work later on but you insist that you’re mentally ready for it all. He’s the one who gives you updates this time, and just like that, you’re back to your usual routine.

You glance at his plate, all clean right after because even this dish, he savors. And you realize that doing things for him, no matter how simple, makes you happy, too, especially when his lips turn up in a small smile and he nods in satisfaction.

“Good, huh?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“It’s infinitely better than mine,” he hums.

“So, it’s really, really, really good then?”

“You don’t even know how mine tastes like.”

“True. But Taehyung said once that yours was really delicious and I’ll take his word for it. Seokjin agreed and I believe them.”

“Wow, really? That’s a rare moment where they praise me,” Jungkook laughs.

“You should savor that, too.”

“I should. Heavens know the last time that happened. And when it’ll happen again.”

“That’s kind of hard though, isn’t it?” You say, being a bit reflective as you go back to your daily routine after a trip that you wholly enjoyed. “Savoring things… capturing them, appreciating them. Like, you have to be in the moment, you have to be present, and that’s not easy to do.”

“It isn’t,” he responds after a while. “You have to care enough for something to be worth savoring, I guess.”

“Exactly. But how do you do that when everything is temporary - things, feelings… people. Not all of them are meant to stay,” you reply, meeting his eyes as they seem to be in deep thought.

“Maybe they will… if you ask them to,” he softly says.

“That depends.”

“On what?” He asks.

“If they have a reason to,” you shrug.

Your faraway eyes tell him that you’re in deep thought, perhaps processing the exchange that even Jungkook can’t fully wrap his head around. But you turn to him not long after, smiling as you take the plates to clean up, as if you’d just snapped out of a trance, of a moment of honesty.

He watches you from his seat. There’s an aura about you that truly feels more relaxed, yet there seems to be an added layer of pensiveness, of deep thinking that could easily be mistaken for savoring the moment when you might be questioning it, perhaps wondering if it’s real… or worth caring about in the first place.

Even until now, he doesn’t know what it is about you that has him hanging on to every word you say, like it’s some secret message or code to learning who you are and what your fears and pains and hopes and dreams might be.

In the past months, his moments with you have allowed him a peek inside - there’s this yearning for something that you’re not ready for; there’s this knowledge of the fleeting nature of the world that you want to capture as memories because that’s the only way you can make them stay; there’s this desire for companionship that terrifies you more than anything.

But then again, as he sees that soft courage in your eyes, maybe he knows why - he has the same fears as you, and perhaps that’s terrifying, too, as he realizes that much of what he’s scared of is tangible.

He fears the emptiness left in your absence and the silence surrounding him when you’re gone. His trip over the holidays made him think so; this past week when you were away solidified it. There’s a lot of you to miss. He’s unsure how to deal with these thoughts and feelings; he doesn’t know how to move forward and be professional when you affect him this way. All he can hope for is that you’ll always find a reason to stay close to him, that you’ll always find a reason to want him around, and that every moment you share is something worth it enough for you to savor but that you both never have to let go.

You think about the conversation with Jungkook later that night on your way home. There’s something about the impermanence of the world that’s always scared you; things break and wither away all the time and you fear the loss in their absence. Perhaps it’s because you’ve experienced various types of losses throughout your years of living.

You lost that childhood innocence the first time you saw your mother cry, then when her smile that finally returned was wiped off, and then when her hopeful eyes became filled with tears out of fear. You lost that comfort of a routine when you left Seoul at 10 years old, and then that stability when you said goodbye to your life in Busan. You lost that security when you decided to come back here with a dream tucked away, burdened with a debt and a past that you couldn’t escape. You lost that feeling of freedom when your favorite library closed, and then of safety during that night at the restaurant when you were hurt and exposed.

It’s hard to savor things when you know you’ll lose them one day. But that’s also precisely why you should, as what these past months have been showing you, you think now. The absence reminds you that something good was in its place, and that at one point in time, it made you hope that you deserved it, that you were worthy of having it.

But as you lay in bed that night and think of how much of Jungkook you thought about while you were away, you start to think that maybe things aren’t as temporary as you once believed. He was in the icy streets that you walked on and the warmth of the hot chocolate drink you had. He was in the drizzle on the playground that you wiped off and the touch of the leather notebook you saw at one of the shops.

And perhaps that was the difference - you didn’t just stand by; somehow it felt like you connected with them - they were tangible, within your grasp, and that made them linger, that made them feel real. In your mind, that’s where they stayed.

The tail-end of winter marks the time when you’ve settled in the new year. All your backlog from the holidays and your short birthday break have been worked on. Operational plans and goals for the year have been finalized. The Board report and meeting are over and major events have been scheduled. Things are picking up now as the Arts Center is near its completion, with the consequent promotions and marketing on full speed. That last bit has been contracted to a subsidiary company but Jungkook is still on top of most things, which means that so are you.

You accompany him to meetings with different departments regularly, and that’s on top of monitoring the other small projects that the VP office is working on, which is also on top of supporting Jungkook’s executive functions. In a blink of an eye, you’re back to the hustle and bustle nature of your job, and you’re reminded of why it’s been so hard to get out of it, and also why you can’t wait to do so.

There’s just so much going on all at once, and given how you are, you give all of yourself to it because it’s the only way to get things done; it’s the only way to get through it without feeling like you’re taking for granted all that you’ve been given and achieved. But it also means you’ve lost the sense of meaning of most other things, and you wanna be able to do something that means something to you, something of good memories, of beautiful things that are tangible that you can touch and feel.

You let go of the thoughts when Do-hyun and Yohan pop in your area to say goodbye. It’s another long night for everyone and you’re glad that they finally listened to you and decided to go home. You say that you still have a couple of things to work on when they insist that they walk you to the bus stop, telling them once more that you’ll be fine.

“It’s forecasted to rain soon,” Do-hyun informs you.

“I’ll get a cab, don’t worry,” you assure them. “Finance needs these files first thing tomorrow morning and we’ve got that ocular at 8. Thank you though.”

“Fine, but let us know when you’re home, okay?” She says.

“I will. Get home safely, you two.”

You get back to work, and with the peace and quiet in the office with you being the last one here, you manage to finish what you need to in an hour and then finally call it a night. You head out and sigh to yourself once you see the lightning strike, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the rain will begin to pour. You manage to bring out your umbrella by the time it does, then turn at the corner to look for a cab so you can avoid those who’ll be hailing from the main road.

There are a few people who have the same idea as you, and it’s after some time before you spot one, with the driver slowing down once he sees you. But right as you start speed walking towards it, some man decides to get ahead, running past you and bumping you in the process, causing you to lose your balance. The wet pavement doesn’t help, as you slip on your foot and fall to the ground. You try to get up but jerk in pain when you do, realizing that you’d hurt your ankle, a foreign feeling that has you immediately worrying.

After all the times you’d found yourself under the rain, this is the worst moment of all - you’re hurting, all alone, and completely worn out. You’ve had a really long day and you don’t have the energy for this; all you want is to go home and have some rest. But you know there’s no other way, so you shift on your bum, manage to get up and strain your arms in the process, then you limp to the nearest post you can find using your umbrella as a walking stick then stand on one foot.

The rain has weakened a little, so you’re at least not getting even more wet, but it’s still winter and you’ve started to freeze. There are no other cabs in sight and all ride-hailing apps have been such a pain to book. Knowing that it’ll be tough to get home in any way at this stage and that you won’t be able to manage on your own, you decide to call Mr. Ri. He’s always told you that if you need help for anything, he’s another person that you could call.

It’s half past 8 in the evening. You’re banking on him being on the way home after having dropped Jungkook off at his building after a dinner meeting at 5:30.

“Hey, ___. Is everything alright?” Mr. Ri asks, knowing you rarely call at this hour.

“Not really,” you sigh, the shiver in your voice evident. “Have you dropped Jungkook off?”

“Not yet. But what do you mean, not really? What happened?”

“Are you driving?”

“No. I’m still waiting for him to finish. Tell me, are you in danger?” He presses, and you hear the worry in his voice.

You told him about Chi-won some weeks after it happened, and Mr. Ri, having known you for many years, knows you’re not one to usually reach out. He’s made it a point to check on you regularly, and calls like this would definitely ring some alarm bells.

“I’m not in danger but I hurt myself,” you say, quickly appeasing him that it’s probably just a sprained ankle and not that serious. “I just can’t get any ride and I can barely walk. I was hoping you were on the way home.”

“I’m not but I’ll go get you, okay? I’ll tell Jungkook and we’ll drive to you right away.”

“Mr. Ri, he’s in a meeting!”

“That’s most likely over and now they’re just chatting over drinks,” he reasons. “I’ll get him. You know he’ll want me to.”

“You don’t know that,” you stammer.

“You weren’t there with him the days after what happened that night at the restaurant, ___,” he huffs. “I just knew it was really bad because of how worried he was, and he’s never been that way. So yes, I know he’ll want me to get his ass out of there and be on the way to you. Plus, I’m sure he’ll fire me if I don’t.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Just don’t make it sound so bad because it really isn’t.”

“You know I can’t control how that kid reacts,” he hums. “Just send me your location.”

Mr. Ri heads out of the driver’s lounge and rushes to the restaurant where he manages to send a message to Jungkook that you’re stranded somewhere with possibly a sprained ankle. He says it as it is, knowing that Jungkook won’t need much to decide on ending the meeting and go to you, which he does right away.

“What happened?” He asks the older man as they both walk towards the basement parking.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask any more questions,” Mr. Ri responds. “She’s somewhere near the office. We’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Try for 15,” Jungkook instructs.

He calls you right after and he immediately picks up on your chattering teeth.

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?”

You’re a little surprised when Jungkook calls this soon, and with how you’re trying to move past whatever attraction you have towards the man, this really isn’t helping.

“Just… cold. My umbrella flew away,” you laugh. “The wind’s picked up and I think it’s gonna rain again.”

Just as you say so, it starts, and you pick up on the change in Jungkook’s voice. You’ve since learned that he’s not fond of it, always closing his eyes and trying to tune everything out with even just a drizzle. But he continues talking and asks what happened, trying to keep you company. You narrate the incident and attempt to play it off as something minor, although the longer you stay leaning against the post, the more pain you’re starting to feel.

“We’re five minutes away. We’ll be there soon,” he assures you then drops the call.

Jungkook clenches his fist and closes his eyes as the rain continues to pour. With the sound of the thunder, he jerks in his seat like he always does, but he pushes forward, knowing you need his help. He takes deep breaths just as he’s learned to do, and not long after, Mr. Ri informs him that he sees you just meters away.

The car slows down and Jungkook looks outside the window. He can see you leaning against a pole on one foot, drenched and shivering, your eyes closed as you wait for them to arrive. He meets Mr. Ri’s eyes in the rear view mirror as they halt, and with the rain just barely stopping, the older man nods and exits the car.

Jungkook watches from inside as Mr. Ri runs to you. He sees the smile on your face despite the droplets on the window. The older man takes your bag then helps you walk, leading you to the car where Jungkook manages to push the door open.

You slowly enter with as much energy you can muster, wincing in pain when you have to adjust your foot inside. You sigh in relief as you feel the warmth and dryness of the car, prompting you to apologize for getting it all wet.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shakes his head. “We’ll take you to the hospital, okay? And I won’t accept no for an answer.”

You nod in agreement, knowing that much as you’re causing him inconvenience right now, you’re too tired to argue. You lean your head by the window and try to catch your breath.

“Have you had dinner? He asks.

“Not yet. I was supposed to grab it on the way home.”

“We’ll pass by somewhere after the hospital.”

“Okay,” you look at him and smile.

Jungkook isn’t surprised when you don’t counter him. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion, as he sees it in how your smile isn’t as bright as what he’s used to, with it fading as you turn away. You’re still shivering though, despite the car heater being turned up. He doesn’t have a towel to dry you up, though, so he instead removes his coat and instructs you to lean forward so he can place it over your shoulders to warm your back. He takes his puffer jacket from the front seat and puts it over your lap right after, giving you warmth there, too.

“Is that better?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you mouth. “Thank you.”

His scent wafts through your senses, allowing you to breathe and feel all of him at once. It’s the closest thing to tangible comfort you’ve gotten from him, and you hate how good it feels.

You’re just about to fall asleep when the car comes to a stop. The rain has subsided and perhaps that’s why soon after, you hear Jungkook open his door and then your door, too. He removes his coat over your back, placing it back inside, then he holds onto your forearms to help you climb out. He takes his jacket and instructs you to wear it, giggling at how you’re being swallowed in it.

“I look ridiculous,” you pout as you sit on the wheelchair that he’s asked the nurse to get.

“Just a little,” he teases.

He walks next to you as you’re wheeled inside the hospital, staying close by when you explain to the ER doctor what happened. She assesses your foot and lower leg, diagnosing you with a sprained ankle like you expected, and proceeds to wrap it in elastic bandage.

She treats the minor scratches on your palms you got from the fall then writes you a prescription for painkillers. Jungkook takes it so he can buy them for you after, then he helps you settle the bill with your insurance.

You’re quite uncomfortable - you’re still a little wet and the bandage feels foreign around your foot. But you’re also feeling a bit shy, now that Jungkook is the one pushing the wheelchair towards the pharmacy nearby. He parks you at the side while he buys the medicine, and as you look on, you can’t help the relief mixed with giddiness that you feel despite the pain that’s close to overtaking you.

He stands by the counter with his white dress shirt slightly untucked and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands are in his pockets while he waits for the pharmacist to return, and amidst everything that’s going on, you’re still able to admire how overwhelmingly handsome he looks, especially given what he’s doing right now for you. His side view is quite blinding, so you’re slightly embarrassed when he turns around and calls your name again after you missed it the first few times.

“Dazed and tired?” He asks as he walks back to you with a pack of medicines.

“Definitely,” you say, which isn’t a lie; it’s just not the whole truth. “I just want to eat and have a nice bath and then sleep.”

“And you’ll do all that soon,” he assures you. “We’ll pass by whatever’s open on the way to your place. Just make sure you don’t have the hot water on, okay? And then elevate your foot when you sleep.”

“Yes, I heard everything she said,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“Including the full-on rest that’s required of you for the next few days?” He raises an eyebrow. “Because that’s what you’re gonna have. You’re on leave until you’re able to walk properly again, Ms. Cho.”

“So now you’re being formal,” you tease, flashing him a playful smile. “But yes, Mr. Jeon. The instructions are understood.”

“Good,” he laughs softly. “Glad you’re not being stubborn about it.”

“Oh, not with this one, not when I’m this tired and in this much pain.”

His look turns sullen at the admission of what you’re feeling and you wish he didn’t feel this bad. But you can’t deny the way it’s giving you butterflies, prompting you to scold yourself internally because learning how caring he is isn’t exactly what you need to get over a crush. This is definitely the worst part about being injured, you decide.

You make it out of the hospital and he helps you again as you enter the car, sliding in next to you as he ensures that you’re warm.

You pass by a noodle house on the way, and he buys you some more food for the next day despite your insistence that he didn’t have to. But you’re too tired to argue some more, and you doze off a little during the drive to your apartment, with your half-awake self mumbling your apology about taking up his time.

Jungkook playfully shakes his head. Knowing you’re probably shallow sleep-talking, he disregards your words. He just gets glimpses of you, comforted to know that you’re at least getting the most rest you can have, given your current state. The painkillers will kick in soon and that’ll help you sleep better, but right now, he wishes he could do more for you.

In the deepest crevices of his heart, he wants to hold your still shivering hands and maybe hug your trembling body. He wants to stay with you until you’re warm and comfortable in your bed, perhaps assure you in whatever way that you’re not alone, that there’s help whenever you need it. He can’t imagine how it would’ve been like for you being under the rain, cold and hurt with no one around.

On second thought, he can, and that’s the thing about it. Even if you get out of it with just a sprained ankle - considering how much worse it could’ve been - it’s still terrifying being alone and powerless, paralyzed on the spot and not knowing if anyone will show up. He wants nothing more than for you to get over that and be able to move past it because he knows how haunting it could be; he knows how restraining such memories are.

But he also knows that there’s not much he could do - not with the unnamed feelings he can’t express, and not with the line he still believes he shouldn’t cross.

So he settles for glances and soft smiles at your fluttering eyes and slightly parted mouth. You look tired but peaceful; he thinks it’s quite endearing. It also feels intrusive so he looks away, out into the streets that he’s able to somehow see now. He thinks about the timing of it all - your late night and his dinner out, your injury and the bad weather. He’s thankful that the rain subsided and that allowed him to help you as much as he was able to, and that he got to you in the first place.

You arrive at your apartment with you now fully awake, and Jungkook heads to your side right away. Pulling you out of the car requires more strength from him, and despite your terrible condition, the butterflies appear once more when he instructs you to hold onto him for support. You have to act unaffected when you feel his broad shoulders and taut arms, with your hands gingerly laying on them; you wonder if he feels anything, too, under the thin material of his dress shirt.

His left hand only grazes your waist but his hold tightens after you grant him permission, perhaps knowing that it would be harder for you if he holds you that loose, he asked you to put your weight on him after all. Despite your agreement, you still hold in your breath, a silly attempt at slowing down your quickening heartbeat. He’s never been this close, and you’re unsure if you want him to be anywhere else.

You suspend your thoughts for the shortest of seconds until you both manage to get up the few steps to your door. Mr. Ri helps in unlocking it, and you settle on the dining chair that Jungkook pulls out for you after you both enter.

As you release a breath and watch him look around, it’s then you realize that your boss - the Jeon Corporation Vice President who lives in a penthouse in an exclusive district in Seoul - is in your tiny studio apartment that’s literally just the size of his bedroom. You’re not ashamed one bit but you are a little shy, so you jokingly welcome him to your “little mansion.”

“It’s nice,” he hums, looking around some more, which he doesn’t need to move to do.

The small round dining table, the off-the-wall kitchen, and the three-seater couch are all in the open living space. There’s a half-wall that separates your sleeping area, with your double bed against it and the tiniest of balconies just off of it.

You’re quite proud of what you’ve made of the place, with the plants in the corners, some chic art pieces on the walls, and photos with your friends and family on stick-on frames resting on the shelves. It’s cozy and comfortable for you, and you feel quite proud when Jungkook’s lips turn up when you respond that you’re happy here when he asks.

“It’s everything I need,” you hum. “And it’s in a safe part of town. My neighbors are older couples who are all kind.”

“That’s good,” he says, turning to you. “Will they be much help to you while you recover?”

“I’ll be okay,” you insist. “I have a crutch. I’ve got food to heat up, and my place is so small that I don’t have to move around to get things done. I don’t really need help, you know?”

He scrunches his eyebrows, seemingly unconvinced.

“Watch,” you say, your shallow confidence pushing you to grab the crutch next to you then using it to walk towards him so you could prove that you’re capable enough to look after yourself.

But your unfamiliarity with it leads you to mistime your step. Before you know it, you’re tripping on your foot and losing your balance, and as your life is about to flash before your eyes thinking that you’re gonna fall once again and make your injury worse, Jungkook’s reflex kicks in and he steps forward to catch you. You feel his grip on your waist gradually tighten as if to keep you steady, as if to make sure you’re alright. He’s so close, you can feel his breath as he pants, the worried look on his face something you’re familiar with by now. But he stays there, inches away, and so do you.

He’s bending, so he stays leveled with you. You can see his long eyelashes resting on his honeyed skin and the endearing curve of his nose. He looks so soft like this, comfortable even, with his big round eyes looking like the most innocent ones you’ve ever seen.

The voice in your head suddenly becomes loud enough and you break his gaze, realizing then that you’re also clutching onto his shoulder for support. You give him a look of apology but he just laughs, something you’re thankful for because the last thing you want is for the tension to thicken.

“You’re stubborn, aren’t you? You think it’s that easy?” He shakes his head, his tone sounding like he’s both teasing and reprimanding you.

“It seemed like it,” you shrug, allowing him to help you back on the seat, disregarding the slightest bit of giddiness you feel as he has one hand on your free arm while the other ghosts over your waist in case you fall again.

“It’s not. And I know this because I’ve used this before,” he says. “So since you’ll be by yourself, we have to make sure you can at least use the crutch without falling, okay?”

“Fine,” you concede, listening to his instructions carefully then trying to do it on your own.

It takes some getting used to, but after a few tries, you manage to at least walk without tripping. You plan on just staying in bed or on the couch tomorrow anyway so you’re not that worried. Even if Jungkook still seems to be.

“I’m okay,” you insist. “I’m gonna survive. But you should head home. It’s getting late and you have that ocular in the morning. I’ll just have to email Chin-sun about accompanying you and—”

“None of that,” he interjects. “I’ll be the one to tell her and I don’t want you worrying about work tomorrow, okay? You’re gonna take your medicine and just rest.”

“You’re demanding, aren’t you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Only when I’m dealing with someone as stubborn as you,” he counters.

You just laugh at him answering back, enjoying your banter more than you should, then he says that he’ll go ahead, for as long as you’re sure you can manage. It takes another five minutes until he makes it out the door. But before he disappears, you call his name, your heart skipping a beat when he turns around, as if he’s just hanging onto your every word.

“Thank you,” you say. “I know it was a long day and it was raining but… you still came for me.”

“Just recover quickly, okay? I’ll check on you in the morning.”

You nod and he leaves. And just like that, you’re once again on your own - damp, injured, and extremely tired. Jungkook’s presence remains in your apartment though, and there he is again, making you smile and making you feel things you shouldn’t.

You don’t mind being alone. In fact, you enjoy it. But during the times when you don’t want to be, he just happens to be there. And being the stubborn woman that you are, deep down, you like it that he is, that in your own little world with the walls up so high, he’s become a frequent visitor. You’re just not sure if you want him to stay just yet.

You wake up the next morning feeling faint and sore, and it’s probably the painkillers having lost their effect. And there’s a reason why, seeing that it’s close to midday when you finally get out of bed. You manage to stand and walk to the kitchen with no issues, and you take your medication and heat up the food that Jungkook bought for you last night. It’s when you’re seated that he calls, bringing that smile to your otherwise uneventful day.

“Hello?”

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Just fine. I took my medicines for the day and I’m about to eat lunch,” you reply. “And you? How was the ocular?”

“It was good. It has a lot of potential so I’ll run down the details with the teams and propose it. But speaking of sites, remember what I said about Hoseok and I thinking of a Scandinavian-inspired mid-rise in the mountains?”

“Yeah, the one you came up with during your trip. Are you gonna push through with it soon?”

“Perhaps. I’ve gotten emails of proposed sites for some other projects but I’ve seen a few that could work with this idea,” he shares. “There’s one in Gangwon that’s near the town center so it would be practical for many. There’s even— ah, why am I saying this to you now? You’re off the clock.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. Jungkook doesn’t always show this much excitement with the projects he has to manage so when he does, you encourage him. It’s also an excuse to hear more of his voice. “My mind’s not prepared for being home today anyway so I’m a little disoriented. But that’s good. I can look into the sites and we can do an ocular whenever you prefer.”

“Alright, that’s something to schedule for next month. But uh, you sure you’re fine? Does your ankle still hurt? Did you get proper sleep?”

“Well, I slept like a baby,” you giggle. “And I at least remained in one position. It still hurts a bit but it should be okay in the next few days. I’m just gonna have to replace the bandage tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. Just make sure to ice it and keep it elevated.”

“Yes, boss,” you tease, earning you a groan. “But uh, thank you for checking up on me. I know you’ve got a busy day ahead.”

He’s silent, and you suppose it’s him again not knowing how to respond to gratitude, so you follow it up by saying that you’ll eat your meal now and reminding him of his meeting at 2PM.

“You better not be checking your emails and my calendar right now,” he warns.

“I’m not. I just memorize your schedule,” you defend.

“Okay then, I’ll go ahead.”

Jungkook drops the call and sinking in his seat, he sighs in relief. He managed to get through that conversation without sounding extremely worried, which is what he’s been since last night. His busy day today actually includes constantly worrying about how you’re doing, but he supposes it’s too much to let you know. Sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but knowing how you tend to move about, anything can happen. You were all alone for some time last night, too, just waiting for a way to get home. And that’s another thing he worries about - that fear latching onto you, that helplessness weighing you down.

He asks Mr. Ri if he’s heard from you, thinking that you’d probably be more honest with him, but the older man says you told him the same thing.

“Don’t you believe her?” Mr. Ri wonders.

“I do, but she’s quite stubborn though,” Jungkook laments.

“Well, I’ve known her for a while and she tends to just deal with things on her own,” Mr. Ri says.

“But she shouldn’t. She’s injured.”

“I think it’s natural for people who’ve been alone for many years to be that way,” the older man shrugs. “I mean, you’re the same.”

Jungkook doesn’t disagree. And if you’re truly anything like him, then you’d just push through the pain and force it to stop hurting so you can go back to your normal busy life because doing so keeps you from thinking of how lonely it feels when you’re sick or hurt and there’s no one around. It’s how he’s always been, too, he admits to himself.

The thought disturbs him, which is why he messages you three more times during the day and then again the next morning, asking if he could drop by. He’s expecting you to insist that you’re fine and he doesn’t need to, so it surprises him when you say that he could.

You’re pacing back and forth in your mind since you’re unable to physically do so, but the thought of Jungkook visiting you this Saturday morning is a lot for you to handle, even if you did say it was alright for him to come. The truth is, you wanted him to, only because selfishly, seeing someone be that worried about you gives you some form of comfort.

You called your family yesterday and told them about the injury, which they obviously panicked about. Your mom asked if you needed her to come to you but like always, you said she didn’t need to. You told Yoongi about it, too, and he was worried as well, in the classic way that he often is; he had food delivered to you for dinner last night so you didn’t have to think about it. You only told your best friends about it this morning and they were furious you waited so long to let them know; they were packing their stuff right as you were speaking to them two hours ago.

You know you have people to depend on and would be at your doorstep anytime you ask. These are the same people who’ve done that for years and you fully accept their care and attention; it’s become a part of you and your healing process. But when someone like Jungkook who, for whatever reason he has, shows you the same, it feels different; he goes out of his way to show it to you, and he’s not even someone who normally does it. It’s a new kind of comfort, one that you find yourself seeking. So when he called earlier and asked if he could drop by, there was an internal sigh of relief.

Over half an hour later, your doorbell rings, and you limp your way towards the door to open it.

Other than being in suits, you’ve only ever seen Jungkook in his gym clothes - half naked as well - and in night out wear. You realize that this is the first time you’re seeing him in a casual outfit, and with a jacket over a sweatshirt and a brown beanie, he looks different - there’s that boyish charm that you’ve never seen; he looks softer, kinder, still reserved but a lot more comfortable.

You let him in after your greetings, then you turn to him and smile.

“It’s really the suit, I know it now,” you tease. “It’s what makes you look intimidating.”

He looks at his attire then frowns at you. “So how do I look now?”

“Not intimidating.”

“Wow, what a surprise,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “Whereas you…” He eyes you in gray leggings and a blush jumper, looking soft and comfortable and even more like the bright spot he’s realized you are, but he’d never tell you that. “You look injured.”

“Gee, what a surprise. I feel injured, too,” you laugh. “But uhm, it’s nice of you to visit my humble mansion once again.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing better,” he hums. “And bring some more food so you don’t have to worry about it.”

You eye the beef brisket with rice and say that you know what you’ll be having for lunch. He responds that he might just go back to the restaurant and meet his best friends there, too. You return to your seat on the couch, realizing there’s not much room for him to sit on, but he gets to you first, standing in front of you and eyeing the elastic bandage on the table.

“Aren’t you due for a redress?” He asks.

“Yes but uh, I can’t actually reach my foot,” you say with an embarrassed smile. “I’m not really flexible so I’ll just wait until Soomin and Jimin arrive.”

“I can do it,” he offers, thinking that the bandage isn’t serving its purpose if it remains loose. “I mean, I’ve dressed myself on my own before so I’m familiar with it.”

It’s probably the painkillers but something possesses you and you agree, your mind too out of it to take the words back. A part of you wishes you had, especially when your heart does a thing when he kneels on the floor and slowly takes your injured foot. You wiggle your toes in reflex, as if they’re shy, too, and Jungkook laughs at your silly antics, especially when you admit that you’re a little ticklish.

But he softly looks at you right after and asks if he’s hurting you, and you shake your head, unable to say anything else and process that you really allowed this man - your boss and in-denial crush - to do this.

You sit there, charmed by the way he looks determined to get this done. He removes the old bandage and wipes your ankle before wrapping it with a new one. His hands are large and quite rough but he’s very gentle, making sure to not lift your foot too high and that the bandage isn’t wrapped too tightly. Once he’s finished, he lays it on the table and looks up at you to ask if it feels okay.

“Yes,” you shyly smile. “Thank you. That was, uh, that was really nice of you.”

He nods and stands up to throw the trash in the bin, wanting to quickly hide his smile at how wholesome you looked in thanking him.

He proceeds to look around, taking more of your home in. There’s something very calming about it, and it’s more than just the plants that you have and the right amount of sunlight coming from the balcony door and kitchen window. There’s also something familiar, as he looks through your shelf of photos, seeing your mom and her partner for the first time. She looks a lot like you. She has a nice smile like yours, and she sees that same joy on her face as he’d seen on you, as she hugs you tightly in one of the pictures.

The familiarity is similar to when he first had a whiff of your scent - old rose like the one his mother used to wear, one he remembers as a child when he still clung to her. There are those memories that stick with him. Others he doesn’t have anymore but that’s good, he supposes. Seeing your shelf, he sees all the good and tangible things you hold dear.

“The photo on the far right, the one with Soomin and Jimin. We took that during my birthday trip using your gift,” you tell him. “It came out really nicely.”

“It did. Did you finish the film? What else did you take photos of?”

“We used it all up,” you smile. “And just a lot of the scenery and the three of us. We all divided them so we could have copies and just remember how fun that week was.”

“Good, that’s what I hoped.”

Jungkook stands there, his jacket now off so his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his hands are in his pockets as he looks through your shelf. You wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s seeing, if any of this makes him curious. It’s as if he’s taking in all the small parts of who you are that he can see displayed before him. He turns to you and your eyes meet again, and for a moment, it feels like you’re really seeing him and he’s really seeing you, like there’s something only both of you share and understand and want and can give.

But the doorbell ringing disrupts it, with you wondering who it could be since your best friends won’t arrive until an hour from now. Jungkook walks to the door and opens it, surprised to see Yoongi who’s just as surprised to see his friend in your apartment.

“Hey, you’re back. And… here,” you smile, attempting to stand up but Yoongi tells you to stay put.

“I flew home last night and thought I’d visit and get you some food, but it seems like I’m second in line,” he says, his smug face causing you to glare at him.

“I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Jungkook defends. “I won’t stay long.”

“Of course you do. And I won’t stay long either. I don’t wanna disturb anything.”

He smirks at his friend, prompting Jungkook to glare at him as well.

“Yah, chill, you two. I’m really just passing by,” Yoongi reiterates, making his way now to sit on the arm of your sofa. “Just wanted to check on ___ and make sure she’s well-fed.”

“I’m injured, not starving, okay?” You groan. “But thanks. What have you got there?”

“Noodles, custard buns, and some tarts. Wasn’t sure what you’re into when you’re incapacitated,” Yoongi shrugs.

“I’m very much mobile,” you correct him. “Just… slow and limping.”

Jungkook pulls your dining chair and sits in front of you, and the three of you talk as if this isn’t weird at all. You’re all colleagues - you and Jungkook consider Yoongi as your friend, but you don’t know if you should consider your boss as such, and you don’t know if he considers you the same. You’ve definitely experienced a lot of things that could qualify what you have as friendship, but even then, there’s something more about it, something a little more intimate, different, terrifying.

You brave through this dynamic and learn that Yoongi likes to tell Jungkook off a lot. It’s the kind of bluntness you expect from Yoongi’s no-nonsense attitude but it’s refreshing to see him be more straightforward towards someone like Jungkook who you’re used to seeing as commanding and serious. Jungkook takes the hits, seemingly unbothered as they bicker, and it’s another side of him you enjoy seeing - the smiles and laughter are natural, and there’s this comfort about him that you suddenly want more of.

The time passes quickly, with the doorbell ringing again signaling that your friends have arrived. Yoongi gets up first to open the door, greeting them who do the same. You manage to stand up with Jungkook telling you to be careful, and when it dawns on them who else is in your apartment, Jimin’s face turns sour and Soomin’s goes from confused to amused.

Jungkook looks taken aback by the cold welcome, but he manages to introduce himself to them.

“Oh, we know,” Jimin says dryly. “You’re the one who gives her so much work that she had to do overtime again and that’s why she got hurt.”

You feel the tension come like a strong wave and you try to lower the level a little bit.

“He also brought me to the hospital and got me some food,” you tell Jimin, whose bitterness isn’t unfounded. He did listen to you complain about this very man all those months ago. “He’s just checking up on me, making sure I’m alright, the way you guys are.”

“As we should,” Jimin huffs. “At least we don’t cause you any injury or pain.”

“You don’t. But you do make things better so could you do that, please?” You say, opening your arms for a hug, something to appease him before it gets even more tense.

Jimin has the sweetest smile but wouldn’t be afraid to burn anyone down with his looks if they deserve it. Jungkook did at one point, but you obviously feel very differently about that now. But still, you glance at the man, hoping this encounter isn’t putting him off too much, and with the slight tinge of guilt in his eyes, you suppose it hasn’t.

Jungkook turns away, partly because a reminder of how he’d treated you before makes him regret even more how you both started, and partly because seeing you affectionate with any man - even if it’s your best friend - makes him a tiny bit jealous, only because it’s something he can’t be with you. Seeing you that way with Hajoon months ago was different; Jungkook had been more shocked than anything. But this time, given that his attraction towards you seems to grow every second, and that he’s been wanting nothing more than to comfort you, there’s more of that feeling of loss, of hope that it could be him one day, even if that’s something that’ll probably never happen.

“I know you dislike him but tone it down for now, okay?” You whisper to Jimin. “My place is too small to contain all this tension.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Seeing him just reminds me of what you had to go through because of him,” he says before pulling away. “But he did help. And well, Soo and I are still upset that you didn’t tell us sooner. You know we would’ve driven here on Thursday night.”

“I know, and that’s exactly why. You both had something big going on and I could wait,” you reply, a reason you give them everytime.

Wanting a short breather from all this, you excuse yourself and ask Soomin to help you with something in the bathroom, and she heads there right away.

“Can you make sure that those two don’t murder each other?” You whisper to Yoongi as you gesture towards Jimin and Jungkook.

“It would be entertaining if they did, but yes, I’ll try,” he chuckles.

You walk to where Soomin is and after closing the door, she looks at you with the same amusement that she’s had since she arrived.

“What in the romance drama is this!” She exclaims, lowering her voice when you scold at her to keep it down. “All your three men coming to your home to make sure you’re okay? Talk about making an impression.”

“They aren’t my men, okay!” You scowl at her. “They all just happened to have the same thought. And no, Jimin doesn’t count.”

“Whatever,” Soomin laughs. “It’s just… I know you’re hurt and that you’ll be okay but it’s just amusing to see them show up for you like this. Especially the big boss. He’s way hotter up close, I can tell you that.”

“Please don’t remind me,” you frown. “I wish there was a potion I could take to make him look unattractive to me so that I’d stop being so giddy at everything he does. And fuck, Soo, I haven’t been like this in ages. Or ever.”

“Well, you haven’t been this accepting of someone’s attention, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, and I’m being silly. I might just be putting myself up for disappointment here,” you groan. “I mean, I don’t even know what I’m feeling, but I know what I’m not supposed to feel. And he’s not making it any easier.”

“Your situation isn’t easy in the first place, hun. And there are many reasons why,” she sighs, wishing there was a way to uncomplicate this very complicated relationship you have with Jungkook. “But whatever it is you think you shouldn’t feel, think about what he may be feeling, too. He wouldn’t be making all this effort since Thursday night for this to just be nothing.”

“I wish none of that means anything. That’s probably gonna be easier, right? That he doesn’t feel anything remotely close to what I do? That’s probably better than dealing with all the complications.”

“Maybe, but we don’t really know,” Soomin says, pulling you in for a hug. “But also think about how new and different this feels. It might be worth it in the long run.”

You fall into her embrace, knowing that during the toughest times of your life, this was your saving grace. It’s no different when you’re confused and in need of guidance, and though you’ve always made decisions for yourself with knowledge of the consequences, Soomin was there to back you up during the times when you were going in somewhat blindly. She wants you to be happy, and you won’t really know if continuing to feel what you do about Jungkook will make you so. If all else fails, well, you could always go back home, or maybe return to Busan and start a life there. Jungkook will just be a memory; you hope to the heavens it’ll be a good one.

You shake away the thoughts and finally go back out and are relieved to find some peace. Jimin’s washing your dishes while talking to Yoongi who wipes them dry. Jungkook sits on your sofa, looking around quietly, but he stands when he sees you approach him.

“I’ll go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I… I think you’ve got everything you need.”

“Let me walk you there,” you smile.

He’s outside the door when you thank him again then apologize if Jimin made him uncomfortable.

“It’s okay. I’d be protective of my best friend, too, if I learned how their boss treated them,” he responds.

“I, uh… those were hard times and I may have complained quite a bit about you,” you pout. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sure I deserved it,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky you have them. I mean, my best friends tease me a lot and say shit about me to my face and behind my back.”

“Oh come on, Seokjin and Taehyung love you,” you laugh. “I’ve seen it, but you all also said you’re like that to each other; it’s how you guys grew up. I mean, I was the new girl in school and Jimin and Soomin have been protective since day one, whereas your best friends have shown you tough love since you were kids. They said you never accepted their affection so they switched tactics.”

“That’s fair. I was always shy and then turned into a bitter, introverted child. There was no transition, I guess. Now we’re adults and have just stuck with each other because we’re all we’ve ever known.”

“Well, you make decisions to stand by people, Jungkook. They do with you and you do the same with them. Plus, you’re not that insufferable,” you tease.

“At least you don’t think so. Not anymore, I hope,” he says softly, looking away.

“People deserve second chances. You gave me some and more and I… I’m glad you did. I at least get to see this side of you that’s helped me a lot these past months. I’m thankful. And I hope you know that.”

Jungkook just nods, unable to reply through words again. You let him, knowing it’s his default response. He walks to his car and turns around for a final goodbye, leaving you in anticipation for when you’d be with him again.

“Well, that was a long goodbye,” Yoongi says, surprising you as he stands behind you. “And no, I didn’t hear anything.”

You turn to him with a playful frown. “I was just making sure that Jimin didn’t make him feel too bad. I mean, I know I complained a lot but still. I didn’t want Jungkook to think I cursed his existence or something.”

“You did at one point though,” Yoongi laughs. “But it’s acceptable. Jungkook was rude, and heavens know how much shit I gave him for treating you the way he did.”

“You did, huh?”

“I always told you I’d look out for you, ___. Whatever happened or didn’t happen between us, I was always going to have your back.”

“You’re heaven-sent, Min Yoongi,” you smile. “I wish I could do half as much as you do for me.”

“You do more. I hope you don’t ever doubt the comfort that your presence gives to people. Maybe that’s what it’s done to Jungkook. And I know he hasn’t felt much of that in years.”

It’s Yoongi’s last words before he says goodbye, and they stay in your head for the next few days. Maybe Soomin’s right - all that Jungkook has been doing might mean something, and you hope that finding out what it is will all be worth it.

Jungkook decides to meet with his friends at one of his favorite restaurants for lunch. All he planned on doing today was visit you and he has nothing else going on for the rest of it. The club scene has become boring for him, and going to one only to bring home a woman to hook up with is no longer appealing, not when you invade his mind all the time.

Being welcomed in your home was refreshing. And even if it was awkward, meeting your friends allowed him another peak into your world. You choose the people you allow in, and you don’t choose many of them. The ones you do stay for a long time, and that’s the kind of person you seem to be. You value relationships so much that’s why you don’t have many of them, and with all that you went through and the vulnerability you’ve both shown each other, he’s started to hope that one day, he’d be deserving of that, too.

“So did you feel like a fish out of water being there with her actual friends?” Seokjin asks. “Because I don’t know what you’d consider your relationship with her is. Boss-assistant feels too simplistic at this point. Are you friends? Are you more? Or is that all too ambiguous?”

“I don’t… know,” Jungkook sighs. “We’re all that but we also aren’t. We’ve gone through so much that it doesn’t seem like there’s a way to define what we are. But I feel like I’ve seen her at her most vulnerable and we’ve connected because of that.”

“And what about you? Have you been vulnerable in front of her?” Seokjin asks.

Has he? Jungkook thinks. Maybe that first time he asked for your help with his new role but he supposes it’s nothing compared to what you’ve shown him, intentional or not.

“Not really. I… I don’t let myself be. That’s still distance I need to establish,” Jungkook reasons.

“More like, because you know that if you do show that side of you, you’re scared you’ll find out that she’ll understand, and that having her next to you is what you need to heal whatever parts of you that are still hurting?” Seokjin counters.

“I don’t want to need her, you know that. There’s a boundary I shouldn’t cross. She’s my assistant and—”

“You’ve been treating her like the most important person and it’s not hard to miss,” Taehyung interjects. “You were never like this, not since Chaerin.”

“I don’t even know what it is about ___ that just makes me consider risking things, you know?” Jungkook sighs. “I’m always torn with what our reality is and what we could be but I’m afraid that if we cross that line, we’ll have to make sacrifices. I… I’m finding myself wanting her around all the time. When she leaves, I want her to stay. When she’s not there, I want her to come. But at the same time, I don’t want her too close because I don’t know if I can have her or if I can want her. Because I don’t know what of me I can give that won’t hurt her,” he admits, with a bit of help from some whiskey.

“Maybe if you let yourself be vulnerable, you’d know,” Seokjin advises. “Some people would run and hide but there’s always that one person who wouldn’t. That might just be her. And then you’ll learn what you can give, too.”

Jungkook lets his friends’ words settle and then thinks about them throughout the night that he spends all alone in his penthouse, with another glass of whiskey in his hand as he looks out the balcony. A part of him wants you to run and hide when you see who he really is, what he hides and what he’s ashamed of. Maybe that would be easier, he thinks; maybe that would hurt less.

You return to work the next Tuesday, having gone to the hospital the day before and being cleared to return to your usual routine. Jimin and Soomin stayed with you until that evening, with you rejecting their insistence to stay another day. You can manage, you assure them. You’re able to walk properly now and would just need to do daily exercises, wear the elastic bandage for another week, and forego the heels.

Jungkook’s pleased to know that you’re doing better and makes sure you don’t walk around if you don’t need to, so he’s been the one going to see you when he needs something. He also postponed some potential site visits for the project that he and Hoseok are working on until you’re fully capable, which is why it’s three weeks later when you find yourself in the car with him, on the way to some towns in nearby provinces on an early Friday morning.

Mr. Ri called in sick today and Jungkook didn’t want to deal with a chauffeur he doesn’t know, so he decided to drive instead, thinking it’s more efficient that way. These are all initial checks and being that you’re the only one from his team who’s privy to the details, he wanted you to join him as a sounding board and also to get your own thoughts about what you’ll be seeing. He has a vision in mind and he needs to translate it properly; you’ve been helpful these past months in making sure he’s able to do that.

Disregarding what this time alone with you would do to him, Jungkook meets you in his penthouse, telling himself to focus on only one thing today, and that’s finding the right place for his planned project.

You leave early for a quick stop at a cafe and then head north to some towns in Gyeonggi province. There are some properties and land that are up for sale, and you prepared the information about them beforehand, allowing Jungkook to play around with the timeline and budget in his mind, even drawing rough drafts on his iPad as he assesses them. You’re both in work-mode, discussing each site on the way to the next one, with you searching for more details along the way and him, stopping on the side of the road to add an idea that he comes up with on the spot.

It’s a little chaotic, as his mind goes from one thing to another, but you suppose this is how Jungkook naturally is. You’ve seen him perform his duties in various ways, but this is when you see the most raw side of him, and it’s quite the privilege to see. He always said he preferred the creative aspect of the job, which is why he enjoyed his time in Singapore, handling the design department. You contend that he’s grown tremendously in his executive role. As Hoseok has said, Jungkook relates to his staff better now, and has even engaged and attracted more partners with his great ideas.

You’re quite sentimental going on this trip with him. It wasn’t long ago when you were going to work with anxiety, anticipating his next criticism so you can prepare yourself, and then going home feeling like a failure. So much has happened since then, and you could even say that you’ve found comfort in your daily routines; doing something different like this is now exciting and something you look forward to, especially since it allows you to go outside, see the sights, and breathe the cool air.

“You okay there?” He asks, noticing your silence.

“Yeah. I was just thinking how 10 months ago, this would’ve stressed me out so much.”

“What? Going on a road trip?”

“Pretty much going anywhere with you,” you laugh. “Car rides even with Mr. Ri made me freak out, and I was so scared to make a mistake or make you wait for information that I couldn’t find. And now here we are - I survived the last five hours with you and not once did you groan at me.”

“Wow, I must’ve been a really terrible boss to make your standard for a non-stressful day to be that low,” he laughs before turning serious. “But I… I’m… I’m sorry, for all the stress and anxiety that I caused you. I was being selfish and irrational about it. I hate change and you were the biggest one, even with my new role. I took out all the frustration on you and I shouldn’t have.”

He says more than he expected, but it’s also the apology that he should’ve given—that you deserved —months ago.

“I forgive you,” you say softly, glancing at him before returning your eyes towards the road. “I always knew my limits and I guess I let you push it and that was on me. I could’ve stood up to you, too.”

“You did though, more than once. And that knocked some sense into me.”

“I guess,” you hum. “And then things improved and I’m just glad they did.”

There’s a prolonged silence after, as you both opt to bask in the scenery around you. There’s that understanding and acceptance of how things were and that regardless of what’s going on in your own minds, you at least have this. You think to yourself that this just makes leaving that much harder, but at least this is one more memory you could take with you.

You make it to Hwacheon in Gangwon past noon, and this is where you spend most of your time in, as the sites are spread out around the county. There are areas tucked away in the mountains while there are those closer to town with grand views. It’s in the latter where you grab some lunch and go through some of his plans, and you take in his ideas, learning from him in the process.

It’s late in the afternoon when you inspect the final site, which is in an area in the neighboring Chuncheon county. It’s got potential for another project that CEO Jeon is looking to do, and with your notes completed, you and Jungkook start the trip back home. You would reach the tail-end of the Friday night traffic by the time you return to Seoul, the GPS says, and so both of you savor the sky’s changing colors as it transitions to the evening, letting the soft sounds of the radio replace the silence.

Barely 30 minutes in, the rain starts to pour, and it’s seconds later when it dawns on you what that means, as you hear heavy breathing next to you. You turn to Jungkook whose hands are tightly gripping the wheel, with sweat lining his eyebrows despite the cool temperature.

“Did the forecast say it was gonna rain?” He asks, the mix of panic and frustration evident in his voice.

“Yes, but not until late in the evening,” you say, checking your phone to make sure you got the correct information.

Your heart breaks upon realizing that at midday, the weather station warned that there was going to be a thunderstorm, with rainfall coming in around this time. You inform Jungkook, and despite all the progress in your relationship, your heart breaks a second time when he says that you should’ve constantly checked, that the weather changes all the time and you should’ve been mindful, and that now you’re both gonna be stuck on the road because he’s unable to drive and you don’t know how to. His tone is harsh, accusatory, as if it was something you could control, as if everything was your fault, just like how it was before.

Jungkook stops on the side of the road as the downpour continues, and he leans his head on the steering wheel now as he takes deep breaths. You tell him he could breathe better if he sits straight up, but he ignores you.

A part of you wants to remark how it’s ironic that just earlier, he was apologizing for the way he treated you, and now it’s like you’ve both taken a few steps back. You want to say it’s not your fault, that you wouldn’t even have known that the rain affected him this way if you hadn’t seen him be nervous about it when you went home from the gala last year. But you think about the way his eyes looked earlier, how they filled with worry and fear, like there was a sense of powerlessness that you know a little about.

So you settle for a bit of grace and understanding, thinking they’re what he needs.

“I don’t know why this is on me,” you say softly. “I didn’t know how bad it was but if I did, I would’ve checked constantly and I would’ve had us turn back the second I saw that forecast. And if I could drive, I’d drive us back as fast as I could. I’m sorry.”

He slows his breathing and sits up. His hands still tightly gripping the wheel but his eyes are downcast, and you suppose there’s more sadness than anger, so you stop pressing your nails on your skin, which you’d started doing in anticipation of him arguing with you about it.

“I don’t like the rain,” he shares, his voice low. “I… I have a bad memory of it as a kid and I just get reminded whenever it starts. I panic when it gets louder and I just… I can’t stay out here when that's all I can hear.”

His honesty surprises you. You can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for him, even more that he has to suffer through this right now in front of you, considering how hard it is for him to express how he feels. You don’t know how bad this weather is gonna go, and at this pace, the thunderstorm will probably reach you by the time you make it back to Seoul. So you do what you do best, and that’s to come up with options.

“There’s a guesthouse not far from here,” you say after checking the map. “It’s the closest one. We could spend the night there and wait out the rain. That’s better than being stuck here or continuing the drive back to the city.”

He nods in agreement, knowing there’s not much he could do. He doesn’t want to be stuck here; even more, he doesn’t want to unload on you nor have you witness how much worse it could be.

He keys in the address you give him while you call the property and ask if they still have available rooms. They do, so you reserve two and sigh in relief that that’s one problem solved.

You make it there in 15 minutes. Jungkook heads out the car first with the rain having eased up a bit, and you retrieve his luggage from the trunk, the one he keeps there for emergency trips and instances like this one. It has enough clothes for a day, and you’re glad that at least he has something to change into.

You make it inside and meet the owners then introduce yourself, stating that you reserved two rooms.

“I’m so sorry but we had to give up one of them,” the woman says. “A family came in with a baby and we couldn’t turn them away. The weather’s going to get worse tonight and we try to accommodate as many people as we can. I hope you understand.”

“That’s… that’s okay,” you say, knowing you would’ve done the same.

The thought of sharing a room with Jungkook feels too intimate and definitely not good for your heart, added to the fact that you’re probably not his favorite person right now, so you try to find a way out. You turn to the living room and see the sofa that’s big enough for you, so you ask if you can just stay there instead.

“Our cleaners will be using that space since they can’t go home due to the rain. I’m sorry again, Miss. Your room has twin beds so I hope that eases your worry somehow.”

“It’s fine, we’ll manage,” Jungkook says from behind you, hoping to the heavens that he will. He has one fear, and that’s you seeing how he really is during times like this.

He takes the key and walks up the stairs to the room you’re given. It’s spacious with a fair enough distance between both beds. He takes the one farther from the window then gets his clothes from his bag. It dawns on him that you don’t have your own with you, so he offers you his sweatshirt.

“It’s okay,” you shake your head. “It’s gonna be cold and you’re gonna need it.”

“So will you. You can’t be in wet clothes, not in this weather.”

“It’s happened before,” you shrug.

“___, just take it,” he insists, placing the item on your bed. “I have a top here that I can wear and the blankets will be enough. This is loose but it’s at least better than damp clothing. And you can go ahead in the bathroom. I’ll just give Mr. Ri a call.”

You nod and head out, taking his jumper and the towel with you. You’re given some basic toiletries, and the warm shower is just what you need for that bit of comfort after a stressful evening. As you’re about to dress up inside, you hear a knock on the door.

“I asked the lady if they had spare pajamas for you and she gave me a set,” Jungkook says from outside. “I’ll leave them on a stool by the door.”

You wait for him to leave before getting them and putting them on. It’s a plain set of shorts and shirt that’s a little big but it’s way better than your damp skirt and blouse, which the owners offered to wash and dry for you for tomorrow.

You return to the room with Jungkook sitting on the floor, and you give him back his sweatshirt that he turns down.

“I’m fine,” he insists. “Don’t you get cold easily? You’ll need that.”

He walks out, barely meeting your eyes. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed when he returns half an hour later, the sight of him with damp hair in black sweatpants and a white sleeveless top doing things to you. But you shake the thoughts away, especially as he once again creates that distance. He doesn’t look at you when he settles in bed, nor when he switches off his bedside light, and definitely not when he turns around to face the other way. You sigh to yourself, feeling even more alone now with him acting like this.

You can’t really blame him though. Dealing with something that elicits painful memories is difficult, and you understand the tendency to isolate yourself and push people away when that happens. It’s what you do sometimes, but still, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you a little when Jungkook does this to you, considering how good your relationship has become, regardless of your stupid attraction.

Settling in your bed, you decide to turn around and face the window. You focus on the droplets creating their own artwork on the glass, in hopes that it’ll help you take your mind off Jungkook, even if he’s literally just a few feet away from you. The last thing you want is a strained relationship, and you hope that this doesn’t make him fall back into his old ways. Although he’s experienced a few stressful moments these past months, they weren’t personal, and you suppose situations like this are when his emotions truly come out.

The rain has gotten stronger again and you’re pleased that Jungkook isn’t awake for this, based on the soft snores you hear. You’re about to fall asleep, the sound hypnotizing you a little, but that’s when the first blare of thunder strikes, causing you to jerk in bed in surprise. It used to scare you because of what it reminded you of, but you learned how to manage it after the first hit; the succeeding ones are no longer triggering. In fact, you just think of how it used to drown out the sounds of what you were truly afraid of.

Just then, you hear distressed moans. The sounds of frantic breathing and shifts on the bed follow right after. And then there’s a restrained groan, like a call for help that doesn’t fully come out, and that’s what alarms you. You immediately get off the bed and rush to Jungkook’s side. You see that he’s still asleep, his body - now uncovered by the blanket - is tense, despite his efforts of turning about. The low sounds of almost-cries convince you that he’s having a nightmare.

Thunder hits once again and it’s much louder this time, eliciting another frantic response from Jungkook. He’s kicking the covers while gripping the sheets, and with another roar of thunder that causes him to scream, that’s when you decide to wake him up.

“Jungkook, hey, listen to me,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed and keeping his head still with your hands. You’re able to control him as he continues tossing and turning, repeating his name until he slowly opens his eyes. “Hey, you’re safe with me, okay? Just focus on my voice.”

He’s awake now and you see the worry in his eyes, but you talk to him calmly, wanting him to trust you. It works, as he nods and slows down his movements. But he’s still breathing heavily, his lips chattering and the rest of his body shivering.

You anticipate another hit of thunder, and you’re able to shield him from it, pressing your palms on his ears, trying to drown out the sound. You stay that way, thumbing his temples as you tell him it’s okay, that you’ve got him, and that it’ll be over soon. You hold his gaze to let him know that you’re not going anywhere, and his pretty eyes that often look so far away are now overtaken with fear.

“Just look at me, alright? And follow my breathing,” you instruct him, your voice as gentle as you can make it despite your own worries for him.

He does as you say, his hands gripping your wrists as if to keep them there, and you assure him that you won’t let go until he says so.

“You’re doing good, just keep breathing,” you repeat, pacing your breathing with his until you’re doing it together.

You don’t know how long you stay that way, with his head between your hands and your eyes locked on his. It takes a while, but the thunder eventually stops and the rain eases. Jungkook finally calms down and you slowly release him from your hold. You watch him shut his eyes, as if in desperation to let everything go, before he opens them again.

“Is that better?” You ask, moving just a bit farther from him to give him space, but you remain close, wanting to be next to him in case something happens again.

“Yeah, that was, uh… that was tiring,” he huffs.

“I think the thunder has passed but if it happens again, I’ll be here, okay?”

He nods, his soft and desperate eyes now looking at you to express his gratitude. You want so badly to hug him, to hold his still-shaking hands and assure him that he’s not alone, that you won’t let anything hurt him for the rest of the night, and that you understand it all - whatever it is he’s afraid of, and why he keeps it all to himself.

But you suppose that’s going too far. You’re afraid that you’d want to stay there, even more if he doesn’t want you to. So you nod as well and think that he at least has this to comfort him, that he at least knows you’re just there.

You walk back to your bed and lie down, facing him this time. You smile, wanting that assurance to be the last thing he sees before he falls asleep again. Jungkook does the same as he settles under the covers, patting it down so he could see you better. You both stay there, safe in your corners, your eyes telling each other things you can’t say.

Whatever distance you felt earlier has shortened. Right now, with both of you falling asleep to each other’s view, he’s never felt so close.

The morning after heavy rain is always bittersweet. There’s the reality of the damage it caused but you also can’t deny that it gives life to other living things. What it also does is make way for clear skies and give you that fresh, rainwater scent of the grass and the trees. It’s what you see and smell when you open the bedroom windows, reminding you that the evening has passed and the worst is over.

You spot Jungkook seated on one of the chairs in the garden, and you hope that the view is making him feel better, with the nightmare from last night slowly drifting away from his mind. You dress up in the dry clothes you find hanging on the doorknob of the room then head downstairs, surprised to see food prepared in the dining area. The tofu stew and grilled mackerel are so appetizing, and the loud rumbling of your stomach reminds you that you didn’t eat last night, with all the stress making dinner your last priority.

“Hello, dear. It was a pretty hard evening so we prepared something for our guests,” the owner says, her radiant smile reflecting the brightness of the day. “You may call your friend outside so you can both eat and get ready for a long drive home.”

You thank her then call Jungkook, his eyes brightening when he walks back inside and sees the food. He engages in conversation with the owners, asking about this town and the surrounding ones, and what their appeal is to non-residents. You gauge that he’s doing a bit of research himself, and you think he’s at least not too out of it to still do so.

“You’re free to stay until noon,” the owner informs you. “You can enjoy the view outside; it’s really pretty now that the sky has cleared. I’ll be making tea shortly as well.”

Jungkook says he’ll return to the garden and you wait for the hot drinks before following him. You’re unsure if he wants you around but you try, sitting next to him then sighing in relief when he doesn’t move away.

“I was 10 years old when my parents sent me and my brother to a cabin somewhere in Hwasun,” he starts. “I thought they were coming with us but it was just me and Jeong-sik and some staff. He and I never got along. If he wasn’t ignoring me, he was teasing me. But that day, he convinced me to play hide-and-seek, saying that by the time he finds me, our parents would be back. We were outdoors and I ended up wandering too far, so close to the woods that I couldn’t find my way back. My brother hadn’t come and I was getting scared. And then it started to rain.”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“It started getting stronger and the skies had become so dark, I could barely see anything,” he continues, his eyes fixed towards the mountains faraway. “The rain made the ground slippery so I decided to just sit by a large tree and hope someone would find me. It felt like hours and maybe it was. The thunder was so loud then and it kept going and going and going. And I was drenched and all alone, and no matter how hard I screamed, no one could hear me.”

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you say, feeling your heart break as he narrates a painful memory that you can relate with.

It’s only close to what you experienced yet it feels so real to you. You can feel his fear and his pain in the tremble of his voice, in the way he grips on the edges of the bench, in the way his jaw clenches at the memory, like it’s one he’s tried hard to bury yet can’t get rid of, no matter how hard he tries.

But this feels so personal, and you don’t want him to feel like he needs to share it with you.

“You don’t have to explain,” you add. “I know it’s difficult to share something like that.”

“But I want to,” he responds, turning to you now. “Because I’ve carried the memory with me for 20 years and I’ve been dealing with it all on my own. But that’s not an excuse to treat you the way I did last night. That’s not a reason for me to take it out on you and especially to blame you. That was wrong of me and I’m sorry, ___. I…”

He looks down, perhaps trying to gather the courage he needs to be honest with you, to be vulnerable with you.

“I don’t want you to think that I didn’t need you because I did,” he adds. “I was scared and I didn’t think I needed you but you were there and I’m so sorry.”

You sit there and watch him cower onto himself, and somehow you see the little boy who was scared, who was wondering why he’d been left alone, who was waiting for someone to come find him or perhaps… someone to sit there and be with him until the rain stopped. There’s a lot he carries; there’s also a lot he buries, as if there’s a bottomless hole within him where he keeps everything hidden but it still feels too heavy, too much, taking from him every time he hides something new.

You don’t say anything for a while, as you start to see Jungkook for who he really is. You feel the weight of his words and how much it took for him to say them. It’s not that his experience makes him different, but now that you know the pain he’s been carrying with him, you’re able to see the other parts of him that he’s unable to show, perhaps too afraid that someone wouldn’t understand, or that they wouldn’t stay if they found out why he keeps his distance and why he pushes people away.

Your silence prompts him to look up. You meet his eyes and see the sadness in them and it feels like he needs more than just forgiveness.

“We do things we don’t mean to when we’re afraid,” you tell him. “It doesn’t always mean we intend on hurting them. And I understand that, more than you know. I’ll never take that against you.”

Jungkook nods, shifting again towards the view as he lets your words sink in. He was hoping for forgiveness, but he got so much more. Maybe there’s a reason why you’ve been patient and gentle with him ever since the beginning. Perhaps you’re carrying your own burden and painful memories that you’re unable to share and deal with, too, and though he’s nothing like you, there’s comfort in knowing that you’re the same somehow.

He senses you turn back to look at the mountains, and the silence prompts him to continue the story of an experience he’s only shared twice before - once to his best friends and another time with Chaerin, all of whom have seen this side of him - the scared and vulnerable side. They were understanding and supportive as well, trying to find ways to comfort and help him deal with it. You’re the third and the one he’s known the shortest time, yet he feels more comfort with you than anyone who’s ever tried.

“I fell asleep at that tree while waiting,” he recalls. “The next thing I know, I was being carried back to the cabin. The rain had stopped but it was still dark, and I was tended to until I fell asleep again. I was sick for days and I didn’t see my parents until we were back in Seoul. It’s just a hard thing to remember. I know we have selective memories and I always wish that’s one thing that I don’t ever have to remember but life isn’t that kind, I guess.”

“It isn’t. But we learn to face those fears though, and manage them. It’s the only way we can get through it,” you say.

“Have you?” He asks, wondering if that’s another similarity he shares with you.

“Not really. I wouldn’t be alone and where I am if I have,” you say. “But I’m trying. And I’ll continue to.”

“That makes one of us,” he sighs.

“Well, it’s not always easy if you’re not quite sure what you’re really afraid of,” you respond. “Is it just thunder?”

“Yeah… but once the rain starts, it tells me that thunder could come. It doesn’t always but it’s what my brain tells me. Then I get anxious and I… I don’t know what to do. Like I’m paralyzed and unable to think or move. I just… stay there and sometimes, I don’t even know what’s happening.”

“Well, it rained when I got injured,” you remind him. “But you managed to get me to the hospital. And you stayed with me. That’s definitely something.”

“You were hurt and it was more important that you got treated,” he reasons. “That was scary and I guess my brain told me to get shit done that moment.”

“So… do I always have to be hurt for you to get through the rain when it starts getting bad?” You ask.

“Don’t talk like that. I can’t have you going through that again,” he frowns at you.

The way he reacts to the thought of you being hurt gives you that warm feeling again. But it reminds you that you feel the same. You don’t want him to be scared, you don’t want him hurt, too.

“Fine. But when it starts to rain and you’re all alone and you feel like you can’t manage, you call me, okay?” You tell him.

“And what would that do?”

“That way I can talk you through it. Maybe go to you if you want me to.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because during the times I was afraid and alone, you were there,” you bravely say, turning to him and prompting him to do the same. “Sometimes something triggers those memories but then I think of how you stayed with me in the alley and in the playground and in my apartment. I think of you and I stop feeling scared. Maybe you can think of last night when it starts to get bad, too. And we can just create more of those memories to override the bad ones. Wouldn’t that be better?”

He savors your words, not realizing how much you’ve held onto your moments together. And he understands that now. The way you held him together last night is ingrained in his mind, and if that’s how it feels to be with you during his darkest moments, he starts to wonder how good it would feel during the good ones.

Maybe he’ll start with this, as you both sip citrus tea while looking at the lush mountains out on the horizon. He’ll continue with the scenic drive back to Seoul and a stopover at a cafe for some iced coffee and conversations about good memories. And at least for today, he’ll end with the sight of you walking to your apartment and then turning around to wave him goodbye, and then your smile giving him warmth on this cold afternoon.

The door shuts and he starts the trip back to his place - empty, lonely, just like how it’s been for years, all his pent up emotions bringing him to this point of isolation. But there’s you - the feel of your touch, the soothing sound of your voice, and the gentleness that got him through the night.

He misses you already. And much as he knows he’s in big trouble, thinking about you and wanting you is all he could do.

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook series #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #boss jungkook #jungkook fanfic

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shocymer · 2 months

Text

Want me to teach you?

"Starting off as journalism clubs buddies, you never know how your relationship will take turns after he offered to give you a lesson."

Pairing : Yunho x f!reader

Word counts : 2.3k

Contents & warnings : smut mdni! , college AU, gamer yunho, oral (receiving), size kink, big dick! yunho, slightly pussy edging, overstimulation, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie.

“There’s something between you and her. I mean like you’re in relationship or..?” Wooyoung asked him carefully.

Yunho’s eyes goes widen. He never thought of dating you in the first place. After breaking up with his longtime ex lover, he completely avoided the topic of romance. He’d been dating his ex since high school. But at the certain time they’re in college, she became a campus crush and immediately dumped him.

He let out a soft chuckle in response, “How could that be?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The atmosphere.. ehhm kinda heavy around you two.” Seonghwa suddenly chimed in while his finger moved in circle towards Yunho.

He raised his eyebrow, a thin smile form his lips after ridiculed by them.

“Nah we’re not. We’re just friends, that’s all.”

To be honest, he wasn't that surprise when they asked about it. It all started from two months before. You accidentally took a glance on Yunho’s phone. He’s immersed in Detroit: Become Human walkthrough video while waiting for other faculty journalism club’s member to come.

Then you happened to be walking behind him before taking a seat. “Oh you’re into that game too?”

“I want to give it a try.” He turn at you for a moment before his eyes glued back to the screen. “But I still figure it out whether this one worth it or not.”

You crossed your arms then slightly lean towards him in attempt to get a better view of the video. “Hmm.. It’s a shame if you know most of the plot through this. Like I want you to experience the true ending by your own choices.”

“Wait, you ever played this?” Surprised that you’re into gaming stuff.

“I did, but on PC. I don’t know if there’s any differences if you play it on your console.” You lean away from him.

Now, he’s more interested in you and leaving the video played alone in the background. Distracted by your little fingers fidgeting on the back of your phone unconsciously, as both of you deep in talk. He’s wondering why is it so small and weirdly cute. Then he glanced back to you.

“So you’re not used to play with the controller right?”

You nod at him, “yeah, last time I try it when I was in 7th grade or something. The grip was uncomfortable. Right after that, I decided PC is much more easier.” You paused for a second, “but sometimes I would love to try it again.”

He chuckled seems to know the reasons why. Proceed to clear his throat before he answered you back, “Want me to teach you?”

Deep sighed left from your mouth, “I’m pretty sure you’ll be mad at me the second we’re in.”

“No no, definitely not. I got patience as deep as the ocean. You sure know that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right, definitely a saint in your past life.”

He laughed at your remark and how annoyed you’re right now. You smacked his arm, telling him to stop. Not to long, both of you getting ready for the club’s meeting as everyone already gathered in.

You thought he’d be joking. He never brought that idea again after the last conversation with you. He occasionally texted you only about the club’s activity or college stuff. Until a week after, he slide a brand new box of controller towards you.

“Better started now or never.” He slightly tilted his head, pointing to where the box landed.

“Yunho, you don’t need to buy me this. I- like just tell me when you’re-”

“Shhh.. save that nagging for later.” His delicate hand started to unbox it with care. Then he handed it to you.

It’s mostly dominated with white and soft blue colors on the side. Plus the kitty paw shaped the thumb grip, make it seems like a customized controller. You reach it in fascination. That’s super cute. Both of you think the same way, but completely on different matters.

Yunho kept looking at your fingers which is nicely wrapped the controller. His eyes following the direction of your little thumbs that moving uncoordinatedly, mimicking the way you’re gonna use it in game. Then, his gaze turn to your lips, looking at how cute and plump it is.

He shook his head, after that he explained to you about it’s feature, how to turn it on and how to charge it. You listen to him just like in one of your lectures. Remembering everything that he told you while nodding at the same time.

“Thanks Yunho, that’s so cute.” You looked at him in guilty. “I bet this was expensive right?”

“Well, actually not that much. I just want you to use it more if it looks like that.” He flicked your forehead. “This is my own wish. Don’t ever feel bad about it, okay?”

After that day, you spent almost every weekend playing co-op game with him. He patiently guided you from the voice chat. Dealing with how forgetful you are and a lot of complaints about your sore fingers. With that antics of yours, he only let out small chuckle or teasing you even more.

On the weekday, sometimes you met him in the club’s room. Mostly during the meeting or when you do the project. The moment you asked him to check your works, he’ll lean over from your behind and randomly put his hand on top of yours while the other hand is scrolling the mouse. There’s also a moment he covered the shelf corner with his hand when your head nearly bump it or he’ll immediately fetched the things you needed where it’s difficult for you to reach.

You never realize that, but not with your other two friends. Seonghwa and Wooyoung, they keep exchange glances across the room whenever Yunho and you act like a new pair of lovers. They’re a hundred percent sure sensing something more than platonic relationship, when the actual truth is not. There’s nothing between you two, yet.

⁠✧

It's 3 days before the exam period. The faculty journalism club already in chaos for past few weeks. They’re divided into two teams. First team is responsible with the faculty website news update, and here you are in the second team handling the semester end magazine. Your leader pushed the deadline earlier hoping the only left to do is printed it out at the end of exam day.

Your tired ass have been proofreading for solid three hours non-stop. Flipping through the revision sheet and going back to the laptop. Luckily you don’t have any class today. All of you agreed to finished it today. But alas, there’s only four of you left, and making it worse the other two need to leave too.

“Shit, I forgot to consult my thesis. I’ll be back at evening!” Seonghwa barging out in hurry. No wonder he’s literally your senior a year above you.

Not to long, Wooyoung following around as he got notification with a sudden class at noon. He’s cursing along the way. Of course all of you haunted with the leader’s wrath, considering how strict he is. You still remembered the looks on his face when the last project failed.

There’s only Yunho and you left alone. Silence along the typing sounds are the only sound that filled the room. At this exact time, most of the clubs room are empty. Either everyone still in the class or diving in the library preparing for the exam.

The work flow with him lasted for more than an hour. He’s occasionally sipping his iced coffee while working on it. He took the editing part, after that passed it on to you. But this time, his hand slipped, nudging the cup of his coffee. He could save it, but not with your pile of revision papers. It scattered all over the floor.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry.” He immediately crouched down as you do the same to collect the papers.

While collecting it in a rush, your fingertips brushing the back of his hand. Your face only a few inches from his side, making him shiver from the feeling of your warm breath against his skin. Then he turn to face you, staring deep into your eyes. Your heartbeat increase rapidly as he turning his hand to hold yours. His gaze shifted from your eyes to your small plumped lips.

When the tip of your noses touched, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You crushed his lips, kissing him hungrily. He pulled you in, till his back hit against the wall only to bring you on top of his lap while the kiss still not broken. He peeled off his denim jacket as the temperature keep raising between you two.

Gasping for some air, you pull out from the kiss. His index finger caress your cheek trailing down to you lips. You open your mouth to let it in wrestling around with your tongue. He let out small groaned at the sight of it. “I always curious how it taste like.” He lean in to you, whispering into your ears, “and that’s incredibly sweet.”

He picked you without a warning, gives you a quick kiss before plopping you down to the couch, then closed the curtains in swift motion.

Now he’s back to you, nibbling the nape of your neck, sucking on it, sometimes sunk his teeth beneath your skin. You’re squirming under him, gripping onto his hair as the sensation wash over you. He looked up to you, searching for your permission to go lower.

You nodded at him. He’s devouring your lips again while his hand pushed up your tight knee-length skirt, revealing wet trace over your panties. His fingers caress your clothed clit, moved in circular motion. You moaned between the kisses, you can feel he’s smirking on top of your lips.

He moved the panties to the side, then dip his finger into your folds. He chuckled, “you’re already this wet hmm?” Then he’s slipping in another finger, makes you gasped at how full it is inside. At first, his fingers moved back and forth slowly, but over time it’s moving faster making squelched noises due to how wet your pussy is.

He's amused by looking at the face you make right now, moaning out his name when you almost at the edge. He’s stopped in the middle of it, pulled out his fingers. “It’s not enough if it just like that.” He's immediately going down to yank out your panties, then sticking his third fingers into you, moving abruptly while his tongue flicking your clit, sucking on it hungrily. You grip onto his hair tighter, only strangle moan left out from your mouth before his another hand tried to cover it. You buckled your hip as you reaching out the orgasm, biting the palm of his hand trying to stifle your moan. He flicked his tongue few times makes your body spasm due to overstimulation. When you chasing down from it, he licked clean your pussy, then going back to kiss you, giving the taste of yours.

He take a step back, unbuttoning his jeans then pulled down the zipper, letting his cock sprung out from his brief. You took a peek on it with your half lidded eyes, still recovering from the last orgasm. It looks swollen, the unbelievable girth with it’s veins pop visibly, and the tip is glistening with the pre cum. He's stroking it for few times before lining it on your entrance. The tip is slowly in, you can feel the pain as it bigger than your thought.

He's leaning down to you, holding your hands, then trailing kisses on your neck hoping you to relaxes. “I’m sorry is it hurting that much?” He’s stroking your hair while looking into your eyes. “Not.. that much.” You answered him in teary eyes. He kisses your forehead then to your eyes. “It’s a still little bit more baby, can you take it?” You nodding at him. When it’s all in, he let it still for a moment so you get used to it. Then he start moving slowly while his hand unbuttoned your shirt, cupping your breast and slightly fondle it.

He thrusting it faster after he hear you moan in pleasure. His hand grip your waist, while the other hand busy teasing your clit. Your pussy tightened at every deep thrust, making him groaned at the feels. His hips moved erratically after pressing his hand on your stomach, feeling the bulge whenever his cock in you completely. Your nails digging in his clothed back as you feel the knot in your stomach. You squirted over him, making a mess on his shirt. He didn’t stop while your walls clenching on his cock, “you felt so good baby.” After few thrusts he filled your cunt, milking his balls empty. He pulled it out, then plopping himself beside you. Both of you breathing heavily while staring at each other. After realizing it, both of you laughing at how messy you’re right now.

⁠✧

“I’m baaack!” Wooyoung slammed the door open, his eyes goes widen at the sight of you two.

“Aren’t you guys tired? You didn’t move an inches since I left.” He saw you typing furiously on your laptop, meanwhile Yunho sorting out the papers beside you.

Yunho turned to him, “actually I need some snacks.” He gets up from his chair, then put his arms around Wooyoung’s shoulder.

Before they go, Wooyoung looked at you. “You don’t need anything? Or maybe you need some fresh air, you can go with Yunho instead. I’ll continue the rest.”

“I’m fine.” You paused for a second, “uhm.. well, maybe I want a smoothie.”

“Okay got it!” he gives an okay sign to you, then dragged Yunho along out of the club room. Yunho stopped his step, “wait I think I left something.” He ran back to the clubs room.

When he got there, he whispered something to you, “After this, do you still want me to teach you? My lesson isn’t done yet.” You flinched at his sudden peck on your lips. He smiled cheekily while leaving you speechless alone, squirming on your seat as you feel his juice spilled down over your thigh.

#jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #ateez smut #yunho smut #ateez fics #ateez fic #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez hard hours #yunho hard hours #ateez fanfic #kpop fanfic #shocymer

1K notes · View notes

assassinsblade · 4 months

Text

Arrows and Ashes | 2

Azriel must balance his need for vengeance and his need to take care of you.

WC: 4.3k

Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff, fluff too though.

a/n: Holy shit everyone, the response to Part 1 was incredible! Seriously! All your comments and thoughts and everything are what make me want to keep writing, so thank you!!

Part 1 Part 3

—————————————

If someone would have told Azriel when he woke up that morning that he would later be kneeling in front of your bloody body, begging you to stay awake, he would have locked you inside of the House of Wind so you couldn’t leave.

He would have never let you get out of bed that morning. He would have come up with some excuse to keep you safe near Velaris, safe near him.

But he hadn’t known. So when you and Cassian left that morning to meet with Autumn Court heir, he was only slightly nervous. He hated the idea of you being anywhere near Eris, but Cassian was there, and he trusted his brother to keep you safe. He trusted that he would see you in only a few hours, sitting across from him at the dinner table, giggling at something snarky Nesta threw at Cassian while picking at the food on your plate.

So when his and Rhysand's talk was interrupted by a letter arriving from Eris Vanserra, one that made Rhys tense in his silent reading, Azriel felt his panic start to rise.

The way his heart had stopped in his chest when Rhys had read the words on the paper aloud: Your two spies missed the meeting window outside of the forest cabin, and upon investigation, were found in the dungeons of my father's establishment. We are doing what we can for the one you call Daisy, but I would advise arriving to the forest cabin expeditiously and with a healer in tow.

Azriel hadn't even waited for Rhysand to respond. He had barely gotten the words out before Azriel was winnowing to the forest cabin, his blood rushing in his veins, making him lightheaded with panic and rage.

And when he had seen you there, lying on a wooden table, bare and vulnerable with nothing but gore and a light blanket covering your form? He had nearly collapsed.

Your eyes had been swollen and wet with tears, cheeks splotchy and bruised. Everything around you had been red. The blanket, with creamy white fibers of wool woven together, was soaked red along your back. The natural brown of the table underneath you dripped with the dark red falling from your form. Your hair matted with both old and new bright red blood.

Something Azriel saw so frequently, and red quickly became his least favorite color.

He had tried to comfort you, tried to soothe any pain you were feeling, but nothing seemed to work. Each sob, cry, whimper, and croak had cracked something in his chest, and he was sure irreparable damage was being done inside of him with the agony he felt from your state.

The memory of your body shaking from the pain, of what your back looked like when the blanket was pulled back, was what made Azriel immediately demand to see what had happened in that cell.

Cassian had at first refused, tears in his eyes, insisting it was something neither of his brothers should see or experience. But Rhys also demanded to see, if only so they could track down the three males who had been with you in the dungeons.

Azriel could feel the self-hatred coming off of Cassian in waves, but the general acquiesced, giving Rhys a short nod.

Then Azriel was watching his brother go into Cassian's mind. And as Rhysand tensed and paled, stumbling at what he was seeing, Azriel found himself breathing harder, attempting to prepare himself to see you hurt.

When Rhysand came to again, both he and Cassian had tears in their eyes. Rhys met Azriel's and gave him a cautious look. Azriel only nodded.

And then he was in the dungeons, seeing from Cassian's point-of-view.

He watched as the soldiers walked into the dungeons and shackled you to the wall. There were wounds already covering your body from what looked like whips and manual beatings, and Azriel wondered what Cassian or Rhys was omitting from these memories.

But his thoughts were cut short by the sight of a sword coming down on your wings and your back arching in pain. You didn't even make a noise, your mouth open in a silent scream and body scrambling to get away.

Blood sprayed everywhere, and the motions of the soldier hacking your wings off were haphazard and angry, but also uncaring and almost bored.

Azriel had never felt as heartbroken as he did then, watching you lose your wings, your screams beginning to echo through the cell.

Cassian was trying to get you to look at him, trying to remind you that he was there, that you weren't alone, but you were too far gone to the pain and torture.

When both of your wings were nothing but ripped off limbs on the ground behind you, and your body slumped into your own blood, piss, and vomit, Azriel had already committed the males' faces to his memory.

Your bare vulnerable form, twitching and mangled on that concrete floor, would forever haunt him.

"Her wings are gone," Cassian choked out when Azriel had finished seeing the memory. "And it's all my fault."

Rhys shook his head. "It's no more your fault than mine."

Azriel didn't say anything though, because all he could feel was the anger raging under his skin, begging to be let out, and he didn't want to say anything he'd regret to either of his brothers.

He was shaking, his body burning, vibrating with energy. He turned to the auburn-haired male leaning against the wall.

"Are there wards surrounding the dungeons?"

Eris smirked. "You don't think us foolish enough to leave our prisoners unguarded, do you?"

Azriel nearly growled, his patience running thin. You were unconscious on a hard blood-soaked table only feet away from him, and it was driving him insane, panic, anxiety, fear, grief all morphing in his chest and begging him to act, act, act, seek vengeance for Daisy.

"I swear on the Mother, Eris, I will-"

"Relax." Eris sighed, pulling himself from his position by the wall. "There are wards, but I can get you through them."

Azriel only continued watching him, because it was obvious by the way the Autumn male eyed him that he was not done speaking. "The only question is -- should I? Will my father not be more angry when three of his guards turn up dead? Why should I put my ass further on the line for you bastards?"

Before Azriel could kill him, Rhys interrupted. "Having the three guards dead only plays into your favor, Eris. Say Cassian killed them when escaping. Leave evidence hinting at Cassian overpowering them."

Eris rolled his eyes but didn't protest. Azriel was glad because he was one word away from cutting out his tongue.

The Autumn male did grumble, though, as he lowered the wards long enough for the shadowsinger to winnow in. But by that point Azriel was already humming with bloodthirst, already savoring the fear he was going to suck out of the males who had hurt you, who had taken your wings.

He would make them pay, he would make them bleed.

The first guard he came across, he recognized immediately. He had been one of the two to lift you into the shackles, to make sure you body hadn't slumped out of reach of the sword.

The feeling of Truth Teller piercing his throat gave Azriel a satisfaction he would be wary to admit. He wished the male had wings Azriel could peel off himself, taking his time and basking in each scream of pain that came out of his mouth.

Instead, Azriel used his dagger to slash across the male's skin as he choked on his own blood, unable to scream. He targeted the most sensitive parts of the body, twisting the sharp weapon, pulling out nerves and tendons where he could.

When his body fell to the floor, Azriel was unsatisfied. It had been too quick, and he needed more.

He kept moving, relishing in the blood coating his hands. His siphons gleamed a bright blue that warned of his approach, that told the others he was there to exact his revenge.

When he found the second male who was backing away from him with a look of pure fear in his eyes, Azriel nearly smirked. He walked slowly toward him, and the way the male's body trembled only reminded Azriel of you. His smirk immediately dropped, replaced by an animalistic urge to kill.

Azriel thought of your shackled wrists, the way you were bound and vulnerable, and immediately threw his dagger into the male's hand with such force it impaled into the wall behind him, lodging into the space where two stones cracked.

The male screamed, and Azriel welcomed it. It filled his chest with purpose, with justice, as he screamed louder. Azriel took his sword out and cut the males arm off in one motion.

Didn't feel too good losing a limb, did it?

He did the same with the male's other arm, his legs, and then finally his head, watching as it rolled to the concrete floor.

He kicked it out of his way before moving forward once more.

He had one more target, and this one he was going to make sure lasted long. You had been held captive for hours. Tortured for hours. And he was going to repay that action, just as he told you he would.

Azriel reached where you and Cassian had been kept, and the smell in the air nearly brought tears to his eyes. It smelled of fear. Of urine, as if you had been so terrified you couldn't control your own bladder, and of blood. It permeated the room, your despair, and Azriel's hair stood on end at the scent. It made him want to return to you, to hold you and make sure you were safe, to make sure you knew you were safe.

But as he eyed the shackles on the wall, the stained red on the ground, the discarded wings in the corner, he knew he needed to slaughter this last male before he returned home.

He shoved the image of your wings, bloody and mangled only feet away, out of his mind and moved forward.

He found the last male one more room over. He was prepared, a sword raised in defense as Azriel sauntered in. His siphons blazed brighter, ready to fight and make this male feel the same pain you did.

This was the one who had cut off your wings. And he was holding the very sword he used to do so.

Azriel felt his power rumbling within him, and all at once, almost out of his control, he threw it toward the male.

It slammed into him with the force of a mountain, slamming the male into the wall behind him with a crack. The male groaned, the sword clattering from his hands, and Azriel almost complained at how easy it was going to be to kill him.

He kicked the male's sword away once he reached him, not wanting to touch your dried blood coating its edge. It made his skin crawl, and he needed it out of his sight.

Kneeling down in front of the male, he pulled him forward by his ankle, dragging him to one of the cells in the room.

He thought of you bare and vulnerable, naked and bleeding, scared and trembling.

He thought of your flayed flesh, the blood dripping down onto the floor under the table, the charred skin of your back.

He thought of your screams, your cries, the way you heaved in pain.

Azriel snapped the shackle around the male's ankle.

He flipped Truth Teller around in his hand, gaining comfort from its weight. He would do some carving with it. The male didn't have wings, but he had other things he could take away from him. He would make him feel the same vulnerability you felt, the same fear and pain you felt. And when he was done, he would burn just as you did.

For once in his life, Azriel was excited to watch flesh catch on fire.

—————————————

When Azriel returned to the forest cabin, the only people remaining were Rhys and you.

You were still unconscious, and Azriel felt his heart beat painfully in his chest at the sight. Fortunately, the excess blood, dirt, and other bodily fluids seemed to have been cleaned off you, presumably by Rhys and his magic. You now only looked pale and weak, skin still bruised and healing its wounds.

Azriel, on the other hand, was coated in blood. His fingers dripped with it, his face was splattered with it, and if his leathers were any color other than black, they would have been dyed with the red of blood too.

Rhys eyed his appearance cautiously. “I take it they are dead?”

Azriel only nodded, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His fight was over, but he was still restless, still searching for something to quell the anxiety in his chest.

“I took Cassian back to Velaris. Madja fixed up his wings, and he’s healing there.”

“Must be nice that his wings are fine,” Azriel spit out before he could stop himself.

He immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t Cassian’s fault. Cassian loved you as much as they all did, and those guards would have hurt you regardless of what Cassian had done or said.

Rhys gave him a hard look, his following words stern. “Yes, it is nice. You should also be grateful our brother is still alive.”

Azriel was quiet. He didn’t need a lecture or scolding right now. He didn’t need a high lord.

But he also didn’t know what he needed.

He turned to look at you, still laying on your stomach on the table.

“I was waiting for you to take her back home.” Rhys’ voice was softer as he watched the shadowsinger eye your form.

“She hasn’t woken up?” Azriel asked.

Rhys shook his head.

Azriel felt a pit form in his stomach as he walked toward you. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed even in your sleep, and he wondered if you could still feel any pain or if your mind was replaying traumatic memories while unconscious. The thought made him nauseous.

He reached out with a hand to lightly move the hair back from where it curled in front of your neck, but he paused seeing the blood coating his fingers.

The liquid matched the injuries on you, seemingly connected. Like a tether tied the red to the bruises on your cheekbones and undereyes, to the whip lashings on your arms, legs, and torso, to the haphazard gouges and burns on your back.

Azriel was grateful the blanket was covering the majority of your body, because just the bruises on your face made him feel weak. He was tempted to fall before you, to curl his body around your own and shield you from anyone else.

He would do anything to ensure not even a scratch was made on your skin again.

Rhysand eyed him from the other side of the room, watching Azriel hesitate to touch you.

"Let's get her home," Rhys spoke tiredly. As Azriel glanced at his red-rimmed violet eyes, he realized how emotionally drained everyone else must have been as well. "She'll be more comfortable there."

Azriel agreed. He couldn't imagine how sore you were going to be, and the wooden table underneath you was only going to aggravate your tired body. He wanted to wrap you in the softest blankets he could find, tuck you into his bed, and make sure you rested for days.

When he reached for you again, he noticed his hands were now clean. Rhys only nodded at him before Azriel could even thank him.

He eyed your bare shoulders peeking out from underneath the wool blanket and moved to grab the light nightgown presumably left by Eris. As much as he hated the male, he was grateful he had been mindful enough to grab you clothing, let alone clothing that was thin enough to not cause your injuries any irritation.

Azriel wrapped the blanket around your shoulders before pulling your body up to a sitting position. He then carefully pulled the nightgown over your head, gently moving your arms through the openings. Once in place, he readjusted the blanket around your body and picked you up into his arms.

Barely any time had passed, yet your body felt so different in his arms compared to the times he had carried you in the past. It was lighter -- a fact that caused pain to swarm in his chest as he realized it was due to your missing wings. It seemed more vulnerable as well. Fragile in such minimal clothing and covered in bruises and slashes and scars.

That protective instinct inside of him caused his scarred hands to grip you just a bit tighter.

Rhys approached, giving him an understanding look, and then you all were winnowing back to Velaris, back to your home.

As soon as he could feel the floor under his feet, Azriel was moving, filled with purpose. He needed you comfortable, he needed you warm, and he needed you safe.

So, he immediately made his way to his bedroom, not even sparing Rhys a glance or a goodbye. The high lord instead spoke into his mind: Madja left some healing tonics and creams on the counter. Directions are attached. Please keep me updated.

Taking note of that for later, Azriel laid you down onto his bed. He would have taken you to your own room, but he wanted somewhere he knew you would be safe. Somewhere he knew every inch of, somewhere he had fortified himself.

He turned you onto your stomach so as to not irritate the wounds on your back. In doing so, the wool blanket from Autumn slid from your body, and Azriel was left facing the bandages Madja had placed on your shoulder blades.

The sight of the white gauze caused Azriel to pause.

You had lost your wings.

Oh, Daisy.

Azriel slowly lowered himself to his knees beside his bed, needing a moment to compose himself before continuing to gather all the supplies he would need to care for you. Tears burned his eyes as he watched your back rise and fall with your breathing. He focused on that motion, on the reminder that you were here in his bed, alive.

He had never been more scared than when Rhys was reading that letter from Eris. When he had heard you had been hurt and that it was bad.

But there, kneeling before your battered body, Azriel was terrified all over again. You were safe now, living and breathing, but . . . he had no idea how he would fix this for you. There would no longer be any flights together during sleepless nights or teasing pokes or comments at each other's wings. No longer would he see your joyous smile when leaping from the House of Wind, allowing the wind to carry you to where you wanted to go.

Your wings had been so beautiful. Something he had admired from a young age, just like you.

He couldn't imagine losing his own wings, what it would do to him.

So, he was absolutely terrified at what you would face when waking up.

But he would be there, he vowed. He would do anything you needed. Anything you wanted, and it would be yours, and he would do it with a smile on his face and love in his heart.

Taking a deep breath, Azriel wiped his tears and rose from his position. He removed the blanket from Autumn, disliking the scent of it clinging to you in his bedroom, and instead pulled his covers over your shoulders.

Your face seemed more relaxed than it did while laying on that table, and he hoped you were comfortable, that your dreams were allowing you some peace.

It took all of his willpower to leave your side. But he needed to collect some things to make sure you would heal okay. So, reluctantly, he left his bedroom, keeping the lights off, and made his way to the kitchen to find what Madja had left.

He filled a glass of water for when you woke and approached the numerous vials on the table.

Apply once daily for the wing removal, one jar filled with white cream read. Apply once daily for the whip marks, another that had a bluish tint said. Lastly, a taller vial with a tannish-colored liquid, looking almost like tea, that read Drink at night for sleep and pain.

Azriel gathered all of them in his arms and carried them to his room. He assumed Madja would check in soon enough to see how your healing was going, and he knew he could always get in contact with Rhys to call on the healer if need be.

He just wanted to make sure you weren't in pain. The tears streaking down your cheeks earlier still haunted his memories, forming a pit in his stomach. And he knew, with absolute certainty, that his nightmares would be filled with your screams and cries for years to come.

So he would make sure these creams and tonics were applied and taken. He would advocate for you if you needed more, and he would track down every healer in all of Prythian if need be.

Setting the supplies on his bedside, he went to his bathroom and collected extra gauze and tape for when he needed to change your bandages. Once all was prepared, he looked around the space, wondering how he could make it more comforting for you. Less like the space of a spy and more like a space worthy of you.

He fiddled with his scarred fingers while his brain raced, remembering what your bedroom looked like or what you did to the rooms you read in when you wanted a night in.

Azriel quickly made his way to your room, praying to the Mother you wouldn't be angry with him for entering without your permission.

Your bedroom had been exactly what Azriel expected it to be when he first entered it all those years ago. The walls were a dark blue, decorated with drawings and artwork bought in Velaris and drawn of the inner circle. Books littered the space, along with a music player, a chest filled with trinkets from other courts, and an entire shelf of your favorite teas. Your bed was unmade and messy, white sheets and white comforter bundled altogether. There, Azriel spied what he was searching for: a little stuffed bat you slept with.

He and Cassian both had teased you relentlessly when they had glimpsed the small thing on your floor one day. Your cheeks had gone bright red as you floundered trying to explain that you didn't get to have anything like that as a child and you wouldn't be shamed for finding comfort in it now.

Azriel found it endearing. Even during his teasing, an admirable smile had still tugged at his face, his eyes gleaming with care. Such a tough girl but still soft.

He picked it up in one large hand, turning to see if there was anything else in the room you might like to have with you. A book on your nightstand you were reading, your favorite candle -- Azriel grabbed it all before going to make his exit.

When he went to leave, however, he spied something on the desk next to your door.

It was a flower. Long dead, but preserved by being pressed into artwork, framed delicately and displayed on the wooden desk. Azriel recognized that flower. One from nearly a year ago. A daisy.

Azriel had been making his way to Elain's garden, infatuated with her at the time. Knowing how much she liked plants, he had bought some beautiful flowers for her under the guise of sprucing up Rhys' and Feyre's house. But he had seen you on his way over, and your eyes had lit up seeing the bouquet. He remembered the guilt that had swirled in his stomach, seeing how just the sight of the flowers had made you happy. So he had pulled the most perfect daisy out of the variety of flowers and held it out to you.

"For our Daisy," he had said. And you had smiled so sweetly, it had warmed the guilt in his chest away.

The daisy stared back at him now, and he felt like crying again.

Because you were such a sweet soul. He knew at the time the flower would make you happy, that's why he had given it to you. But for it to mean so much to save it?

One small flower had meant so much when he had been carrying an entire bouquet for someone else.

He suddenly felt like he needed to give you the entire world.

You were such a sweet girl, and he had almost lost you.

Azriel swallowed hard, readjusting the things in his arms and leaving your room.

He would give you your stuffed bat, set your book nearby, light your favorite candle, and then he was going to order some fucking daisies.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar fic #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel fluff

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atskiruma · 1 year

Text

he makes you cry

expl: he doesn't usually care about others' feelings, so how was he supposed to know what he did to you was mean?

a/n: appalled that this is my first time doing my favorite geo boy, appalled and ashamed; also exhausted this might not be my best work, requests sent will be fulfilled soon, i just need some rest! just got hired at a job that i went for an interview with today, so work will slowly be coming out later and later, sorry!

ask me anything

masterlist

second-person writing no pronouns used, 2,818 words

Xiao was not fond of caring about others' emotions, nor did it ever occur to him that he should care. He tried to keep his life as simple and as peaceful as possible because he deserved it after everything he went through before. Which was why he was so confused when someone would cry in front of him. Xiao never cried when times were hard, what made those salty tears escape human eyes so easily?

Most of the time, he never saw people cry, and if he did, he ignored it. That's how he was taught to deal with emotion, he'd ignore it.

It began when you were up in your room at the Inn, minding your business and trying to figure out how to make the woven bracelet that the Traveler had taught you. Frankly, it was pretty difficult, and when the Traveler was teaching you, you were so busy watching them that you never actually learned.

The hours were beginning to fly by and you could hardly make out the original pattern you were trying to replicate. Repeated failures over and over and piling yarn began to stack up on the bed next to you. It was when you had finally gotten it down to only mess up again because something distracted you was when you finally snapped.

Throwing the bracelet across the room where it rested under the table, streams of hot tears began to roll down your cheeks in frustration. You were doing everything right, why wasn't it working!

It happened to be the same time you were leaving your room when Xiao was strolling down the hallway. The two of you made eye contact and his eyes flew to where the tears were running toward the bottom of your neck. His eyes widened only a little bit and his mouth opened and closed like a fish only to not know what to say.

You also stood still and stared at him. Why? Maybe you were just waiting for him to comfort you or you were curious about what he had to say. But when it was clear that he'd keep gapping like a fish, you started to walk off again. Only for him to grab your wrist before you made it too far and pull you a bit toward him.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a soft voice, hardly making eye contact with you and finding his shoes on the floor more entertaining. It was shocking to see him show such concern in general, but you remembered why you were upset and started to ball again. Pushing yourself into his chest and crying warm tears into his shirt.

His hands fumbled on the sides of you for a while until he rested them softly on your hips. Awkwardly patting you in a form of reassurance he'd never shown anyone before.

His face was pretty flat when you began to show signs of distress and sadness. Albedo was too focused on his experiment to even realize that something went wrong on your end. The sound of a beaker crashing to the floor sounded across the room, but he still kept looking forward, hardly hearing anything at all.

That sound kept up for a while, you were pretty sure you broke at least 5 beakers in the time it took for you to get them from the spare cabinet. It wasn't until the 6th beaker that you managed to catch did Albedo actually turn around to see what had happened.

His experiment seemed to be going fine, the color of the liquid sitting at the bottom of the beaker matching the picture right next to it perfectly. You sighed when you saw he had already beaten you to make the antidote.

"I don't know how you do it 'bedo. This one is probably the most difficult I've done." You said before wiping your forehead which was littered with sweat from how hard you'd been concentrating.

"Just try again, I'm sure you'll be able to complete it." He said, his encouraging words going little to no length and falling straight to the floor. It didn't help that the trashcan full of your previous broken beakers was so close. It was extremely discouraging to see how much damage you've caused just trying to learn how to brew the antidote.

Then Albedo took his leave, putting his things down when he realized the clock read 9 PM. Bidding you goodbye, he looked back one last time with his handle on the doorknob and spoke. "Humans sometimes do not carry the skill to complete such a difficult task, do not push yourself to do something you simply can't achieve."

And then the door shut. All you did was stare at where he previously had been, his words repeating in an endless loop shrinking infinitely into your mind.

"Huh?" Was all you said before a warm feeling rushed down your cheeks and landed on the toe of your shoes. Did he just call me stupid? You thought to yourself. The frustration you felt along with the fact that he just said that, caused a rush of salty tears to leave your eyes. Your eyelashes stuck together as tears mended them together.

You continued to stand there and cry, until the door opened again and the alchemist stuck his head back in the door, announcing he forgot something towards the floor. That was until he lifted his head up to see you standing there, crying. For once, he stood still and just stared at you unable to conjure any words for the scene he was witnessing.

The sniffles and the silent sounds of tears padding the floor were all that was making sound in the room. As Albedo continued to stare at you like the two of you were playing a game of freeze tag.

"I'm stupid aren't I 'bedo?" You said, which made him flinch when the sound of the nickname you gave him came out in a harsh and rude manner. "Too stupid to figure out the dumb potion because I'm just a mere human in your eyes."

"What're you talking about?" He said, with the quietest and most emotion-full voice you've ever heard him use. Albedo continued to step closer to you, almost as if he was never moving at all. When he finally did reach you, his hand brushed against your cheek and his eyes held so much concern it could fill up the sea.

"I don't think you're lesser than me, is this about what I said? I didn't mean it like that..."

You kept sniffling while looking at him, still stubborn for more than what he was giving you. His arms reached around you and held you close, something he often did when Klee would sob, which he learned from Jean.

The two of you stood like that for a while, until the blazing sun rested its eyes in the distance, and the sorrowful moon began to creep up the valley.

"What is wrong with you??" Tighnari's harsh voice came out in a way you only heard once in a while. His irritated look glared at you from where you stood, all you had done was knock down a few books, but it looked like other things were really beginning to upset him.

You expected to greet the forest ranger and spend some time together, seeing as the both of you made those plans a while ago, but it seems that he was really busy with something that he was supposed to finish a while ago.

He whipped his head back to look at the beakers on the table, making a very loud and audible sigh at your appearance here. "I'm busy, so make another time for..." He waved his hands around dramatically and quick, "Whatever it was you were planning and leave me be."

You stood silent for a while, shocked that he was giving you such an attitude, but at the same time, you had no idea how to respond to what he said. So, you did just that and didn't respond, turning on your heels and leaving. Unfortunately, Tighnari didn't hear you leave and assumed you were still sitting there waiting for him like usual. So when he turned around and opened his mouth to address you and apologize, he stopped in his tracks to see you weren't there.

When you saw Tighnari again, it was actually just his voice you had heard and your eyes didn't flicker to see if it was actually him. Collei was holding some sort of dinner for the forest rangers in the area, to both thank them and congratulate her for beating Eleazar. But you finally did see him when it was too late, and you were bumping into the forest ranger with food in your hands.

A shocked gasp came out of your mouth till the echoed noise of a bowl rumbled onto the ground and crashed down, the food flying along with it. Your distressed state increased, and you immediately flew down to try and clean it up.

In fact, you were so busy trying to clean the bowl of food that had spilled over that you didn't even realize the forest ranger was standing behind you with his hands behind his back. Until the call of your name was repeated for the 3rd time, did you turn around to look at him, tears in your eyes from how frustrated you were?

Tighnari's eyes widened before he immediately dropped to his knees and put his hand on your shoulder for comfort. It shocked him to see you in such a vulnerable state, especially with how cheery you always seemed around him.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Tighnari said, before moving his eyes down to the food splattered all over the dirt. You didn't even realize how much helping out at the party would stress you out. As soon as Tighnari muttered the words are you alright, tears flooded out more and more as you tried to hide your face in your hands. Your shoulders and body shook with how much you were crying. Tighnari moved closer to you and shielded you with his body.

Not only did he treat you terribly before, but the first time he sees you in days, you were crying? His heart felt like it could break then and there. His hand came around your back to soothingly rub circles on it while you continued to sob. His ears even flattened a bit on his head in guilt.

When Collei had come around the corner to see the pasta salad splattered on the ground, and Tighnari hugging you with his tail between his legs. She smiled and sighed a bit, before walking away to leave you two be.

It felt like a long time while the two of you sat like that, his hand never stopping to rub your back. You finally pulled away to look at him and Tighnari rested his hand on your cheek in a comforting manner.

"I'm sorry I treated you like that, I was irritated and you came in at a bad time. I never want to hurt you." His guilt-written face and ears practically flattened to his head making your heart beat in a painful rhythm.

"You can make it up to me by helping me clean this up?" You said as a sly grin grew a little bit on your face. He smiled back and rolled up his sleeves to begin cleaning.

Scaramouche was a mean boy, everyone knew that he had no filter and he acted as if he didn't care about anyone when in reality it was the exact opposite.

"You're pathetic!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, looking at your shocked expression and stance from across the room. You had just failed to do the task that Nahida assigned you again, and it seemed like the newly-found anemo holder was growing more and more impatient watching you fail over and over.

"Excuse me?" You spat back, clearly irritated with his outburst and pushiness. Scaramouche scoffed again before trailing over to where you were, Nahida watching the interaction from her desk.

"You've been doing it all wrong, and that pathetic idiot brain can't seem to comprehend that." His fingers flew a swift flick to your head, pushing you back a centimeter. "If you keep failing, shouldn't you be trying something else instead of pushing the same solution over and over? Moron."

His insults over and over were hurting, sure, but you were used to it. When you felt good. Right now, this was the last thing you needed after failing again and again. At one point you even glanced over at Nahida after failing and saw her face look a bit reluctant about your skills. Which increased your anxiety tenfold.

"I never knew someone could be so stupid. I even worked with morons every day in the Fatui, but none match up to how idiotic you are." Scaramouche just kept blasting insult after insult at you. What was with him today? Was he really that peeved you didn't wait for him in the morning to walk over here?

Moving aside and putting your hands up defensively, you made way for the prince and his smart brain. He moved in front of you and began looking down at what you were doing. It looked like Nahida was still working with you on Fermat's Last Theorem, which was an extremely difficult math equation, back in the 17th century. Scaramouche made a noticeable eye roll before sitting down to begin writing out how to solve it.

What he didn't see was your reaction to the last flinching insult he threw your way. He didn't witness the tears swell up in your eyes and he also didn't see you walk away and leave the sanctuary. Only witnessing your presence gone when he looked up to turn another sarcastic comment towards you. Scaramouche's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before looking around him to see where you went. He turned towards Nahida when he couldn't find you and she looked up at him before looking back down at her papers.

"Tsk, whatever." He pushed his seat back and sat up to leave, wondering what he should have for dinner instead of concerning himself with where you went. It wasn't until later in the evening when he saw you again, sitting back at the desk, not uttering an obnoxious sigh or an irritating "What does this mean??"

He eased himself over to you with his hands in his pockets before leaning behind your shoulder to see what you were doing. You were working on the problem again, but his copy of it was nowhere to be seen, that is until he looked towards the trash and saw his handwriting on the paper barely crumpled and resting near the top of the bin.

"You threw away my paper?" He said with irritation lining every letter. You kept writing though and paid him no mind. The silent treatment seemed to be really riling him up because he continued to berate you over and over as you sat there taking it and continuing to work.

It was only an hour later that it really started to bother him with you being quiet. Maybe what he said earlier was too harsh, he didn't really feel that bad, but if it meant you weren't going to speak to him then he had to do something.

Leaning over you again, he placed his hand on your upper arm, grabbing your attention from the unusual act. His eyes met yours and held the stare for a couple seconds before he spoke,

"I'm sorry." That was all he said.

You raised an eyebrow at him, before squinting your eyes in confusion and responding.

"Sorry for what..?" The sarcasm dripped from every syllable and landed on his fragile ego.

His eyes widened and he took his hand from your arm, frowning and shouting back,

"I don't repeat myself! Accept the apology I gave you."

"You're such a child, does saying sorry really hurt that bad?"

"You heard me!"

Your eyes rolled and you turned back to your paper as if you were going back to ignoring him, his eyes softened again and he grabbed your arm once more.

"I'm sorry I said those mean words to you. I didn't mean it, I don't like it when you leave without me and I don't like it when you're upset."

When he grabbed your arm, you didn't turn to face him again, but after hearing the words he spoke, you turned again with a smile on your face and leaned closer to his.

The blush was evidently growing the more you leaned in, and you could see his adam's apple bob with nervousness.

"I accept your apology Kunikuzushi."

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #albedo x reader #albedo imagines #tighnari x reader #tighnari imagines #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche imagines #atskiruma

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pshaven · 3 months

Text

LITTLE BIT OF AFFECTION 박성훈 ᥫ᭡

pairing sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis as your manager, sunghoon has to ensure all your needs are met and that you’re performing at your absolute best. but when your ex turns out to be the director of your newest project, you’re not doing your best. it’s his job to guarantee that this never happens again. (ib the manhwa, muse on fame!)

cw smut (mdni), coworkers(??) to lovers, vulnerability, beomgyu hits on reader, heeseung as reader’s ex, jealous!sunghoon, service top!sunghoon, BIG DICK SUNGHOON, sunghoon tells reader to boss him around (spoiler, she doesn’t), no protection (pls don’t do this), creampie, dirty talk, reassurance, cunnilingus, pnv, sunghoon pussy drunk, feelings are not being discussed, (small) aftercare, lmk if there’s anything i missed!!

wc 5.7k+

Sunghoon has one job– making sure that you are doing your job.

At your beck and call, he’s always there for you since you started to blow up in the acting industry. He was assigned to you by your agency, and you don’t have any complaints about him. You’ve heard stories of actors and actresses wanting to constantly change their managers and assistants, but Sunghoon has yet to give you a reason to doubt his skills.

He ensures that you’re on time for everything, which is step one of getting in the good books of movie producers and directors. You’ve only grown more with him by your side, and you feel like if he isn’t there for you, you would’ve gone into bollywood.

And you definitely would not be here, right now, on the red carpet with him standing securely behind you as paparazzi take photos of you. Your eyes squint slightly at the bright flashes, never really getting used to the swarm of camera clicks being shoved in your face even after years of experience.

Sunghoon notices your discomfort, and he speeds up his walk to catch up to your side as he brings his arm in front of your face to shield you from the paparazzi. “That’s enough. Thank you guys for your time,” He says, ever so stoic and cold as he bows stiffly before linking your arm with his, leading you inside the awards venue.

Staying with Sunghoon for so long has its perks. He easily picks up your facial or body expressions, knowing when you’re uncomfortable or satisfied with something. You don’t have to voice a single thing with him, if you really didn’t want to. He already knows everything. He knows what you need, what you want.

You like to think that people are jealous of you. Not because of your skills, your talent, or popularity in the acting industry, but of your Sunghoon. You think you got extremely lucky with him. He’s just your manager, but he’s much more than that.

He likes to cook for you, especially after that one night where you randomly said you enjoyed home cooked meals rather than eating out. He drives you everywhere and would drop whatever he’s doing in a millisecond just to take you to the mall. That being said, he’s also your stylist almost. He has shockingly good taste, knows what material or color you like or dislike. You always go with his picks rather than your actual stylist.

So of course, tonight, you’re wearing what he picked out for you. Which undoubtedly, leads to many other actors and actresses staring and it only makes you more confident about yourself, and the man by your side.

You’re aware of the ongoing rumors, albeit not aired to the public, so it’s only being spread to other actors in the industry. The rumors of you and your manager dating. How absurd, how unprofessional! Sunghoon is here for you and your work, only. It’s his job to make sure his actress is doing well and getting everything she wants, no?

This is why you think people are jealous of your Sunghoon. You like to pretend like you’re parading your beloved manager around other actors and actresses since he’s just so amazing– the manager that everyone can only wish for, and you have him in the palm of your hand.

“Ahem… excuse me?”

You turn your head around, looking past Sunghoon’s broad figure. Beomgyu stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously as he plays with the rings that adorn his fingers. You silently gasp– Beomgyu is incredibly well known, way more than you are (in your humble opinion).

“Yes? Hello,” You smile politely as Sunghoon steps to the side a bit, looking anywhere but at you and Beomgyu conversing. Not that it makes any difference, he’s going to be listening closely anyway. He doesn’t need to look at your body language to know when you want to get away.

“Sorry to bother. Just wanted to introduce myself, I loved you in ‘I Found You’. I’m Beomgyu,” he introduces himself, extending his hand out to you.

Your smile widens at the compliment as you shake hands with him, “Thanks so much! It was my first romance movie, so it was a bit difficult but I’m glad you enjoyed watching it. I love all your works as well… you didn’t even need to introduce yourself to me.” You laugh a little.

Beomgyu chuckles as well. “Ah, well just in case. Don’t wanna seem like an asshole if I don’t. Plus my movies aren’t really to everyone's taste, I stick to a very specific genre…” he trails off as he begins to ponder in thought, “...but I would be willing to try out a romance movie with you.”

You’re caught off guard, your eyes widening subtly and you’re unsure on how to reply. No doubt he’s attractive, but you’re still in your early years and still rising in the charts. Going on dates is forbidden in your contract for now.

But you have your trusty manager, Sunghoon, who clears his throat before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Let’s go?” He whispers so closely, you can feel his lips barely touching the shell of your ear. A shiver runs down your spine before you nod softly, taking his arm that he offers to you.

“It was nice to meet you. We have to be going to our seats now,” Sunghoon speaks for you so that you don’t have to directly answer Beomgyu's innuendo. He leads you down the aisle of seats, leaving Beomgyu alone at the top.

“Good morning, Y/n,” Sunghoon greets you as you come out of your bedroom, hair still a mess and eyes barely adjusting to the bright sun. “You have a new project.” He points to the folder on your kitchen island, and you groggily make your way to pick it up.

You flip through it, barely paying attention to much other than the title since all the script words looked jumbled up. You place it back down on the countertop as you sit down across from where Sunghoon stands.

“Interested?” He asks you, placing a plate in front of you that has a (too) healthy looking avocado toast and two strips of bacon. You frown at the plate, but you don’t complain as you take the fork to take a bite of the bacon. Sunghoon chuckles at this before turning around and placing another plate next to your sad avocado toast. You happily grin at the new plate of waffles and strawberries, thanking him profusely.

You take a bite of the waffle before answering him. “Sure, I guess,” You shrug your shoulders, too busy with your delicious breakfast to even take note of the plot, directors, producers, the, you know, important stuff.

“Alright, then eat up. I will be back later, I need to take care of some things. Call me if you need anything, alright?” He grabs his coat and keys, but slows down when he sees you look up at him from your meal.

“Where are you going?”

“To the office. I got called in earlier, but wanted to stop by to make you breakfast before I went,” He informs you with a shrug before giving you a (tiny) reassuring smile, wishing you a goodbye. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

A few weeks have passed, which means that it’s time for you to start production of your new project. You’ve read the script and everything, and it was… very interesting. You’re not the main lead or anything, but you play the second leading role. You’ve never been a fan of love triangles or anything of that sort, but after a good read-through and analysis, the writer seems to make this one more interesting.

So you’re intrigued, flipping through the script once more as Sunghoon drives you to the filming location. He looks over at you for a second, “Already memorized some lines, huh?” He’s half joking– you’ve got some weird knack for memorizing lines and improvising, and it’s one of the reasons why you’re such a sought out actress nowadays. Improvisation makes it more natural and interesting, and you get consumed into your roles very easily which makes it easy for you to improvise on the spot.

You huff out a laugh, closing the folder and setting it aside. “Only like, five.”

Sunghoon pulls up to the filming location– a pretty, wide and open lake. You walk up to the set, Sunghoon following closely behind but you suddenly stop in your tracks. He nearly collides into you if it weren’t for his eyes catching your sudden halt.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, concerns beginning to raise as he follows where your eyes are trained on. He has a bit of trouble trying to follow what you’re looking at, but your eyes begin to squint and your nose also scrunch up slightly. Your signs of discomfort.

He places a comforting hand on the small of your back, and most of the time it does the trick.

But this time, it didn't.

“Y/n? Look at me,” Sunghoon says, voice still even and stern but he’s worried as overthinking thoughts begin to flood into his brain.

Your brows furrow and the corner of your lips curve into a slight frown. You’re still not paying attention to Sunghoon, and he’s not having any of it. He needs to know why you’re like this, and he won’t just wait for you.

He grabs your chin, turning your head away from whatever you were looking at. “You okay?” He asks softly now, after seeing your eyes glossy, like you’re about to cry. Never in his years of being your manager has he seen you like this. You look vulnerable, with your wide and wet eyes looking up at him with your brows knitted together.

He wants to eat you up.

“Director…” You mumble out as your jaw clenches. Now he understands– you’re not sad. You’re angry. And for some reason, you’re angry at the director.

He turns his attention to the director that’s grabbing a cup of coffee from (presumably) his secretary’s hand. For the first time, Sunghoon doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know why you’re so upset and angry at the director. As your manager, he always does background checks on whoever you’re working with. He always makes sure you’re working with well-respected actors, producers, and directors. Did he miss something? Impossible.

One look at you makes him want to take you back home.

But as your manager, it’s his job to ensure that you do yours. And in this case, it is to act.

His eyes harden as he squeezes your shoulder softly. “What’s wrong with the director?”

He’s your manager. You need to tell him the truth if you want him to help you.

“My ex.”

It’s like Sunghoon just got slapped across the face. Of course! He feels like a fucking idiot. It’s his job to know your relationships, even before you got into acting. He needs to know for situations like this, but it’s too late now. You’ve already signed a contract to act in this movie, and there’s no backing out.

He breathes out a hefty sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Sunghoon apologizes, but you shake your head before looking back up at him. And like that, your eyes are dry and your face is stoic. This is what he likes about you. You’re professional– you won’t let ex’s affect your acting, even if it’s just for a moment of weakness.

“It’s okay. You didn’t know,” You mumble. You take a deep breath before walking closer to the set, catching the attention of staff, and the director.

“Y/n?” Heeseung gets up from his director’s seat, going up to you with a perfect, pearly white smile. You feel sick inside as he engulfs you in a warm hug that you sometimes miss whenever you’re alone in your bed at night.

“Hi… Heeseung,” You greet, keeping the hug short and sweet as you pull away and step back, your backside meeting Sunghoon’s chest in solidarity.

“It’s really nice to see you again, after all these years,” He begins the small talk, and you bite your bottom lip to refrain from any peak of weakness showing through. “I’m glad our wish is coming true, now. You remember? You, starring in one of my movies, that I’ll direct.”

You feel Sunghoon stiffening up at Heeseung’s words.

That silly promise. That stupid, insignificant promise that you and Heeseung made when the two of you were still dating. When the two of you were still trying to find the path to become a part of the movie industry. What a waste of time.

Five years ago, you wouldn’t believe that you and Heeseung broke up. There was one point in time where it was just you and him, no one else. You had no one to depend on, he had no one to depend on. The two of you just found one another, and it was comfortable.

Unfortunately, you didn’t see a future with him. Therefore, a lot of crying and begging of please, take me back! Give me another chance! were being said that night.

Sunghoon clears his throat to capture the attention of the both of you. “I think Y/n needs to go get her hair and makeup done, now,” He speaks in his usual monotone voice, except this time there’s no ‘pleased to meet you’, or ‘nice talking to you’ this time.

He leads you away from Heeseung, into your trailer where the stylists begin to work on you.

“Does he make you uncomfortable?” Sunghoon asks as the hair stylist begins to work on your hair, your makeup already done. He knows he doesn’t really have to ask this question, but he wants your verbal answer this time.

“No.”

A white lie, both you and Sunghoon know it, but neither of you acknowledge your fib.

He nods, getting up from his seat on the spare chair beside you. “Do you want me to grab you anything? Coffee, snacks…? I think there’s a bakery nearby or something. I can see if they have your favorite, strawberry croissant?”

What your answer would usually be a yes please!, you shake your head as you purse your lips into a thin line.

“No. Please stay.”

And so he does. He stays with you throughout the entire shoot, not keeping his eye off you. Even during breaks and scene cuts, he’s by your side in a second before Heeseung can even get a word in with you. The day ends slower than you would wish for, but the producer yells that’s a wrap!, and you’re booking it into your designated trailer.

You pack up quickly with the help of Sunghoon before the two of you make your way into his car. But of course, you’re not exactly the luckiest person in the world today it seems like.

“Y/n! Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Heeseung calls for you, lightly jogging up to catch up to you and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon gives you a look that asks if you want him to make a lame excuse that you have to go and can’t spare any time for Heeseung, but you give your manager a slight smile and a reassuring nod.

You can’t avoid Heeseung forever, especially since you know this project will take at least three months to finish. You should at least get the closure you didn’t get five years ago.

“Hi, Y/n. You’re hard to catch up with,” Heeseung chuckles lightly, rubbing the nape of his neck, a nervous habit of his that you know all too well.

You smile at him, returning a small laugh. “Ah, sorry. Just wanted to go home and take a nice shower, but what’s up?”

“I just wanted to say, um…” Heeseung struggles with his words, biting the inside of his cheek, “I hope we can work well together. Once again, I’m really happy that you're on this project with me. I requested you personally…”

Your smile drops, but you’re quick to pick it back up, but it’s a weak smile. “Thank you, Heeseung. It’s really nice to see you again, after all these years.” You’re quick to dismiss his heartful words.

“Y/n, I’ve, uhm– I really miss you.”

“Y/n. It’s getting late. Are you ready to go?” Once again, Sunghoon is your savior.

You turn your head to Sunghoon by your side, and you nod. “See you on Tuesday, Heeseung,” You bid him farewell, plainfully ignoring his words as you climb into the passenger seat of the car.

Sunghoon shuts the door behind you, turning his attention to Heeseung. He walks up to the latter, and Heeseung subconsciously takes a small step back.

“You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re both here on a project. A job. Keep it professional, for Y/n’s sake, yeah?” Sunghoon icily says, not waiting for Heeseung’s response before he leaves to get into the driver's seat of the car.

He pulls out of the parking lot quickly, and you turn your head to your manager. “What did you say to him? And don’t lie that you didn’t say anything. I saw your mouth moving!”

Sunghoon merely shrugs his shoulders, keeping an arm on the steering wheel and his other on the console. “I told him to keep things professional. I heard what he said.”

You frown, looking away from him and out the window.

“Your acting was not really up to its standard today, Y/n,” Sunghoon tells you informingly, and your frown deepens. You know. You were aware, but to hear him say it makes it hurt your ego even more.

“He’s affecting your acting, isn’t he?” He speaks again, taking your silence as an agreement to his previous statement.

You scoff quietly, but it doesn’t miss Sunghoon’s sharp ears. “You’re asking me, but you’re saying it like it’s a fact,” you mumble, shifting closer to the car door.

Sunghoon frowns at this, a sigh leaving his lips. He doesn’t say anything in return, and the rest of the car ride back to your home is silent.

He pulls up into your driveway, quickly getting out and opening the door to your side. You thank him quietly, hopping out and making your way to your front door. Sunghoon silently follows you inside, locking the door behind him like it’s routine (it is).

“Y/n.”

You stop in your tracks, your shoulders sagging in defeat but you still have a bit of pride within you, not wanting to turn around to meet eyes with your manager.

“It is my job to ensure that you do your job well. And I failed today.”

He says it so matter of factly, it almost makes you want to snort that he takes this manager position so seriously. Perhaps he doesn’t know how much he’s really done to help you in your acting career.

You spin on your heel, turning to look at him. He takes a few steps towards you, and you stay put in the middle of your hallway.

Sunghoon continues. “I failed, and I’m sorry. I will make sure that this doesn’t happen again.”

You raise an eyebrow curiously, tilting your head to the side, “Oh? And how exactly are you going to do that?”

“Taking your mind off that ex of yours.”

He brings you into a kiss, a soft and quick one to see your reaction.

Maybe it’s the loneliness of the past years since you signed into your contract with the agency, or the vulnerability after seeing Heeseung for the first time in five years, but you feel desperate to feel Sunghoon’s lips on yours again.

So you do so, bringing his face down and perhaps it’s the delusions in your head, but Sunghoon feels just as much, if not more, desperate than you as he deepens the kiss more, bringing his hands up to your waist and pulling you in closer.

This is probably the most emotion you’ve seen from him in the three years you’ve worked with him. He’s grabbing at the fabric of your flimsy shirt, trying to pull you impossibly closer to him. He slips his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan softly as you entangle your fingers with his hair.

He groans back as he pushes you down the hall, into your bedroom. He’s been in your place plenty of times to know your layout like the back of his hand. He breaks the kiss for the two of you to catch your breath, but he barely gives you a chance to do so as he attacks your neck with his lips.

He’s nibbling at your skin, careful to not leave marks since it would only cause rumors to spread around and make it difficult for your makeup artists to cover up. But it’s easier said than done, as his teeth grazes against your collarbone while he slips the sleeves of your shirt down.

You bite your lip in anticipation, waiting and wanting him to just bite and mark you as his, but it never comes. He goes back to your lips, gently laying you down on your bed and helping you take off your shirt.

“Fuck–” Sunghoon hisses, admiring your bare chest since you had decided to discard a bra for today. “So pretty…” He mumbles, sounding dazed out. He attaches his lips to your pert nipples, his tongue circling around the bud that makes you squirm.

“S-sung..” You whimper out, your hand still entangled in the locks of his hair. He merely acknowledges you, a hum coming out from his chest as he moves on to your other nipple. You’re extremely squirmish, mostly because it’s been too long since you’ve gotten laid, but also Sunghoon’s tongue seems to read your body like a kid’s alphabet book.

“Shit,” He groans, now tugging at your pants desperately, his fingers fumbling clumsily with your button and zipper. “Need you naked for me, all for me.”

You bite your inner cheek to suppress your moan at his words, helping him out with taking your pants off. He impatiently throws your panties onto the floor beside the bed, marking his place between your thighs by kissing down your tummy.

If his intentions were to drive you crazy, it’s working.

“Heeseung ever eaten you out?” He asks suddenly, his low-lidded eyes looking up at you like some predator and you’re his prey for tonight. You bite your lip, slowly nodding.

Sunghoon gives you a curt nod in return. “I guarantee you, I’m much better.”

Maybe it’s the jealousy talking and he’s just letting his mouth run without thinking, but he doesn’t have time to overthink when he dives into your cunt and gets a taste of you. He immediately releases a moan, his hot breath on your pussy making you buck your hips up for more.

He has a job to do, and that is to make sure you don’t ever think of Heeseung again. Heeseung should be the least of your worries when you have to focus on your acting! So he makes it a personal mission, switching between swirling his tongue on your clit and prodding at your entrance.

The teasing drives you wild, wanting him to either pay attention to just your clit or your clenching hole. And like he’s reading your mind, he inserts a finger.

“Ah~! H-hoon, wan’ more!” You moan out, your hips beginning to gyrate for more friction from his singular finger. He grants you your wish, slipping another finger into your entrance and you breath out a relieved sigh.

Your taste could have him between your thighs forever, with you practically humping his face with need. Next time, he’s sure to have you sitting on his face, and he’ll drown happily in your juices.

“Fuckkk…” He moans out, his own hips starting to dry hump your sheets to let his neglected cock get some attention. To see his desperation makes you needier, your arousal spilling from your already sloppy cunt.

He notices you clenching around his fingers, and he takes the time to pull away from making out with your pussy. “You turned on? Seeing me like this? Reduced to putty by your hands?” He’s taunting you, you know but it only makes you moan louder.

You nod repeatedly, his fingers speeding up at your answer. “You taste so good, want you to cum on my tongue… can you do that for me? Hm?” He practically whines, going back to devouring your pussy without waiting for an answer.

He was going to make you cum on his mouth, either way. He feels like a starved man, slurping up your juices and arousal that leak out. Your thighs are a mess, a mix of your slick and his own saliva. He pulls his fingers out and his tongue pokes out, a glob of spit landing right on your clit.

You jolt a bit, and Sunghoon is quick to plant his hands on your waist and thigh to keep you from squirming away. “No, no, don’t move away now, baby. Let me taste what you have to give me.”

His thumb rubs at your swollen clit, but your empty hole clenches around nothing with need. Your hips work itself on his fingers, chasing for more and he watches you with awe. “Looks like you’re the one reduced to putty instead of me, now. You’re ‘bout to cum?” He hums, watching your wet cunt shine from your wetness.

You hiccup as his thumb speeds up and his tongue inserts itself into your entrance. You cry out a moan, hands frantically pulling at his hair as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. He’s moaning into you from your taste, his own hands having your thighs in a death grip to keep you from squirming away.

“S-sungho–” You begin to stutter, the pleasure beginning to overwhelm your body and take over your thoughts. He already knows, as if he’s known your body for centuries. He nods repeatedly as a signal to allow you to cum while tongue fucking you, the motion only sending you into overdrive.

“Fuck! Oh my goddd~ cu-cumming!” You squeal, and he only presses his face further into your pussy as if his life mission was to soak his face in your essence (it just might be). He retracts when he feels you gently pushing him away, the overstimulation too much for you to handle.

“Shit,” He curses, his tongue peeking out to lick at the corners of his lips, “Could eat you all day and night. Need you sitting on my face next time,” He mumbles, staring at your twitching cunt. You breathe heavily, recollecting your thoughts as you begin to slowly sit up, leaning on your elbows.

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at you, giving you a weird expression. “What? Is something wrong?” You ask, suddenly insecure as you instinctively shrink down a bit onto the bed.

“You think we’re done?”

Your eyes widen a bit, chest still heaving up and down as you catch your breath. “O-oh, I can, uhm… use my mouth on you?”

His thick brows furrow together. “No.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, looking away for a second out of embarrassment. You thought he liked it, did he not? Before you can even begin to overthink, you hear his belt clanking onto the ground, the zipper unzipping reaching your ears. You snap your head back at his lower half, seeing his hard cock out.

He’s softly stroking himself, his hand holding at the base that only makes his tip look even more angry and red. You gape at the sight, unconsciously scooting up against the headboard.

“Why do you keep running from me today?” Sunghoon tsks, frowning a bit as he grabs your lower calves, pulling you down towards him. You yelp quietly, his strength easily spreading your legs apart.

“Is this okay?” He asks, his tip teasing at your clit and spreading your wetness all over. You nod frantically, your hands grabbing at the sheets in anticipation. He’s definitely bigger than Heeseung, and he was already big in your eyes.

Sunghoon groans as he inserts himself inside your warm entrance, his eyes shutting as his lips part. “God, you feel so fucking—“ He hisses as he continues to go deeper, his eyes opening to watch your expression fall apart just from his cock splitting you into half.

“F-fuck, so deep…” You moan out like you’re complaining, but your legs wrap around his lower waist despite your words. You throw your head back into the pillow, feeling overwhelmed from him filling you up as your eyes screw shut.

He buries himself in you, balls deep as he hides his face into your neck. He chuckles breathlessly, the sensation against your neck making you all the more sensitive and ticklish. “S’cute. You want me that bad?” He’s referring to your legs wrapped needily around his waist, trapping him deep in you.

You nod desperately, his body weight on top of you making it impossible to move your hips against him. He smiles down at you, but his smile isn’t one of tenderness— it’s mischievous, how the corner of his lips curve slightly more upwards.

”You’re the boss of me. Tell me what to do,” He whispers into the nape of your neck, lips pressing wet kisses down your shoulder. You whine, now shaking your head as your mouth parts to speak, but nothing comes out.

Sunghoon’s smirk is now more obvious, enjoying the sight of you going dumb just by cockwarming him. “What? What’s wrong? You’re a smart girl, no? You know what you want. So say it.”

You lick your dry lips, taking a moment to think what he wants to hear. “Want.. want you to make me forget. Make me yours…” You trail off, beginning to get shy but Sunghoon proves you otherwise when a low growl rumbles in his chest.

He grabs your legs from behind him, pushing your thighs down to your chest. You gasp in surprise, his strength making you dizzy as he forces your legs down while his hips begin to thrust into you.

“Finally,” He groans out, hips easily picking up pace, “took you long enough. I was really debating on flipping you over and just make you take it… but this is much better,” he rambles, eyes focusing on where you’re taking him, his cock shining with your juices each time he pulls out.

“Sh-shut up… fast-er!” You cry out, voice breaking when his thrusts become harder, the force of his hips hitting your ass making you moan louder.

“Telling me to shut up now? You’re beginning to act real bossy…” He mutters underneath his breath but does as you ask, lifting his body weight off of you to thrust faster.

Your eyes begin to roll back, your grip on the sheets releasing and immediately flying to his back, your pretty manicured nails digging crescents into his shoulders. He’s panting above you, hair sticking to his forehead as he watches you only get louder.

He lets a whimper escape his lips from your nails scratching at his back, leaning down close to you again. He nudges at your lips, but you’re too lost to comprehend that he wants a kiss as your mouth is left open from moaning and gasping.

Both of your bodies rock back and forth on your bed, the sheets barely hanging from the edge as he presses his lips to yours, muffling your desperate whines. You can’t keep up with his desperate kisses, letting him take control of your entire body and mind.

“You’re close,” He points out, noticing the way your pussy pulsates around his thick cock, each drag of him inside of you pushing you closer to the edge. You nod, your nails scratching up into the nape of his neck as you pull him down for another kiss.

It’s nasty and messy, and it only makes you whine desperately into his mouth as you cum on his cock. You throw your head back, but Sunghoon chases your lips like he’s chasing his own orgasm, his pounding only making you overly sensitive.

You feel him pull out all the way, planning to cum elsewhere but your whines of protest stops him. “Wh—no, no! Inside, please..” you bite the inside of your cheek, and he can never say no when you look absolutely delirious for his cock and cum inside you, chest heaving up and down with fucked out eyes.

He curses underneath his breath, quickly inserting himself back inside you. “Shit.. you’re so hot,” he mumbles, brows knitting together as he picks up his speed again to reach his orgasm. He buries his face back into your neck, his moans so close to your ear that it makes your cunt squeeze around him, arousal still pooling in your lower half.

You scratch at his scalp, his moans becoming louder as he approaches his climax, your cunt gushing around him and the wet squelches letting his hot cum coat your insides. You feel so disgustingly satisfied, moaning along with him as he pants into your shoulder.

The two of you stay like that in silence, catching your breaths, but Sunghoon is quick to recover as he lifts himself off of you. Your eyes are droopy, mind clouding with sleep, sleep, sleep. He smiles softly at you, watching you eventually fall into slumber.

He gets dressed, making his way into your bathroom and grabbing a towel to lay down between your legs so that his cum doesn’t make a mess of your sheets (like he doesn’t need to wash it later for you anyway). He cleans you up slowly, carefully maneuvering your limbs to not wake you up.

He puts your blanket over your naked body and he brushes the hair out of your face, his touch lingers for a second before leaving and getting into his car. He sighs when he gets into the driver's seat, closing his eyes as he mentally reprimands himself.

It’s his job to keep you in check. He’s getting paid to ensure that you act well and to not get distracted when working. But now, it seems like he’s the one getting distracted.

#enhypen smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen #kpop smut

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jewelleria · 1 month

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I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be.

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate.

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified.

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map.

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle.

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more.

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop.

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments.

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on.

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not.

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways.

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine.

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war.

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this:

I am a Jew.

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love.

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners.

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee!

Then they sent me this:

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die.

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind.

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake.

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired.

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people?

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews.

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like.

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for.

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war.

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why.

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be.

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller