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focusonkayjay · 13 days ago

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nothing like us | oneshot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: enemies to lovers, fake dating, corporate employees! jungkook & reader, angst, fluff

Word Count: 26k+

Chapter Warnings: mature language, mentions of blood, small injury (lmk if i missed something)

A/N: hello bbies <3 i firstly want to apologize for not posting these past few days. i've been so undeniably busy with uni and work and i totally didn't get the time to proof read before posting. anyways, i hope you like this new oneshot. it's not my best work but parts of it is inspired by "to all the boys i've loved before". (my fav hot tub scene). anyways let me know if you liked this one. muah <3

You take a sip of coffee in the dimly lit office coffee room, letting the rich aroma soothe your nerves. The quiet hum of the vending machine is the only sound accompanying you, a welcome reprieve from the chaos outside.

It’s been one of those days... emails piling up, back-to-back meetings, and a project deadline looming over your head. This is your sanctuary, a brief moment of peace in the hurricane of corporate monotony.

Your job isn’t terrible, though. It’s a typical corporate gig with all the spreadsheets, presentations, polite nods in meetings, and the occasional office drama. Sure, you’d rather be at home binge-watching your favorite series, but hey, bills don’t pay themselves.

As you savor the quiet, your moment of zen is abruptly interrupted. “Y/N-ahhh, there you are! I’ve been looking for you all afternoon!” You almost choke on your coffee at the familiar voice. With a resigned sigh, you turn to face Mrs. Lee.

Mrs. Lee is a middle-aged coworker who’s perpetually cheerful and undoubtedly kind. She’s the type of person who brings in homemade snacks for the whole team and remembers everyone’s birthdays. But she also has a certain... hobby... trying to convince you to go on blind dates.

“Hello, Mrs. Lee.” you greet her politely, though you can already guess what she’s about to say. She clasps her hands together, her smile lighting up the room. “So! Remember how I told you about my nephew who just moved to the city? He’s such a sweet boy, Y/N, and I just know you two would hit it off!”

You suppress a sigh, forcing your features into a polite expression. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Mrs. Lee, but—”

“Oh, don’t say no just yet! He’s a doctor, you know. Very handsome, tall, comes from a good family... he even volunteers at animal shelters in his free time!” she cuts you off, her smile only getting bigger.

You resist the urge to groan. This isn’t the first time she’s done this. In fact, it’s become a bit of a routine. She genuinely believes you’re some sort of eligible bachelorette in desperate need of matchmaking services. No matter how many times you’ve politely declined in the past, she always finds a way to circle back to it.

“Mrs. Lee...” you begin gently. “I really appreciate you thinking of me, but I’m not looking to date anyone right now. Things are just... really busy at work.”

She waves a dismissive hand, undeterred. “Nonsense! You work too hard, Y/N. A nice young man in your life would do wonders for you!” she says. Before you can come up with another excuse, a voice cuts through the room.

“Y/N... Mrs. Lee...” Suho’s head peeks into the coffee room, his usual friendly smile plastered across his face. “Mr. Cho is expecting all of us in the meeting room in five. Says it’s something... important.” he informs.

“Oh, Suho! Thank you, dear!” Mrs. Lee chirps, momentarily distracted. Suho flashes another warm smile before disappearing down the hallway. You silently thank him for the interruption, offering Mrs. Lee a tight-lipped smile as the two of you make your way out of the coffee room. But Mrs. Lee, ever-persistent, continues.

“Y/N, you really shouldn’t let opportunities like this slip by! Life is short, and my nephew really is such a catch—”

She goes on and on and you nod absently, tuning out her words as you walk down the hallway. But then, halfway there, your stomach sinks. Coming from the opposite direction, making his way to the meeting room, is fricking Jeon Jungkook.

Your steps falter for a moment, but you quickly recover, your face already settling into an expression of disdain. Jungkook’s sharp eyes sweep across the hallway, landing on you and Mrs. Lee.

Instantly, you see his jaw tighten, and his gaze flickers with something like annoyance before he rolls his eyes in that infuriatingly dismissive way he always does. You’re quick to mirror his reaction, rolling your eyes as if it’s a reflex.

Jeon Jungkook or let's just call him your biggest arch-nemesis in this corporate jungle.

The two of you joined the company around the same time, and from the very beginning, sparks flew... but not the good kind. Where you had opinions, Jungkook had ego. Where he had solutions, you had questions. You were never the type to back down, and he… well, he hated that.

It became an unspoken rule in the office that if there was a debate in the room, it would almost certainly come down to you and Jungkook.

Everyone at work knew about your rivalry. In fact, it was often a good source of entertainment for them. Colleagues would exchange amused glances during meetings, silently placing bets on who would win the latest argument. There were even whispered jokes about how HR should schedule weekly sparring matches so that both of you could get it out of your systems. But as amusing as it might’ve been for them, it was maddening for you.

It wasn’t that Jungkook was bad at his job... in fact, quite the opposite. There was no denying that the two of you were both extremely good at what you did. You were equally hardworking, equally determined to excel. If anything, that was part of the problem. Two strong personalities in one workplace rarely made for smooth collaboration.

The issue was that you and Jungkook barely saw eye to eye on certain matters. Whether it was strategies, execution, or even the smallest logistical details, there was always some point of contention that spiraled into an argument. It was as if the universe had specifically designed your opinions to clash with his.

And then there was his disgustingly unshakable confidence, the kind that made you want to roll your eyes so far back you could see the back of your mind. He carried himself with an air of smug assurance that made every interaction with him feel like a battle, one he always seemed convinced he was winning.

To make matters worse, he was also ridiculously attractive. It annoyed you to no end that someone who drove you up the wall could also make your stomach twist with just a glance.

His sharp jawline, perfectly styled hair, and those dark, piercing eyes seemed designed to undermine your ability to stay focused. And he knew it. Every smirk, every infuriatingly casual lean against your desk felt like he was taunting you, daring you to admit it.

But any time your thoughts veered into that dangerous territory, he’d open his mouth, say something infuriating, and all your annoyance would come rushing back, as strong as ever.

Of course, the office thrived on your interactions. The two of you were practically a live sitcom, providing endless entertainment for your coworkers. But sometimes, things got a little too intense, and someone would have to step in to calm you guys down.

Yet no amount of intervention could completely quash the fire that burned whenever you and Jungkook were in the same room. It wasn’t just rivalry... it was a war of egos, fueled by equal parts frustration and… something neither of you wanted to name.

The hallway feels smaller as the distance between you closes. Jungkook walks with an air of effortless confidence, his light blue dress shirt crisp and clean, the sleeves rolled up just enough to hint at his tattooed forearms. Over it, he’s wearing a dark blue sweater vest that adds a touch of casual sophistication, paired with black trousers. It’s annoyingly polished for someone who thrives on getting under your skin.

His dark hair is pushed back neatly, save for a single stray strand that rebelliously falls across his forehead. Despite his put-together appearance, the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips is enough to spark irritation.

Mrs. Lee, oblivious to the silent war brewing between you, continues talking about her nephew.

You can’t help but think Jungkook must enjoy this little rivalry of yours. He certainly doesn’t miss an opportunity to challenge you, whether it’s in meetings, brainstorming sessions, or even during team lunches. You’re pretty sure his smugness comes factory-installed.

As you enter the meeting room, the irritation doesn’t subside. The long rectangular table is surrounded by your coworkers, with Mr. Cho seated at the head. You take a seat, only for Jungkook to take the one directly opposite you.

Great. Just great.

He catches your gaze across the table and raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to start something. You don’t take the bait, instead turning your attention to Mr. Cho, whose grin is wider than usual. He clasps his hands together, his eyes sweeping across the room.

“So, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called this meeting. This isn’t one of our regular check-ins.” he begins, pausing dramatically for effect. “I wanted to let you know about something exciting… our annual company holiday retreat!!!” he beams.

A murmur of enthusiasm ripples through the room. You take a deep breath, the announcement catching you a bit off guard. This will be your first time attending the retreat, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect.

Mr. Cho continues, his excitement palpable. “This year, we’ve decided to take things up a notch. The retreat will be held for a whole week at the Hanok Mountain Lodge, a luxurious resort nestled in the hills. It’s a stunning location with breathtaking views, cozy cabins, and plenty of activities to help us unwind and bond as a team.”

You glance around and notice your coworkers exchanging thrilled looks. Clearly, this retreat is a highlight for many of them. Mr. Cho goes on, describing the itinerary.

“There will be team-building workshops, outdoor activities like hiking and zip-lining, and of course, plenty of time to relax and enjoy the amenities. There’s also hot tubs, a spa, and for those of you who enjoy it, a private bar lounge. And let’s not forget our tradition... the talent show on the last evening!” He claps his hands together, clearly excited.

You shift in your seat, a mix of curiosity and apprehension bubbling within you. A mountain lodge retreat sounded idyllic, but the idea of spending extended time with Jungkook outside the professional setting wasn’t exactly thrilling.

Hoseok, seated beside you, nudges your arm gently. You glance at him, and his heart shaped smile instantly puts you at ease. “It’s your first time, right?” he asks, his tone soft but teasing. “Don’t worry, it’s going to be a lot of fun. They always plan these things really well.” he says. You smile back with a nod, grateful for the reassurance.

As Mr. Cho wraps up his briefing, your initial apprehension begins to fade, replaced by a tentative excitement. A luxurious mountain lodge retreat does sound like a dream... if you ignore the part where Jungkook would also be there.

It’s the day of the retreat, and the soft hues of dawn paint the sky as the company bus idles at the curb, its engine rumbling like a low purr. The bus is alive with chatter, a mix of excitement and sleepiness as everyone settles into their seats. Conversations flow freely, punctuated by laughter and the occasional clink of coffee thermoses.

You’re seated midway down the bus, comfortably beside Hoseok. He’s leaning slightly towards you, gesturing animatedly as he talks about the best hiking trails around the lodge. His voice carries a warmth that puts you at ease, and you find yourself nodding along, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you sip your coffee.

The bus door hisses open, and Jungkook steps in, dressed in a casual, perfect combination of a black hoodie and fitted jeans. His dark hair is slightly tousled, as if he didn’t try but somehow still managed to look effortlessly good. His eyes scan the bus with practiced disinterest, sweeping over rows of coworkers until they suddenly land on you.

You, with your head tilted slightly towards Hoseok, a small laugh escaping as he finishes whatever he's saying. Hoseok's grin is wide as he teases you about something that Jungkook can't hear.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his posture stiffening. The sight is a familiar punch to the gut, a wave of something uncomfortably sharp and consuming. He can’t name it... doesn’t want to name it... but it churns in his stomach like an unwelcome storm. His grip on the strap of his bag tightens.

Every time this happens, he tell himself it's just irritation. After all, it’s not like he cares who you talk to. You’re just his rival, his constant thorn. But deep down, a crack forms in that reasoning, and he’s too stubborn to look any closer.

His gaze flickers away, quick and practiced, like an artist shading over a mistake. He moves down the aisle with a measured stride, ignoring the way his chest feels inexplicably heavy. His long legs carry him past your row, but not before his sharp ears catch the sound of your sweet laugh again. It grates against the knot forming in his chest, pulling tighter with every step.

Jungkook finally drops into a seat two rows behind you, tossing his bag onto the empty seat beside him. He slouches back, his head resting against the cold window. The faint vibrations of the bus barely register as he plugs in his headphones, choosing a random playlist in an effort to drown out his thoughts.

But the music doesn’t help. It doesn’t drown out the sound of your laugh or the way you seemed so at ease with Hoseok. And it certainly doesn’t ease the sting that came with seeing you look at someone else with that kind of attention.

He stares out the window, his reflection faint against the backdrop of the city streets rolling by. He tells himself, whatever he's feeling right now, it’s annoyance, irritation at your loud conversation, frustration at your inability to keep your voice down. But the truth creeps in, unwelcome and undeniable.

It unfortunately isn’t just irritation. It’s something deeper, something he refuses to acknowledge because acknowledging it would mean confronting feelings he’s buried under layers of rivalry and pride.

So he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as if that will banish the image of you and Hoseok from his mind. He’ll bury this feeling just like he does everything else, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter. That you don’t matter.

But even as the bus begins to move, carrying everyone towards the retreat, Jungkook’s thoughts stay rooted in the seat two rows ahead of him. And unfortunately, no amount of distraction can change that.

The sprawling mountain lodge looms ahead, its rustic charm blending seamlessly with the dark green peaks in the distance. You tug your suitcase behind you, the wheels skidding slightly on the cobblestone path leading into the cozy yet grand lobby.

The warm scent of cedarwood and faint spices greets you as you step inside, though it does little to ease the exhaustion weighing on your shoulders.

You sigh, rubbing your neck while Hoseok approaches the reception desk to sort out room assignments. Your gaze roams the space, marveling at the high ceilings adorned with wooden beams and the crackling fire in the massive stone fireplace. A few coworkers are scattered about, chatting in groups or eagerly collecting their keys.

At least everyone gets their own cabin for the retreat, a luxury you hadn’t expected. The thought brings a small sense of relief since you don’t have to worry about sharing space with anyone. You glance at Hoseok, who’s still sorting through paperwork with the receptionist, and shift your weight impatiently.

Suddenly, someone brushes past you, the sharp bump to your shoulder jolting you slightly off balance. You gasp, turning quickly, ready to unleash a tirade, only to freeze when you see who it is.

Jungkook. Of course.

His bag strap hangs loosely off one shoulder, his free hand gripping the handle of his sleek black suitcase. He doesn’t even look at you at first, his gaze fixed ahead, but the unmistakable smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s done. “Watch where you’re going, jerk.” you snap, glaring at him as you adjust your stance.

Finally, he turns to face you, one brow raised in mock amusement. His dark eyes glint mischievously as he takes a step closer, shrinking the space between you. “Me? Watch where I’m going?” he asks, his voice smooth but laced with condescension. “You’re the one standing in the middle of the way, completely zoned out.” he argues.

Your eyes narrow. “Excuse me for existing.” you bite back, crossing your arms. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy stomping around like you own the place, you wouldn’t go around slamming into people.” you add.

Jungkook chuckles, the sound low and irritatingly melodic. “Stomping? Dramatic much?” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel personal. “And for the record, if you can’t handle a little nudge, maybe you should stick to your cozy desk back at the office.” he chuckles.

Your glare sharpens, heat rising to your cheeks. “At least I don’t go out of my way to antagonize people every chance I get.” you retort, your tone matching his for intensity. He shrugs, feigning innocence. “Antagonize? That’s a big word for someone so easily rattled.” he grins.

You’re about to respond, the words teetering on the edge of your tongue, when Hoseok's voice cuts through the tension. “Uh, hey.” he says awkwardly, stepping between the two of you with an uncertain smile as he holds out your keycard. “Here’s your key. Sorry for the wait.” he says.

Jungkook steps back, his smirk faltering slightly as his gaze flickers briefly to Hoseok, then back to you. “Thanks, Hobi.” you say, your voice a little too tight as you grab the keycard from his outstretched hand.

He ignores the little pang in his chest and his smirk returns, adjusting his suitcase with an almost lazy confidence. “Enjoy your cabin, princess.” he quips, his tone laced with sarcasm and just enough smugness to make your blood boil. Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and strides off towards the cabins, his retreating figure exuding infuriating nonchalance.

You glare at his back, gripping your keycard so tightly it threatens to snap. “Ugh, I hate him.” you mutter under your breath, your frustration spilling out in a huff.

Hoseok, who’s been quietly observing the exchange, lets out a soft chuckle. “You sure about that?” he teases lightly, reaching down to grab your suitcase. “He seems to get under your skin pretty easily.” he says.

You narrow your eyes at him but don’t bother responding, knowing Hoseok’s teasing will only get worse if you try to deny it. Instead, you let out a long sigh, forcing yourself to focus on the warm, inviting surroundings of the lodge instead of Jungkook’s maddening smirk.

The sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving the mountain lodge bathed in a soft, dusky glow. The campfire in the center of the lawn crackles gently, sending sparks into the chilly night air.

Since it's the first night of the retreat, everyone is gathered around, wrapped in cozy sweaters and thick blankets, their laughter and conversation blending with the soothing sounds of the wilderness as they all try to free the tiredness from the journey.

You hug yourself tightly, relishing the warmth of your oversized sweater as you make your way towards the group. The flickering firelight dances across familiar faces, and your eyes briefly catch on Jungkook, seated off to the side, his attention fixed on his phone. His sharp profile is illuminated by the glow of the screen, but you quickly brush your gaze away, deciding to ignore him entirely.

Your eyes land on Hoseok, who waves you over with an easy smile and you instantly slip into the seat beside him. “Hey.” he greets warmly, his voice soft but welcoming over the crackle of the fire.

You smile back as you settle into the chair, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. “The bathrooms here are insane.” you say, your tone full of genuine awe. “I had the best shower ever. It felt like I was in a spa.”

Hoseok's smile never falters, as the two of slip into an easy conversation. His warm laughter and encouraging nods draw you in, and eventually, the campfire becomes a hub of chatter as everyone around takes turns to share random stories.

The crackling of the fire accompanies the easy flow of conversation, casting a cozy glow that makes the group feel like an extended family.

Suho begins, leaning forward with excitement as he recounts how he met his girlfriend at a concert. "I swear, it was like fate." he breathes out, grinning. "I dropped my ticket, and she picked it up. I thought I’d just thank her, but then we ended up talking the entire show." His story gets a round of amused chuckles and giggles.

Mr. Park dives into tales about his grandchildren. "These kids..." he says, shaking his head fondly. "They're way too smart for their own good. Last week, my grandson hacked into my phone to change my ringtone to a dog barking.... at the grocery store." The image sends everyone into peals of laughter.

Ryunjin jumps in next, sharing her cat’s latest antics. "He’s obsessed with his tail." she says, gesturing wildly. "But the problem is, every time he catches it, he gets mad, like he’s offended it’s attached to his body." Her exaggerated impressions of her cat has everyone laughing until their sides hurt.

As people continue talking, from his spot on the other side of the fire, Jungkook sits quietly. He barely pays attention to what his coworkers are saying because his gaze keeps flickering to you and Hoseok. He watches the way your face lights up when you laugh, the way you lean towards Hoseok to whisper something into his ear.

The sight twists something uncomfortably tight in Jungkook’s chest, though he stubbornly pushes the feeling aside. Why do I even care? he thinks, his jaw clenching slightly as he forces his attention back to whatever some random coworker is saying.

Yet, no matter how much he tells himself to look away, his eyes betray him. They keep drifting back to you, catching every smile, every laugh, every shared glance with Hoseok. A faint scowl forms on his face, though he tries to mask it.

As the night wears on, it's your turn to narrate a story as you explain a random incident about a hike you went on, way back in high school. "We were climbing this trail that was way steeper than the brochure let on." you say, gesturing animatedly. "And then my friend thought it’d be a great idea to race to the top. Long story short, we all ended up face-planting in the dirt halfway up."

The group laughs, but before you can continue, Mrs. Lee interjects, her voice cutting through the firelit circle like clockwork. “Y/N, dear...” she says with a conspiratorial grin. “All this talk about hikes makes me wonder… are you planning on taking someone special on one anytime soon?” she wiggles her eyebrows.

You freeze for a moment, the question hanging in the air. Hoseok stifles a chuckle beside you, leaning closer. “Here we go again.” he whispers.

Everyone’s attention turns to you, their curious eyes waiting for your response. You hate being the center of attention in conversations like this, but you manage to muster a polite smile. “I think I’ll be hiking solo for a while, Mrs. Lee.” you reply lightly, hoping to deflect her matchmaking attempts.

But before the conversation can move on, Minhyuk, a coworker from another team... notorious for his unwelcome advances and unwanted flirtatious attempts to pursue you, jumps in.

“Why solo when I’m right here?” he says, his grin annoyingly smug as he leans forward on his seat. “Y/N, you don’t need blind dates or solo adventures when you’ve got someone like me.” he smirks.

The group chuckles, though the reactions are a mix of genuine amusement and secondhand embarrassment. You glance at him, trying to suppress an eye-roll. “Thanks, Minhyuk.” you say, your voice tinged with forced politeness. “But I think I’m good.”

Hoseok smirks beside you. “Wow, that’s… subtle.” he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear. The tension starts to build, the awkwardness settling in like an unwanted guest, but before anyone else can say anything, another voice cuts through the conversation, deep and commanding.

“She doesn’t need you, Minhyuk.” Jungkook suddenly says from across the fire. His tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it that makes everyone sit up a little straighter. His gaze locks on Minhyuk, his expression unreadable. “Y/N’s already dating someone.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Heads swivel towards Jungkook, then towards you, expressions ranging from amused to utterly shocked. You blink at him, your brain scrambling to process what he just said. You’re dating someone? And you didn’t even know?

A mix of confusion and frustration floods your thoughts as you watch Jungkook from your seat, utterly bewildered. What the hell is he trying to pull?

Mrs. Lee, of course, is the first to recover. She clasps her hands together, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement. “Oh, my! Y/N, is this... is this true? So you won’t be hiking solo after all?” she teases, her tone light, but the curiosity in her gaze is anything but subtle.

Her words snap you out of your daze, and your first instinct is to deny it, to clear up the misunderstanding before things spiral even further. But as your lips part, Jungkook speaks again, his voice calm and steady.

“That’s right.” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smirk. “She’s all set. No blind dates, no solo hikes. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You whip your head towards him, your confusion now tinged with annoyance. His expression is maddeningly composed, as if this is all part of some elaborate plan you’re not privy to. He meets your gaze, and for a fleeting second, you catch a glimmer of something... something almost possessive, before it disappears behind his confident facade.

Hoseok shifts beside you, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Well...” he says under his breath. “This just got interesting.”

You glare at him briefly before turning back to Jungkook, your brain working overtime to decide whether to play along or call him out. All around you, the group buzzes with low murmurs and playful remarks, the campfire’s warm glow doing little to soothe the sudden heat rising to your cheeks.

"Who's the lucky guy?" Suho laughs, his tone light, as a few others nod eagerly, their curiosity piqued. All eyes are on you now, and you’re suddenly aware of how small your seat feels in the circle. You open your mouth to speak, to deny the entire thing and set the record straight, but Jungkook beats you to it. Again.

“I really didn’t expect the news to come out like this.” he says smoothly, his voice calm but carrying just enough emotion to sound sincere. His gaze sweeps over the group before landing back on you. “But we’ve been keeping it quiet for a while now.”

The reaction is immediate. A collective murmur ripples through the circle, voices tinged with shock and curiosity. Some are louder than others, people audibly gasping unable to hide the utter shock of this unexpected news.

You blink rapidly, your brain doing cartwheels trying to keep up with what’s happening. Quiet for a while? What is he even talking about? Your confusion turns to frustration, and you turn to Jungkook, but he’s already leaning back in his seat, wearing an expression so convincingly nonchalant that it makes your blood boil.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Minhyuk’s voice cuts through the murmurs, his tone laced with disbelief and annoyance. “Are you telling me Y/N’s been dating you this whole time?” He gestures vaguely towards Jungkook, his irritation barely concealed.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Jungkook replies, his voice steady and unbothered, as though the entire conversation is beneath him. He leans back casually, his hand resting on the arm of his chair, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why does that sound so surprising?”

The group collectively reacts, their wide-eyed expressions bouncing between disbelief and shock. And honestly? Fair, because who would believe it. The only form of interaction anyone’s ever witnessed between the two of you has been laced with sharp rivalry, sarcastic comments and deathly glares.

“The joke’s on us.” Mr. Cho interjects suddenly, his tone tinged with playful regret. “We’re the idiots for thinking they hated each other. All this time, these two lovebirds were up to something totally different.” he says as everyone agrees with him.

Your lips part, indignation rushing to the surface as you shake your head. “It’s not what it looks—”

“We just didn’t want to get caught.” Jungkook cuts in smoothly, completely ignoring your protest. His tone is measured, almost too casual, as if he’s rehearsed this. He glances at the group, offering a shrug. “It would’ve made things awkward, you know?”

To your complete and utter disbelief, the crowd buys it. They actually believe the crap he's saying. Heads nod in understanding, murmurs of agreement ripple around the fire. It’s the most ridiculous explanation you’ve ever heard, and yet they’re accepting it like it's the most normal thing ever.

Your scowl deepens as you glare at Jungkook, who doesn’t so much as glance your way. Instead, he’s perfectly composed, acting like this is all just another day in his life. Meanwhile, you’re left fuming, the crowd’s reactions only stoking your frustration.

“If everyone will excuse me... I need to have a word with my... boyfriend.” you finally manage to say, your voice laced with barely concealed irritation. The last word comes out sharper than you intend, carrying just enough edge to earn a chorus of hoots and teasing laughter from the group.

“Ohhh, someone’s in trouble!” Suho calls, while Mrs. Lee clasps her hands over her heart as if this is the most romantic thing she’s ever seen. You can feel the amused gazes burning into your back, but you refuse to look at anyone.

The crowd’s reactions only fuel your annoyance. You rise from your chair, your movements brisk. Jungkook barely has time to react as you stride over to him. Before he can say a single word, you grab his arm and tug him out of his chair with more force than necessary.

Without sparing him a glance, you drag him away from the fire, ignoring the whistles and giggles echoing behind you. Someone, probably Ryunjin, makes a half-joking comment about you two sneaking off to "make up" or something equally ridiculous, but you’re too annoyed to care.

The moment you’re far enough from the group, heading towards the cabins, you whirl around to face Jungkook, still gripping his arm. “What the hell was that?” you shriek, your voice seething with anger. "WE are dating? Really?"

Jungkook chuckles softly, his fingers gently prying your hands from his arm. “Relax, princess.” he says, his voice calm yet dripping with smugness. “I only said that to help you out.”

“Help me out?” you echo, stepping back dramatically with your arms crossed, your face twisting into mock surprise. “Wow, Jungkook, what a saint. Should I start kissing the ground you walk on now, or later?”

He smirks, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “That ass Minhyuk was clearly making you uncomfortable. I figured I’d step in before he turned the bonfire into his personal Y/N fan club.” he shrugs.

You open your mouth to retort but pause, your brows furrowing slightly. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong about Minhyuk being a creep, but still you let out an exasperated groan, your arms flailing. “Oh, please. I could’ve handled him just fine without your big rescue act.”

“Right.” he drawls, leaning lazily against the cabin wall, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Because your plan of glaring daggers at him and clenching your fists was totally working. I mean, nothing screams ‘back off’ like the homicidal vibe you were giving off.”

You glare at him, your lips pressed into a thin line. “And what makes you think I couldn’t have handled it? I literally told him I was good and that I didn't need him.”

“Oh, you did.” he agrees, a playful spark in his eyes. “But then you’d have Mrs. Lee trying to ‘mediate’ or whatever by trying to set you up on another one of her infamous blind dates. Admit it, I just saved you from weeks of awkwardness.”

You blink at him, caught off guard by how easily he brought Mrs. Lee into this. “Wait, so this whole ‘fake boyfriend’ thing was just to dodge her matchmaking?” you question. “Well, partly.” he shrugs, tilting his head like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Figured you’d rather deal with me than spend another evening making small talk with some random accountant she thinks is your ‘perfect match.’ You’re welcome.” he grins.

You let out a scoff, crossing your arms again. “Oh, I see. So now you’re my knight in shining armor?” you arch a brow at him. “Finally, you get it.” His smirk grows.

“Shut up.” you snap, unable to stop the look of irritation on your face. “And for the record, I’d much rather deal with Mrs. Lee than this.” you add, gesturing the space between you.

“Really?” His voice takes on a teasing tone, and he steps closer, his gaze locking with yours. You try to ignore the way your heart is hammering in your chest and continue glaring into his eyes. “Then why are you so rattled, huh? Afraid you’ll actually fall for me or something?” he narrows his eyes, his smirk only growing.

You scoff, heat rising to your cheeks, but you refuse to let him see you falter. “Fall for you? In your dreams.” you bite back. “Ouch.” he says, clutching his chest dramatically like you’ve shot an arrow straight through his heart. “And here I thought you’d be grateful. This is how you repay me?”

“Grateful?” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Jungkook, I don’t think you understand. You just lied to everyone we know and made it sound like we’re madly in love or something.”

“Well…” His grin widens, that playful glint in his eyes sparking something unwelcome in your chest. “It’s not that hard to believe, is it?”

Your jaw drops, and you glare at him, incredulous. “Fuck, there's nothing like you... you are literally unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming.” he quips without missing a beat, his smirk downright infuriating now. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.” He nods as if he’s doing you a massive favor. “Fake boyfriend?” you echo, your voice an octave higher as your frustration bubbles over.

“Do you even hear yourself? Do you understand the gravity of the situation here? Everyone’s going to expect us to get along now. They’re going to expect us to act like a real couple. And with the way we are, they’ll figure out this isn’t real before this trip is even over. Do you realize how humiliating that will be?”

You wave your hands around animatedly as you ramble, the words spilling out in a frantic rush. Jungkook watches you with a maddeningly calm expression, arms crossed over his chest like he’s enjoying the show.

He chuckles again, that infuriatingly relaxed sound that makes you want to pull your hair out. “Oh, come on, Y/n. It’s not that bad. You get to hang out with me, look like the perfect couple, and keep Mrs. Lee and Minhyuk off your back. Sounds like a solid win for you.” he says with that signature cocky grin.

You scoff. "This is ridiculou—"

“And yet...” he interrupts smoothly. “You didn't deny it out there... in front of everyone. Makes me wonder if there’s a tiny part of you that doesn’t mind the idea.”

You open your mouth to retort, but no words come out. The sheer audacity of his statement has stolen your breath. He leans in slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “See?” he murmurs, his voice soft but teasing. “Speechless. I must be onto something.”

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to steady yourself. “You know what, I don’t even care anymore. You're responsible for this mess, so you deal with it.” you mutter, taking a deep breath to try and calm the storm brewing inside you. “I just want to enjoy this whole retreat in peace.”

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening just a fraction before he shrugs, as if this entire exchange is just a game. “Fine, fine. Peace it is. But you know...” he adds, his voice teasing but with a hint of something genuine, “It wouldn't hurt to enjoy it a little more with me. You know, since I’m your fake boyfriend and all.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way his words send an unexpected flutter through you. “Don’t push it, Jeon.” you mutter, though the corner of your mouth twitches slightly, betraying the tiniest bit of amusement. You turn on your heel, ready to walk away from this conversation.

“Alright, alright.” he relents with a dramatic sigh, from behind you. “But remember, when you find yourself accidentally falling for me, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” he quips, quickly walking past you. You grumble to yourself as you watch him walk away, approaching the lawn where everyone's seated.

You have no idea what this retreat has in store for you, especially after the insane turn of events on just the first night. Jungkook, of all people, is supposed to be your fake boyfriend in the prying eyes of your coworkers. You're still processing the fact that you’re stuck with this ridiculous situation, and you have no idea how you're going to pull it off.

But, as much as you hate to admit it, there's a tiny part of you that feels... surprisingly... grateful. Grateful that, for once, you don’t have to deal with creeps like Minhyuk or relentless matchmakers like Mrs. Lee.

Sure, dealing with Jungkook might be a headache, but at least he's got this whole "fake boyfriend" thing down, and for the moment, he’s temporarily keeping the pressure off you. You can't help but feel a little bit of relief knowing you won’t have to dodge constant questions about your non-existent love life this entire trip.

And something about this new dynamic, has you questioning everything between the two of you.

Finally, the retreat kicks off the next morning, and the first activity is an early morning hike. The air is crisp and the excitement buzzes in the atmosphere. To make things more interesting, everyone's decided to pair up and whichever team is the first to reach the top, wins a medal and a small trophy.

As you stand at the base, fidgeting with your water bottle, you can’t help but wonder what kind of chaos this day might bring, especially considering the mess you’ve gotten yourself into with Jungkook.

You’re eagerly waiting for Hoseok to arrive, fully prepared to be his hiking partner, when suddenly you hear a voice behind you.

"Waiting for me?" Jungkook’s voice is laced with that familiar smugness, and when you turn, you see him leaning casually against a tree near you, his arms crossed. His signature smirk is in place, as if he knows something you don’t.

You roll your eyes, already feeling the irritation creeping in. "Please, I’m waiting for Hobi." you reply dismissively, trying to avoid his gaze.

Jungkook's heart twists at your words, but he hides it behind a playful mask. "Wouldn't it be weird if you're pairing up with someone other than your... boyfriend?" he says, his voice lowering slightly as he leans in closer. His words hang in the air, and you feel a strange hesitation ripple through you.

You freeze for a moment, realizing the truth in his statement. It would be weird especially considering, the weird situation he had put the both of you in last night.

After yesterday, the idea of pairing up with anyone else, especially with the whole team now thinking you and Jungkook are some love-struck couple, would look suspicious. And if you really want to make this whole fake boyfriend thing work, you’re going to have to keep up the act... at least for the sake of saving face.

Your mind races, weighing your options, but when you glance over at the others, you see the curious glances, the whispers starting to form, and you know you can’t back out now. With a reluctant sigh, you turn back to Jungkook.

"Fine." you say, rolling your eyes for effect, though a small part of you is resigned. "But don't get any weird ideas. This is just for the hike."

Jungkook’s grin widens, and his eyes gleam with that mischievous glint. "Of course, princess. No weird ideas." he teases, but the way he looks at you suggests there’s more to this than just the hike.

As you both walk towards the trail, the weight of the situation hits you. This is it, you're officially stuck with him for the duration of this retreat, whether you like it or not. But as you glance at Jungkook, his confident strides beside you, you realize there might be more to this pairing than just avoiding humiliation.

You quickly shake off any lingering thoughts and turn your focus to the hike ahead. The trail is steep, rocky, and not exactly beginner-friendly, but you’re determined to stay ahead of the pack. Each step is carefully calculated, your legs pushing through the exhaustion as you navigate the uneven terrain.

Jungkook, walking beside you, watches with an almost bemused expression. He notices the fierce concentration on your face, the way your brows furrow ever so slightly as you push yourself harder with each step. You’re not one to give up easily, and it’s kind of impressive.

"You really are something, huh?" he teases, his voice cutting through the wind. "Who knew you'd be so competitive." he asks, like he already doesn't know that about you, considering the heavy competition that always takes place between the two of you back at the office.

You glance at him, rolling your eyes. "I’m not competitive." you huff, focusing on your footing. "I just don’t want to lose, especially to people who think they can beat us."

Jungkook chuckles, but his eyes are still focused on you. “Uh-huh. Sure.” His tone is playful, but there's something a little softer in his gaze as he watches you stride forward, determined and focused.

With each step, your legs begin to burn, but you push through it. The air grows thinner as you make your way up the mountain, and soon, you notice that you and Jungkook have managed to pull ahead of the rest of the group. At some point, it’s just the two of you... no one else even in sight. You can’t help but feel a tiny surge of pride.

Jungkook, though, seems to be taking it all in stride, effortlessly keeping pace with you. “Looks like we’re in the lead.” he says with a grin, clearly enjoying the challenge.

Just as you’re about to reply, the trail gets more rugged. The rocks beneath your feet become looser, the path steeper, and suddenly, you lose your balance. Before you can even react, Jungkook reaches out, steadying you by grabbing your hand.

“Easy there, princess.” he teases, his fingers curling around yours with a casual yet firm grip, as though it’s second nature to him.

You try to ignore the warmth of his hand against yours, but the sensation lingers, a pulse of heat running up your arm. His hand fits perfectly with yours, and for a second, you forget about everything... about the hike, the competition, even the ridiculousness of the situation.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His expression is focused on the path ahead, but there’s a subtle glint in his eyes, something mischievous. He knows how much his touch is affecting you, and you know he’s enjoying it a little too much.

You’re so distracted by everything... his touch, the heat flooding your chest, the odd fluttering in your stomach... that you don’t even see the giant twig lying across the trail until it’s too late. One moment you’re walking, and the next, your foot catches it, sending you sprawling forward. You yelp as your knee slams into the rough ground, the pain sharp and immediate.

Jungkook is quick to react, his hand shooting out to steady you before you can fall further. “Shit!” he exclaims, his voice full of concern. He crouches beside you as you wince, glancing at your scraped knee. Blood begins to seep from the wound, the large scratch standing out against your skin, especially since you’re wearing a pair of biker shorts.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice more worried than you expected. He quickly helps you sit on a nearby rock, crouching in front of you. His eyes flicker to your knee, concern creasing his brows as he inspects the wound. “This is bad.” he murmurs, his tone low as he gently touches your calf to get a better look at the injury.

You feel the warmth of his fingers on your skin, and despite the pain in your knee, something inside you jolts at the tenderness of his touch. Your heart skips a beat, and you have to force yourself to look away.

His fingers are still holding your leg, and the proximity of his body makes everything seem so much more intense than it should be. The sensation of his hand on your calf feels too intimate, too personal, and it makes your pulse race in a way that leaves you breathless.

You shift uncomfortably, trying to pull your leg back a little, though it’s hard to concentrate with him so close. “I’m fine.” you try to brush him off, your voice almost shaky as you speak. “It’s just a scratch.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. His eyes remain fixed on the cut, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighs and looks up at you. “You sure about that?” he asks, his voice soft but filled with a quiet seriousness. “Because that looks pretty nasty to me.”

You shift again, trying to ignore the way his hand feels on your skin. “I said I’m fine.” you insist, though your voice lacks the usual conviction. The warmth of his hand on your leg is making it hard to focus on anything else.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, as if assessing whether to argue or just let it go. Finally, he pulls his hand away, and you breathe a little easier, though the air between you still feels weird.

Jungkook stands up straight, his gaze fixed on you for a moment longer than necessary. The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and a tension that neither of you seem to know how to break. He looks down at your knee again, his eyes softening with concern, but he doesn’t say anything.

He somehow hates seeing you hurt, and something about it bothers him more than he’d like to admit. But he doesn’t know how to express that without sounding too… weird. So, he stays silent, unsure of how to bridge the gap between his thoughts and actions.

You shift uncomfortably, feeling his eyes on you. Your own gaze flickers between him and the ground, avoiding his stare, unsure of what to say next. You both seem so caught in this strange limbo that the sudden sound of footsteps snapping you both out of your trance is almost a relief.

You both turn at the same time, just in time to see Ryunjin and Suho dart past you, laughing and shouting with reckless energy. "Later, losers!" they yell, their voices teasing as they zoom past, not even sparing a glance at you or Jungkook.

Before either of you can react, they’re already a good distance ahead, their teasing echoes fading into the distance. The moment feels absurd, and yet somehow, it breaks the tension that had been hanging between you and Jungkook. You both stay there for a second, staring after the rapidly disappearing pair, trying to process what just happened.

Jungkook lets out a dry laugh, breaking the quiet. “Well, that was... something.” he says. You can't help but chuckle too, the absurdity of it all making you shake your head. "Yeah, something." you reply, your voice light despite the situation.

Jungkook glances at you, a small, almost self-conscious grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Guess we better catch up, huh? Wouldn’t want to lose to them."

Without missing a beat, you push yourself to your feet, ignoring the burning sensation in your knee as if it’s nothing. The adrenaline of the competition quickly wipes away any lingering pain. You’re determined now, not just to make it to the top, but to beat Ryunjin and Suho.

You and Jungkook exchange a brief look, and without saying another word, you both grab each other’s hands and break into a run. The path ahead is rocky, but you’re not paying attention to anything other than the prize... victory. The cold mountain air fills your lungs as your feet pound against the uneven ground, each step propelling you forward.

Jungkook keeps his pace beside you, the sound of his breath in sync with yours as you both push yourselves harder. He offers a teasing grin now and then, his usual cocky demeanor back in full force, but you know he’s just as focused as you are on overtaking the pair ahead.

The climb becomes more intense, the sharp incline testing your endurance, but your legs keep moving. You’re so close to the top now, your eyes on Suho and Ryunjin, who are just a few feet ahead. Your heart races, not just from the physical exertion, but from the competitive energy that’s coursing between you and Jungkook.

For a split second, you almost think you’re going to overtake them. You push yourself harder, your hand gripping Jungkook’s tighter, your determination burning stronger than ever. But just as you reach the final stretch, you see Suho and Ryunjin cross the summit.

“No way !!” you groan, stopping just short of the top. Jungkook slows down next to you, panting, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the victorious pair. “They beat us just by a few seconds.” he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration. But as he turns to look at you, the playful glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Close, though. We almost had them.” he says.

You stand there for a moment, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, and then glance at him. “Yeah, well. Almost doesn’t count, does it?” you tease, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

Jungkook’s lips twitch upward, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something you can’t quite place. “Guess not.” he replies, but then his gaze softens, just a touch. “But we’ll definitely get them next time.”

The way he says next time... with such ease, almost like a promise, sends a strange feeling through you. It doesn’t sound like just another competition or a simple throwaway line. No, it’s more like a subtle invitation, an unspoken acknowledgment that this could be something to look forward to.

It’s not just the words themselves, but the way he says it, like there will be another chance for the two of you, paired together again, side by side. Like it’s not a one time thing, but the beginning of something that feels more… natural.

You swallow the sudden flutter in your chest, trying to focus on something else... something to push away the warmth spreading in your cheeks. It’s just a hike, just a little competition, you tell yourself, but the thought lingers.

Maybe it’s the rush of the moment, the adrenaline, or maybe it’s something about the way Jungkook looks at you now. Whatever it is, you can’t quite shake the feeling that next time won’t just be about winning.

“Yeah, next time.” you echo, your voice softer now, as if you’re both saying more than just the words.

Hoseok lounges casually on your bed, his head propped up on one arm as he watches you through the mirror as you do your skin care. "Guess you had fun on that hike, huh?" he says, a teasing glint in his eyes as he observes your focused movements.

You roll your eyes, not bothering to respond immediately. The sheet mask on your face makes it difficult to show any expression, but you can't hide the subtle irritation bubbling under the surface. Hoseok, ever the observant one, takes note of your silence and grins to himself, enjoying your discomfort in a way only he could.

“But actually though, how long are you two planning on keeping up this whole fake relationship thing?” he asks, with a casual tilt of his head. His voice is playful, but there's an undertone of genuine curiosity, as if he's waiting for some kind of confession.

You pause, your fingers freezing on the edges of the mask as his words sink in. The question lingers in the air, heavier than it first appeared. You let out a long, exasperated sigh, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. "I honestly don't know." you admit, the frustration evident in your tone. "This whole thing... it’s just such a ridiculous situation to be in. I didn’t even sign up for this, Hobi."

Your shoulders slump slightly as you drop your gaze, feeling the weight of the words you’ve just said. There’s no denying the absurdity of the situation, but even more unsettling is how easily you’ve been feeling ever since that hike got over.

"Honestly..." Hoseok starts, his voice tapering off, a hint of hesitance in his tone. "I just think... he might like you." he says. You snap your head towards him so fast that he bursts into laughter, pointing at your face. "Oh my god, the look! And with that sheet mask? Iconic." He doubles over, clutching his stomach.

"Please." You wave him off, narrowing your eyes even as you feel your cheeks heat beneath the mask. "That can’t be true." you deny, shaking your head, though his words settle in your chest like a pebble dropped into water, rippling outwards.

Hoseok leans forward, his laughter fading into a soft, knowing smile. “Think about it, Y/N.” He swings his legs off the bed and sits up straighter, his expression suddenly more serious. "Why would he randomly step in to ‘save’ you from Minhyuk and Mrs. Lee when none of it has anything to do with him? What’s he getting out of this whole... fake relationship?"

You open your mouth to argue but nothing comes out. His words sit heavy in the room, pressing against thoughts you’ve tried to avoid all day. Hoseok watches you intently, sensing your hesitation but giving you the space to think.

“I mean, according to me...” he continues, his voice steady but gentle. “The only thing he’s gaining... is your company. The opportunity to be around you, to talk to you, to..." He hesitates for a beat, then finishes with a meaningful look. "To get closer to you."

His words hang in the air, a truth you’re not sure you’re ready to face. Your fingers hover over your mask as you stare back at him, caught somewhere between disbelief and the slow, creeping realization that maybe... just maybe, he’s right.

Jungkook slips out of the shower, the warmth of the water still clinging to his skin as he slides into a pair of comfortable pajamas. The exhaustion of the long day settles in, and he collapses onto the bed with a soft sigh.

The cabin feels quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning, and as he stares up at the ceiling, his eyes blink slowly, each blink heavier than the last.

His thoughts begin to wander, as they often do, drifting towards you. He isn’t sure why, but lately, you seem to occupy a bigger space in his mind than he’d like to admit. He wonders what exactly he’s gotten himself into. The whole fake relationship thing, the way it all started... none of it makes sense to him.

But then he remembers the moment it all fell into place. The ridiculousness of it. The heat rising in him when he saw Minhyuk talking to you that way, too comfortable in his space, too persistent with his flirtations.

He didn’t plan to say anything in front of everyone, but something about the whole interaction made him snap. He blurted out the claim about you two dating, and even now, he’s not sure where it came from. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it probably wasn’t just about Minhyuk.

He thinks about the hike today. The way you worked together, the coordination, the unspoken understanding between you both as you made your way up the mountain. The way his stomach churned at the sight of you hurt. The way your hands brushed, then clasped. How your palm felt against his, soft and warm, so natural.

He tries to shake the memory, but it lingers, like the lingering heat of the sun on his skin after a long day. He had to act like it didn’t faze him, like the moment didn’t make his heart race a little faster, but in reality, it was the opposite. His whole body had reacted to the touch, to the proximity.

He lets out a soft groan and rolls over, burying his face in the pillow, willing the thoughts to go away. It’s just a fake relationship, right? So why does it feel like there’s so much more to it than that?

The second day of the retreat arrives with a buzz of excitement, and as everyone gathers in the main hall, Mr. Cho announces the day's event which is supposed to be a Photo Scavenger Hunt. It's another pair activity, and you know exactly who your partner will be. Refusing to team up with your fake boyfriend, Jungkook, would raise too many suspicions and be undeniably awkward.

Pairs are handed a checklist of photo prompts, each designed to challenge creativity and, more importantly, sell the illusion of a couple deeply in love. Age, gender, or real dynamics don’t matter, the goal is clear... convince the world you’re head over heels.

Jungkook snatches the prompt list before you can, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement.

“This is going to be so fun.” he declares, scanning the list. You fold your arms, a skeptical frown settling on your face. “I hate taking pictures.” you admit. “And we have to look like a couple deeply in love? How the hell are we supposed to pull that off?”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t be a baby about it. Let’s show these amateurs what a real couple looks like.” The irony of his statement doesn’t escape you. Pretending to be a real couple while knowing everything between your current dynamic is fake feels like some cosmic joke. It tugs at your heart in a way you don’t want to analyze.

Instead, you shift your focus to the task at hand as Jungkook reads the first prompt aloud. “Take a photo of something adventurous.” he announces, his excitement palpable.

The prompt leads you both to the resort’s outdoor obstacle course, where a rope bridge sways precariously over a shallow creek. “This looks adventurous enough.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the bridge. You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re joking, right? There's no way... I’m setting foot on that thing.” you say shaking your head.

He steps onto the first plank, the bridge creaking under his weight. Turning to you, he extends a hand, his confidence unwavering. “Just trust me.” he grins. You hesitate, glancing at his outstretched hand. Something about the steady way he looks at you makes your heart skip. Against your better judgment, you take his hand and step onto the bridge.

The journey across is a chaotic mix of laughter and shrieks as the bridge sways with every movement. You’re freaking the hell out, but somehow, Jungkook’s firm grip on your hand keeps you grounded. His teasing comments, however, do nothing to help calm your nerves.

Suddenly, the bridge sways a little too much, and you yelp in panic, instinctively inching closer to him and wrapping your arms around his torso, holding on for dear life. You close your eyes, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

“Relax!!!” Jungkook laughs, his voice laced with amusement, finding your current state of distress incredibly adorable. “You’re holding onto me like I’m the bridge.”

You bury your face in his chest, the heat of his body overwhelming, and you feel your heart racing in your chest. His laugh sends a jolt through you, but you manage to focus on the safety of his embrace. “Because I don’t trust this death trap!” you snap back, clinging tighter to him. “Don’t you dare let go.”

“Chill, I got you.” he reassures you, but his voice is teasing. “You’re literally holding me. I can’t let go even if I wanted to.” The way his words send a thrill through you catches you off guard, but you can't focus on that now, you're too busy gripping him like a lifeline.

He laughs again, and you feel his arms shift slightly as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Are you seriously taking a picture now?” you ask incredulously. “Gotta capture the terror on your face.” he says, his grin widening. “Besides, you’re hugging me. That’s pretty romantic if you ask me.”

Before you can reply, he angles his phone to fit both of you in the frame, holding it out with a cocky smile before clicking the picture.

As you still tightly clutch onto him, you peek at the phone as he lowers it. You burst into laughter when you see the picture, a chaotic snapshot of your panicked face, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, eyes wide in shock, but with a hint of a smile hidden in the corners. It’s a mess, but somehow cute. “See?” he says with a playful grin. “Adventurous and adorable.”

You and Jungkook continue breezing through prompt after prompt, and to your surprise, you're both working together seamlessly. The tension from earlier has melted away, replaced by an ease you didn't expect.

His teasing jokes, the way he makes goofy comments behind the camera before snapping a picture... it’s all so endearing. And every time he makes you laugh, you feel those familiar butterflies flutter in your chest, something light and genuine that you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in a long time.

As you pose for yet another shot, your eyes meet his, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to disappear. You're not acting for a game anymore, not pretending for a prize. There's a softness between you now, a connection you hadn't realized you craved until you found it. You laugh, your eyes lighting up in a way that’s completely unguarded, and Jungkook can't help but watch you with a smile that matches your own.

He is somehow completely captivated by this version of you, the one without the sarcastic remarks, the biting humor, and the walls you usually keep up. The way you smile for the pictures, the way you compose yourself with such grace, it’s just too cute. The soft glow in your eyes when you’re not worried about anything, not keeping your distance, is something he’s never seen before. It feels so natural, so easy, and he loves it.

With every click of his camera, Jungkook is slowly realizing how much he enjoys seeing you like this... so at ease, so carefree. Even though the situation started as a fake relationship, he's surprised to find that it feels more real than he ever imagined. It feels... perfect.

There's no tension, no need for the sarcastic quips or the emotional distance you usually keep between you. Instead, it's just easy. He can simply be with you, in this moment, without any pretense. And the more he enjoys this connection, the more he wonders how long he can keep pretending that it isn’t something more.

For a brief moment, as he adjusts the camera, he catches you looking at him... a soft, knowing smile playing on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and for the first time in what feels like forever, his confidence falters. He quickly shakes off the feeling, focusing on the next shot, but the lingering warmth in his chest doesn’t go away. It’s there, quietly growing, and for a second, he wonders if maybe you can feel it too.

Soon enough, you reach the last prompt on the list. "Capture your partner with something beautiful." You read it aloud, and Jungkook's eyes light up like he’s found the perfect solution. He grabs your wrist, pulling you along with him, a determined glint in his eyes. “Follow me.” he says.

Without fully understanding where he’s leading you, you let him tug you along, and before long, you find yourself in the resort’s rose garden. You pause, taking in the breathtaking sight before you.

The garden is sprawling and lush, with rows of perfectly manicured bushes, each adorned with an array of vibrant roses in every imaginable colur… pale pinks, deep reds, and the most delicate whites.

The air is thick with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and butterflies flit from one blossom to the next, completing the serene picture. The sun casts a warm golden light, dappling the garden with soft shadows, making the whole place look like something out of a dream.

Jungkook releases your wrist, stepping back to admire you as you take in the surroundings. “How did you even find this place?” you ask, amused, turning to him with raised eyebrows.

He grins, clearly proud of himself. “I was just exploring early this morning.” he admits, brushing a hand through his hair. His gaze softens as he watches you, and it suddenly hits him... for the first time today, he doesn’t need to pose you, doesn’t need to direct you for a shot. Everything here feels perfect just the way it is. You, in this beautiful setting, naturally glowing and lost in the beauty of it all.

Without warning, Jungkook pulls out his phone and takes the first picture. And then another. And another. He’s capturing you... your expression, the way your eyes linger on the flowers, how the soft breeze plays with your hair. Each click feels more like he’s documenting something sacred, something delicate. You’re unaware of it at first, lost in the moment.

But as you turn, you notice him snapping away, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your own eyes widen in surprise. “Hey, you didn’t tell me you started clicking pictures!” you say, an involuntary pout forming on your lips.

Jungkook laughs, the sound deep and genuine. "It’s fine." he says, still grinning. "I got the perfect shots."

Your heart skips, your breath catching at the way he looks at you... like you’re the most beautiful thing in this whole garden, and the way his gaze lingers on you makes your chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. There's something so intimate in the way he sees you, something that makes you feel simultaneously vulnerable and cherished.

Now that all the prompts are done, you and Jungkook sit together on the lawn, reviewing the photos on his phone. The sun is beginning to set, casting a soft golden glow over the entire resort, and the air carries a calmness that makes the moment feel almost too perfect.

There’s a small laugh escaping your lips as you scroll past each photo, surprised at how natural you both look. The ones of you and him are the ones that stand out... your smiles feel real, and the carefree joy captured in each shot makes you wonder if, for a fleeting second, the line between pretending and reality might’ve blurred.

As your thumb scrolls past a particularly silly photo of him pulling a goofy face, your eyes linger on the images of yourself. There’s a softness to them... how your eyes shine, how your lips curve into a smile that isn’t forced. You can’t remember the last time you looked so... content.

Your gaze shifts to Jungkook in the rest of the photos, his relaxed posture, his playful grins, and the way he’s effortlessly good-looking in every frame.

But then, Jungkook stops you from scrolling, his finger gently pausing on one of the photos. Your heart stutters when you realize it’s a picture of you that he had taken in the rose garden, the soft wind lifting your hair, your eyes caught on a pink rose, lost in a moment of thought. T

he colors in the picture are so vivid... the soft pink of the rose, the delicate green leaves, and the way the light plays off the petals.

“This one.” Jungkook says quietly, his voice lower than usual. You glance at him, sensing a change in the air, an unspoken weight that hangs between you both. The way he says it almost sounds like a confession, but you’re unsure what it means.

You turn your attention back to the picture, your fingers unconsciously tightening around the phone as your heart begins to race. The photo seems so simple, yet there’s something undeniably intimate about it.

“This one’s my favorite.” he repeats, his eyes not leaving the screen, but you can feel his gaze shift to you, as if waiting for your reaction. The moment seems to stretch, and you swear the temperature of the air is now different.

You clear your throat, trying to steady yourself. “Uh... why?” you ask. Your voice feels small against the sudden heaviness of the moment, the question awkwardly leaving your lips. Your eyes drift to the picture again, but it’s hard to focus with the flutter in your chest.

Jungkook’s gaze softens, a quiet sincerity filling his eyes that makes your stomach do somersaults. “Because it’s... you.”

His words stay in the air, simple yet weighted, like a confession he hadn’t planned on making. And for the briefest moment, everything else falls away… the photos, the game, the fake relationship.

All you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you, the way he said it, as if it meant something deeper than just the photo. It feels like he’s seen something in you, something you haven’t even fully recognized in yourself.

You’re left speechless for a moment, unsure of how to respond. There’s a warmth spreading in your chest, a feeling that seems to fill every space between you and him, and for the first time, the reality of what’s happening between you two feels undeniable.

The third day of the retreat dawns with a calm, unstructured agenda, a welcome contrast to the competitive energy of the past two days. With nothing specific planned, you decide to spend your time with Hoseok, exploring the scenic surroundings and indulging in the retreat’s offerings.

By mid-afternoon, the two of you make your way to the spa for a personal massage. The atmosphere is serene, filled with the soft hum of calming music and the faint aroma of lavender.

As the tension melts away under the skilled hands of the masseuse, your thoughts wander, sifting through the events of the past few days. It’s a rare moment of clarity and introspection, and you allow yourself to simply breathe and reflect.

By the time you’re done, it’s nearly evening. You step out of the spa, still basking in the therapeutic aftereffects. Hoseok is waiting for you outside, leaning casually against a pillar, and his face lights up when he sees you stretching your neck with a satisfied sigh.

“That was amazing, wasn’t it?” he asks with a grin, and you hum in agreement, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. “Totally. I feel like a whole new person.” you reply, rolling your shoulders and relishing the weightlessness in your muscles.

Hoseok chuckles before his tone shifts slightly. “Anyway, I’m gonna go hang out with Suho and Mr. Cho for a bit if you don’t mind.” he says, his voice tinged with a trace of guilt. You shake your head immediately, offering him a reassuring smile. “Of course, Hobi. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just chill near the cabins or take a stroll. Go, have fun!”

His expression softens at your easygoing response. “You sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll see you later.” you say, giving him a small wave as he turns to leave. As you watch Hoseok walk away, a peculiar sense of contentment settles within you, something you can’t quite place but feel nonetheless. The day has unfolded in a way you didn’t anticipate, leaving you more at peace than you expected.

You make your way back to your cabin, eager to change into something more comfortable. Slipping into a soft, flowing dress that cascades gently against your legs, you find it strikes the perfect balance between relaxation and elegance.

Stepping out of your cabin, ready to roam aimlessly through the quiet grounds, you suddenly catch sight of Jungkook approaching from the opposite end of the corridor.

"Well, hello there, girlfriend." he teases, his voice laced with playful sarcasm as a mischievous wink follows. With measured confidence, he closes the distance between you, his smirk never faltering, leaving you to wonder if there's more behind his words than the usual banter.

You feel an involuntary tug at the corners of your mouth, but you quickly mask it by rolling your eyes. "Jeon." you greet him flatly as you close the door behind you. “You look lonely.” Jungkook teases, his tone soft.

You open your mouth to retort, but he beats you to it. “Wanna go for a walk?” His words come out almost too casually, but there’s a spark in his eyes, an invitation you can’t quite ignore.

As you glance around at your coworkers scattered about near by, you realize that declining might raise more suspicion than agreeing. It’s a harmless walk, nothing more, nothing less. And, perhaps you tell yourself, it could make the whole fake relationship thing a little more believable.

But a part of you thinks all these reasonings are just yet another reason to cover up what you're actually feeling. You hesitate for only a moment, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “Sure.” you answer.

The surprise in Jungkook’s eyes is fleeting, but it’s there... his brows lifting slightly at your unexpected compliance. He quickly masks it with a grin, but there’s something unspoken between you now, a shift in the air that neither of you acknowledges aloud. Without another word, he gestures for you to follow, and you do, your steps in sync as you head out into the cool evening.

As you walk side by side, the air between you feels strangely light, almost serene. Jungkook exhales softly, his voice breaking the silence as if testing the waters. "So, how was your day?" he asks, his tone gentle but curious.

"Good." you respond with a simple, soft smile, but you find yourself wanting to offer more, to bridge the gap between the two of you. "I got a massage at the spa. It was incredible." you add, your smile deepening as the memory lingers. The soothing sensation still radiates from your body, and the thought of it gives you a sense of peace.

Jungkook nods, taking in your words with quiet interest. His gaze briefly shifts to you, and something flickers in his eyes. The evening sun bathes your face in a warm, golden light, the soft rays catching in your hair, making it shimmer ever so slightly in the breeze.

For a second, Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, his thoughts scattered as a sudden, fleeting realization tugs at him. Have you always been this beautiful? But he quickly suppresses it, trying to act unaffected.

"I played badminton with a few of the guys." he says instead, his voice now carrying a touch of nonchalance, as if dismissing the fleeting moment. He averts his gaze, not quite able to look you in the eye for too long, especially when you're looking so breathtaking.

You hum softly, your attention still lingering on his words, though a small part of your mind is distracted by the strange tension that's begun to build. It’s a new, unfamiliar feeling... this conversation with him, so unexpectedly civil, so effortlessly simple, without the usual sharp edges that have always defined your interactions. It feels almost too easy.

As you walk beside him, your knuckles brush against his ever so lightly, a momentary touch that sends a ripple of electricity up your arm. You pause, your thoughts suddenly a jumble. Should I pull my hand away? you wonder. Should I cross my arms, keep a distance?

But before you can decide, Jungkook's hand finds yours. His fingers slip between yours with an ease that catches you off guard, as though it’s something he’s done a hundred times before.

For a split second, everything around you blurs, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you freeze. The warmth of his touch spreads through you like wildfire, an overwhelming wave of sensations that makes your pulse quicken.

Somehow, this is a million times more different compared to yesterday or the day before. You glance at him, your expression caught somewhere between confusion and something else you can't quite place.

But before you can even open your mouth to question him, Jungkook glances down at your joined hands, his voice a hushed murmur. "Mr. Park and Minhyuk are looking." he says, his words almost inaudible in the quiet evening, yet laden with a sudden urgency.

Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of the situation settling over you with sudden clarity. Of course, you think bitterly. It was all part of the act, a simple move to maintain the facade, to avoid suspicion. The thought feels like a cold rush, and you can’t quite understand why it makes your heart sink just a little.

As your mind swirls, Hoseok’s words from the day before yesterday echo in your head, the ones that made you question the dynamics of this entire charade.

Why is Jungkook even doing this? What is he even getting out of it? you wonder. His actions feel so carefully measured, so deliberate, but now, standing beside him, you can’t help but feel like there’s more to it than just playing along for appearances.

And then, as your thoughts tumble over each other, another question surfaces... one you can’t shake. Why is he worried about being caught? You glance at Jungkook, his face turned slightly away, eyes still focused on the path ahead, his hand still holding yours. He hasn’t loosened his grip, but there’s a tension in the way he holds on, as though it’s more than just a practical gesture.

The thought lingers, unanswered, hanging between you like a whispered secret. The more you try to push it away, the more the question claws at you, refusing to be ignored.

As much as you try to convince yourself that this is just a show, a performance, a simple arrangement between two people caught in an absurd situation, a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s more at play here... something deeper, more complicated, something neither of you are ready to face.

The next day arrives quickly, the sun shining brightly and casting a warm, golden glow over the retreat grounds. You find yourself standing in the doorway of the large kitchen, anticipation bubbling in your chest.

As you wait for the day’s activity to begin, your thoughts drift to Jungkook, and a soft smile graces your lips. The past three days with him have been unexpectedly delightful and you feel like your heart has been beating differently… and the desire to see him, to be near him is gradually increasing minute by minute.

Today, the schedule has a bake-off on the list, a lighthearted yet competitive event. But this time, to your surprise, there's a slight twist... you don’t get to choose your partner.

Instead, Mr. Cho will be picking out the names from a hat, ensuring that everyone interacts with someone new instead of just sticking with familiar faces. Jungkook already gets paired up with Hoseok and a part of you falters, sad that he won’t be your partner for this activity.

The anticipation in the room builds as Mr. Cho starts calling out the names. Your heart skips a beat when you hear your name being paired with none other than Min Yoongi.

Min Yoongi was a fellow coworker from another team and a part of you is thankful it’s him and not some random stranger. You’ve worked with him a few times before, and while you’ve always admired his quiet charm, today you’re both in for an unexpected challenge. Yoongi has always been sweet and approachable, his gummy smile and laid-back nature endearing to everyone around him.

As you walk over to your station, Yoongi stands beside you, looking a little uncertain. He glances at the array of ingredients and sighs. “I’ve never baked before.” he admits, his tone a mix of amusement and apprehension.

You can’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree. “Same here.” you say with a playful grin, turning to face him. “Guess we’re both in for an adventure today.” The words come easily, and something about the situation feels oddly comforting.

Meanwhile, a few counters away, Jungkook stands next to Hoseok. If he wasn’t already irritated by the fact that he was being paired with someone he absolutely cannot stand, considering how Hoseok being your close friend has always annoyed him, the sight of you working so easily with someone else... some other man... has his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

He clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing as you and Yoongi chat easily, the two of you laughing and navigating your baking station with light-hearted banter. Every glance in your direction feels like a reminder that things are not as simple as they should be.

Yoongi’s soft laugh cuts through his thoughts, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a pang of something he refuses to acknowledge. It’s like the universe is conspiring against him today, forcing him to witness you grow closer to someone else, and it makes him feel something he can’t quite place.

The tension in his chest tightens, but he pushes it down, trying to focus on his own station. He can’t let himself get distracted by this, even though the thought of you mingling with another man gnaws at him, just under the surface.

Ignoring the crushing weight in his chest, Jungkook forces himself to focus on the task at hand, settling into a rhythm with Hoseok. Surprisingly, Hoseok proves to be a cooperative partner, and they manage to work efficiently, though their conversations are sparse and purely functional.

Around them, the kitchen hums with energy... clattering bowls, bursts of laughter, and the sound of Mr. Cho’s voice as he strolls by to observe everyone’s progress.

Jungkook tries to keep his head down, but his resolve falters as his gaze drifts, almost involuntarily, to your station. You’re with Yoongi, and the sight is just undeniably painful. The two of you are laughing, the kind of laughter that feels unrestrained and easy, and Jungkook feels something bitter rise in his chest.

His eyes narrow as Yoongi leans closer to you, smirking as he says something that makes you giggle. Then Yoongi suddenly blows a puff of flour in your direction, his grin widening when you squeal and lift your hands in a futile attempt to block it. “Yoongi!” you exclaim, laughing as you swipe the powder off your cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” Yoongi replies smoothly, dusting off his hands with a wink.

Jungkook glares, his grip on the mixing bowl tightening. Look at this grown-ass man making a mess, he thinks bitterly. But he knows it’s not about the flour or the mess, it’s about the easy camaraderie between the two of you, the playful way Yoongi leans into your space as you try to whisk the cream.

“You know...” Yoongi drawls, leaning casually on the counter as you measure the sugar. “You’re pretty good at this. Maybe we should open a bakery together. I’ll be the charming face of the business, and you can do all the work.”

You snort, nudging him with your elbow. Yoongi has always been like this, with all the occasional comments and jokes. “Oh, so I do the heavy lifting while you stand around and smile? Sounds like a solid partnership.” you playfully roll your eyes.

“Exactly.” he replies with a mock-serious nod. Then his tone shifts, dipping into something playfully flirtatious. “Or, better yet, we could skip the bakery and just bake together... at my place.”

Your eyes widen slightly before you burst into laughter, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.” you say. “I’m practical.” Yoongi retorts with a shrug. “Besides, if you ever get tired of Jungkook, you know where to find me.” he jokes and even you know that he doesn't really mean that because you're somewhat used to his harmless, meaningless flirting.

As far as you've observed, he's like this with everyone, but the man standing a few counters behind you doesn't know that and his jaw tightens as he overhears the conversation.

He glares at Yoongi, his eyes narrowing into slits as his chest tightens uncomfortably. If she ever gets tired of me? Please. The laughter at your station contrasts sharply with the strained silence at his own, and Jungkook struggles to quell the sour taste in his mouth. He stirs the batter with unnecessary vigor, trying to block out the image of you with someone else.

“Are you trying to murder the batter?” Hoseok’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Jungkook blinks and realizes he’s been whisking too hard, the mixture splattered slightly around the edges. “Just... making sure it’s mixed properly.” he mutters, brushing off Hoseok’s raised brow.

Hoseok shakes his head, muttering something about misplaced aggression, but Jungkook doesn’t hear it. His eyes are already back on you, unable to look away even as it irritates him to no end.

“Oh, please.” you reply, rolling your eyes but grinning. “As if I’d ever pick you. You’d probably just make me do all the work anyway.” you say, passing him the bowl so that he can make sure the batter's smoothly mixed.

“Not true.” Yoongi says, feigning offense. “I’d let you taste-test everything too. See? Equal partnership.” he smiles. Your laughter rings out again, light and carefree, and Jungkook feels like he’s losing his mind. It’s not just the banter, or the way Yoongi’s grin stretches wide... it’s the way you respond to him, the way you look genuinely happy.

Eventually, the bake-off wraps up, and to everyone’s surprise, Mr. Park and another coworker, Wonho, win the contest. Their cake is a masterpiece, elegantly designed with intricate icing patterns that scream perfection.

You figure it’s mostly Wonho’s expertise in the decorative details, given his reputation for being particular about aesthetics. The room erupts into cheers and applause as they pose proudly with their winning cake.

You smile to yourself, genuinely happy for them, but the mess on your hands and clothes pulls your focus. Flour is smeared across your arms and streaked on your dress, and you can feel the sticky remnants of batter clinging to your fingers. Without wasting another moment, you slip out of the bustling kitchen, eager to return to your cabin for a much-needed cleanup.

As you head down the hall, your eyes catch sight of Jungkook leaning casually against the wall. His head is tilted down, eyes glued to his phone, but the sharp furrow of his brows and the tight line of his jaw betray his mood. He looks annoyed, maybe even angry.

For a moment, you hesitate. Should you approach him? Was his frustration because of the bake-off? Maybe he’s upset about not winning. You take a deep breath, deciding there’s no harm in greeting him. “Hey.” you say softly as you come to a stop a few feet away from him.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker towards you for the briefest second before returning to his screen. He doesn’t say anything, his fingers continuing to scroll, his expression unreadable but cold. The blatant dismissal catches you off guard. You clear your throat, attempting to brush off the sting of his indifference. “Jungkook?” you say again, your voice firmer this time.

Still, nothing.

The silence stretches, and unease begins to creep in. These past three days of the retreat, you guys had been civil, even managing moments of genuine connection. It had felt like a breakthrough, a tentative truce that hinted at something lighter, something easier. And yet, here he was, shutting you out without reason.

You shift on your feet, your confidence faltering slightly as you wonder if you’ve done something to upset him. “What’s up with you?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral, though the undercurrent of irritation is hard to hide.

This time, Jungkook finally looks up. His dark eyes meet yours, and for a fleeting moment, there’s something softer in them... something almost vulnerable. But just as quickly, that familiar wall slams back into place. “Nothing.” he mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Nothing?” you echo, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’ve been standing here, with your face looking like you just lost a million dollars, but sure, ‘nothing.’”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “Why don’t you just go back to Yoongi, Y/N? Stop bothering me.” he snaps. Your head tilts in surprise, amusement flickering briefly in your expression at the mention of Yoongi’s name. “Excuse me?” you ask, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, go back to him. Looks like you were having quite the time back in there.” Jungkook scoffs, looking away as his jaw tightens. Your amusement quickly shifts to irritation as you process his words. “Why do you even care?” you challenge, your tone sharp now.

“I don’t care.” he fires back almost immediately, his voice a little too quick, a little too defensive. “Oh really?” you ask, stepping closer as you narrow your eyes at him. “I just think it’s funny." he continues, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. “How you’re flirting with some other guy when I’m right here.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening slightly as if realizing what he’s just said. He quickly scrambles to cover it up, clearing his throat and speaking again, this time with forced nonchalance. “I mean, am I not your fake boyfriend? What are people going to think if they see you flirting with someone else?”

You blink at him, your irritation momentarily replaced by astonishment at the bizarre leap in logic. “Are you serious right now?” you ask, a dry laugh escaping you. “You’re worried about what people are going to think? Or are you just... I don't know?? Jealous, Jungkook?”

“I’m not jealous.” he snaps, his voice rising slightly, the defensiveness sharp in the air. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Good question.” you fire back, your tone heavy with sarcasm. “Why should you be jealous? Last time I checked, you’re not my real boyfriend.” Your words come out sharper than you intend, slicing through the tension between you.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens as he glares at you, his lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you watch as something flickers in his eyes, something silent, something that feels like hurt.

Even though you know what you said is the truth, there’s a pang of guilt in your chest. His expression softens just enough to make you second-guess yourself, and for a second, you wonder if maybe you shouldn't have said what you said.

He exhales slowly, the sound heavy with frustration and something else you can’t quite place. “Right.” he finally says, his voice quieter now, more measured. His arms cross over his chest, but the posture doesn’t feel defensive, it feels like he’s holding himself together. “I’m not your real boyfriend.”

The way he echoes your words, so pointedly yet almost resigned, sends a ripple of unease through you. There’s something about the way he looks at you now, something that feels raw and unguarded, and it makes your stomach twist.

For a moment, the silence stretches between you, heavy with everything neither of you is saying. You want to say something... anything, to break the tension, to take back the sting of your words. But nothing comes.

Instead, Jungkook steps back, his gaze lingering on you for just a second longer before he turns away. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Y/n.” he says, his tone light but his words weighted with something deeper. And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you standing there with the echo of your own voice ringing in your ears and a sinking feeling in your chest.

"I just don’t get it.” you groan, throwing your head back against the pillow in Hoseok's cabin, the ceiling above blurring as your thoughts churn. “Why is this happening? Why is he like this?” you question, recalling the earlier interaction between you and Jungkook.

Hoseok, sitting cross-legged on the floor, is surrounded by the chaos of his half-packed suitcase as he tries to find a nice outfit for tomorrow. He folds a T-shirt with an exaggerated patience, glancing up at you with an amused smile. “Come on, Y/N. It’s obvious.” he breathes out.

“What’s obvious?” you ask, your tone laced with frustration. Hoseok sighs dramatically, as if your cluelessness is physically exhausting for him. “He’s jealous.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring at him with furrowed brows. Even you had thought of this particular scenario, but you still question, acting clueless. “Jealous? Of what?”

Hoseok leans back on his hands, a grin tugging at his lips. “Of Yoongi, obviously. You should’ve seen the way he was glaring at the two of you during the bake-off. He was gripping the mixing bowl like it was the only thing keeping him attached to reality. I was literally expecting him to snap it in half.” he jokes.

A disbelieving laugh escapes you, but the weight of Hoseok’s words lingers. “That’s actually ridiculous. Why would he be jealous? We’re not even… I mean…” You trail off, the words “fake dating” sitting heavy in your throat.

“You tell me.” Hoseok says, shrugging as he picks up another shirt. “But it’s pretty clear to anyone with eyes that he was seconds away from combusting every time Yoongi even smiled at you.” he says.

You flop back against the pillow, covering your face with your hands. “This is so infuriating.” you grumble, your voice muffled. “Why does it even matter? It’s not like this whole fake boyfriend thing is real. It’s all just some stupid charade. And now… this... this unnecessary drama. It’s just messing with my mind.” you complain.

Hoseok is quiet for a moment, letting your words hang in the air before he speaks again. His tone is softer now. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You lower your hands slowly, turning your head to look at him. “What is it?” you question. He hesitates, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Do you... feel something for him?” he asks. The question hits you like a jolt, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Do you?

Your mind races, retracing the tangled threads of your feelings for Jungkook. The way your heart skips when he looks at you just a little too long, the way his rare moments of softness make your chest tighten.

The truth, you realize, is that these feelings aren’t entirely new. They’ve always been there, lurking beneath the surface. Even back at the office, behind all the snarky remarks and the constant bickering, you wanted his attention. You wanted to know him, to get closer to him.

But somehow, the easiest way to stay on his radar had been to antagonize him, to get under his skin. It was safer than admitting how you really felt.

Showing vulnerability to Jungkook felt like handing him a loaded weapon, giving him the upper hand, and that was something your pride wouldn’t allow. The realization settles over you, heavy and unavoidable. You’ve always felt something for him, haven’t you?

Finally, you take a deep breath, the words feeling heavy as they leave your lips. “I… I don’t know.” you mutter. Hoseok watches you closely, his expression softening. “Well...” he says, a small, knowing smile on his lips. “Maybe it’s time to figure it out. Because, Y/n, from where I’m standing, it’s pretty clear that he definitely feels something for you.”

His words settle over you like a weight you’re not ready to carry. You sit up abruptly, the tension in your chest too much to ignore. “I’m going for a walk.” you suddenly announce, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and heading towards the door of Hoseok’s cabin. “I need to clear my mind.”

Hoseok watches you with a soft smile, his hands pausing mid-fold. “Take your time.” he says gently, his tone laced with understanding.

You glance back at him briefly, catching the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, but you’re too preoccupied to comment on it. There’s too much swirling in your head... Jungkook’s piercing stare, his infuriating words, the way these past few days have been so... good with him, the knot of emotions you’ve been trying to untangle since this whole fake dating arrangement began.

Hoseok chuckles softly as you open the door, his voice light but warm. “Don’t think too hard, Y/N. Sometimes the answer is way simpler than you think.” you hear him say as you take a moment to let his words sink in before closing the door.

Jungkook paces across his cabin, each step mirroring the storm brewing in his chest. The memory of your heated exchange claws at him, replaying over and over like a broken record. He feels suffocated by his own frustration, a tightness in his chest that refuses to let go. Why had he let himself snap at you like that? Why couldn’t he control himself when it mattered the most?

Seeing you with Yoongi had been a punch to the gut. He hated the way it made him feel so small, so envious, so... desperate. He hated that it wasn’t him making you laugh, teasing you until you blushed, earning that bright, genuine smile that lit up your face. Instead, he was stuck in his own head, too consumed by his emotions to step up and be the person he wanted to be for you.

His jaw clenches as the questions pile up, each one heavier than the last. Why wasn’t he the one by your side, making you happy? Why was Yoongi so easily able to draw you in when Jungkook himself always seemed to stumble and just make you mad?

His stomach churns with the realization that his feelings for you are far more complicated than he’s willing to admit. The guilt gnaws at him, sharp and unrelenting. He knows he crossed a line.

You’d approached him, likely with the intention of being nice and talking to him since he looked annoyed, and instead of meeting you halfway, he’d lashed out, letting his jealousy dictate his words. Bringing up Yoongi had been petty and uncalled for, and he hates himself for it.

Jungkook exhales shakily, dragging a hand through his hair. He feels the weight of the unease coursing through his veins, and it’s unbearable. He can’t sit here and let things fester. Not when he’s spent the past few days realizing how much your dynamic is shifting... how much he’s shifting.

Without another thought, he grabs his jacket, slipping it on as he strides to the door. The crisp night air hits his face as he steps outside, but it does little to cool the turmoil within him. He doesn’t know what exactly he’ll say to you when he finds you, but he knows he has to try.

Because the idea of letting things revert back to what you guys once were feels unbearable. He doesn’t want to go back to being the guy who only got your attention through arguments and war of words. He doesn’t want to ruin whatever this fragile, tentative thing between you is turning into.

Jungkook shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, determination fueling his every step. He knows he owes you an apology and more than that, he owes you honesty. He just hopes he hasn’t already pushed you too far away.

As he crosses the quiet, dew-kissed lawn, his steps falter when he suddenly spots you. There you are, sitting alone on a weathered bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the lamplight. The cool night air wraps around you as you gaze out into the vast expanse of the dark sky, your eyes tracing the faint silhouettes of the mountains in the distance.

He stops in his tracks, his chest tightening at the sight of you. Even from a distance, he notices the way your teeth gently tug at your lower lip, a habit he’s come to recognize when you’re lost in thought. There’s a stillness about you, a kind of quiet vulnerability that makes something in him ache.

Jungkook exhales slowly, preparing himself. His feet carry him forward before his mind can overthink it. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, his nerves tangling tighter with each step. When he’s close enough to be heard but not startle you, he clears his throat softly. "Hey." he says, his voice gentler than he’d expected, almost unsure.

You glance up, your expression briefly startled before your features seem to soften. You don’t say anything immediately, and he hesitates, wondering if you’re going to ask him to leave. But you don’t... you just watch him, waiting for him to speak.

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, his gaze dropping momentarily before he forces himself to look at you again. His expression is uncharacteristically soft, a vulnerability shining through. "I just... I just wanted to say I'm sorry." he begins, his voice low but steady. "For earlier. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was out of line."

You don’t respond immediately, your eyes studying his face as the weight of his apology lingers between you. For a moment, all you can hear is the faint hum of crickets and the soft rustle of leaves in the night breeze.

With a quiet sigh, you scoot over slightly on the bench, offering him a silent invitation. Jungkook hesitates for half a second before sitting down beside you, leaving just enough space to feel the tension in the air.

His eyes drift to the mountains, dark silhouettes against the star-speckled sky, mirroring the turmoil in his mind. "I don’t know why I said it." he admits after a pause, frustration evident in his tone. "I guess... I just couldn’t stand seeing you with Yoongi like that. It got to me."

You let his words settle, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. "But it shouldn’t get to you, Jungkook." you reply, your voice quieter than you intended. "We’re... we’re not together. I don’t want things to get complicated between us." You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it harder to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Protecting yourself feels like the only option… you can’t risk letting him see how this fake relationship has started to feel real to you. It’s safer to pretend otherwise.

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, but you see his hands clench slightly, resting on his knees. Your words cut deeper than you realize. The phrase not together grates on him, leaving an ache in his chest he doesn’t know how to ease.

He wants to tell you how wrong you are, how much he wishes this whole thing was real, but something about the way you said it makes him falter. Maybe you don’t feel the same way, and he’s just fooling himself.

“I know I shouldn’t have pulled you into something like this.” he finally says, his voice softer now, almost resigned. You glance at him, noticing the conflicted expression on his face, but before you can reply, your gaze shifts past him to a figure lurking in the distance.

Mrs. Lee stands a few feet away, partially hidden by the shadows, her head tilted slightly, clearly trying to catch the tail end of your ongoing conversation. Her posture screams suspicion, and your stomach twists in panic. You don’t think, you just act.

“I know this whole fake relatio—” Jungkook starts, but you cut him off abruptly, leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

The kiss isn’t calculated or delicate, it’s instinctual, an impulsive move to shut him up before Mrs. Lee hears something she shouldn’t. Your lips are warm against his, though neither of you move.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening as his brain scrambles to catch up with what just happened. His heart hammers so loudly in his chest he’s certain you can hear it. For a second, the world tilts, his thoughts spinning in chaos.

But before he can even process it, you’re already pulling away. Your eyes dart past him, scanning the distance where Mrs. Lee once stood. You exhale softly when you realize she’s no longer there, most likely walking off with her suspicions unsatisfied.

“Fuck… that was... that was close.” you murmur, the words slipping out in a breathless whisper as your gaze finally locks with his. Your tone is almost too calm, too casual, as if the kiss hadn’t just turned his whole world upside down.

Jungkook just stares at you, his expression frozen in stunned disbelief, his lips still parted as if he’s trying to catch the remnants of something fleeting.

“What?” he mutters, the single word heavy with confusion and something raw. You exhale shakily, the weight of the moment crashing down on you as you realize the line you just crossed.

“I’m so sorry.” you begin, your voice faltering under his unwavering stare. “Mrs. Lee… she was eavesdropping. She was going to find out about us if you kept talking.” You explain.

His features shift instantly, the softness in his eyes hardening into something unreadable. It’s like watching a storm gather on the horizon, his emotions swirling, barely contained. You can almost see the exact moment realization hits him, the slight flinch in his jaw, the way his shoulders tense as the revelation bleeds into hurt.

“That’s… that’s why you kissed me?” His voice is low, trembling with disbelief and something sharper, something you can’t quite name. Your stomach twists with guilt, the weight of your actions clawing at you. “I mean… yeah.” you admit reluctantly. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

The darkness in his eyes deepens, his brows knitting together as a bitter laugh escapes him. It’s a sound so uncharacteristic, so hollow, it sends a pang through your chest. “So it wasn’t because you wanted to. It was just to keep the… act alive.”

The accusation in his tone slices through you, leaving a sting you can’t ignore. You reach for words, for anything to soften the blow, but he’s already moving, standing abruptly from the bench. His hand rakes through his hair, the motion restless and frustrated.

“Got it.” he mutters, his voice clipped, barely restrained as he starts striding away. “Jungkook, wait—” you call after him, scrambling to your feet, trying to grab his arm.

He whirls around so suddenly, the force of his movement makes you instinctively step back, the air thickening between you in an instant. His eyes are wild, blazing with frustration, but beneath it, there's a rawness, a vulnerability that cuts through everything else.

"No, Y/n !!" he snaps, his voice so sharp it feels like it could slice the air between you. "One minute you're telling me how you don't want things to get complicated, and the next, you're..." he gestures between you, his hand trembling slightly. "You're kissing me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

“I panicked!” you retort, your voice coming out ragged, barely holding onto control. You feel your heart pounding in your throat. “Mrs. Lee was about to find out, and I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t have a choice!”

His steps are measured, each one bringing him closer, his presence overwhelming, his energy suffocating. “You always have a choice.” he spits, his voice low but carrying a venom that stings deeper than any physical wound. “Don’t act like you did this for me. You did it because you were too terrified to face the consequences. That’s the truth, isn’t it?”

The accusation hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his words, and something in you snaps. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady, but the anger bubbling inside threatens to break free. “What do you want me to say, Jungkook?” you bite out, each word coming harder than the last. “That I wanted to kiss you? That I enjoyed it? Would that make you feel better?”

He scoffs, the sound bitter and cold, and it hits deeper than anything he’s said so far. "Don’t twist this around on me." His gaze hardens, his eyes narrowing with intensity. “You can’t just cross a line like that and pretend it means nothing. You don’t get to do that. You can’t just—"

“And what about you?” you fire back, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt, a sharp edge to your words now. “You’re the one who pulled me into this whole fake relationship to begin with… and now you’re mad because I’m going along with it? I’m sorry but this is on you, Jungkook!”

“On me?” His voice rises again, incredulity dripping from every syllable. “You could’ve stopped it at any time. The first night, the first second I lied to everyone… you could’ve told the truth. But you didn’t. You stayed silent. Like I said, you always have a choice.”

His words crash into you like a tidal wave, leaving you momentarily stunned. The anger and guilt mix into a swirling, suffocating knot in your chest. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. All you can feel is the sting of his words, and suddenly, you're fighting back, voice louder than before.

“Oh, please, Jungkook! I would’ve denied it if you hadn’t been constantly talking over me, pushing me to the corner. It was like you didn’t want me to deny it. So what the hell was I supposed to do?” You’re breathing heavily now, every word like a battle, your body trembling with the energy of it.

He stares at you for a moment, his chest heaving with each breath, his face still etched with fury, but there’s something else there now… a flicker of realization in his eyes, a shift that you can’t quite understand.

You speak again, the words coming out in a rushed, frantic burst. “Why did you even say it? What was the poi—"

“I couldn’t fucking stand Minhyuk flirting with you !!” His voice is rough, desperate, like he's been holding this back for far too long. The intensity of his confession strikes you like a thunderclap, and for a moment, you're too stunned to react.

Before you can say anything, he continues, voice raw with frustration. “If that creep wasn’t enough already, Mrs. Lee was going to set you up on another one of her stupid blind dates, and I couldn’t just stand there and let it happen. I couldn’t..."

You can hear the crack in his voice, the raw emotion bubbling over like a dam about to break. It’s like all the months of built-up frustration and unspoken feelings are crashing down on you all at once, and you’re struggling to keep your footing. “It doesn’t make sense, Jungkook.” you start, your words trembling. “Why does it bother you so much—”

“BECAUSE I LIKE YOU, DAMN IT!!” He cuts you off again, but this time, his voice doesn’t crack with anger, it’s louder, firmer, like it’s the last thing he’ll say before everything changes. The words explode from his chest, raw and unguarded, and they hit you like a physical blow. They hang in the air, suspended in time, and the ringing silence that follows is deafening. The weight of what he’s just said presses down on you, suffocating, unrelenting.

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you don’t know whether to speak, to run, to stay frozen in place, because the words he’s said are far heavier than anything you ever expected. He looks at you, his chest rising and falling, and after what feels like an eternity, he exhales a long, shuddering breath.

“There…” he murmurs, his voice softer now, but still edged with the intensity of what he’d just confessed. “There… you have it. I like you, Y/N. And just the thought of you with anyone else... it drives me crazy.”

The quietness that follows is unbearable, like everything around you has come to a grinding halt. All you can do is stand there, stunned, the truth of his words echoing in your mind, your heart pounding in your chest. He takes a step back, running a hand down his face as if trying to calm himself. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter.

“I came here to apologize to you tonight…” he begins, his voice trembling with a raw vulnerability that feels like a blade twisting inside your chest. “Because I thought… I thought we were finally moving past all those childish fights and pointless arguments. I thought…” His voice falters, a breath catching in his throat as he exhales shakily. “I thought I was developing something real with you.”

The weight of his words presses into you, splitting you open in ways you didn’t think were possible. You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes. The guilt, the truth, the mess you’ve made… everything hangs between you like an immovable barrier.

“I thought that throughout this retreat, I got to see so many more sides of you…” he continues, his words punctuated by a bitter laugh. “I thought I was getting closer to you, but I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong… because this is all just… a stupid fucking act to you.” His hand runs through his hair, frustration radiating off him in waves.

There’s a long, agonizing silence, thick and heavy, before he speaks again. His words are quieter, but they slice through the stillness. “You know what…” He suddenly pauses, looking away as if he’s trying to find a shred of clarity in the chaos. “You’re right. Maybe… maybe it was my fault after all. Getting into this stupid arrangement… What the hell was I even thinking?”

A bitter laugh escapes him then, hollow and dry, as he presses his lips together in a thin line. His gaze drifts upward to the dark sky, his eyes glistening with unshed emotion, the weight of everything he’s holding back palpable in the air. “Let’s just... pretend this… never fucking happened.” His words pass through you, sharp and final, and for a moment, your breath catches in your throat.

You stand frozen, watching him turn away, each step he takes away from you feels like an echo in your chest. He walks farther and farther away, his figure slowly shrinking in the distance, and with each step, the world around you grows colder, more suffocating.

The next two days pass by in a blur, a haze of confusion and regret that clouds your every thought. Jungkook avoids you like the plague, and it's impossible not to notice the way he keeps his distance in group settings, his eyes carefully avoiding yours whenever they happen to meet.

You can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as if everyone around you can sense something is off, but you're too wrapped up in your own head to care. Let them gossip. Let them wonder. It’s the least of your worries.

All you can think about is him. His words, his voice, the rawness in his confession. It replays over and over in your mind, and no matter how much you try to push it away, it lingers like a wound that won't heal. You're mad at yourself for letting things spiral this far, for letting it all get so out of hand. You should've said something, you tell yourself, but the truth is, you were terrified.

You still remember that night... the way your heart pounded in your chest when he confessed, how badly you wanted to tell him that you felt the same, that the shift hadn't been lost on you either. You wanted to tell him that this whole thing hadn't been a game for you, that your feelings had started to change, that you had started to care. But the look in his eyes, the vexation in his voice, it all stopped you from saying a single word.

In that moment, you froze. His frustration was palpable, and all you could do was stand there, staring at him, caught in the grip of everything he was throwing at you. His anger, his confusion, it filled the space between you like an impenetrable wall. You couldn't even find the courage to fight back, to tell him how much you had started to feel for him too. All you could do was listen to his words, to the weight of what he was saying, and let the silence stretch on longer than you ever intended.

And now here you are, stuck in this limbo, neither moving forward nor back, just existing in this awkward, painful space where every glance, every silence, feels like a reminder of what you couldn't say. You hate that he’s avoiding you, hate that you’re both walking around each other like ghosts in the same room, but you’re equally terrified of confronting it all head-on. What if he doesn't feel the same anymore? What if he regrets what he said?

You want to go to him, to break this silence, to tell him everything you should have said that night. But you're not sure if you can bear the weight of the possibility that he might not want to hear it. So instead, you keep your distance, the quiet ache of unspoken words building inside you, while everything around you continues to move in ways you no longer understand.

You remain in your cabin, the sound of laughter and chatter from outside barely registering in your mind as everyone else gets ready for the very last event of this retreat, the talent show.

The air around you feels thick, suffocating, as the buzz of excitement from your coworkers echoes through your cabin. But you don't care. You have no intention of participating, no desire to join in their festivities. The thought of putting on a smile, of pretending to be fine, feels exhausting. Instead, you pull the blanket tighter around yourself, cocooning yourself in the isolation you've come to crave.

You try to sleep, to let the darkness of the room envelop you and quiet the chaos inside your mind, but sleep feels elusive. Every time you close your eyes, your thoughts race back to him... his sharp words, the way he looked at you when he confessed, how he walked away as though nothing between you had ever mattered. The way he’s avoiding you now, as though you were a stranger he could never quite bring himself to face.

The thought of facing him again, of enduring another evening where he looks at you and then proceeds to ignore your very existence, is unbearable. You can’t take it. The coldness in his gaze, the way he acts like you’re nothing, like you’re invisible... it hurts in a way you hadn’t expected. You thought you could keep your feelings hidden, that you could keep pretending this was all just part of the act, but now, it’s all too real. It’s suffocating, and you’re left with nothing but the emptiness inside.

So you stay in your cabin, away from it all, away from him. All you want is for the world to quiet down, for the pain to stop, for the feeling of being ignored and invisible to disappear. But all you’re left with is the silence and the emptiness, a stark reminder that sometimes, it’s easier to hide than to face what’s right in front of you.

When you’re still trying hard to sleep, you hear a knock on the door. “Y/n, I’m coming in.” It’s Hoseok, but you don’t answer anything, remaining rooted to your position. He’s the only one who’s aware of your current situation, so he’s giving you all the space you need. “Hey…” he softly says as the door opens and his head peeks inside. “The talent show is starting in a bit. You sure you don’t want to watch?” he asks. You remain quiet, hoping your silence is able to convey your answer. Hoseok sighs softly. “Well if you change your mind, I’ll be outside okay?” And just like that you hear the door click close, leaving you and your thoughts alone all over again.

The clock’s ticking grows louder as the evening stretches on, the music and cheers from the arena outside only serving to remind you of your isolation. You sigh, the weight of your feelings pressing against you. Maybe staying in isn’t helping. Maybe stepping out will offer you the distraction you desperately need.

With a quiet resolution, you slip on your sweater over your dress, trying to smooth your hair into some semblance of order. Your face feels empty, but you don’t have the energy to care. You step out slowly, your eyes instinctively drawn to the bustling arena in front of you. The crowd, the music, the laughter... it’s all happening so effortlessly around you.

You make your way over, crossing your arms and leaning against a nearby pillar. Suho is performing a magic act on stage, his tricks capturing the crowd's attention and their gasps of wonder. You watch, a soft smile forming despite yourself, the momentary distraction soothing some of the tension in your chest. It’s nice, you think, to see others enjoying themselves, even if you feel a world away from it all.

As Suho finishes his act, you feel the lightness of the atmosphere begin to seep in, and for a moment, you start to forget about everything weighing on your mind. But then, Mr. Park’s voice rings out across the arena, breaking your moment of peace.

“And next... we have Jeon Jungkook, and he’s going to sing a song for us!!”

A wave of surprise floods through you, but you can’t tear your eyes away as Jungkook steps onto the stage and the crowd instantly cheers for him. He’s wearing an oversized sweater and jeans, looking effortlessly casual but somehow more captivating than ever. His smile is small but sincere as he faces the crowd, and the lights around the stage shift, casting a soft, dreamy glow on him.

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him, your chest tightening with something you can’t quite place. You know you shouldn’t feel this way, but the pull of his presence is undeniable. He doesn’t seem to notice you, too focused on the audience, but then the background music begins to play.

And you instantly recognize the song.

Your heart stumbles in your chest as the words hit you, sharp and tender all at once. You’ve heard this song before, countless times, but now… now it’s different. Every note seems to pull at something inside you, something you were fighting to keep buried. His voice is smooth, soft like honey, but there’s a rawness in it now, an emotion that you can’t ignore.

He closes his eyes as he sings, lost in the music, and for a moment, it’s as though the world around you has melted away. All that remains is him, his voice, and the lyrics that seem to cut right through you.

I gave you everything, baby, everything I had to give Girl, why would you push me away? Yeah Lost in confusion, like an illusion You know I'm used to making your day

The familiar words feel like they’ve been written just for this moment, for you. His voice carries the weight of the past, the bitter present between you two. And somehow, as he sings, it feels like he’s telling a story… the story of you both, wrapped in the lines of this song.

But that is the past now, we didn't last now I guess that this is meant to be Tell me, was it worth it? We were so perfect But, baby, I just want you to see

The words linger in the air, heavy with emotion, and your heart cracks with every line. The memories flash in your mind… every moment you shared, every smile, every laugh. But there’s a bitter sweetness in it too, a reminder of what was lost.

There's nothing like us There's nothing like you and me Together through the storm

And then, as if the universe itself has shifted, you feel it. His gaze. It lands on you from across the stage, and for a split second, it feels like the world stops spinning. He doesn’t break his gaze, his eyes steady on yours, but there’s something different now. Something raw. He’s still singing, but now it feels like every word is meant for you.

His voice, still gentle but filled with so much emotion, seems to wrap around you, pulling you into a world where only the two of you exist. The crowd fades away, and all that matters is the connection between you two… his gaze, his voice, his presence. You try to breathe, but it feels like the air has thickened. The way he sings… There's nothing like us, echo in your chest, resonating with a truth that both stings and soothes at the same time.

The moment stretches, heavy and thick, until it feels almost unbearable. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t break eye contact. He just keeps singing, as though the song itself is a confession, a bridge between what you were and what you could have been.

Once Jungkook steps off the stage, you rush back to your cabin, slamming the door behind you. You lean against it, your breath shallow and uneven. Slowly, you sink to the floor, your head falling onto your knees as the floodgates open. The tears come in waves, as if everything you've been holding in is finally breaking free. The pain in your chest is so sharp, so intense, that it almost feels like you can't breathe.

How did it all come to this? Why does it hurt so much? The confusion, the longing, the heartbreak... they all seem to crash down on you at once, overwhelming and relentless. You don’t know how long you sit there, lost in the ache, but you sob until your throat burns and your body trembles. Each sob feels like it’s tearing you apart.

You sit there, motionless, your head still resting on your knees, hugging yourself as if trying to hold onto something, anything. But nothing feels like it makes sense. You feel lost, like you're stranded in the middle of nowhere with no idea how to escape this unbearable pain that seems to consume you.

And just when you think you might drown in the silence of your own grief, you hear a knock on the door. “Y/n? You asleep?” It’s Hoseok again. You sigh, your chest heavy, and rise to your feet. You wipe your face hastily, but it’s no use. The tears are still there, still fresh. You turn and open the door, bracing yourself for whatever he might say.

“Oh… hey.” Hoseok says, but his voice catches when he sees your tear-streaked face. His eyes widen with concern. “Oh my god, Y/n… are you okay?”

You sniffle, your gaze falling to the floor as you shake your head, unable to speak, the weight of everything too much. It’s all it takes for Hoseok to step inside and pull you into his arms. You don't resist. His embrace is warm, safe, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself sink into it, allowing the tears to fall once more. And this time, you don’t have to be alone in it.

Hoseok's voice is soft, but his words carry weight as he helps you to the edge of your bed, his arms steady and comforting around you as he sits down with you. He doesn't say anything at first, just holds you gently, allowing the silence to stretch between you two.

"I thought I’d check up on you since the talent show just got over." Hoseok finally speaks, his voice low and steady. He pauses for a moment, his hand gently stroking your hair. "I didn’t expect to find you in this state."

You don't say anything, still wrapped up in his embrace, unsure of how to answer. His words seem to echo in the quiet room, but you don’t know what to say. You feel like you're drowning, and yet all you can do is sit there, letting the tears subside, one breath at a time.

"Y/n…" Hoseok whispers your name, his voice filled with concern. He doesn’t push for an answer right away, giving you the space to simply exist in the comfort of his arms. But then, he continues, his voice carrying a soft but steady note of advice. "I know it hurts right now, but you can’t keep burying this inside. You’re only going to keep hurting yourself that way."

His words are gentle, but they cut deep. You remain still, not ready to face what he's saying, but somehow, you know he's right. You're just scared, scared of the vulnerability, the fear of rejection.

"You should try talking to Jungkook." Hoseok says softly. "Even if he’s not ready to listen, even if it feels like he won’t understand, it’s still worth a shot. You deserve to let him know how you feel."

You flinch at the mention of Jungkook’s name, the thought of approaching him so raw, so vulnerable, makes your chest tighten. But Hoseok isn’t done.

"Y/n, liking someone, falling in love... it’s never wrong. You can’t control how you feel, and you don’t have to hide it because it scares you. Love is messy, it’s imperfect, but it’s not something to be ashamed of. You deserve to be honest, even if it’s hard."

A quiet sob escapes your lips, and Hoseok tightens his hold on you, not in a way that suffocates you, but with the warmth of someone who truly cares. Hoseok’s words sink in, each one cutting through the fog in your mind. As he holds you, stroking your hair gently, something inside of you shifts. His gentle advice, though simple, sparks a fire you didn’t even know was there. You feel a stir deep within you, a sudden surge of clarity that pushes aside the fear and doubt.

You deserve to be honest, even if it’s hard. The words echo in your mind, over and over, like a mantra. And for the first time in what feels like forever, something inside of you stirs something powerful, something real.

You pull away from Hoseok slightly, your face still wet with tears but your heart feeling a little lighter. You take a deep breath, the weight in your chest now feeling more like anticipation than dread.

“I have to go.” you murmur to Hoseok, your voice shaking but determined. Hoseok looks at you, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. "Are… are you sure?"

You don’t answer at first, just look at him, eyes wide with sudden resolve. “I’m going to talk to him. I can’t keep running away from this.” Without another word, you stand up, the suddenness of it all making your head spin. Your feet move on their own accord, each step purposeful as you cross the room. Hoseok watches, his eyes full of silent support.

As you step out of your cabin, the empty arena and stage immediately catch your attention. Chairs are scattered about, and you scan the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jungkook. Your feet start moving almost instinctively, the desire to find him overwhelming. You make your way to his cabin, but there's no response. A small part of you wonders if he’s ignoring you, but you push the thought aside, continuing your search around the resort grounds.

You check the rope bridge, wander through the rose garden, even visit the familiar bench where you once sat together, but there’s no sign of him. Your chest tightens, your heart thumping painfully with each turn, each empty corner. Desperation settles in as you run your fingers through your hair, trying to steady yourself.

And then, finally, you see him.

There he is, sitting in the hot tub, his back turned to you. You freeze in place for a moment, your eyes tracing the outline of his broad shoulders. His elbows rest casually on the rim of the tub, the soft steam rising from the water around him. He doesn’t seem to notice you standing behind him, your presence unnoticed in the quiet night.

For a long while, you just watch him, the sound of the water bubbling softly filling the silence between you. You feel a strange sense of both relief and anxiety. You’ve found him, but the distance between you feels insurmountable. He doesn’t know you’re here, doesn’t know the storm brewing in your chest.

You take a deep breath, mustering every ounce of courage you can find. Without saying a word, you step forward, your heart hammering in your chest. Each step feels heavier than the last, and your hands grip the fabric of your dress, the tightness in your fists mirroring the anxiety bubbling inside you.

When you’re only a few feet away, you can’t hold back anymore. “Jungkook…” you call out, your voice trembling ever so slightly as it cuts through the soft sounds of the bubbling water.

His body stiffens instantly. The tense shift of his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You watch his back, his head slightly bowed, as if he’s trying to ignore your presence. The air between you thickens, the tension palpable as the sound of the water swirls around you, drowning out everything else.

You stand there, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. The silence stretches on, thick and uncomfortable, the sound of the bubbling water in the hot tub louder than your racing thoughts. Your hands tremble slightly, and your heart beats erratically as the words you're holding in fight to escape.

"Jungkook…" you call out again, your voice wavering, almost a desperate whisper. It feels like you’re trying to hold a thousand emotions together, but they’re spilling out of you, unstoppable. "I… I don’t even know where to begin, but I need you to hear me out... I really... really need you to just give me a chance... to explain myself."

The air around you feels thick, suffocating, as if your very breath is tangled with everything unsaid. You can see him still not turning to face you, his back a wall, his silence deafening.

A pang of frustration courses through you, but beneath it, there’s something even more powerful... a deep longing, a desperate yearning. You’ve never felt this exposed, yet this desperate to make him understand.

With hesitant steps, you move around the edge of the hot tub, reaching the other side where you can finally see his face, heart racing in your chest as you inch closer. The blue light from the tub spills over the rim, casting soft shadows on his face, making his features seem almost ethereal.

The water ripples, reflecting fragments of his skin, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath. He’s looking down, eyes shadowed, and his tongue absentmindedly tracing the piercings on his lip.

The sight of him, so close yet so distant, breaks something inside you. You swallow, fighting to keep the emotions in check, but it's no use. The tears that you’ve been holding back finally fall freely, slipping down your cheeks despite your best efforts to keep them in.

You take another shaky breath and walk a little closer, your heart pounding louder with every step, until you’re at the very edge of the hot tub. You hesitantly take a seat on the wet rim, opposite to where he's standing in the water. You can feel the warm steam of the boiling water near you, and a sigh escapes your lips as your gaze shifts to him again.

With trembling hands, you wipe away the fresh stream of tears, but they only seem to flow faster, as if your heart itself is breaking and you can no longer hold it together. You open your mouth to speak, but your voice falters, cracking with emotion.

"Are you… really going to ignore me?" you ask, the words feeling like cold metal against your tongue. The tremor in your voice betrays every ounce of control you’ve desperately tried to hold on to. It’s like the weight of your emotions spills out in that single sentence, and Jungkook, as if sensing the raw vulnerability in your tone, finally looks up. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to stop.

The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words. His gaze, deep and intense, softens, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes... something like regret, guilt, perhaps even pain, as he takes in the sight of your tear-streaked face. His gaze flicks over the intricate trails of tears on your cheeks, each one a silent testament to the weight you’ve been carrying.

He doesn’t speak immediately, and for a second, you wonder if he’ll turn away again. But instead, he remains still, his expression unreadable yet so undeniably affected. Realizing this is your chance to finally speak, you begin.

"I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything that happened. I never meant for it to turn out like this. I… I was so scared… scared of how things had suddenly changed between us. But, Jungkook, I—" Your voice falters, and a sob escapes before you can stop it. You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat, but the tears continue to fall, relentless.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his chest when he sees the tears streaming down your face. It’s like a punch to the gut, and he feels it deep within himself. At that moment, he realizes just how much he despises seeing you cry, how every tear you shed breaks him in ways he can’t even put into words. He doesn’t want to see you like this... not hurt, not broken.

He swallows hard, his throat tight as guilt floods through him. The past two days have been an absolute nightmare for him. After confessing his feelings in the most chaotic, confusing way possible, all he could do was push you away, though every part of him screamed to reach out. Ignoring you was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but in a twisted way, he convinced himself it was the only way to deal with everything that had changed between you two.

He thought it would make things easier, but instead, it only twisted the knife deeper, making him feel more lost than ever. You were the only person he wanted to talk to, the only person who could make him feel whole again and yet, ironically, you were also the one person he felt he couldn’t face.

His elbows shift off the rim of the hot tub, and with slow and steady steps inside the warm water, he makes his way towards the other end of the tub where you’re seated on the rim. "Hey..." he calls out softly, but you just can’t stop crying. The words he wants to say seem to get caught in his throat, as if he’s afraid to say the wrong thing, yet helpless to remain silent.

He rests his palms on the rim, right behind you, as you remain hunched, your face buried in your hands. You don’t acknowledge his presence immediately, still consumed by the storm of emotion inside you.

Before he can say another word, you're speaking again, your voice shaky and broken, each word heavy with the weight of everything you’ve been holding back. "You don’t know how much it hurts, seeing you like this, seeing you… push me away when all I want is... to talk to you... to... to be with you." Your voice cracks as you try to gather yourself, but the tears just won’t stop.

"I’ve been holding this in for so long, because I thought if I kept quiet, things would get better, but they haven’t. They never will, unless I say this…" The silence that follows is suffocating, the words hanging in the air between you, raw and unfiltered. Jungkook’s expression softens, his gaze flickering with something almost unreadable, but the guilt is clear.

He watches you carefully, unable to tear his eyes away as you continue to break open before him. He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t try to stop the flow of your confession. He knows, in this moment, that the only thing he can do is listen, because no matter how hard it is to hear, you need to speak your truth.

You take another shaky breath, finally moving your hands away from your face as you turn to look at him. He’s so much more closer now as he looks up at you from the hot tub.

"I care about you… I care about you so much, Jungkook. I think I’ve always cared, even when I didn’t know how to show it. And now, all I can do is watch you drift away, and I hate it. I hate how I made you think that I didn’t feel the same… that I didn’t want this. But I do. I want us.... and I so badly wanted our fake relationship to be… to be real.”

The sobs start coming again, stronger this time, making it harder to get the words out. "I like you. I like you so much. And it hurts to see you looking at me like I’m a stranger when all I’ve wanted was for you to understand that you mean so much more to me... you're not... not my rival.. not my enemy..."

You stop for a moment, trying to gather yourself. The weight of everything you’ve been holding in crashes over you like a wave, but you continue, your voice breaking as you speak. "I’m sorry if this is too much, if I’m saying all the wrong things, but I just… I can’t keep pretending anymore. I can’t stand this distance between us… especially knowing I’m the reason behind it. Please just… forgive me. It was never just an act to me… I swear."

You wipe your face with the back of your hand, your trembling fingers only making the tears blur more. Your stomach churns with the overwhelming weight of everything you’ve just poured out. The silence that follows feels like it stretches for miles, too heavy to bear, and you can't bring yourself to look at him.

Your eyes stay lowered, afraid to see the disappointment or confusion that you might find in his gaze. Afraid of the silence that might follow your confession.

But then, you feel a warmth against your back... his hand, gentle but firm, resting there. It startles you, but you don't move. He doesn't say anything, but you feel his presence growing stronger as he slowly guides your body to face him, carefully moving you on the rim of the hot tub.

Your legs dip into the water, the warmth of it momentarily soothing the aching in your chest, but the heat of the moment, the proximity between you and Jungkook, is all consuming.

You look down at him, still unsure of what’s happening, but then you feel him tug you forward, ever so gently, until your body slips off the rim and is immersed in the boiling water. The warmth of the water seems to fade in comparison to the heat that’s building between you both.

Your heart races, a thousand thoughts swirling in your head, but the moment you feel his hands settle around your waist, your breath catches. He’s holding you, steadying you, inching you closer until you’re completely within his space.

Your mind spins as you try to process what’s happening. You can’t decide if you should pull away or lean into him, but the way he holds you…so carefully, yet with a quiet urgency, makes you stay. The water bubbles around you both, but the world around you feels so distant. It’s just him and you in this moment. You try to steady your breathing, but the knot in your chest only tightens.

"Jungkook..." you whisper, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. His gaze softens, his small smile lingering as he listens, his gaze never leaving your face. His eyes twitch and his heart breaks as he notices the tears on your cheeks, but finally being in this moment has him feeling lighter.

He lets out a light laugh, his tone shifting to a teasing one, "Took you long enough." his smile widening a little more. But then, as if to lighten the mood, his tone changes, filled with playful curiosity, "Is someone watching us right now, or are you being for real?"

The shift in his tone, the way he jokes despite everything that’s been said, catches you off guard. But despite the overwhelming emotions bubbling inside you, a small giggle escapes your lips, the sound strange but freeing in the silence that had weighed so heavily before. You wipe your face again, but this time, it’s not just tears... there’s a small trace of relief, of hope.

"I don’t care if anyone's watching or not..." you whisper, the weight of your confession finally slipping off your shoulders. And then, as if you’re no longer holding anything back, you take a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly as you continue, "But Jungkook, I…" You falter for just a moment, unsure of how to let this truth unfold.

His hands tug you closer in the water, the intimacy of the gesture settling within you, making your heart beat faster.

You can feel his body so close to yours, your dress still clinging to your skin under the rippling surface of the warm water, but you shove the thought aside. None of it matters anymore... not the water, not the fact that you're in the hot tub with your clothes still on. All that matters is the words you’re finally ready to say.

"I like you." you whisper softly, each word feeling like it holds all the emotions you’ve kept hidden for so long. "I like you... so much. And truthfully, these feelings aren’t new. I think a part of me has always liked you this way."

The confession slips out so naturally, but it feels like a weight has been lifted. You’ve finally said what’s been buried deep inside you, what you've struggled with for so long, with so much resolve and confidence. And as Jungkook listens, the silence between you now feels different.... lighter, warmer, almost like a promise in itself.

Jungkook smiles, his heart leaping in his chest. “Do you mean that?” he asks quietly, his voice soft, like he needs you to say it all again. You nod frantically, inching closer in the water as you feel his form against yours. “I do. I mean every word. And if I’ve ruined everything between us, I’m so sorry. But I had to tell you, even if it changes nothing.”

For a moment, he just stares down at you, the reflection of the water reflecting in his dark eyes. “You haven’t ruined anything...” he murmurs, his grip tightening around your waist. “If anything, I’ve been the one ruining it by staying away when all I wanted was to be close to you.”

Your breath hitches as he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours. “You scared me too, you know....” he pauses, the bubbling sound of the water filling the air again. “I wasn’t sure if what I felt for you was too much, too soon. But now I know… it’s never too much.... You’re never too much.”

As his forehead rests against yours, your eyes remain closed as you intently listen to him as a small smile tugs your trembling lips. "So... what now?" you ask quietly.

You feel him pull away just a little and you notice how his lips curve into a small, tender smile. “Now, we stop running... we stop this fake relationship and we get our shits together.” His laugh escapes at the end, low and warm, and you can’t help but giggle through the tears still clinging to your lashes.

“So no more acts?” you tease gently as you rest your palms against his bare chest. “No more acts.” he promises, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with quiet determination and a depth of affection that leaves you breathless.

The moment stretches, heavy with an unspoken tension, until Jungkook leans in slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips. He hesitates, as if searching for permission, and you feel your breath catch. Slowly, you close the gap yourself, and the moment your lips meet, it's like you've wanted nothing more than this.

His kiss is soft at first, tentative, like a question he’s finally found the courage to ask. The warmth of it washes over you, melting every ounce of fear and hesitation. You lean into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as he pulls you closer, his grip on your waist firm and steady.

When the kiss deepens, it’s unhurried and achingly tender, like he’s trying to pour every unsaid word and feeling into it. His wet hand moves to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as if to soothe the tears that still linger there.

When you finally pull apart, your foreheads rest together, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. His eyes flutter open, and there’s a flicker of vulnerability mixed with relief.

“I don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” he admits, his voice low and raspy, barely audible over the gentle bubbling of the water. His dark eyes, brimming with sincerity, search yours as if you hold the answer to every question he’s ever been afraid to ask. His lips curve into a soft, almost bashful smile. “Maybe forever.” he adds.

His words wash over you like the warm water surrounding you, leaving you breathless and weightless all at once. Your heart flips, and for the first time, it feels like all the pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place. A small, shy smile spreads across your face as your fingers trace the line of his jaw, the motion as delicate as the emotions coursing through you.

“You’re so cute.” you murmur, your palm now resting on his cheek. He lets out a soft laugh, the sound vibrating through the air and settling somewhere deep in your chest. “No, you’re the cute one.” he counters, his tone playful but tender.

Before you can reply, his hands shift, traveling from your waist to the back of your thighs. In one swift, fluid motion, he lifts you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The sudden movement steals your breath, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, you’re filled with a warmth that melts away any lingering hesitations.

A giggle escapes your lips, light and free, breaking through the tension like sunlight cutting through storm clouds. You're amused by his actions, but somehow, it all feels undeniably right. “There’s nothing like you, I swear.” you murmur, your laughter softening as your gaze locks onto his. Your eyes shine with an unspoken joy, the weight of your emotions finally finding their voice.

His hands tighten their grip, anchoring you to him as though letting go isn’t an option he’s willing to entertain. “Well...” he says, his gaze burning with a quiet intensity that leaves you breathless. “There’s nothing like us.”

And in that moment, you know he’s right. The journey to this point had been anything but easy... regular arguments, constant disagreements, misunderstandings that felt impossible to untangle and of course, a fake relationship. But somewhere in the chaos, you’d found something real. Something worth fighting for.

He tilts his head, his wet fingers brushing against your cheek with a reverence that makes your heart stutter. “I didn’t think I could let myself feel like this for someone.” he whispers. “But you... you’re everything I didn’t know I needed. You’re the person who makes everything make sense.” he smiles.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, not from pain or fear, but from the overwhelming joy of being seen, truly seen.

Somehow, his lips find yours again, slow and soft, the kiss carrying the weight of everything unspoken. It’s not rushed or desperate, it’s steady and sure, a promise of the future you’ll build together. Each moment feels endless, as if time itself has paused to honor the love blooming between you.

When you finally pull away, the world feels lighter, the air filled with possibility. “We’ve come a long way.” you say, wonder threading through your voice. His smile turns mischievous, his eyebrow quirking as his playful side reemerges. “From glaring at each other during meetings and passing snarky comments every 3 seconds... to this?” he teases, his laughter soft and contagious.

You roll your eyes, though the corners of your mouth lift in a smile. “I still think you’re insufferable sometimes.” you shrug.

“And I still think you’re stubborn.” he shoots back, his grin widening as he hugs your waist tighter. “But honestly, I think I can live with that.” you reply, your voice softening as your hand brushes against his nape, your touch tender.

“Good.” he whispers, pulling you into a warm embrace, the water rippling gently around you both. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

1K notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 5 months ago

Text

Arranged Marriage — Hoshi x Reader

— Synopsis: In contrast to the tired old plots of arranged marriages where the couple can't stand each other, you and Soonyoung are childhood friends. It's not just like marrying a friend—no, no, actually, it is marrying a friend, no-frills and simple. — WC: 10k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, fingering, oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, choking, one single slap on the ass, hair pulling, aftercare, whipped!hoshi, hoshi teases reader until she almost cries for dick, mentions of alcohol, mentions of body fluids (cum, sweat), DIRTY TALK—prob the nastiest dirty talk i've written.

You knew this day would come.

Growing up in a world where luxury, money, stock exchange, and business were the pillars of existence, arranged marriages were just another part of the cycle. Two patrimonies merging into one for the benefit of both families—it was a tradition as old as time.

Some couples embraced the spotlight, showcasing their unity to the world. Others barely tolerated each other, living in separate homes to maintain a fake image. There were also those whose mutual disdain led to chaos both in their personal lives and in the family businesses.

When you saw Soonyoung in your home, dressed in a suit that clearly wasn’t his style, you felt a hurricane of emotions. His usual vibrant, carefree energy seemed stifled under the weight of the tailored fabric. You greeted him and his family alongside your parents, both of you a shy mess, but something in his eyes told you things might not be as bad as you feared.

“Hey,” Soonyoung murmured as you both found a moment away from the adults’ formal discussions. “This suit is killing me.”

You laughed softly, feeling a sense of relief. “You look... different.”

“Yeah, definitely not my usual style, you know me” he grinned, loosening his tie. “But I guess we’re both out of our comfort zones today.”

You nodded, memories flooding back of the two of you playing outside when kids, during business congresses, your parents inside discussing mergers and acquisitions while you and Soonyoung chased each other around the gardens. “Do you remember those days?”

“Of course,” he said, eyes lighting up with nostalgia. “We had our own little world, didn’t we?”

“We did,” you replied. “And now, here we are.”

“So, how do you feel about this?” he asked, shy, looking at your expensive dress, clearly set for tonight. “About us... getting married?”

“I’ve been preparing for it my whole life, I guess,” you said honestly. “But with you... it feels different. Less intimidating."

“I feel the same,” Soonyoung admitted. “I mean, if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

You smiled. “Maybe we can make this work. Find a balance between our lifes.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We can create something new, something that’s ours.”

You looked at him, seeing not just the boy you grew up with, but a partner. Someone who understood the complexities of your world and was willing to navigate them with you.

You looked around your house, taking in the scene. Soonyoung’s family mingled with yours, coworkers from your parents’ firms exchanged polite conversation, and your and Soonyoung’s nephews were playing circles around the couch.

The weight of the day pressed on your shoulders, a burden that didn’t match the elegance of the dress you were wearing for the marriage proposal.

Soonyoung’s eyes met yours, noticing your tense posture. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” he asked softly.

You looked at him, sulking, and he recognized the same expression you had when you were eight.

He leaned in, whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, but I brought a bottle of tequila. It’s in my trunk. Would you like some to relax?”

You stared at him in silence before nodding with an exasperated look, feeling like it was exactly what you needed.

“Did you bring a shot cup?” you asked, following him outside.

He stopped, bottle in hand, and you both laughed. Taking the bottle from him, you leaned against his car, opened the cap, and poured a generous shot—maybe a little more—straight into your mouth. Soonyoung watched, his mouth wide open in surprise. You handed the bottle back to him.

“Why are you nervous?” he asked, taking a swig himself, looking comically exaggerated as he did. “I’m the one who has to kneel and propose today. My heart feels like it’s about to explode.”

You both laughed like teenagers getting away with something forbidden, hiding behind his car.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you broke it. “Do you have the ring here?”

He looked at you and nodded.

“Can I see it?” you asked, your curiosity piqued as if he had a rare Pokémon card.

“Is that right?” he teased.

You made doe eyes and asked, “Pretty please?”

He smiled, pulling a small black box from his pocket and opening it for you.

The diamond ring sparkled in your eyes, its brilliance captivating. “It’s beautiful,” you murmured.

Soonyoung nodded, grinning. “My sister helped me choose it. I originally wanted a diamond shaped like a cat, but she said that wasn’t appropriate.”

You laughed, the image of a cat-shaped diamond making you smile. “It’s beautiful, but a kitten-shaped ring sounds adorable. I would’ve loved that too.”

His grin widened, a small, proud smile lighting up his face as you both admired the ring.

Your moment was interrupted by Soonyoung’s mom's voice, echoing from the house. “Oh my god, are you already proposing?”

Soonyoung choked on his own saliva, his eyes wide with panic. The best thing to do now? Say no and face his mother’s scolding for showing the ring prematurely, or actually propose right then and there?

Before he could think it through, he found himself on one knee on the sidewalk, his heart pounding. You quickly hid the tequila bottle behind your back.

“Soonyoung, what are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“I... I’m improvising,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

The spontaneity of it all, made you laugh and cry at the same time, you needed to pretend you were actually emotional. “Yes, Soonyoung. Yes, I will.”

You barely noticed the sudden crowd that had gathered around you, they'd appeared out of nowhere, all eyes on the two of you. Soonyoung’s hand trembled slightly as he slid the ring onto your finger, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of his touch.

You smiled nervously at him, teeth gritted. “Hug me,” you whispered urgently, your eyes darting to the tequila bottle that was precariously wedged behind your back. “Please, put the tequila bottle inside your car. It's practically shoved inside my ass.”

Soonyoung blinked, processing your words before a grin spread across his face. He pulled you into a tight hug, the kind that felt both reassuring and grounding. As he embraced you, he expertly reached behind you, his fingers brushing against the bottle.

You could feel his body shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

“Hang on,” he whispered back.

He managed to grab the bottle and discreetly slid it out from behind you. Still holding you close, he took a step back towards the car, opening the door with one hand and slipping the bottle inside. The whole maneuver was so smooth that you doubted anyone noticed the clandestine operation.

That moment eased the tension of the night, but the tequila hadn’t taken effect yet, and you knew you had to keep an eye on Soonyoung. His alcohol tolerance was notoriously low, and you didn’t want him to embarrass himself—or worse, get into trouble.

As the night wound down and Soonyoung’s dad started to lead him to the car, Soonyoung sulked, trying to resist. “I want to talk a bit more to my bride,” he protested, his voice slightly slurred. His words elicited good-natured laughter from both families, who were enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

You walked over to him, giving him a warm hug and patting his head affectionately. “It’s time to go home, Soonyoung,” you said gently.

He looked at you with wide, earnest eyes, the warmth in his gaze reminding you of why you felt less nervous than you should. Soonyoung had always been warm-hearted, and maybe that’s why you felt a sense of calm amidst the chaos.

As you pulled back from the hug, Soonyoung’s hand lingered in yours for a moment longer. “Promise you’ll call me tomorrow?” he asked, his tone earnest despite his tipsiness.

“Promise,” you replied, smiling as you squeezed his hand.

With one last affectionate look, Soonyoung allowed his dad to guide him into the car. You watched as the vehicle pulled away. Your parents approached, their expressions a blend of amusement and expectation.

“Well, that was quite a night,” your mom said, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Yes, it was,” you agreed, glancing at your dad, who nodded in approval.

“You two make a good pair,” your dad said, his tone warm. “I’m glad to see you both getting along so well.”

Your parents were now expectant, believing you and Soonyoung were truly becoming a couple. And in a way, you were—just not in the conventional sense they imagined.

The next day, even though it was a promise to a drunk boy, you called Soonyoung in the morning. Like any typical business wedding, the preparations started swiftly, aiming to have the wedding happen as soon as possible. Today, you were going to choose the food and drinks for the event.

When Soonyoung arrived, he was all tidied up, but his face was clearly tired. You laughed a bit, “You look…”

He completed for you, “Fucked?”

You chuckled, “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Long night,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes. “But I’m here.”

“Good, because we have a lot to decide,” you replied, glancing at the event agent who was discussing the dessert options.

As you both looked at the event agent, who insisted on adding superfluous things to the sweets—like a layer of gold—you exchanged amused glances. The agent was enthusiastically explaining the virtues of gold-leaf-covered desserts.

“Gold? For us to... poop?” Soonyoung murmured incredulously.

You stifled a laugh and leaned closer to him. “Can’t it be something more tasty?”

The agent looked slightly taken aback. “Gold leaf is quite a statement piece.”

Soonyoung nodded, trying to be polite. “But we were thinking of something simpler.”

“How about churros?” you suggest.

The agent blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Churros? For a wedding?”

“Why not?” you said with a grin. “They’re delicious, and everyone loves them.”

“But they don’t exactly scream luxury,” the agent protested.

“They scream fun,” Soonyoung countered. “And isn’t that what weddings are supposed to be?”

The agent sighed, making a note. “Alright, churros it is. Anything else?”

“Maybe some street-style tacos?” he added, enjoying the agent’s bewildered expression.

“Tacos?” the agent repeated, as if the word was foreign.

“Yeah, why not?” Soonyoung agreed. “Let’s keep it simple and tasty.”

The agent finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Very well. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Honestly, days flew by with Soonyoung by your side. Planning every little detail of the wedding together brought both fun and challenges, especially when your tastes didn’t always align. It was a bit complicated at first, like when you two were choosing the destination for your honeymoon.

Soonyoung wanted an adventure-packed trip to the Amazon rainforest, while you preferred a relaxing beach resort in the Maldives. The negotiations were intense, but you eventually settled on a compromise.

Choosing Soonyoung’s suit also proved to be a task. He insisted on wearing a tie with a tiger print, a nod to his childhood love for tigers. You were surprised that his fascination with the big cats had persisted, but you drew the line at a tiger tie. “Absolutely not,” you told him firmly, trying to imagine the looks you’d get. “A tiger tie is a no from me, and I think a lot of people would agree.”

“Fine,” he conceded with a sigh, but you could tell he was already thinking about how to sneak a little tiger motif into his outfit.

When it came to choosing your dress, you were accompanied by your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister.

Soonyoung, the only man in the group, tagged along as well. The other brides at the boutique initially assumed he was either your brother or your stylist.

Their jaws nearly dropped when they overheard he was actually the groom.

One of the brides, adjusting her veil in front of a mirror, turned to you, wide-eyed. “Wait, he’s your husband-to-be?”

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed with a smile, watching Soonyoung fuss over a lace detail on one of the dresses.

Another bride laughed softly. “Lucky you! He’s so involved.”

“He’s been amazing,” you said. “Except for his obsession with tiger prints.”

Soonyoung, overhearing, grinned and walked over. “What can I say? Tigers are cool.”

“Soonyoung, you’re a unique groom,” his sister teased, shaking her head.

As you tried on dresses, Soonyoung offered his opinions with surprising thoughtfulness, balancing out his more quirky suggestions. He was genuinely invested in making sure you felt beautiful and confident in your choice.

You’d tried on everything: the biggest gowns, the tightest silhouettes, dresses with endless layers of skirts, and others that hugged your hips so closely it felt like they were molded to your skin.

There were corsets that took your breath away—literally—and fabrics that shimmered under the boutique lights.

But this time, when you left the dressing room, you were wearing a veil.

Soonyoung’s eyes didn’t lie for a second. He liked this one very much. The women around you—your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister—fussed over the dress, adjusting it here and there, offering compliments. But Soonyoung was speechless.

If Soonyoung were to be completely honest, up until this moment, he had always seen you as his friend, the girl he was going to marry because of an arrangement. You were the same girl who used to run around the events, eluding the security guards with your mischievous giggles.

But now, you were different. You were a woman. His woman. And you looked stunning.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The transformation was breathtaking. You stood there, looking radiant in your wedding dress, and for the first time, the reality of the situation hit him. You weren’t just a friend anymore; you were about to become his partner, his wife.

He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t realize he was gawking until you and the women turned to him, waiting for his response. He blinked, snapping back to reality, and managed to find his voice.

“You look...” he started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Your cheeks flushed at his earnest compliment. “You really think so?”

Soonyoung nodded, still unable to tear his eyes away. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

His sister grinned, nudging him playfully. “Told you she’d find the perfect dress.”

Your mom wiped away a tear, “You’re going to make a beautiful bride.”

Soonyoung’s mom stepped forward, adjusting a tiny detail on the veil. “This is the one. It’s perfect.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Yes, this is the one,” you said, smiling at the reflection and then at the people around you who made this moment even more special.

[...]

The days leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind of activity. Every day brought something new to choose, and your creativity was running dry. You were worn out, and Soonyoung knew it. Today had been particularly exhausting.

As the realtor showed you yet another option for apartments in the Metropole, you responded with short answers, your enthusiasm long gone after visiting sixteen places that day alone.

“So, what do you think?” the realtor asked.

Soonyoung noticed your hesitation. “Can I talk with my wife for a sec?” he asked.

The realtor nodded and walked off, giving you space.

“Y/N-nie... are you okay?” Soonyoung asked softly, looking at you through his lashes.

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I’m so tired,” you confessed.

He took a step closer, his voice softening. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You breathed out heavily. “My family is putting a lot of pressure on me, and I’m working relentlessly at the company. I can’t wait for us to get married…”

Soonyoung’s heart sank a little. “You want to get married just to get free from it?”

“No, it’s not just that. It’s everything. The wedding preparations, the constant decisions, the endless work... I feel like I’m drowning.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand. “We don’t have to rush this, you know. We can take our time.”

“But everyone’s expecting so much from us,” you replied, feeling the weight of expectations.

“Let them expect,” he said firmly. “And I want this to be as much about you as it is about us.”

“I just... I don’t want to disappoint anyone,” you admitted.

“You won’t,” Soonyoung assured you. “You’ve already done so much. It’s okay to take a step back and breathe.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit lighter. “Alright. Let’s look at this apartment one more time.”

Soonyoung nodded, giving you an encouraging smile. “And if it’s not the one, we’ll keep looking until we find the perfect place for us.”

You laughed softly, the tension easing. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Just doing my job as your soon-to-be husband,” he said playfully.

Soonyoung was doing an incredible job.

From what you’d heard from friends who had gone through the same situation, they didn’t have partners like Soonyoung. You felt proud of him.

He was your rock, making sure you took a breath when you were overwhelmed by the slightest things. He even insisted you didn't move a finger during brunch, making you so relaxed that you found the apartment you’d been searching for on the very same day.

The drive home was quiet, the car enveloped in a peaceful silence that allowed you a moment to rest. You laid your head back as he drove, appreciating the tranquility. Once you arrived, you stayed seated for a bit, soaking in the comfort of the quiet.

Soonyoung looked at you, waiting patiently. When you finally looked up, he gave you a gentle smile. “Ready to go in?”

You nodded, feeling a bit more refreshed. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He stepped out of the car and came around to your side, opening the door for you. “Take your time,” he said softly.

You appreciated his patience as you slowly got out of the car. “Thank you, Soonyoung.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the house. “I’m just doing what any good partner would do.”

You leaned into him, feeling grateful for his support. “I don’t think everyone is as lucky as I am.”

He chuckled softly. “Well, I’m pretty lucky too, you know.”

As you entered the house, you felt a sense of relief. The apartment search was over, and you had found the perfect place. More importantly, you had Soonyoung by your side, making every step of this journey easier.

“So, what’s next on our list?” he asked, guiding you to the living room.

You sank into the couch, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. “I think a nap is next on my list.”

He laughed, sitting beside you. “That sounds like a perfect plan.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders. “Wake me up in an hour?”

[...]

The days flew by in a blur with the whirlwind of wedding preparations. It felt like only moments ago you were choosing flowers, tasting cakes, and finalizing guest lists.

Now, as you stood at the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet in front of Soonyoung, the reality of the moment hit you with full force.

The weight of the dress and the pressure of looking perfect made your hands sweat like never before. You felt like a porcelain doll, perfectly polished and poised.

Soonyoung stood there, his eyes fixed on you with pride. He couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. Here you were, a perfect woman by his side, and even better, an old friend he'd known for years.

The familiarity of your presence brought him comfort. Despite the fact that you hadn’t really dated, the idea of having someone as pretty and cool as you with him every day made him feel at ease about the whole situation.

As you walked down the aisle, your eyes met his, and a small, reassuring smile played on his lips. He looked stunning in his suit, and the way he stood tall, waiting for you, made your heart flutter.

You could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes, mirroring your own, but there was also a calmness there, a silent promise that everything would be alright.

When you finally reached him, he extended his hand towards you. He leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “You look amazing.”

You blushed, your nerves momentarily forgotten. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

The vows were sincere, filled with heartfelt words that spoke more to your shared friendship than any romantic notion. Both of you couldn’t help but giggle as you remembered all the crazy things you’d done together as kids.

Your minds flashed to the time you stole sweets from an event or when you both jumped into a water fountain during an important dinner with company directors.

As the officiant declared you husband and wife, all of these memories became a sweet reverie. You leaned in and whispered with a playful glint in your eye, “Are you going to kiss my lips or my cheek?”

Soonyoung blushed, clearly caught off guard by the question. A kiss on the cheek was typical in such moments since most arranged couples didn’t share a romantic bond. He stammered for a moment, his face flushing a deep shade of pink.

“Well… uh… I suppose the cheek would be safe,” he mumbled, eyes darting nervously.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, leaning closer. “But where’s the fun in that, Soonyoung?”

He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. The playful challenge in your gaze gave him the courage he needed. With a deep breath, he moved in, his hand gently cupping your face.

“I think I’ll go for the lips,” he whispered back, his voice steadying.

The crowd held its breath as Soonyoung leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was a simple kiss, not passionate, but filled with the warmth of years of friendship and the promise of a shared future. The applause that followed was thunderous, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his lips against yours.

As you pulled away, you both wore matching grins. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased,

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not bad at all. Actually, it was kind of nice.”

You linked arms, turning to face the crowd together. Your parents looked relieved and proud, while your friends were cheering loudly, clearly entertained by the spectacle. Soonyoung’s eyes met yours again, and there was a newfound spark there, full of possibilities.

As you both shared champagne with your parents, Soonyoung playfully asked, "No tequila tonight?" You were about to respond when his mom's voice cut in, "Tequila?"

Soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his mouth twisted into a frown as he tried to suppress his laughter. You quickly improvised, "Huh, h-he meant... tacos! We had tacos with tequila last time, remember?" You forced a smile, hoping it sounded convincing enough. His mom seemed satisfied with the answer, nodding along.

After mingling with guests—aka talking with people from work about the next meeting—you finally found a moment to escape the spotlight. You and Soonyoung crouched behind the kitchen, hiding from the crowd. The chefs chuckled at the sight of the newlyweds sneaking bites of food, but they made sure to hand you the best eats, knowing how overwhelming the day could be.

Soonyoung grinned, playfully nudging you. "We're so used to doing this at parties that we're practically pros now."

You nodded in agreement, a mischievous smile on your face. "Even though it's our own wedding party," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

He chuckled, looking at the gold ring on your finger with a sense of wonder. "Our wedding... I still can't believe it. Oh my god, we're grown adults now."

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to pat his head mockingly. "We've been grown adults for... kind of a long time already," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then leaned in closer, his voice softening. "Yeah, but it feels different now. Like, we're really starting something new."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. It was true. The reality of your situation was sinking in, but in a way, it felt comforting. You had each other, and that made everything seem a little less daunting. As you sat there, hidden away from the chaos of the celebration, it struck you how much you appreciated this moment—just the two of you, stealing away for a breather.

“Shall we follow tradition?” Soonyoung asks, a playful glint in his eyes. You frown, confused, as he reaches into the fridge and pulls out a bottle of tequila.

“Should tequila be kept in the fridge?” you ask, laughing at the sight.

“I hope so,” he replies, pouring the liquid into a cup. “This one is expensive.”

You raise an eyebrow, taking the cup from him. “The cheapest has the same effect,” you say, waiting for him to pour his own.

He chuckles, raising his glass. “But today’s a special day. We deserve the good stuff.”

You laugh it off, crossing your arms before taking the shot together. The familiar burn makes you both scrunch up your faces.

The wedding party was truly one of a kind. You and Soonyoung were a bit too excited, turning the waltz space into a wild dance floor.

At first, your parents were too embarrassed to join, especially at the sight of Soonyoung twerking on you. But soon, even the directors and business partners were on the dance floor, dancing and drinking extravagantly.

[...]

The next morning, you and Soonyoung were woken up by the buzzing of your phones.

Your makeup was smudged and stamped on the pillow, and you were still in your wedding dress. You scratched your scalp, feeling the bobby pins still tangled in your hair.

Soonyoung was no better; his shirt was unbuttoned to his belly button, his tie was loosened around his neck, and his hair looked like a bird's nest. He scratched his forehead groggily. Despite sharing the same bed, you both seemed unbothered by it.

You grabbed your phone and saw the company group chat flooded with messages:

“Wow, last night was incredible! Congrats to the newlyweds!”

“I can't believe we all danced that much! My feet are killing me. :')”

“Best wedding party ever! So happy for you guys!”

“My head is pounding, but it was totally worth it. ^^ Cheers to you both!”

“I’m still recovering from all that dancing. What a party!”

“Never thought I’d see the CEO breakdancing. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ”

You couldn't help but smile at the messages, as Soonyoung peeked over your shoulder, a sleepy grin spreading across his face.

“My head hurts,” Soonyoung complains, rubbing his temples.

You adjust the corset of your dress, feeling the tightness around your ribs. "My ribs are squeezed," you grumble, wincing as you try to get comfortable. "I can't believe I slept in this."

He yawns, glancing down at your leg. "You even kept the garter on," he points out, noticing the delicate band still around your thigh.

You crack your neck, feeling the weight of the long night. "Your sister gave it to me, so I put it on," you explain, lifting the voluminous skirt to reveal the bridal garter.

His eyes widen comically. "My sister?! Is there something I don't know?"

You frown at him, a bit confused. "You don’t know about the tradition?"

Soonyoung looks a bit lost, scratching his head. "I mean, it’s my first time getting married."

You sigh, laying back down. "Traditionally, the groom is supposed to take it off when... taking the virginity," you explain, watching his face turn a shade of pink.

His eyes dart around nervously, processing the information. "So... my sister thought I was... a virgin?"

You shrug, teasing, "Probably. Are you?"

He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Definitely not. And you?"

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Nope. Sorry to disappoint."

He chuckles, finally relaxing. "Good to know. Not that it matters, but... it's funny to think about how everyone just assumes stuff."

“Are you going to take it off?” you tease, stretching your leg up and wiggling your foot playfully. Your eyes glint mischievously as you watch Soonyoung’s reaction.

He scoffs, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “What, you mean right now?” His eyes flicker to your thigh, then quickly back up to your face, trying to gauge if you’re serious or just messing with him.

You arch an eyebrow, maintaining your playful expression. “Why not? It’s tradition, right? Don’t you want to fulfill your husbandly duties?” You stretch your leg out further, making the garter more visible.

Soonyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, but there’s a sparkle of joy in his eyes. He reaches out hesitantly, his fingers brushing lightly against your thigh. The touch sends a shiver to your skin, and you can’t help but giggle.

“What’s the matter?” you prod, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

He rolls his eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “Not at all,”

You bute your lip as his fingers graze the lacy fabric of the garter. His touch is feather-light, almost ticklish, and you squirm a bit under his hand.

Soonyoung smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You’re squirming,” he notes, his voice low and teasing. “Does that mean you’re nervous?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Me? Nervous? Please,” you retort, trying to sound confident despite the rapid beating of your heart. “I’m just surprised you’re taking so long. I thought you’d be an expert at this.”

He chuckles, sliding his hand a bit higher up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. “Oh, I am,” he replies smoothly. “Just savoring the moment.”

“Well, don’t take too long,” you murmur, your voice softening slightly. “We wouldn’t want to miss out on any other wedding traditions.”

Soonyoung grins, his fingers hooking under the garter. “Right, can’t forget those,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of naughtiness.

He gently tugs on the garter, slowly sliding it down your leg, his eyes never leaving yours.

As he finally slips the garter off, he holds it up triumphantly, a goofy grin on his face. “There, tradition fulfilled,” he declares, waving the garter like a trophy.

You laugh, shaking your head at his antics. “Congratulations,” you say, clapping mockingly. “You’ve successfully removed a piece of elastic lace. Truly, a remarkable achievement.”

He bows dramatically, playing along. “Thank you, thank you,” he says, flashing you a cheeky smile. “It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.”

You can’t help but laugh, the light-hearted banter making the moment feel even more special. Soonyoung’s hand lingers on your leg for a moment longer before he finally lets go.

As Soonyoung gets up, stretching his arms with a yawn, he announces, "I'm going to take a bath." He heads towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You sit up, still feeling the effects of last night's festivities, and shout after him, “Ya! Ladies first!”

From behind the closed door, you hear Soonyoung's laughter echo in the bathroom. “Sorry, didn’t hear you over the sound of me already starting the water!” he calls back, his voice filled with playful defiance.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself. It’s these little moments that make everything feel so natural and easy with him. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of running water stop, and Soonyoung emerges from the bathroom, his hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“All yours,” he says, grinning. “I left some hot water for you, too.”

You roll your eyes playfully, grabbing your toiletries and heading into the bathroom. The warm water is a welcome relief, washing away the remnants of makeup and the night's events. After a quick shower, you step out feeling slightly more human, though the hangover still lingers.

As you both finish getting ready, the thought of breakfast crosses your mind. However, just the idea of food makes your stomach churn. The hotel's breakfast spread is typically lavish, but today, the thought of greasy bacon and pastries is anything but appetizing.

Soonyoung, dressed in a casual outfit, catches your expression as you look at the food options. “Yeah, not feeling it either,” he says, rubbing his temple. “Let's skip it.”

You nod in agreement, both of you opting for just a coffee to stave off the worst of the hangover. With minimal conversation, you gather your belongings, checking out of the hotel and heading straight to the airport.

But one thing you definitely didn’t expect was Soonyoung falling asleep on your shoulder within the first thirty minutes of the flight. His head rested heavily against you, and his hand, seemingly by accident, was placed on your thigh.

As he softly snored, you couldn’t help but chuckle at how comfortable he looked. Anyone passing by would probably think you two were an old married couple, so naturally attuned to each other.

His head's weight pressed down on your shoulder, a constant reminder of his presence. Every now and then, you felt him subconsciously moisturizing his lips, a small, almost imperceptible movement that somehow made the moment even more cute.

You glanced at the small TV screen in front of you, trying to focus on the movie playing. It was a romance novel adaptation, the kind with sweeping gestures and grand declarations of love.

Normally, you might have rolled your eyes at the cliché, but with Soonyoung sleeping peacefully beside you, it felt oddly fitting.

As the plane cruised through the sky, you found yourself getting lost in the storyline, occasionally glancing at Soonyoung. His breathing was steady, a gentle rhythm that added to the soothing hum of the plane.

You shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable without disturbing him, but his hand tightened instinctively on your thigh, holding you in place. It was a small, protective gesture that made your heart flutter.

What you loved the most was when Soonyoung finally woke up, blinking sleepily and then immediately apologizing. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, his face flushed with embarrassment. You chuckled, assuring him it was okay, that he had every right to rest. He seemed genuinely mortified, even offering, “You can sleep on my shoulder too, I promise.”

You smiled at his earnestness, brushing it off with a light, “Maybe on the way back, then,” as the announcement came that you were about to land.

Once you arrived, Soonyoung was quick to grab the suitcases from the taxi, his efficiency a comfort as you made your way to the hotel's check-in counter.

The concierge’s eyes seemed to linger on you a little too long, his gaze sliding over your sundress and perhaps admiring more than just the attire.

As you waited for the receptionist, the concierge leaned casually on the counter, offering a friendly, yet slightly flirtatious, smile.

“First time here, ma’am?” he asked, his tone smooth and inviting.

“Well, yes...” you replied, keeping your voice polite but detached. You could feel the weight of his attention and tried to subtly stretch your hand, making sure the gold ring on your finger was clearly visible.

The concierge didn’t seem to get the hint, or perhaps he chose to ignore it. “You’re in for a treat. We’ve got some wonderful spots for—”

Before he could continue, you felt Soonyoung's presence behind you, a comforting warmth at your back. His body pressed lightly against yours, a subtle yet possessive gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. His hand slipped around your waist, resting just below your belly, the touch gentle but unmistakably protective.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Everything alright?” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity and a subtle edge.

You could almost feel the shift in the air. The concierge straightened up, his expression flickering between surprise and a polite smile. “Oh, just making sure your stay is perfect,” he said, his tone now more professional, eyes darting between you and Soonyoung.

“Thank you,” Soonyoung replied, his voice steady. His hand didn’t move from its spot on your belly, and the slight squeeze he gave was enough to send a clear message. You leaned back into him, feeling a rush of warmth at his silent claim.

The receptionist finally returned with your room keys, handing them over with a bright, “Welcome to our hotel! We hope you enjoy your stay.” With the keys in hand, you and Soonyoung made your way to the elevator.

As the doors closed, sealing you both from the world outside, you turned to Soonyoung with a smirk. “Looks like someone’s a little possessive.”

He grinned back, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just making sure everyone knows you’re taken.”

You tease him back with a playful smirk. “Well, it’s just a business marriage. You shouldn’t worry about stuff like that,” you say, your tone light and slightly mocking.

Soonyoung scoffs, turning his gaze to the side with a dramatic sigh. “You’re such an idiot,” he mocks, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“An idiot, hm?” you counter, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Well, I’m an idiot you agreed to marry, so I guess that makes you twice the fool.”

He raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Sharp tongue of yours, huh?”

You nod, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I’ve had years of practice.”

Soonyoung leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, it’s a shame. I was really looking forward to giving you something special once we got to our hotel room.”

Your curiosity piques immediately. “Something special? Like what?”

He grins, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, just something that’ll make you remember tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to gauge his meaning. “Something that’ll make me remember tonight, huh? Care to elaborate?”

Soonyoung chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, I think you already know what I’m talking about.”

You narrow your eyes, playfully challenging him. “Do I? Because you’re being awfully vague.”

He leans back, enjoying the game. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The teasing glint in his eyes only fuels your curiosity further. You know exactly what he’s implying, but you play along, eager to hear him say it outright.

“So,” you press, “what is it? Can you give me a hint?”

Soonyoung’s grin widens, clearly relishing the moment. “Let’s just say it’s something that’ll make you very excited. And not just because of the hotel’s decor.”

You roll your eyes, laughing softly. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’re being all mysterious.”

You sulk, trailing behind Soonyoung as he walks down the hallway toward your room. “Tell me, pleeeease,” you plead.

Soonyoung glances back at you with a mischievous smile. “Nope, not telling,” he says, his grin widening as he enjoys your insistence.

When you reach the door, Soonyoung unlocks it and pushes it open, gesturing for you to enter. You walk in, your eyes scanning the room briefly, but your focus quickly returns to Soonyoung. He places the suitcases by the door and then hops onto the bed, sprawling out with a relaxed sigh.

You stay standing by the door, your arms crossed over your chest, giving him a sulky, upset look.

“So,” Soonyoung says with a defiant glare, “am I forgetting something?”

You pout, trying to look as curious and frustrated as possible. “You’ve got me curious,” you admit, your eyes wide.

He laughs, brushing his hand through his hair with a playful sigh. “You’re almost throwing a tantrum over this?”

Soonyoung slides his hand down his abdomen slowly, getting lower and lower, until he's wrapping his fingers around his cock through his white shorts. The outline is clear, thick, and perfectly defined against the fabric.

He gives it a little shake, a sly smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.

You stare at him in shock, your knees almost giving way as you take in the sight. Your mouth opens slightly, but no words come out as you struggle to process what you're seeing.

Soonyoung’s smile widens, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Are you surprised?”

He chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Well, I figured it was time to give you a little hint,” he says, his hand still resting casually on his bulge. “So, do you think you’re ready to find out what else I have in store for tonight?”

You stammer, unable to look away from the outline of his cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. “Do we have to wait until nightfall?”

Soonyoung licks his lips, his gaze never leaving you. “Oh,” he drawls, “but you have to walk properly tonight, so we can go to the restaurant.”

Your eyes darken, a fire igniting within you. “You think I can’t handle all of this inside?”

He raises an eyebrows. “You shouldn’t,” he says, his voice dripping with devilishness. “It’s just a business wedding, after all.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Just a business wedding, huh? You really want to test me?”

Soonyoung chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “That’s right. Let’s see if you can keep your composure while we enjoy a nice dinner.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Challenge accepted,”

You’ve never been so turned on by someone’s mere presence before. The entire city tour was a cruel game of torture, all at Soonyoung’s hands.

In the taxi, his hand had wandered to your nude thigh, brushing against your skin like a feather. The way his fingers lightly caressed your inner leg made your heart race and your breath catch.

At the restaurant, the casual caresses continued. His leg pressed against yours under the table, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

The warmth of his skin against yours, the way he would occasionally let his knee slide up your thigh—each movement was like an electric current surging through you, leaving you squirming in your seat.

Walking through the jewelry fair was an exercise in restraint. As you admired the sparkling displays, Soonyoung’s hands kept drifting to the exposed skin of your back. His touch was light, almost playful, but each graze against your bare skin made you shiver with need.

You could barely focus on the dazzling jewels in front of you; your mind was consumed with the need for him.

By the time you were back in the elevator, you felt like you were on the edge of losing control. You could feel his eyes on you, sharp and hungry, as you pressed yourself against the wall.

You turned your face away, but you couldn’t hide the truth from him. Your nipples, straining against your dress, betrayed your arousal. Your legs, pressed tightly together, were a clear sign of your desperation. Even your unsteady breaths gave you away.

When you finally arrived at the hotel room, you barely made it inside before your desperation took over.

You throw him against the wall, hands planted firmly on his chest. The sound reverberates through the room, probably making the neighbors wonder what the hell is going on. His usually small eyes are wide, staring at you flaggerblasted.

Your breath mingles with his as you lean in, letting your lips barely graze his. Your voice comes out breathy, almost desperate, “Please. Stop teasing me.”

For a moment, he's stunned, caught off guard by the whininess in your voice and the look on your face—like you might break if he doesn't give you what you need right now.

It's a twisted scenario, considering you're his childhood friend turned wife is standing before him with an expression that borders on agony—an agony only he can alleviate.

For a moment, he looks like he might laugh, but he knows he's on the verge of losing all sense of control, but a part of him relishes the idea.

“Say it again,” he murmurs. He knows he's playing with fire, but he can't resist the thrill. His lips barely brush against yours, teasing, taunting.

“Soonyoung, I'm going to fucking cry if you don't—”

“Hold it,” he commands,you shudder, your breath hitching as he lifts your dress. And you comply, bunching the fabric in your fists to keep it out of the way.

His hand slides down the front of your panties, and your head falls back.

Soonyoung leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear. “You’re so fucking impatient,” he growls.

His fingers slide through your slick folds, finding you wet and wanting, throbbing everytime he rubs his fat fingers on you. “You’ve never even tasted my cock, and you’re already obsessed, huh?” He presses his thumb against your clit, making you gasp. “You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You whimper, your hips bucking against his hand. You can barely think straight. “Please, Soonyoung,” you beg again, your voice cracking.

He chuckles darkly, clearly relishing your desperation. “You want my cock so bad, don't you?” His fingers slide inside you, curling just right, and you cry out. “You want me to fuck you senseless? Make you scream my name?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. The words spill out of you, unfiltered and raw. “I want you to ruin me.”

“You’ve never had anyone fill you up like I will,” he says. “I’m gonna stretch you out so good, baby. You’ll be begging for more, even when you can’t take it.”

The dirty talk, the sheer vulgarity of his words, makes you even wetter. You feel like you're on the verge of losing control, and it's rousing.

Soonyoung's fingers pump in and out of you, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. His thumb rubs relentless circles on your clit, and you can feel the tension building, winding tighter and tighter.

“You’re gonna cum on my fingers first,” he whispers. “And then I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for days. Is that what you want, baby? To be fucked so good, you can’t even think about anything else?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you pant, your voice high and desperate. You can feel the orgasm building, Soonyoung's touch is all-consuming, driving you wild with every stroke.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.“So eager to please. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Here and there, Soonyoung is driving you insane with his body affixed to the wall, one strong arm holding your leg up. His wrist swiveling to match his fingers as they explore your weeping cunt and his repetitive rubbing of the areas that cause you to roll your eyes.

You cry out, gasping as you roll your hips onto his fingers, the orgasm making you forget what would be appropriate at the time. Soonyoung's fingers work you through it, drawing out every last drop of you.

As you come down from the high, you realize you're still clinging to him, fingers deep on his muscular shoulders, your breaths coming in hiccups. Soonyoung pulls his fingers out of you, and you feel a pang of loss.

Your legs feel like jelly, and you can barely stand. Soonyoung catches you, pulling you close.

Soonyoung's eyes rake over you, his smirk widening as he takes in the sight of your trembling legs. “You're trembling,” he chuckle. His gaze drops to the slick mess between your thighs, and he bites his lip, clearly reveling in the sight. “Better than this... you're literally dripping,” appreciating.

He lets your leg down, holding you firmly as he guides you back onto the bed. The plush mattress sinks under your weight.

“God forgive me,” he continues, “but if our mothers weren't in that dressing room that day, I would've fucked you right there in the store. With that princess veil of yours... I would've pinned you against the mirror and made you scream my name.”

Your mouth falls open. The image of him taking you into that bridal shop, surrounded by white lace and satin, hitting you like a punch to the gut.

You're not sure what shocks you more: his bold declaration or the way your body reacts to it, growing wetter with every word.

He smirks at your reaction.

“What's the matter, princess? Cat got your tongue?" He teases. His fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. “Or are you just too turned on to speak?"

He's right; you're completely at his mercy, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a response.

He strips off his shirt, revealing the sculpted lines of his torso, then shucks off his shorts. His erection strains against the fabric of his boxers, and he groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he palms himself.

“I could've fucked you on that altar,” he visualize. "In front of all those guests. Just to show everyone that no matter how arranged this marriage was, you're mine. No one else's.”

He opens his eyes, locking onto yours. “I would've spread you open right there, had you screaming my name, showing them all who you belong to."

His dirty words, the way he claims you with every syllable, makes your head spin.

Soonyoung's hand moves over his bulge, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don't even know how much I've wanted you,” he hisses. “How much I want to fuck you senseless, make you mine in every way.”

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. “And tonight, I'm going to do just that. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget about everyone else. Just me, and this cock inside you, filling you up until you can't think straight.”

You squirm, your body responding to his filthy promises. You can't tear your eyes away from him, your mind racing with the possibilities of what the night holds.

Soonyoung's fingers brush against the hem of your dress, and you shudder at the contact. “Take it off,” he orders, his voice rough. “I want you naked, spread out on this bed, ready for me.” His eyes bore into yours, and you know he's not just asking—he's demanding.

You slip your dress over your head, tossing it aside as you finally catch sight of Soonyoung completely naked. His hand moves over his erection, the cockhead glistening with precum. The sight makes you lick your lips.

“Can you—” he starts to ask, but you cut him off, not needing him to finish.

“Yes!” you nearly moan. His eyes darken, a smirk playing on his lips as you drop to your knees in front of him.

You take a moment to appreciate the sight before you. His cock is thick and veined, the head an angry red, glossy with precum. You can almost taste it just from looking.

Tentatively, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the tip, tasting the salty precum on your tongue. It's musky and slightly bitter, but it makes you want to choke on this cock. You swirl your tongue around the head, savoring the taste and the way his breath hitches above you.

Soonyoung's hand tangles in your hair, guiding you closer. “Yes, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “Just like that.”

Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. The texture of his cock is smooth yet rigid, the veins pulsating against your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, creating a tight seal as you bob your head, taking more of him with each movement.

His hips jerk forward involuntarily, and you hear a strangled moan escape his lips. “Shit, that feels so good,” he pants, his grip on your hair tightening. You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes meeting his. The sight of him looking down at you, his face twisted in pleasure, spurs you on.

You slide your hand up his thigh, wrapping it around the base of his cock to stroke what you can't fit in your mouth. Your other hand cups his balls, gently massaging them as you continue to suck him.

You hum around his length, sending vibrations through him. He shudders, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. “You're so fucking good at this,” he praises, his voice breathless. “So eager, so perfect.”

You moan around his cock at the praise. You take him deeper, pushing your limits as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly but push through, wanting to please him, wanting to show him how much you want this.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his hips bucking forward again. “You're going to make me cum if you keep doing that.”His voice is strained, you don't know if he's warning you or if he's desperate.

You don't let up, doubling your efforts. You suck harder, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head every time you pull back. Your hand continues to pump the base of his cock, matching the rhythm of your mouth. You can feel him throbbing, his cock pulsing with need.

Soonyoung's moans grow louder, more desperate. His breaths come in uneven pants, his body tense with the need for release. “Fuck, Y/N, I'm so close,” he warns, his voice breaking.

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his as you take him even deeper. You want to see him come undone, to watch him lose control because of you. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, and with one last swirl of your tongue, he lets out a choked moan.

He comes hard, his hips jerking as he spills into your mouth. The taste of his release floods your senses, warm and salty. You swallow every drop, savoring the way he trembles above you. His hand in your hair tightens, holding you in place as he rides out his orgasm.

His hand gently strokes your hair after, a contrast to the rough grip from moments before. You pull back, licking your lips and savoring the last taste of him.

He lifts you up effortlessly, his lips crashing into yours. He doesn't care that his cock was just in your mouth seconds ago or that his cum lingers on your tongue. The taste of himself on your lips makes him moan, the sound vibrating between you.

After a moment, he pulls back, one hand wrapping around your throat, not tight but firm enough to make you feel his presence. His eyes bore into yours, as he licks his sensitive lips.

“You were sucking me so good,” he rasps, “that I almost said ‘I love you’.”

A laugh bursts out of you, hearty and genuine, and he watches you with a smirk.

“I swear,” he continues, his tone playful. “if I'd known marrying you would come with benefits like this, I would've done it way sooner.” “I feel like I owe you something after that blowjob,” he says, his voice dropping into a deeper, more sultry tone.

You bite your lip, a dirty thought flashing through your mind, and Soonyoung picks up on it immediately. Soonyoung's gaze narrows, reading the filth in your expression

“What is it? What do you want?” he asks excitedly.

“Can you fuck me… doggy style?” you ask.

“Yes, I can,” The corners of his mouth twitch, barely holding back a grin.

You look up, pretending to be lost in thought, then say, “Can you fuck me in missionary?”

He nods again, biting his lip, his grip on your throat tightening just a little.

“Can you fuck me inside… the shower?”

He presses you tightly against him, his hand gripping your waist possessively, but your gaze still eating him whole.

“I can fuck you upside down, sideways, any way you want, baby,” he answers, his voice steady and confident. “Just say the word, and I'll make it happen.”

You moan in response. Too early to say that you're already dumb for his cock?

“Get on all fours and lift that pretty ass for me.”

As you crawl up the bed, you make sure to put on a show. You arch your back, lifting your ass higher, giving Soonyoung the view he wants. You wiggle it a little, teasing him.

The motion makes your pussy lips part slightly, already slick and ready for him. You can feel his eyes on you, burning with thirst. Without warning, his hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp. You let out a yelp. You know that mark will be there tomorrow, like a postmark, like a stamp, like a reminder of this moment, and the thought makes you even wetter.

He moves behind you, the bed dipping under his weight. You feel his hands on your hips, gripping you firmly as he positions himself. You can't help but push back against him, seeking more contact.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters, running his hands over the curves of your ass, squeezing the flesh and kneading it roughly. He spreads you open, taking in the sight of your wetness. “Look at how ready you are for me. You're dripping, baby.”

You moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. “Please, Soonyoung, I need you.”

“Fuck, you sound so desperate,” he taunts, positioning himself behind you. His cock slides against your folds, teasing you, making you whimper. “Beg for it. Beg for my cock.”

“Please, Soonyoung, fuck me,” you whine. “I need your cock inside me, please. I can’t wait any longer.”

He doesn't tease, doesn't make you wait any longer. He thrusts in with one hard, deep stroke, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion makes you cry out, a slight discomfort as your walls stretch around him. But it makes your toes curl.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, gripping your hips as he starts to move. “So fucking tight and wet for me. You feel that? That’s my cock stretching your pussy.”

You moan loudly, the pleasure building with each thrust. “Yes, Soonyoung, I feel it. It feels so good. Fuck me harder.”

He picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. The sudden burst of pleasure makes you gasp, your body jolting.

He pulls back slowly, only to slam back in, setting a rough, punishing rhythm, making you roll your eyes back.

He's so deep, hitting spots you didn't even know existed. Each thrust makes you see stars, and you can't help but moan loudly, not caring if the entire hotel hears you. The stretch, the fullness, it's all so overwhelming, so fucking good.

“Come on,” he urges, voice a low growl. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you squeeze this cock.”

It's all too much. The feel of his cock, his fingers on your clit, the dirty words spilling from his lips—it all sends you over the edge. The second orgasm of the night making you feel already exhausted. Your voice hoarse, as you feel yourself sloppier between your legs.

There's no mercy in his movements; he's fucking you through your high, pushing you beyond your limits. Each time he hits your cervix, a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain ripples through you, making your arms tremble uncontrollably.

You try to hold yourself up, but your strength falters. With a soft cry, your arms give out, and your chest falls against the bed. Soonyoung lets out a low chuckle, a smug grin spreading across his face as he watches you crumble beneath him. Even with your body slack, you're impossibly tight around him, your pussy squeezing him like a vice.

Soonyoung’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continues to pound into you from behind. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you, making your walls clench involuntarily around him.

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear, and you can hear the pride in his voice as he coos, “Aww, look at you. So fucking helpless, so fucking wrecked. You can’t even hold yourself up, can you?”

You can barely muster a response, a breathy whimper escaping your lips as you feel the tears start to stream down your cheeks. It’s an almost incredulous feeling, the tears mixing with the sweat on your face.

You’ve never been fucked like this before, never been pushed to the brink and then beyond, your body betraying you as it trembles under his control. It’s a raw, visceral experience that leaves you gasping for air, your mind a hazy blur of feel.

Soonyoung notices the tears, and his smirk grows wider. “Look at you, crying for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Is it too much, baby? Too fucking good? Love being fucked so hard you can’t even think straight?”

His hand moves from your hip to your hair, tangling his fingers in it and pulling your head back, forcing you to arch your back even more. The angle shifts, and he hits that perfect spot inside you, making you moan loudly, your voice cracking with the intensity of it all.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, his hips snapping forward with even more force. “God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard. It’s like your pussy doesn’t want to let me go.” He punctuates his words with deep, hard thrusts that leave you reeling, each one sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your body.

“So pretty when you cry,” he continues, his tone almost taunting. “I could do this all day, just watch you fall apart on my cock” His words are filthy, degrading, but they ignite something inside you, a desperate need for more.

The way he speaks to you, the way he claims you with each word and each thrust, is addictive.

You can’t hold back your sobs. “Please,” you manage to choke out, not even sure what you’re begging for anymore.

More, less, anything—just something to ease the dizzying sensation coursing through you.

He laughs softly, a dark, knowing sound that makes your skin prickle. “Please what, baby? You want me to stop? You want me to fuck you harder?”

He pulls out almost completely, the emptiness leaving you gasping, and then slams back in with a force that makes your whole body jolt.

“You’re so fucking greedy. Can’t get enough, can you? You want this cock to ruin you, want me to fuck you so good you’ll feel it for days.”

All you can do is moan and sob, your body shuddering with each thrust as he pounds into you. The bed creaks under the force of his movements, it’s dirty, raw, and utterly nasty.

“Gonna make you cum again,” he murmurs, his voice a dark promise.

And as you feel the tension building inside you again, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your belly—you know he’s right.

He lays you gently on the bed, your back sinking into the mattress. Your face, flushed and glistening with sweat, looks completely wrecked, completely exhausted. Soonyoung feels a brief flicker of pity, but it quickly dissipates as you babble out your dirty words, barely coherent but dripping with need. “Please... Soonyoung... more, need you so bad... fuck…”

He smirks, spreading your wobbly legs apart, exposing the slick, swollen mess between them. “You can barely form a sentence, and yet you still want more.”

He slides his cock back inside you, stretching you open once more.

Soonyoung's thumb finds your clit again, and he begins to work it in slow, light-touch circles. The sensation is maddening, a delicious contrast to the deep, methodical thrusts of his cock.

He watches your face intently, drinking in every expression, every gasp and whimper."That's it, baby," he coos. “Let me see that pretty face when you cum.”

You can barely keep your eyes open, your body overly sensitive from the previous orgasms, but he doesn't let up.

His other hand moves to your chest, fondling your breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple before sliding up to wrap around your throat. This time, the grip is firm, real, and you can feel the delicious pressure as he chokes you just enough to make your head spin.

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving your face.

You cling to him, your arms wrapping tightly around his body, pulling him closer as if you could merge with him, become one. The scent of sweat and skin mingling in the air—it all consumes you.

Your body is trembling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core, a white-hot band of pressure that threatens to snap. Soonyoung's moans are louder now, but they seem distant, like they're coming from underwater, muffled by the roaring in your ears.

His pace quickens, and you feel yourself losing control, your mind slipping away from the physical world. The room, the bed, even Soonyoung—all of it fades into the background.

There's only the blinding, all-encompassing pleasure that fills every nerve, every cell in your body. It's like being pulled under a wave, the sensation crashing over you with a force that's almost violent.

Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, and you can feel the muscles in your abdomen clenching, the buildup to your orgasm reaching its peak.

And then, it hits. The climax rips through you, a white-hot explosion that leaves you gasping, the world narrowing down to the blinding sensation of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Your back arches off the bed, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your vision goes white. The intensity is mind-numbing, erasing everything else from your mind except the overwhelming euphoria that pulses through you.

Your body shakes with the force of it, your legs quivering, toes curling as the pleasure radiates outward from your core. You can feel the slickness between your thighs, the way your walls flutter and squeeze around Soonyoung, pulling him deeper inside you.

Soonyoung's name falls from your lips in a choked sob, your voice hoarse and trembling.

You slowly come back to reality, feeling the weight of Soonyoung's body on top of you, his cum warm and sticky between your bellies.

Soonyoung pants loudly, trying to catch his breath. He lifts his head slightly to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes despite the satisfied smile on his lips. “You okay, wifey?” he asks.

You manage a weak smile, still feeling the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. “I’m okay, hubby,”

His smile widens, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmurs. “You were amazing.”

You chuckle softly, the sound a bit strained. “You weren’t too bad yourself,” you tease, your hand coming up to rest on his back, feeling the muscles still taut from effort.

He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your own. “Glad I could satisfy my wife on our first night together,”

“Think we should clean up?” Soonyoung asks after a while.

“Probably,” you agree, though neither of you makes a move to get up just yet. You’re too content, too wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, Soonyoung shifts, carefully pulling away from you. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver slightly. He helps you sit up, his hands gentle and supportive as you both make your way to the bathroom.

The weight of the wedding ring on your finger feels heavier now, more symbolic than ever. It’s not just a piece of jewelry; it’s a constant reminder of the commitment you’ve made and the life you’re building together.

Soonyoung, despite his own exhaustion, is kneeling beside the tub, gently washing you. His focused expression as he works to make sure you’re clean and comfortable. The sight of him, so dedicated and caring, makes your heart swell.

You feel a pang of guilt as you see the tiredness etched on his face, a reminder of how much he’s given for you, both physically and emotionally. Your legs, still trembling from the aftermath of the passion, had given up on you, leaving you reliant on him. The thought of him taking care of you, even in his weariness, makes you feel both grateful and a bit ashamed.

“Hey,” you say softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “You don’t have to do this. I can manage on my own.”

Soonyoung looks up at you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “I want to,” he says quietly. “You took care of me earlier, and now it’s my turn to take care of you. Besides, it’s kind of nice, being able to do this for you.”

You look him in the eye and sense the truth in his words. His warm, comforting smile belies the weariness that is evident in the lines on his face.

[...]

As you and Soonyoung lie together in bed, the room is quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional sigh from either of you. The memories of what just happened still lingers in the air, making both of you feel a bit shy and stunned.

As Soonyoung lays his head on your chest, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He sighs contentedly, his fingers lightly tracing patterns around your breast.

“So,” he begins, his voice tinged with both surprise and a hint of playfulness, “when I hinted at what I wanted, I honestly didn’t think you'd go for it. I was kind of... hoping, but also preparing for a rejection.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers running through his hair. “Oh really? And why not?”

“Well, for one, you’re ridiculously hot. I didn’t think you’d be that into it right off the bat.”

You giggle, feeling a rush of confidence. “Oh, come on. Why wouldn’t I? You’re hot, and let’s be honest, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Damn, so you think I’m hot, huh? And here I was thinking I’d have to put in a little more effort.” He rises to look at you, but you make him lay again, your cheeks flushed.

“I can’t believe we managed to go from ‘I do’ to ‘Let’s fuck’ in just a few days. We really don’t waste any time, do we?” You say, grinning.

“Yeah, I guess I underestimated how much I’d resist you, but I knew I was in trouble from the moment we got married… I thought I’d be a strong soldier, holding out a bit longer.”

He hums thinking.

“I’m surprised I managed to hold out for as long as I did.” he finishes.

You raise an eyebrow, a naughty smile playing on your lips. "Well, I guess you’re not as disciplined as you thought. Seems like you fell for me quicker than you’d like to admit.”

Soonyoung’s eyes sparkle. “You’ve got me completely hooked.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, your hand resting on his cheek. “Poor soldier. Captured by the enemy and all. What will you do now?”

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. "I guess I’ll just have to surrender to you completely.”

“Even the strongest can fall. And let’s be real, I’m pretty good at making sure my soldiers surrender.” You shrugged, smirking.

He bursts into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, you really know how to make a guy feel like a total pushover.”

“I plan on keeping you hooked, you know—well, at least until the next time we have a ‘conversation’ like tonight."

“Well, if this is what marriage looks like, I think I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”

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harmoonix · 1 year ago

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╔═══❖•ೋ ೋ•❖═══╗

Iconic Astrology Notes Part II

⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

✵ - The ascendant in your ascendant persona chart shows how you are inside, how you act more Inside while your natal ascendant shows how you are on the outside ( it works for me so much🌃)

✵ - Eris asteroid (136199) aspecting ascendant SHOWS big power for standing up for yourself, no one can tell you what to do honestly

✵ - Also Eris asteroid aspecting the Venus cannot stand when someone messes up with their partners, like they are top biggest defenders of their lovers

✵ - Eris aspecting Mercury can tend to cuss people off and to end them with words because they can really be aggresive verbally, like starting a fight with them is like being in the middle of a hurricane

✵ - Eris aspecting Moon can have chaotic feelings and feel multiple things at once but these aspects are also very strong for defending what they love and what they want to achieve

✵ - Lilith aspecting Moon can be intense, especially if you have mommy issues but is more than that, this is powerful, you are able to control your feelings very well and to manage to not show your emotions

✵ - Lilith - Mars aspects are soo good at attracting the opposite sex to them, especially if you are attracted to men with this aspect you drain them into you

✵ - Have you ever been to a party with someone who has a Sagittarius or Leo Moon? Or someone who has Moon in the 5th or 9th house? These people really know how to party like, partying and their socializing time is everything "If you see us on the floor you'll be watching all night"

✵ - Saturn/Venus/Sun or Moon in the 7th house = GURL you know you're getting the hottest thing called spouse ever on this earth right??

✵ - Sun aspecting Chiron be like "People will never feel how I feel and will never understand what I feel and why I feel some things,I guess i have to not tell my pain to anyone" - They are def some of the strongest people born

✵ - Ascendant sextile/trine/conjunct Pluto are too iconic for this world to have, so many celebrities have these in their birthcharts

✵ - Nobody but nobody ever can tell someone with Libra or Leo Rising that they look bad because they will embarras themselves, like you tell the beauty icon that they look bad? BFR

✵ - Aquarius Placements wil always be the definition of uniqueness in your birth chart and shows what makes you unique, they aret the salvation

✵ - Aquarius Risings are rare at personality. Notice how is always something unique with the celebrities who have this specific rising sign? They are natural rarities and people don't appreciate them enough

✵ - Capricorn Risings have the same effect because of their authenticity. They keep it authentic and creative, do not be afraid to show your true colors to people

✵ - Gemini/Virgo Risings look more young than they actually are, this thing can make them more attractive because it will be hard to guess your age. Also don't tell your age let people guess your age for more mystery

✵ - Sagittarius Risingsss and their appealllll like gurlll you are magnetic, your ruler Jupiter grants you luck for your whole life since your birth and until your death you have luck written in stars, I love ittt

✵ - I should give a raise to Moon - Pluto aspects for being so misterious and hypnotizing, they are like a shadow who follows around but you never know where it is, also their eyes are extremely beautiful

✵ - Sagittarius Placements are so Iconic for being this honest,I mean you don't want honesty in your life and you choose to be Delulu? Good, always be friends with Sagittarius Placements cause they will spill the tea

✵ - Capricorn Sun/Rising/Moon and the dark femme fatale aesthetic fits so good together like gurlll, black is definitely theirs, they dominate when they wear black (Even Saturn approves)

✵ - Get yourself a bestie with Leo placements so you can talk hours about fashion and gloss, trust the process they have so many good points

✵ - Asteroid Sirene (1009) in Gemini/Virgo will use their enchanting voice to charm the people they want to attract, the native has such an enchanting voice

✵ - Asteroid Sirene (1009) in Scorpio/Cancer/Pisces and GURLLL you really give off Sirene vibes, your eyes, your appearance are enchanting (I imagine them being Vanessa from the little mermaid)

✵ - Juno sextile/trine/conjunct Midheaven and the way they will show off to everyone what a lovely relationship they have will be EPIC, these people have the relationship everyone dreams

✵ - Juno at 5°, 17°, 29° degrees.. Who's gonna tell her?? HOW iconic your spouse can be?? LIKE they will be there for everything at the right moment

✵ - Lilith aspecting Mars (all aspects) often can find the men to be more attracted to them, like a magnet, even the men you don't want to have around you

✵ - Ascendant aspecting Venus (all aspects) are extremely pretty, they are all blessed by Venus in different ways to express their beautiful nature and their gifts

✵ - Hurting someone with heavy Capricorn/Aquarius placements = Karma coming for you when you don't expect it, is like something that never stops until you acknowledge you hurt these people

✵ - Venus at 10°,11°, 22°, 23° degrees can get vey good looking spouses, also mature aswell and veryyy serious about their relationships, they are the type of people " We don't break up we fix it together" (Saturn rules these degrees)

✵ - For those interested in men...Jupiter at 5°, 17°, or 29° degrees can have the same effect, meeting that partner who is extremely hot and smart in the same time, (they will have a good personality)

✵ - Scorpio Sun/Moon/Rising and their mystery is something else, they are remarcabile at hiding secrets and they are extremely loyal to their lovers

✵- Lilith or True Lilith in Leo/Libra/Scorpio/Aquarius are so mesmerizing , when you encounter them you be have this energy of wanting to talk with them and make a contact

✵ - Venus aspecting Mercury, CAN I tell how iconic your voice is??? Everyone is always so impressed by your voice and the way you talk is so gracious

✵ - Venus in Capricorn/Taurus/Virgo and LET IT flow with money, Venus is these signs feels like a "Material Girl" they are having money, style, everything

✵ - Lilith or True Lilith in the 7th house and their mesmerizing power to attract people is INSANE, I tell you is insane how many people can be interested in them

✵ - Air Moons and their style in music is everything, music is bounded to them fr. Highly artisans natives, they can even be good compositors at making and writing music

✵ - Juno at Pisces Degrees (12°, 24°) will most likely meet their true soulmate in this life and create a bound with them. Is written in your destiny and these degrees confirm it

✵ - North Node in 7th house in your Chiron Persona Chart indicates your destiny in order to heal is to have an healthy relationship and an healthy partner

⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

✨ ICONIC placements post for y'all 😍🤞🏼 enjoyyyy ✨

💥💋 Everyone is iconic in different ways but with same knowledge 💋💥

💥💋 I hope you all have a good day full of good moments with the people you love 💋💥

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

With love, Harmoonix 💋

2K notes · View notes

erodasfishtacos · 8 months ago

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Boredom & Blind Dates [pt I]

summary: yn is a good friend, who's willing to go on a blind date so that her friend can try to pull the man of her dreams. the new bigshot doctor at the hospital she's works. the dinner isnt as charming as she hoped

word count: 5k

warnings: angst

author's note: hii! this was based off a request. the rest will be posted on patreon and there’s already another part up :)

You can subscribe for $3 USD a month here

Victoria was a friend that YN had made in college when they were both studying completely opposite majors but happened to be roomed in the same two-bed dorm.

They clicked instantly and just like their majors, they were also exact opposite in their personalities too but it somehow just meshed perfectly together.

Victoria was a social butterfly who did not have a fear of being the center of attention, going after whoever she wanted (and typically pulling them), and her confidence was impressive.

Despite how smart Victoria was, she had a tendency to come off a bit ditzy, and has been called an air-head more than twice in YN’s presence.

The boys in more prestigious majors like law and medicine usually didn’t find her carefree attitude as appealing.

While Tori snagged the frat boys, YN steered clear of them which worked because they had never once had a crush on the same man.

After graduation, it only made sense to move in together because Seattle was a ridiculously overpriced city but their job wages were competitive.

Victoria was a nurse, she worked on a surgery recovery wing, and complained about her job constantly because of the crabby patients and long hours.

YN worked behind a desk all day, very rarely having to interact with anyone but if she did - it was all virtual from home.

She was the head accountant for a social media marketing company which was a pretty high position for the few years of experience she had.

YN had always been serious, more mature for her age, and always excelled above everyone else in her grade.

It hadn’t been a surprise when she was valedictorian or made summa cum laude in her undergraduate and masters degree with ease.

YN didn’t party, didn’t love socializing out in clubs but would go when Victoria pressured her enough to do so, and it was fine.

YN had been so involved in establishing her career, creating a successful life, and making a name for herself that she didn’t have time for the things Victoria did.

Dating app hookups, one night stands from the bar, and casual flings that only lasted a few weeks was how Tori rolled.

Typically, at least once a month, she was bawling to YN about the latest dickhead who treated her like she was disposable but kept going for the same type.

YN had empathy to an extent, always uncorked the wine and half-listened to her rants about chivalry being dead while she was still thinking about an account she needed to work on because the deadline was coming up.

YN liked to think she lived vicariously through Victoria’s stories which worked for her because then she didn’t have to experience those things herself.

YN had been sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on the wide arm as she scrolled through work emails while catching up on her guilty pleasure reality show.

It was nearly ten at night but she was waiting for a reply from a customer with a time difference, work could sometimes be a whole day and night ordeal.

There was no question that YN was uptight, rarely - if ever relaxed, and did not have much time for anything other than what put a hefty sum in her bank account every two weeks.

Victoria tumbled through the front door in a way that is uniquely her - like a hurricane.

Her keys jingling, her water bottle bumping and sloshing water as she drops her purse on the floor unceremoniously with a chapstick rolling out.

She tosses all of her items in a messy pile on the ground with her bag, kicking off her tennis shoes, and nearly prances into the living room.

YN blinks over at her, the excitement of her arrival was a routine now, she no longer gets annoyed that her best friend makes an entrance like that each time.

“Babe, guess what,” Victoria squeals as she sits down right next to her on the couch, still in her magenta colored scrubs and her mascara smudged near her eyes.

“What?” YN replies as she mindlessly clicks refresh in her email, wishing for this message with the information she needs to appear.

“Our new Chief of Medicine started today! He was the head of neurology at another hospital. A literal brain surgeon which, of course I’ve met others but he’s like…the best of the best. They write news articles about him, his studies in medical journals, he’s a big deal,” Victoria is still excited as she nearly bounces in her spot, shaking YN’s laptop.

YN puts a hand up to make sure her computer doesn’t topple, still nonplussed as she looks at her friend, “What does this have to do with you? Is it just because he’s famous in the medical world?”

“No, he’s fucking gorgeous too. I didn’t think you were allowed to be as smart as he is while looking like he just walked off a runway during Paris Fashion Week,” Tori giggles as her cheeks go a bit pink, “He’s the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen.”

“Tori,” YN sighs, clicking her refresh again - nothing, “Again, what is this information leading to?”

“Well I bumped into him today, literally, in the hallway. We spoke briefly, he was polite but serious, and I felt like he was flirting with me. I feel like I have a chance with him,” Her roommate tells her, that same confidence present as ever that she can pull this big shot doctor.

“Good luck with that. I’m sure he’s married with kids,” YN replies somewhat dismissively, unamused that this is how her friend spends her time.

“Nope,” Tori quips back happily, “I googled him. He just made the New York Times list as one of the most eligible bachelors in medicine. Single as they come.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date someone who also worked in medicine,” YN reminds her, clicking refresh once again to no results.

“He’s the exception. If I could settle down with a fuckin neurosurgeon, chief medical officer like come on that would be my biggest achievement,” Victoria pulls out her cell phone, tapping across the screen.

And YN just…cannot relate.

YN only fell in love once.

Where she could fantasize about a life with that person, marriage, kids, a house but it was all fantasy as they were never official in that way.

It was crushed and YN made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t let herself dream like that again.

“Do you want to see a picture?” Victoria asks as she looks for an image to show.

As a stroke of luck, YN’s work phone starts buzzing, and it’s the client she was waiting for to email her, “I’m sure he’s as attractive as you say, Tor. I have to take this.”

Her friend mumbles something about her being in a relationship with work which is honestly not that far off at this point.

However, it gives her an excuse to lock herself in her office for a few hours to avoid the ideas of love, Victoria’s fantasy world, and think about nothing but numbers and percentages.

The next few weeks blend together for YN.

Every few days she actually catches up on her work.

Every few days Victoria recounts her very purposefully crafted run-ins with the chief medical officer to shoot her shot.

Victoria has always been forward, asking bluntly for what she wants but with such a seemingly intimidating man, she finally has met her match.

Her roommate deems the doctor as ‘playing hard to get’ but YN starts to wonder if she’s imagining the spark between them or if it’s truly there.

She talks about times where the doctor flat out ignores her in the hallway but brushes it off that he was extremely busy on a pressing issue.

But then there are times where he will pull her aside, gently by the wrist and ask her about how her day was going, and appear to be interested in her answers.

YN loved her friend but was wildly uninterested in these events, the only thing that kept her curiosity lingering was if she was actually going to snag the head of the biggest hospital in Seattle.

She doesn’t hear much for a week or two.

At least three months have passed since the doctor started.

And this finally appears to be a payoff when Victoria comes home with her usual hurricane routine of leaving a trail of her belongings as she comes through the front door.

“Oh my god, oh my god. Close your laptop and look at me!” Victoria announces dramatically as she rushes over to the couch, taking it upon herself to close the lid of YN’s work computer.

“Tori,” YN scolds with a grumble, she really didn’t appreciate it when her friend interrupted her work flow in the middle of her meticulously constructing a report.

“Hush,” She replies, brushing off her concerns, and patting YN’s thighs, “I need the absolute biggest, most massive favor from you ever. And I really need you to agree, I’ll owe you for eternity.”

This didn’t sound good.

YN blinks at her, expression still unamused as ever.

“Okay. I am going on a date with the chief,” Victoria squeals, high-pitched and loud, “But it’s a double-date, he was telling me he’s looking for a date for his friend. I offered you and he invited us all to dinner at The National.”

Fancy.

And YN tries to settle the itching annoyance at her friend offering her up without her approval but unfortunately it was a very Victoria-like thing to do.

Despite how uptight YN could be, she had a soft spot for her friend and would do anything within her to make her happy so instead of lecturing her about setting her up, YN agrees.

YN thinks about it as the days pass until the date, what’s stopping her from actually giving this a try?

The only information she received about her blind date was that he was also a doctor, orthopedics, and his name was Mitch.

YN dresses nicer than she had originally planned, in a form fitting black dress that shaped her chest phenomenally, making her smaller tits look full and lifted.

It also defined her backside well too, making it rounded and voluminous in a way that it normally didn’t look in her regular outfits.

YN hadn’t been with anyone in over a year, not even a casual hookup because she didn’t do those - she did commitment.

Maybe Mitch would be the one.

YN wasn’t one for magical thinking like her best friend but maybe this is what optimism was supposed to be like as opposed to her normal pessimist outlook.

Victoria dressed stunning as well, albeit a bit more revealing which was her go to, cut-outs along her ribs and the hem was nearly to her bum cheeks so she couldn’t bend over without revealing all of her bits and pieces.

YN was sure that the doctor she was pining after would take her home with her that night but she also knows Victoria is possibly looking at this to become serious.

It was all up in the air.

The National was a quiet restaurant, where business meetings were held and deals were made.

Everyone dressed in expensive outfits that made YN and Victoria’s seem a bit out of place but they blended in well enough.

Neither have been to the location before because it was reservation-only and you had to have enough of a name in Seattle to bother calling.

The fact that the chief was able to get them a table, at relatively short notice was flex in itself, showing off what clout he held in the community.

YN wasn’t impressed, per se, felt like it was a bit-show off but nevertheless it was a nice experience that she’d never likely have again after this night.

Victoria gives the hostess their name before they’re being guided towards the back of the restaurant, it lit dimly enough that it would be hard to see the menu.

As they arrive at the table, there’s two meticulous dressed men sit across from one another, both handsome in different ways.

However, one has a big smile and stands up whilst the other stays seated with a scowl that seems permanently etched on his face - light wrinkles to show for it.

The man who stands up reaches for YN’s hand, kissing the back of it, and introducing himself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, darling. I’m Mitch.”

“YN,” She replies even though he already knows, allowing the kiss and giving him a polite smile back as he pulls out her chair for her.

Victoria walks around the table, somewhat awkward as her date doesn’t get up or offer to move her chair out, only a curt, “Hello, Victoria. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” Tori blushes easily, YN has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the interaction, she always fell for the rudest, douchey men on Earth.

This doctor was no different as he says back in his chair, shoulders broad, and back straight, head held high as he watches Mitch help YN in her seat.

“Thank you,” YN brushes her fingers against Mitch’s shoulder as he sits down, making eye contact with her date once again.

He had these sincere brown eyes, a shy smile, and his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail as he nods at her.

Mitch wasn’t her type, though she wasn’t picky, and was willing to give anyone a chance - he just wouldn’t be someone she would pick herself.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

“What’s good here?” YN asks Mitch as she opens her menu, it was a small list of entrees, most that YN had only seen on cooking shows or never even heard of.

“I haven’t been here. Styles here is a regular but that’s because he’s the big name ‘round here, well according to London Times - everywhere,” Mitch teases as he glances up at his friend.

Styles doesn’t even lift his lip in a half-smile, his eyes dart to YN before his friend, “The Steelhead Trout is good as is the Filet Migon.”

YN’s eyes trace back over the menu, heart seizing a bit as the numbers next to the entree - realizing that was the price was a bit of shell shock.

She knew that Mitch would pay for her but she felt guilty about ordering something that was well over a hundred and fifty dollars when she would never pay that for dinner herself.

“I think I’ll just get the thai salmon,” YN replies as she glances over, it was the cheapest option, not by much but still.

“There’s peanuts in the sauce,” The doctor tells her as he glances up from his own menu to look at YN.

YN brow furrows at him, lips turning down, and about to say something when he adds, “Victoria informed me that you have a severe peanut allergy and to choose a restaurant that could prepare your food properly.”

YN blinks to process before looking over to Victoria, “Thanks, Tor.”

“I’d rather not see freshman year thanksgiving happen again,” Victoria jokes but there is some real concern there from such a traumatic incident.

YN had accidentally come into contact with some type of nut that sent her into an anaphylactic shock.

They couldn’t find her epipen for a good two minutes until they did and were able to administer her medication until she could make it to the hospital.

Victoria had anxiety about food in their house for ages, paranoid about her own contact with the allergen, and always made sure everyone was aware of YN’s condition.

“I’ll get the filet then,” YN sighs, giving up on picking a cheap option as she closes her menu, and the waiter pours a red wine into her glass.

YN was not in the mood to drink, preferring to sip on her water instead as Victoria and Mitch emptied their first glass quickly.

Victoria’s date sipped more sophisticatedly on his, swirling it like a proper snob before taking a minuscule sip as if he was savoring it.

Mitch seemed very interested in YN, asking multiple questions about her work and personal life, he put an arm around the back of her chair which YN didn’t necessarily mind as they spoke.

From what YN could see, Victoria was not having as much luck with her date as their conversation appeared strained, her friend was doing ninety percent of the talking, and Harry was nodding with an expression of boredom.

After the soup and salads arrive, Mitch and Harry start to chat about something going on with the hospital protocols.

Victoria tries to add in, he doesn’t acknowledge her but Mitch does instead after an uncomfortable pause of silence between them.

YN stays quiet, unable to add anything, and after a moment, Mitch huffs out a laugh, “Enough work talk, we’re excluding YN.”

Harry raises his eyebrow at her, “Need to be the center of attention?”

“Hey,” Mitch frowns, rubbing at YN’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m sorry if I just-“

“You’re fine,” YN waves her hand dismissively, giving her friend’s date a displeased glance that Harry returns the scowl just like he’d been doing all night.

Victoria is oblivious, as she tends to be, and is much too focused on keeping her date’s attention to worry about anything else.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks her, randomly cutting off a story that Victoria was telling about a patient that eloped recently.

“I’m a head accountant for a social media marketing company. What about you?” YN returns the question with sickeningly sweet politeness.

She felt like Harry was a pompous prick, taking pride in his rankings, education, and had a better than attitude that YN really felt was unappealing.

To act like she didn’t know shit about him was the perfect way to irritate him apparently.

It works.

The way his teeth clench together as the wrinkle between his brow deepens further, he straightens his suit jacket before leaning forward to appear casual.

“I’m the Chief Medical Officer of The Hospital of Seattle, a neurosurgeon specializing in spinal cord injury as well as stroke and trauma, I own three outpatient medical practices, as well as instruct other neurosurgeons on new techniques and equipment,” Harry boasts, to be fair, it was extremely impressive.

There was no doubt that the man sitting across from her was extremely intelligent, she’s probably never been around anyone as smart as him but it didn’t excuse his attitude.

You can be intelligent and humble at the same time.

Apparently Doctor Styles did not get the memo.

“That’s nice,” YN replies as she takes a very small sip of wine, even though she was impressed, it didn’t reflect in her bored tone.

Harry scoffs, sitting back, and licking the front of his teeth.

His eyebrow was raised as he repeated in disbelief, “That’s nice? Nothing else, huh?”

Victoria’s eyes dart nervously between the two, she grips Harry’s bicep, “I think it’s the most impressive thing I’ve heard. Not to mention the medical journals you wrote for or the volunteer work.”

YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, tampering down a smile at getting a reaction out of her friend’s date, just as she had hoped.

“S’really not as impressive when the person needs to flaunt their accomplishments so extravagantly,” YN shrugs as she puts down her wine glass, nonchalant as ever, and acting as if she was being casual.

Tori delivers a kick to her shin underneath the table, along with a scolding look for her to drop the attitude with Harry because it was ruining their date.

YN pulls back because she did feel guilty at getting into it with this doctor who Tori was trying to pull and she wasn’t increasing the chances with the snide comments.

Harry is about to respond, his ringed fingers clenched on the table, and there were tattoos peeking out from the cuffs of his suit that were very undoctorlike, “You know what I think-?”

“Uhm,” Mitch coughs awkwardly to break up the tension that was getting thick and cloying between everyone at the table, “Victoria, where did you get your nursing degree from?”

The conversation breaks off, Victoria and Mitch start chatting as YN and Harry remain pretty much silent throughout the appetizers.

Victoria is forward, trying to touch her date when possible.

A brush of his hand here, a squeeze of his bulky bicep there.

Though Harry doesn’t shrug her off, he also doesn’t return the favor at all.

He is nearly statuesque, unmoving, and able to sit very still for long amounts of time.

Of course, maybe that is overly obvious because of how all over the place her friend was at all times, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes without needing to adjust the way she’s sitting or fiddle with something on the table.

YN wonders if this whole thing was set up for Mitch and Harry just settled for being on a date with Victoria to help his friend out.

The thought hurt her to think about because she wanted better for her friend.

YN enjoyed having a job that paid her well, more than most people her age were making but it didn’t define who she was.

Doctor Styles seemed to be his entire job as his personality.

How boring.

When Harry manages to get the topic back onto a work issue, YN cannot help but let out a yawn that she very half-heartedly tries to cover with her hand because she could only hear so much about a spinal surgery before she’s zoning out.

Victoria is hanging onto his every word, asking questions, and being overly interested in a lackluster story in his monotone, deep voice that could honestly lull her to sleep because of how bleak and morbid he sounded.

However, when she yawns, no one at the table notices but Harry.

His eyes have darted over to her a few times while he’s been talking, almost to gauge her level of interest, and when she yawns, he visibly huffs before continuing - his words a bit more harsh and a flutter of annoyance twisting into his cadence.

YN had neglected her date during this whole time, in full honesty.

Victoria and Mitch seemed to have a great conversation.

When YN talked to Mitch, he was nice enough and easy to have a conversation with but his boss across the table was distracting and apparently felt the need to constantly be the center of attention even though that’s what he called YN out for.

It’s rude, YN knows it is when she excuses herself to the bathroom mid-story, placing her napkin on the table before swinging her purse over her shoulder, and navigating into the dimly-lit restaurant towards the back.

YN goes into one of the many stalls, a larger bathroom, and sits down.

She didn’t have to go to the bathroom but she had just needed a break because…

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck?

YN would be crawling out the bathroom window if Victoria wasn’t with her.

YN hears the door open and she just knows it’s Victoria.

She is definitely going to give YN a piece of her mind for her attitude at the table and she really can’t blame her because she was not being on her best behavior admittedly.

When YN pushes open the stall, already starting her speech, “Tor, I know you’re probably pissed but -”

However, YN stops mid-setence when she sees that it was not Victoria standing across from her.

No, instead it was Harry, leaning back against the sinks with his arms crossed and a scowl worse than anything that he had displayed at the table across his face.

“Already dating again?” He asks unhappily, the slight crack of his deep drawl gives away the jealously laying behind those words, “That’s pretty fuckin’ rich, innit?”

“Don’t you dare,” YN hisses back, defensive and straightening up, “You don’t have any room to talk.”

“I have plenty,” Harry grits out, his gaze unwavering, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out, “You fucked everything up, not me.”

The awful thing is that YN wants him too.

“That’s not true,” YN murmurs softer, trying to keep the feisty edge in her voice but struggling.

The emotions that she was attempting to hold in at the table were much harder to bottle up when they were standing face-to-face like this.

“You like Mitch?” Harry ignores her rebuttal, his knuckles were white where they were gripping the kitchen sink, “Think he’s nice? Boyfriend material?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” YN snaps back, finding her bravado a bit more.

“Come here,” Harry orders, voice quiet but sharp, demanding, and it sends a chill down her spine.

“Harry-” YN begins to argue but finds herself walking forward, her heart pounding hard enough that it hurts and her hands were shaking as she clung the strap of her purse as a lifeline as her heels clicked against the tile.

“C’mon, dove,” His voice is sweeter, more goading until she’s close enough to touch.

Her lips parted in nerves, excitement, dread.

His hand reaches out to curl around the nape of her neck, fingers lightly pressing into the sides of her throat and though it was gentle, it was possessive - rooted in the jealousy of what was going on tonight with their dates.

Harry brings her towards him by the hold he has on her, until her hands are laid on his chest, and he’s leaning down as he tilts her head up.

He brushes their lips together, once, twice, and on the third time, YN pulls back and takes a few steps away from him.

“You can’t just do that,” YN huffs, grabbing a tissue from the counter and dabbing at the corners of her eyes to prevent the tears from falling and ruining her makeup, “I’m on a date. You’re on a date. It isn’t fair to either of them.”

Harry laughs unhappily, shaking his head as pushes away from the sink, heading towards the door but before he leaves, he bites back, “I don’t think you have room to be talking about fair. You obviously don’t fuckin’ understand the concept of it. Pull yourself together before you come back out.”

YN knows it immature, proves his point but gives him the middle finger before going back to dabbing at her eyes - fuck, she wishes she didn’t cry around him.

She wondered if it was worth sneaking out the window and facing the wrath of her friend later.

ahhhhhhh.

let me know your thoughts. this was difficult to write but im glad it turned out how i wanted it too! what do you predict?

😙😙😙

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic

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jim-bones-spock · 7 months ago

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Challengers analysis

I just saw Challengers the other night and the movie is a perfect parallel because it's a tennis match. Literally. The whole movie is a tennis match.

The time jumps are just us moving our heads from left to right on the timeline, as if we're seeing them play tennis with the story. Going back and forth and back and forth.

This allows SO many parallels - let me write them down or I'll go insane. 1. Art spitting his chewing gum in Tashi's hand, only we see him a few scenes later doing to the same with Patrick 10 years earlier.

2. Tashi and Art's first kiss being super cute in a parking lot on a calm night outside Applebees while Tashi and Patrick's messy relationship is mirrored in their kissing (also in a parking lot) while there's a literal hurricane going on around them. 3. The knee injury being avoided by the two guys in the last shots of the game while it defined Tashi's career

4. The fucking call back to the ball at the center of the racket are you kidding me

5. The boys kissing their first prize cup vs kissing Tashi's neck

6. How Tashi says at the beginning of the movie how tennis is a relationship, so every time we talk about tennis we're actually talking about them three and how they navigate their fucked up relationship and only when Patrick asks Tashi not to talk about tennis does the relationship fails

6.5 (UHM also fellas is it gay to moan when your girlfriend brings up your guy bff in bed???? Asking for a friend)

7. The two guys bringing up something unpleasant to Tashi and prefacing it with ''You're gonna be mad'' and Tashi rolling her eyes because she already knows

8. How the end of the movie is NOT about tennis, it's about the guys being equals again and realizing they've been MISERABLE without the other and embracing at the end of the match just like their first scene together after their win playing doubles

9. Also when they play their last match with Tashi sitting in the middle they are literally making out like they were on the bed and Tashi is still in between playing (sexy evil) mastermind

10. T-shirt sharing throughout the years

11. Not really a parallel, but when they sweat so much at the end and it looks like tears ??? Cinema.

12. When Patrick literally drops his racket and catches Art while he wins for the first time against him kill me now

13. When Tashi screams at the end of the match like we see her do at the beginning of the movie when she won - feeling like they've won because they reconciled in a way AND they played some good fucking tennis like she always wanted

This movie is about yearning for the thing you can't have. Tashi can't have tennis, Patrick can't have Art and Art can't have Tashi.

Together, though? They can have everything.

#challengers #challengers movie #m: challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #zendaya #mike faist #josh o'connor #movies

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savanir · 27 days ago

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Death of the Father, Death of the Son

Part 3

prev and OG prompt

Dick was just about finished with his preparations in the Batjet when one of his brothers barged in and dumped some of their stuff inside as well.

“I’m coming with you” Tim straps down the case he brought and plants his ass in the copilot seat.

Dick looks at him with a slight frown, “Tim…”

“no I want to see the murder scenes with my own eyes and it’s good for you to have some backup-”

“I’ll be just fine on my own babybird-”

“-cause we don’t know if this is just one assassin or a whole organization”

“ok. and now you can tell me the real reason you want to come along”

Tim gives Dick a side-eye before slumping down“... Alf has been talking with Bruce about me needing fresh air again and I rather do that preemptively and on my own terms so you’re just gonna have to accept you’re stuck with me on this one now”

Dick sighs, and ruffles Tim’s hair before strapping himself in the pilot seat and ignoring the indignant squawk from his brother, “sure, fine, Oracle we’re heading out now”

“have a safe trip Nightwing”

and they are off

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Amity Park is about what they expected, outwardly nothing remarkable, somewhat sleepy. But upon closer inspection the signs of multiple battles are quite clear.

Though apparently it’s been quite a while now since the last “ghost” battle. There is a lot of speculation as to why among the town folks which could be important to look into some other time, but for now the boys put a pin in it and get to breaking and entering the old Fenton household for their investigation.

Things seem to be normal inside the house but… ahem, well...

Tim inspects all the strange tech that looks just haphazardly slapped on the walls with a critical eye while Dick lifts one of the family photos to have a better look.

“looks like a normal average american household to me, even with mom and dad preferring to wear hazmat suits everywhere apparently” there really aren’t any pictures where they aren’t wearing the orange and teal suits. Madeline Fenton wasn’t wearing one at the Gala though, she looks a lot more comfortable in these pictures.

Dick looks around some more, “is it just me or does this place just feel… depressing?”

“yeah no I get what you mean, there is nobody here but I also feel a lot like I’m intruding” Tim hums, “more than normal that is”

“Red…”

Tim elects to ignore that tone of voice completely, “there is no way any of this stuff is even remotely up to code” he then peeks at the picture as well, he of course already knew what the murdered father and missing son looked like, he’s done his homework, but this is a casual happy family picture, that always drives home the fact that these were- are real people.

but how did they all get dragged into this situation, this mess that is slowly turning into something a lot more complicated… maybe… well that’s why he’s here. To figure it out.

The stairs that lead to the basement lab are in the kitchen for some reason, and once down there they both need a moment to take the whole place in.

The entire house is rather abandoned but this place looks as if it hasn't been touched since the police did their own investigation.

There is some tape and markers that were left behind but overall it looks a lot like a hurricane went through it, exploded, and then everything got covered in a fine layer of dust.

Tim opens the case he brought with him and begins setting up the holo scanners to make a copy of the whole place that they’ll be able to project in the batcave later, in case they miss something now.

It's only after that’s done that they start to have a look themselves.

“Even this badly wrecked it definitely looks like some sort of evil lair” Tim mutters as he inspects the nearest vaguely firearm shaped object, or maybe it’s a hair blower he’s not sure, it’s got Fenton Works™ stamped on it though.

“is that a portal” Dick meant it as a question but it ends up sounding like a statement.

It gets Tim’s attention though, “I… maybe?” it kinda looks like one potentially, busted up to hell though.

Dick carefully approaches it but doesn’t for a second think about going in there,“Mostly looks like a hole in the wall now though, I’m not going in there to check with all those wires on the ground, talk about a trip hazard. Not to mention the threat of electrocution, has nobody here heard about cable management?!”

“where is your sense of adventure Wingster, besides I am pretty sure this place is cut off from electricity now”

“yeah, I’m not taking the risk with sketchy evil lair portals today”

Dick lets Tim do his own detective work while he takes out a little device Batman made to alert him to Deadman. He figures it would be interesting to get a read on the place and see if it's really ghosts that have been causing a mess in Amity Park or if it is something else that just appears paranormal.

The ecto-detection goes completely wild however. “Alright well… uhh”

"What's that?”

“I was just curious if something occult was going on around here what with everyone blaming the past attacks on ghosts and thinking that whatever happened here probably has something to do with them as well… but I'll be honest, Boston never registered anywhere near this high. And it's just - everywhere”

“So any further investigation into Amity Park itself is gonna have to be done by Dark?”

“probably” though Tim is also fully planning on doing a full investigation himself.

Either way, they put a pin in that too.

They have a good look at the areas where bullets made an impact, scorch marks and the broken examination tables. They are about done when Tim asks if it would be worth it to break into the local police department and have a lot at (steal) whatever evidence they might still have on the case.

They could have something useful, unless it is who Dick really hopes it’s not.

They leave the basement and are greeted with the sight of two teens in the kitchen.

hm…

Dick decides to just go with a cheery hello,

“Holy shit it’s Nightwing and Red Robin!” Tucker basically has stars in his eyes.

“After the message we got from Jazz I kinda expected the big bat”

“That's not true, you said after all this time you didn’t think they were actually gonna come at all- ow!” Sam doesn’t hesitate to hit him in the shoulder.

“Didn't think we'd show up” Tim says.

“Well am I wrong?” Sam sneers, “the only reason you guys are here is cause it’s a Gotham thing now. Otherwise someone actually competent would have looked into this months ago”

Tucker shrugs sheepishly and looks a little pained, “perhaps we shouldn't antagonize the Justice League heroes?”

Sam looks about ready to start hissing, it reminds Tim somewhat of the demon brat when he's particularly upset. “whatever” she says.

Tucker now has a strained smile, “uh, if you guys were wondering how we knew you were in here, that's because Jazz asked us to keep an eye on the place”

they tripped an alarm? how… Everything in here is cut off and disabled. some sort of battery based system maybe? but they would have surely picked up on that…

Dick figures he might as well just go ahead and ask some questions so he takes a seat and the other two follow suit more at ease than the two birds expected. Tim decides to wander a bit more around the kitchen. Maybe there is something he missed here.

“so, I'm just gonna go out on a limb here and assume that you two also think Daniel-”

“Danny” Sam corrects immediatly

“-yes Danny, you two also think he's still alive?”

The question is immediately answered by a, “yes” and a, “he is”

“Jazz also seemed very certain of this despite the fact that a body was found. what makes you all so sure?”

Sam looks ready to spring into another tirade, Dick is starting to suspect that she has a serious issue with ‘not being taken seriously’

“Jazz told you guys already about the clone thing right? just go to Vlad's estate and it's all there in his evil basement laboratory”

“and we also know someone who can check deaths through occult stuff, and they confirmed that he has not… you know, crossed over”

“occult like magic?”

“or something, they were never wrong before. we do realize this isn't hard evidence obviously but they are a friend and not the type to just tell us what we want to hear” this is the easiest way to explain that they got in contact with the ghosts to have them look through the realms for Danny.

“I'd like to speak with-”

“that's gonna be hard, they don't show up with all the government people crawling about”

“so that individual with proof cannot be reached so we can’t verify their claims”

“nope”

unfortunate, but they did already say it wasn't hard evidence. It seems that these two aren’t going to budge on it which seems a little odd to Dick, there are known magic users in the League. Someone being able to check into the afterlife or whatever to see if someone is truly dead isn’t completely out of left field, it should be fine to meet with that person and at least hear them out… so why are ‘’government people’’ an issue? are they possibly wanted for some crime? oh well…

“when we went to them it was mostly just to know. you know? like… mr. Fenton got murdered and Danny went missing, and nobody knew anything or could find anything. Everyone suspected ghosts of course. and we just wanted to know if our best friend was dead or not, if searching was even worth it”

“and now the fruitloop got assassinated. to us it basically also confirms it you know. he's still alive, and it would absolutely be best to shut up the one guy who knows about the whole thing”

But why smear Masters? Why not do it quietly? And what makes Daniel so special?

Tim just knows he's going to end up with more sleepless nights because of this.

In the end the two teens aren’t actually all that cooperative. It seems they actually have mostly shown up to check what was going on inside the Fenton household, Tim and Dick decide not to push them too much then and there, figuring they could visit Master’s estate first, verify the clone allegations, and after that get back to these two, perhaps when they get more intel and have something more substantial to work these then Sam and Tucker will be a bit more forthcoming as well.

Only time will tell.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Slade had to go on some solo mission and at this point he's okay with leaving the boys to handle themselves, Danny eagerly takes the opportunity to do his own thing.

Aka, going after politicians to get the acts repealed. Making deals with the ones who value their lives and can see a good opportunity when they are presented with one and getting his name out there. If he’s an actual threat people will be forced to listen.

This day though he lands a hit that the supers in Metropolis somehow know about…

someone somewhere snitched, or… they are compromised. A worry for later.

"Memento Mori, they say you're trained by the Deathstroke and that you have an absolute success rate. And that you only kill your target and no one else on one of your assignments... but today all of it is coming to an end because with my tactile telekinesis I-"

"If I had known that all I had to do to meet a real life alien was to act up a little I would have gone down this road a lot sooner" Danny leans against the AC unit on top of the apartment building they are currently on.

Kon splutters, "what?"

"Alright, okay, clone of an alien, which to me is still basically the same thing. Very cool, honestly, if you ask me, even better"

Kon puffs up, "well I am pretty awesome if I say so myself"

"Absolutely, out of this world some would say"

Kon snorts, then remembers what's actually going on here, "are you trying to distract me?"

"Maybe? Is it working?" Kon pouts and makes a so-so gesture. "I do mean it though. You're easily in my top five favorite aliens"

Kon blushes quite prettily "Uhm, well I... oh wait aliens? Not heroes?"

"Ah, yeah well about that, I guess I'm not a fan of that? Especially not currently. What with you being in my way and all that"

"Oh so if I were to politely ask to not kill the lady"

"Yeah I'm still gonna do that, sorry"

Kon sighs, "well in that case I'll-"

He promptly gets knocked back by an impressive punch to the face. Mostly stunned by the fact that it properly hurts and then realizing Danny can move at all.

"You got distracted" and gives him a wink.

Kon rubs his jaw, "Oh you think you're cute"

"not just cute, I am adorable" and Kon just knows this smug bastard is grinning at him under the mask he can’t see through.

He really wishes he didn't have a thing for dark haired spunky dangerous people.

"... it- it doesn't matter, even with your freaky assassin skills there is no way-"

"You're a bit of a terrible match up against me though, no offense" Danny is trying to not overuse his abilities. He doesn't want the justice league to know about all of them. but it'll turn into a messy and long fight where neither come out on top if he sticks with the regular stuff. And that would allow backup to arrive and make things even more complicated...

"Damn... I just don't have time for this"

Kon makes sure he's prepared to intercept anything Danny might throw at him now.

"If you go invisible I'll just follow the sound of your heartbeat"

"Oh" Danny turns his heart off. He can't do that indefinitely while in human form though, but this will do for this fight. "How about now"

"What the-? Are you alright!?"

"Awww you’re worried? That's sweet. Supersweet one could say," Danny turns invisible, "you should really be more worried about yourself though Superboy"

Kon tries if he can keep visual with his X-ray vision, he thinks about trying to do a sweep for even the slightest disturbance with his TTK field when a freezing cold shiver shoots up his spine.

There is a moment of silence where nothing and nobody moves and then Kon can hear Superman in the distance.

"Kon! What's going on!"

"That little- he slipped away!"

"That's unfortunate... meet up with Kara at Miss Holloway’s location. Together we'll be able to stop him there"

"No I think I can-" Kon tries to argue

"Superboy" superman sounds stern

"... fine, I'm going"

Kon makes a direct beeline for the target location and a grin can't help but spread over his face. He pushes his sunglasses up a bit more to hide the glowing green eyes.

Now that he got to this point he’s getting back to wondering who tipped the supers off though. Having to switch to plan B was rather annoying.

And he still absolutely doesn't like overshadowing people but what can you do… mission first, personal and ethical little hang ups second.

Superboy went under so smoothly though, Danny wondered why that was until he did a careful skim of the surface and sensed the roiling self hatred. He suspects that'll do it.

Danny feels sorta bad though, Superboy really is up there in his list of coolest things this world has to offer. He'll have to make it up to him after this is all over somehow. In a way that won’t compromise himself, and also avoid the old man knowing.

It's then that he realizes he's arrived at the target location, it's showtime!

"Here I am"

Kara gives him a wave and he smoothly touches down, it really is a good thing he already knows how to fly and stuff, makes the whole pretending to be a Kryptonian thing a bit easier. "Got away huh?"

He huffs, "he can just turn his heartbeat off, how was I supposed to know that?"

"Deathstroke's protégé's are on a different level for sure. But even they have a limit"

Right... sure... underestimate him, very smart...

Not that he can really blame them. They probably think he's a baseline human with maybe some meta abilities or just a new upgraded Ikon suit.

"Can I see the tip off?

"Again? Sure. Though I doubt you'll see anything in it that we haven't seen yet. Oracle is trying to trace it but..."

"Hm, what if..." yeah some of this was very familiar, "what if it's Deathstroke and he's treating this whole thing as a screwed up training exercise?"

"That... I sure hope not"

"He's insane enough for that though"

"I hate that you could be right"

The silence stretches.

"Are you alright Kon?"

Danny startles a little, "Yeah! I'm just, frustrated"

"Ah, don't worry. With the three of us standing ready it'll be fine. We'll catch him" she presses her fist in her open palm.

Danny feels a careful smile spread on Kon's face.

"Hey, you check up on the lady and I'll make it look like I'm not involved in all this. Kal is close by and after that we'll try that thing with you spreading your TTK field super far"

Using Superboy's ability as a net? Interesting. "Gotcha"

Supergirl nods and then takes off and Danny figures he might as well just get this whole thing over with now.

The lady is right there, she barely acknowledges him when he politely greets her. Rude…

And then he snaps her neck.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

"Youuuu" Danny storms up to Slade with vicious green overtaking his usual blue, “you fucking motherf-”

"Boy-"

"Don't you boy me. You sabotaged my assignment!"

"False accusations?"

Danny gives him a look that screams ‘are you for real…’ "Of course I took a moment to investigate. I had to know if we had a leak. But you tipping off the supers you absolute-"

Slade nods, satisfied that Danny looked into the matter, "You were fine, you need to be challenged to learn how to adapt to any situation. The moment things become complicated you resort to your abilities"

"Get off it old man I'm only half human of course I'm using my damn abilities, they are a fucking part of me! You though- You're the biggest dick in the universe and-"

Any civilized conversation quickly ends after that as it gradually devolves into a physical fight.

"Bastard" Danny mutters as he focuses his healing to fix his black eye first.

"Cool down brat” Slade says, looking no worse for wear, “We'll go over the whole thing in more depth later" and the veteran assassin leaves the room.

Danny fumes as he handles his patch up himself. While doing so he allows himself a moment of self loathing.

He hates that he's making progress getting the ecto acts removed. "working" with the people who are happily removing the thing and getting rid of those that ignorantly want to keep it in place.

He hates that the G.I.W are easier to handle with his new skillset.

He really hates how easy this is getting.

And he really really hates how there was zero hesitation to overshadow Superboy and use him.

He can't wait till this is over, one way or another.

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eyesofshinigami · 10 months ago

Text

Boyfriend Privileges

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Just getting together, language, fluff

Prompt: For @sparklyslug "Love is letting him pick the music"

WC: 959

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 21

The rules were simple in Steve’s car. Wipe your feet before you get in. No snacks or drinks. And most importantly, don’t touch the fucking radio.

Steve is very particular about his music. He likes what he likes and he won’t hear anything about it. He likes pop music because it’s happy, it’s fun, and it gives him something mindless to sing along to when his head feels too full.

Even when the kids complain, or Robin teases him, Steve is steadfast. Whatever is playing is what’s going to play, and no one is going to be able to say anything about it.

But then Eddie came crashing into his life like a hurricane.

Eddie is a lot of things that Steve isn’t. He’s confident and loud, brash and unapologetic in just about everything he does. They’re also the same, sometimes; they’re both scarred, both of them just wanting to be loved, to be understood.

Falling for Eddie was a quiet thing, for Steve. It crept up on him until one day he looked at Eddie, smiling and laughing as he and the kids were gathered around the table playing their dragons game, and he thought oh. Oh I want to be with this person for the rest of my life.

That’s where it started, and now they’re here. It’s only been a couple of days since Eddie beat him to the punch and confessed first. They kissed, they touched, and decided that this is something they both wanted. Steve could hardly believe that Eddie wanted him back.

They hadn’t told the kids yet; not that they were hiding it, but they were both enjoying just being together and figuring out what exactly that meant. But it’s good already, with Eddie giving him a sweet, private smile as he slides into the front seat. Steve had volunteered to pick the whole gaggle of them up from the arcade so he could bring them back to his house for a movie night.

“Heya Stevie,” Eddie says, pulling his hair across his mouth. It’s enough to make Steve’s heart start beating fast even over the sound of the boys climbing into the backseat. “Happy to see me?”

“Always,” Steve answers honestly. Eddie’s cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink and Steve mourns the fact that he can’t leave over and kiss him. Soon, he tells himself. Once they drop the kids off, they’ll go back to Eddie’s trailer and-

“We’re burning daylight, Steve! I thought we were going to watch a movie or something!” Dustin’s voice breaks through the lovesick haze that had settled over them.

Steve grumbles and turns the car on. “Keep your shirt on, butthead. We’re going now.” That incites another bout of grumbling and arguing from the backseat. “Don’t make me regret offering you guys the chance to use the TV. Or make me consider throwing out all those snacks I bought, or sending the pizza back…”

Eddie pretends to swoon and presses his hand to his forehead. “Oh no, please, oh gracious King of my Heart! Do not let the ramblings of the peasants cast a shadow upon your infinite kindness and patience!” He looks up at Steve with big, wide eyes that make Steve think a whole lot of other things besides the upcoming movie night. “What can this fair knight do to assuage the slight against your good name?”

“I could think of a few things,” he says, just loud enough for Eddie to hear. It makes a pretty cat-like grin break out across Eddie’s face. Oh, the things they’re going to do later…

Eddie seems to be on the same page, licking his lips as he reaches up to the radio. He pushes the button and pops the tape out, slipping in the he’d made for Steve the night they decided they wanted to give this a go. It makes Steve’s heart skip a beat.

It’s probably why it takes him so long to realize that the backseat has gone completely silent. No squabbling, so arguing, no nothing. Dead silent. Eddie picks up on it too, turning around in his seat to stare at them. “Did someone press the mute button? What gives?”

“You touched the radio,” comes Will’s voice from the back, sounding awed.

“Yeah? And? Steve always lets me put music on.”

That gets a reaction. Dustin and Mike start squawking protests. “What the hell, Steve?? You never let us pick the music? You don’t even let Robin touch the radio! What are the three rules of riding in the Bimmer?” Dustin calls out.

“Wipe your feet. No snacks or food. And most importantly, don’t touch the radio,” the other boys in the back chorus together.

Eddie turns and looks at Steve, smile getting impossibly wider. “Is that so?”

He could deny it. He could lie and say they’re just being shitheads about it. It’d be really easy. “Yeah. Yeah it is true. But you know,” Steve stops, reaching over and grabbing Eddie’s hand to press a kiss to the back of it. His heart is pounding, but it’s worth it for the stars he sees in Eddie’s eyes. “You’re the exception to the rule.”

The backseat erupts in a whole different bout of noise, but Steve tunes it out. He’s too busy enjoying the way he and Eddie’s fingers are laced together over the console, the mixtape Eddie made for him playing in the background.

“Does this mean you’ll let us eat in the car now?” Mike tries, sounding put out.

Steve shakes his head. “Absolutely fucking not.” Though, he looks over at Eddie, who is still grinning like the cat who got the canary. “Except you. Boyfriend privileges and all that.”

It’s worth the noise coming from the back.

#les writes things #steddie #steddielovemonth

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dreamwritesimagines · 10 months ago

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [11] - Arrogance

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Engagement period is supposed to be romantic.

Word Count: 3300

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

For the next couple of days, you barely had any time for yourself. It wasn’t as if you were naive enough to believe planning a wedding would be relaxing, but this?

This was something else.

“Can I just let you handle the whole thing?” you asked your wedding planner on the phone, leaning back on your seat while you kept your eyes on the people in the café and she let out a laugh.

“I mean don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your trust in me,” she said. “But you still need to choose among the things I send you, otherwise it’ll be like it's my wedding.”

“I don’t know, you strike me as a person who has good taste,” you said. “I might not be completely opposed to that idea.”

“Thanks but I already planned and had my wedding.”

“Right!” you said, snapping your fingers. “You said you were married to a professor, right?”

“Mm hm.”

“Was there like an open floor for discussions on your wedding?”

“Nah, more like an open bar,” she said. “And don’t try to distract me, my assistant sent you like one hundred emails.”

“I know, I know…” you muttered. “At least I decided on the place.”

“Yeah one down, ninety-nine to go,” she said. “Barnes weekend residence. We’re going there tomorrow right?”

“Yeah at 2 o’clock, it’s already on my calendar.”

“Great,” she said. “Answer my emails by then, please?”

“I will, talk to you later!” you said as you saw Ethan walk into the café and you waved at him after hanging up.

“Hey!” he said, coming to hug you when you stood up from your seat. “It’s been a while!”

“Hey yourself,” you said and pulled back from the hug to smile at him, then sat down when he did. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been busy.”

“So I figured,” he said after ordering a coffee to the waiter who approached your table to take his order and you sat up straighter.

“How about you?” you said. “How is everything at the company?”

“Also pretty chaotic,” he said with a small smile. “I’ve been working overtime, a lot.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah!” he said. “Yeah it’s just…it’s a really big company that wants things done in a certain way.”

“Do you want me to send someone around so that they can talk to your boss?”

His eyes widened.

“I—you—” he stammered. “I’m— I’m honored but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” you asked, tilting your head. “If they’re giving you a hard time, it’s only fair if they have a hard time as well.”

He stared at you as the waiter put the cup of coffee in front of him, and then he cleared his throat.

“I’ll never get used to your lifestyle I think.”

“That’s a good thing,” you said with a small smile. “Please don’t.”

“So how about you?” he asked. “What have you been up to?”

You blinked a couple of times, nervousness churning your stomach before you took a sip of your coffee.

“That’s actually why I asked you here,” you muttered. “And I—I know it’s going to sound a bit rushed, but um…”

He pulled his brows together, his whole attention on you.

“What is it?” he asked and you swallowed thickly, then tried to smile.

“I’m getting married.”

He gawked at you for a couple of seconds in complete silence as if he wasn’t sure if he had heard you right while you just sat there, nibbling on your lip.

“You…you what?” he asked when he could pull himself together and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Getting married,” you said. “In a month, actually.”

“I wasn’t aware you were in a relationship—”

“I wasn’t,” you cut him off and a look of realization dawned on his face, making him pull back slightly.

“This is what we talked about all those years ago, isn’t it?” he asked. “Back at college. I asked you numerous times and you said no but in your world—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted him again. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You can say no,” he insisted and you sipped your coffee, reminding yourself to not let anything show on your face.

“What makes you think I want to say no?”

“You want to get married?” he asked with a dry laugh. “And to whom, if you don’t mind me ask?”

“Bucky Barnes.”

Ethan blinked a couple of times.

“…Bucky Barnes as in the guy you hate?”

“Things change,” you said calmly and he scoffed.

“Do they?” he asked. “So it’s a love marriage? Nothing to do with your family business?”

“To repeat, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Your world—”

“Ethan, I don’t mean to be rude,” you said through your teeth. “But if you genuinely believe that you know anything about my world, you’re fooling yourself.”

He pressed his lips together, then took a deep breath and pushed his chair back, your bodyguards sitting up straighter as if on cue but you held up a hand, gesturing at them to sit still. Ethan looked between you and the bodyguards, then let out a somber chuckle and put some cash on the table.

“For the coffee,” he said and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Ethan…”

“If they’re forcing you to do this—”

“Nobody is forcing me,” you told him, looking him in the eye and he nodded his head slowly.

“Then I guess congratulations on the wedding,” he said with a sad smile. “I’m not going to pretend I know anything about your world Y/N, I’m just…I’m just wondering what happened to the girl who told me she’d only marry for love, that’s all.”

With that, he walked out of the café and you gritted your teeth, then pressed your palms on your eyes, slouching in your chair.

“I killed her I guess,” you muttered to yourself and lowered your hands. “Occupational hazard and all.”

As you knocked on the door to Becca’s apartment, you could swear your head was about to explode from the headache pounding in your temples. You heaved a sigh and rubbed at your eyes, then heard the footsteps before the door opened.

“Oh hi Y/N!” Leila said. “It's great to see you, I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Sorry to bother you,” you said, offering her a smile. “Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all, come in!”

“Is Becca here?”

“Yeah!” she said as she stepped aside so that you could go in. “We were just watching—um, are you okay?”

“Not exactly,” you grumbled and made your way to the living room to see Becca sitting on the couch with the remote in her hand.

“Hey, I didn’t know—” she started but stopped talking when you flung yourself on the other couch across from hers, letting out a groan. You could hear Leila entering the living room as well and you raised your head from the pillow with a sigh.

“Do either of you have a painkiller?”

“Oh yeah, let me get it for you,” Leila said and rushed to the kitchen while you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, then hugged a pillow over your stomach.

“What’s going on?” Becca asked and you huffed out.

“Terrible day. Do you want to go out for drinks?”

“I’d love to but I have plans,” she said apologetically. “I’ll go out in like an hour.”

“What plans?”

“Uh…therapy,” she answered as Leila came back to the living room holding a glass of water and a pill.

“Thank you so much,” you said as you took them from her and she smiled at you, then went to sit beside Becca after you swallowed the pill and put the glass on the small coffee table.

“So?” Becca said. “What happened? Is it Bucky?”

“For once, nope.”

“Congratulations on the engagement by the way!” Leila said. “To be honest, I could kind of tell something was there even when you two kept arguing that night.”

You raised your brows and stole a look at Becca who shrugged her shoulders subtly. It wasn’t that you thought she would say anything to anyone about the real reason why you and Bucky were getting married, but she had fallen so head over heels in love with Leila that it took you by surprise that she hadn’t told her either.

But on a second thought, you knew you shouldn’t have been surprised. Not only would you trust Becca with your life, but Becca was also raised with the same rules as you and Bucky were, and secrets were almost sacred in your world.

“Thanks,” you said with a small smile. “It’s a bit rushed but when you know you know.”

“That’s so true,” Leila said, holding Becca’s hand and a cute blush spread over Becca’s cheeks, making you smile despite the headache.

“So it’s not Bucky then?” Becca asked and you massaged your temples.

“Ethan.”

“Oh I liked Ethan—” Leila started, but stopped when she saw the look on your face. “Or you know, I could also hate him if we hate him now, I don’t mind.”

“No no,” you said. “He’s sweet but um…I told him the news about the wedding and he understandably did not like it.”

“You two weren’t together though?”

“Eh, there was still something,” Becca said. “He likes you, a lot.”

“He thinks I’m being forced into this,” you said and Becca shot you a smile.

“As if anyone could force you into marrying my brother.”

“I mean it’s not the nineteenth century,” Leila pointed out and Becca let out a laugh.

“So, how heartbroken was he?”

“I wouldn’t say he was heartbroken,” you muttered. “Just angry I guess. And I get it, I haven’t been completely honest with him—” You were cut off when your phone started vibrating and you took a look at the screen, then pushed yourself off the couch.

“I’ll be right back,” you said and walked to Becca’s bedroom, then took the phone to your ear.

“Yeah?”

“Hey beautiful,” Bucky’s voice reached you and you sat down on Becca’s bed, fully aware that you were pouting your lips.

“Hey.”

“How’s your day going?”

“Meh,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “What is it?”

“I just called to let you know we have a dinner reservation tonight,” he said. “I’ll pick you up from the hotel around 8?”

You made a face. “Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t like your presence any more than you like mine,” you stated. “And it’ll be harder for me to ignore you in a restaurant if it’s just the two of us having dinner.”

“I mean, you do realize you don’t have to ignore me—”

“I know I don’t have to, it’s more of a hobby,” you said. “So? Why are you taking me out to dinner?”

“Because if we want people to believe it’s a love marriage rather than what it actually is, we need to be seen outside as a couple,” he said and you heaved a sigh, then ran a hand over your face.

“Right.”

“So then—”

“Yeah you can pick me up at 8,” you said and he paused for a second.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You sound a bit…”

“Yeah I’m fine,” you said in a rush. “It’s just you know, this whole marriage thing—I’m fine. I’m great.”

“Very convincing,” he deadpanned and you scoffed a laugh.

“Just pick a nice restaurant, will you?” you asked and hung up before he could retort, then huffed out and got up from the bed to walk back to the living room to see Leila walking to the kitchen.

“So Becca has stuff to do but I figured we could drink and watch trash TV if you’d like?” she asked as soon as she saw you. “I can make mimosas.”

You blinked a couple of times and nodded fervently.

“That’d be great!” you said and she gave you a happy smile, then entered the kitchen. You smiled to yourself, then flung yourself next to Becca.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you said and Becca tilted her head.

“About what?”

“About what I said earlier,” you said. “You totally should propose and marry her, she’s amazing.”

Even you had to admit, the restaurants in Bucky’s territory were better than the ones in your father’s territory.

It was rather annoying but considering your house with him would of course be in his territory, at least you already knew you would get good food whenever you two went out for dinner. Bucky’s palm was warm on the small of your back and if it were any other time you would have slipped out of his grasp but you let him guide you to the restaurant.

“Mr. Barnes, it’s an honor,” A man greeted you two by the entrance. “Your table is ready, please follow me.”

You looked around the luxurious interior as you and Bucky made your way to your table, and a waiter pulled your chair for you to sit down. You took a quick look at the menu before ordering and Bucky just asked for his usual, and you watched the waiter walk away with the man.

“I don’t think I’ve been here before,” you told Bucky. “When did it open?”

“Around a year ago,” he said. “I like it here, it’s…private, mostly.”

You hummed while the waiter filled your glass with wine and you took a sip, enjoying the nice taste.

“So my dad called while I was getting ready,” you said. “Apparently he will talk to Stark sometime this week.”

“I have a pretty good guess about how that will go,” Bucky muttered and you bit inside your cheek.

“You think Stark will make things difficult?”

“I mean he’s not going to like it because two families uniting means a tremendous power in the city,” Bucky stated. “Let’s see how he reacts and plan accordingly.”

“Might have to sweettalk him,” you said. “Gift him a shipment or two. And Romanoff?”

“I’m meeting her tomorrow,” he said. “Steve will be there too, they’re old friends. Any stupid comments from Ian lately?”

“Nope. By the way I was going to ask you but I forgot—that night, when you and Ian were talking,” you said. “What did he tell you?”

Bucky scoffed before taking a sip of his wine.

“He was saying that you wanted to be an active player in the business,” he said with a small smile. “Just in case I didn’t know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Idiot.”

“But I don’t think he suspects anything.”

“No, he thinks the same as my dad,” you said with a dry laugh. “I get married and pop out a few babies and become a fucking Stepford Wife.”

Bucky shot you a grin, then his head shot up.

“Oh I almost forgot,” he said and took out a small velvet box out of his pocket, then put it on the table. You arched a brow.

“Is that the ring?”

“Yeah.”

“Nah you can take it back,” you said after sipping your wine. “I’ll go and check some jewelers tomorrow and get something pretty, they can send you the bill.”

He pulled his brows together. “You didn’t even look at it.”

“I don’t need to, I’ve seen the women you dated,” you pointed out. “Something tells me they didn’t educate you well about jewelry so there’s no need for—”

You stopped talking when he reached out to open the small box for you and your eyes fell upon the ring, the rest of your sentence getting stuck in your throat. The pear-shaped diamond on the delicate rose gold band was so pretty that for a couple of seconds you could only stare at it while it glimmered under the dim light of the restaurant, almost hypnotizing you before you remembered to pull yourself together.

It was definitely to your taste, as if…

“Becca helped you,” you managed to say as you reached out to take it into your hand and he nodded.

“Mm hm. Today.”

“Well played.”

Bucky gave you a proud smile, his piercing blue gaze almost too hot on your skin and you slipped the ring onto your finger, then held up your hand so that you could look at it better.

“It’s pretty,” you said. “I’m keeping it in the divorce by the way.”

He clutched as his chest. “Don’t be so romantic Charm, I’m going to get emotional.”

That made a laugh spill from your lips while the waiter brought your food, and you thanked him while Bucky leaned forward on his elbows as if he wasn’t even aware of anything else but you.

“Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“How did you use to imagine it?”

You looked at him. “Imagine what?”

“Your engagement period, your wedding, you name it,” he said and you hummed, then leaned back.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Maybe we can make the wedding the way you pictured it,” he said and you scoffed a laugh.

“I doubt it,” you said. “When I pictured my wedding, I always pictured myself in love. There was this fairytale wedding, gorgeous wedding gown, we’d go to Paris for the honeymoon and he’d be reciting poetry about how much he was in love with me in bed.”

Bucky blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat.

“I’m not good with poetry.”

“Never thought you were,” you said. “Eh, maybe my second marriage will go the way I pictured it.”

That caused a shadow to cross his eyes but he recovered fast, sipping his drink.

“How about you?” you asked. “How did you use to imagine your second marriage?”

He tilted his head. “What happened to my first marriage?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you said, pointing at him with your fork. “Funny story. You knocked her up and you guys decided to keep it because you got emotional and it would be your first heir, so you two ended up getting married in a rush and named that baby your actual heir.”

An amused smile curled his lips. “Interesting. Go on.”

“But after the baby, that marriage turned into one full of resentment and then you decided it was a good idea to fuck your secretary.”

“So I live in a porn scenario?” he asked and you nodded.

“Pretty much. Then your wife left you, took away all your things—”

“I don’t have a prenup?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

“Impossible.”

“You don’t exactly have a prenup with me.”

He winked at you. “Maybe I trust you.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” you retorted, making him chuckle. “But yeah, your first wife divorced you. Sorry you had to find out this way.”

“It was good while it lasted, I’m sure.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure, she hates you,” you said airily. “Rightfully, that is. Then you meet your second wife who definitely deserves better than you, but by some miracle she stays with you.”

“Thanks a lot, she sounds amazing.”

“Right?” you said. “There you go. Your two marriages.”

“Very creative,” he pointed out. “Do I recite poetry to her in this scenario?”

“Yes but you also have performance problems so romance makes up for it, in a way,” you stated and he smirked.

“You seem to put a lot of thought into my performance, pillow princess.”

Your jaw dropped as you gasped. “Wh—how dare—you don’t even—”

“Please,” he said. “You dream of a guy reciting poetry to you on your honeymoon.”

You could feel your cheeks burning as you glared daggers at him.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, making him smirk.

“That being said, you have nothing to worry about my performance.”

You rolled your eyes at him while you chewed on your bite, then swallowed it.

“See Bucky, this is exactly why when I divorce you, I’m keeping the ring and the weekend house,” you pointed at him with your fork, coaxing a chuckle out of him. “You’re too arrogant for your own good.”

Chapter 12

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob! bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia bucky barnes #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia bucky x reader #mafia!bucky #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky #mob boss!bucky #mob bucky x reader #mob boss bucky barnes #mob!au #mob au

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misshoneyimhome · 7 months ago

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500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“So you think my legs are just going to magically spread open for you?" I Andrei Svechnikov

Summary; Andrei is keen on asking you out, but considering the typical traits of famous hockey players, you've made a mental note never to be swept off your feet by any of them.

Tropes & warnings; No warnings; reader's working for the Carolina Hurricanes; sort of friends-to-lovers; just fluff really

Other notes; Alrighty babes, so next up for the 500 followers celebration we've got none other than #37 Andrei S. 💓 Truth be told, I wanted to do something like an enemies-to-lovers thing, but I just couldn't with this sweetheart 😉 Still, I hope you like it

Word count; 1.9K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny@justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie

➼｡ﾟ

Another night. Another home game. Another round of work.

You had been working with the Carolina Hurricanes for a few years, and even though you were just an assistant helping with game preparations and clean-up, you felt like nothing less than a part of the hockey family. The players were always friendly, treating you like one of their own, and you simply enjoyed the camaraderie, the playful teasing, and the way they appreciated your hard work.

Some players had even grown closer to you than others, and one in particular stood out: Andrei Svechnikov. It wasn't just his skills on the ice but also how he seemed genuinely interested in you.

From the moment Andrei had seen your sweet smile, he’d been captivated. He admired how you handled your tasks with efficiency and grace, always ready with a kind word or a quick joke. And over time, his crush only grew stronger, yet he didn’t know how to make a move. So he just watched you from the corner of his eye, noticing all the little things: the way you bit your lip when you were focused, the way you laughed with your whole body, and the way your eyes sparkled when you were amused. All these small details only intensified his feelings.

And while not entirely knowing how to handle his own feelings, he, like many young guys on the team, resorted to occasional flirting, trying to get your attention without coming on too strong. He’d make sure to catch your eye during practice, offering a wink or a smile, and he’d find excuses to talk to you, asking for your help with something trivial just to hear your voice. Sometimes, he’d even leave small gifts in your work area – a protein bar, a coffee, a note with a silly drawing – always signed with a simple "A."

You, however, weren’t easily impressed. You knew the reputation hockey players had and had no intention of becoming another story in their dating history. You’d heard the tales of their exploits and the endless parade of girls vying for their attention, and you simply didn’t need to be another notch on anyone’s bedpost, least of all a professional athlete’s. Besides, you liked your job and didn’t want to complicate things with a messy romance.

Yet, despite your resolve, there was something about Andrei that intrigued you. Maybe it was the way he seemed genuinely kind and respectful, never pushing boundaries. Or perhaps it was how he listened when you talked, giving you his full attention as if you were the only person in the room. There were even moments when you caught yourself watching him, appreciating the way he moved, the determination in his eyes, the easy grace with which he handled himself both on and off the ice.

But sill, you kept your guard up, distancing yourself with playful banter and cheeky remarks. Whenever he tried to flirt, you’d respond with a teasing comment, deflecting his advances with a laugh, as it was just easier that way, safer. You didn’t want to risk getting hurt, and you certainly didn’t want to become just another girl on his life.

Andrei, on the other hand, was determined to show you he wasn’t like the rest. He was so much more, and his feelings for you meant something to him. He respected your boundaries, never pushing too hard, and always making sure you were comfortable. His patience was unwavering, and his interest in you was steadfast, so he wanted to prove that he was different and that he cared for you in a way that went beyond superficial attraction.

And the challenge only made him more determined, as he found himself thinking about you more and more. How could he show you that he was serious, that he was genuinely interested in who you were, not just what you looked like? It was a question that kept him up at night, but one he was determined to answer. So, he continued his quiet pursuit, hoping that one day, you’d see him for who he truly was.

However, your defence mechanism didn’t make it easier for him. Your playful banter and cheeky remarks were a strategy that allowed you to maintain a comfortable distance. So when Andrei commented your work, it only made it more difficult for him to get past your walls. Every time he approached you with a compliment, you’d respond with a teasing, “Careful, Svechnikov, flattery may help with ladies out there, but in here, it will get you nowhere.” Even if he simply asked about your day, you’d throw in a cheeky, “Why, planning to steal my job?”

It wasn’t easy for Andrei to make a proper move on you, but as time went on, he kept his hopes high. He even practised a few English phrases that might help when the day finally came for him to ask you out.

And fortunately, that day wasn’t too far away.

One evening, as you were packing up equipment after a game, Andrei lingered nearby, as he’d often done before. The locker room was mostly empty, with the other players having already left or showered, and that’s when he gathered the courage to approach you, his usual confidence mingling with a hint of nervousness.

"Hey, need any help with that?" he offered, his accent colouring his words charmingly.

You looked up, slightly surprised that he hadn’t left like everyone else. "Oh, Andrei, you don’t have to do that. I’m almost done anyway." You flashed him a soft smile.

He couldn’t help but smile in return, leaning against the doorway. "I don’t mind. Besides, I wanted to talk to you."

And that made you raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. "Oh? What about?"

Andrei hesitated for a moment before gently stepping closer to you, leaving only about a metre and a half between you. "I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime. Just us. Maybe dinner?"

You chuckled, shaking your head slightly. "Why?"

It wasn’t an immediate no, he thought to himself, though he felt a slight disappointment when you questioned his intentions.

"So we could spend some time alone together," he emphasised, trying to flash a confident smirk, hiding any hints of nervousness.

However, that only made you think one thing.

"What... is this a bet or something? You ask me out on a date, and you think my legs are just going to magically spread open for you?" You grinned slightly, convinced that the other boys had set him up to it or something.

Andrei's face immediately turned bright red, clearly taken aback by your bluntness. "No, no! That’s not what I meant at all. I just... I really like you y/n, and I want to get to know you better. I’m not like what people say about hockey players. I promise."

You studied his face for a moment, trying to see any hints of falseness or sincerity in his eyes. And so, for a moment, you let your guard down, sensing he might actually be different. "Hmm… Alright, Andrei. One dinner. But if you try anything, you’ll be back to carrying your own gear. Got it?"

He couldn’t help but smile, a sense of relief washing over him. "Got it. I’ll be on my best behaviour."

And as you finished packing up, Andrei helped, and the two of you exchanged playful banter. Maybe, just maybe, he was worth giving a chance.

---

The next day, you found yourself thinking about the upcoming dinner more than you’d like to admit. You replayed the conversation in your mind: the way his eyes lit up when you agreed, the genuine relief in his smile. And it was enough to make you wonder if perhaps you had been too quick to judge him.

And when the evening finally arrived, Andrei gallantly picked you up, looking more nervous than you had ever seen him.

“Wow, you look… krasivaya…” he muttered under his breath as his English failed him.

“Thanks,” you smiled softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you felt your cheeks blush slightly at his compliment. “You look quite good yourself.”

Standing there in the outfit you’d chosen for the night, it seemed that everything was suddenly changing, feeling more soft and romantic compared to the friendly banter you’d been playing at for months, if not years. Similarly, Andrei had chosen to dress up, trading his usual team gear for a smart, casual outfit that suited him well.

And aware of your fondness for casual dinners, the restaurant he had chosen was a cosy Italian place, far from the glitzy spots the players usually frequented. It was intimate, with soft lighting and a warm atmosphere that quickly put you both at ease.

Throughout the evening, you found yourself enjoying his company more than you expected. The conversation flowed easily, and you discovered sides of Andrei you hadn’t seen before. And as the night went on, you realised that maybe, just maybe, you had been too quick to judge. Andrei was different from the image you had of a typical hockey player, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope that this could actually be the start of something special.

Throughout dinner, he was nothing but attentive, asking questions and genuinely listening to your answers. He shared stories from his childhood in Russia, his journey to the NHL, and the challenges he faced along the way. In turn, you found yourself opening up more than you expected, sharing your own dreams and fears.

So when the evening slowly drew to a close, Andrei naturally walked you back to your place. And as often happens in situations like this, there was a moment of hesitation at your door, both of you lingering, not quite ready to say goodbye.

“I had a really good time tonight,” you admitted, surprising yourself with the honesty in your voice. Your eyes were locked on his, a new form of intimacy connecting you both as you’d enjoyed the evening more than you’d expected, just the two of you and away from hockey.

“So did I,” Andrei replied, his eyes softening as he looked at you. He couldn’t help but feel the intensity of the pull he felt towards you, yet he also reminded himself to be patient and, as he’d promised, be on his best behaviour. So, he restrained himself, settling to only imagine what it’d feel like having your lips against his. Instead, he took a deep breath before continuing, “I meant what I said, you know. I like you and want to get to know you better. I’m not like what people say about hockey players—at least, I try not to be.”

You couldn’t suppress a timid smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I’m starting to believe that.”

It was the truth. The evening with Andrei had been nothing short of amazing, and the more you got to know him, the more you started to trust his intentions. And just like that, as if drawn by a magnetic pull, you slowly and very gently leaned in towards him, closing the small gap between you as you let your lips delicately touch his.

It was brief, almost innocent, as you shared this sweet, intimate moment. And as you then slowly pulled back, you couldn’t help but bite your lip, mentally hoping that next time, he wouldn’t be on his best behaviour.

#500 followers festival #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #carolina hurricanes imagine #nhl hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction

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wonwoonlight · 1 year ago

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when mingyu takes jungkook's advice but forgets about one (1) thing

fluff // idol!au // mingyu is dumb in love // sex implied but this drabble is nothing but fluff!!!!!

It's three in the morning when Mingyu turns on the live.

He's still high on adrenaline for some reason; the whole day has been great and not one single thing went wrong even though some schedules got him worried at first. His meals were all exactly to his liking, his exercise went like a breeze, and he got to see you.

Perhaps the last one is what makes him so high. After all, it's been a little over a month since he saw you and finally being able to see you and feel you... gosh it was the closest feeling he would describe as euphoric.

You're currently sleeping in his room, blisfully unaware that your boyfriend has turned on his live just one room away.

"Hi." He grins and waves at the camera. "If you remember I told you some time ago that I'd start listening to a certain senior... here I am."

He fixes his hoodie over his head, happy that the fans seem happy with his wardrobe: a grey sleeveless hoodie with nothing underneath.

"I look like your boyfriend?" His grins widen, his mind flying to you. "Your boyfriend must be very handsome then."

"Hmmm, why do I look happy when it's 3 in the morning? Why? Am I not allowed to be happy at this hour?" He comes closer to his screen to look at the comments. "I'm not drunk! But I might’ve had a liiiiittle bit of alcohol earlier."

The live continues on like that, and between all the crazy things he's seen Jungkook did, he's starting to see why the guy is fond of doing lives at this hour. As an idol, he's usually wide awake at ungodly hours, and even though he knew the company and Seungcheol would have his head tomorrow, he can't be bothered to care at this moment.

He's blaming it on the alcohol too. But by the time he even remotely considers something might go very wrong, he's having too much fun with his fans and he's way too drunk on the happy feeling from everything that has happened during the past 24 hours.

"It's okay. If I get scolded then I get scolded." He addresses the fans' concerns. "They probably won't reupload this so consider this a present for all of you here, okay? Let's have fun while we're at it."

"Mmmmh. Is there nothing fun? Tell me something fun." He frowns as he squints at his screen, trying to read through the comments.

"What I'm wearing underneath this?" He grins teasingly and tugs the neck of his hoodie. "What do you think?"

It's seconds later that the comment section goes crazy, and he blinks in confusion, trying to see why people are screaming. It doesn't help that no one gives him any context until he finally catches one single comment that gets his heart beating so loud he can hear it on his ears.

Was that hickey on your collarbone???

He continues to play stupid, answers some questions that he made up in his mind while pretending to look for one in the comment sections, stays on live for another five minutes before he says he's starting to get sleepy so he needs to go.

He stares into space for a good ten minutes after he turns off the live.

He's fucked.

He's so fucked.

How the fuck is he going to explain this to the company and all of his members tomorrow? At least he's actually been considering going public with you for quite some time, have talked about it with his members and the company also, but this isn't how he imagined it would be.

Biting his lip, he's too lost in his thoughts to realize you've stepped out of your room, looking a little lost also, wondering why he's in the living room.

"Why are you not in bed?" You ask adorably, rubbing your eyes as you plop on the sofa besides him. "And why is your phone propped like that?"

His arm wraps around you and pulls you to his chest, already imagining not having to hide you away anymore after whatever hurricane that will pass tomorrow.

But.

First thing first.

"Babe." He squeezes your shoulder, already feeling sorry at your sleepy hum because he's sure you won't be sleepy after this. But whatever, imagining his future self showing you off to everyone is going to be worth it.

He grins when you look up in confusion, the dangerous grin that you know is up for trouble.

"We might have a problem. "

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu au #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scenario #khione.fics #mingyu scenario #mingyu imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen au #mingyu x reader #mingyu drabble #seventeen drabble #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fic

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catcherintheryuu · 5 months ago

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𝙲𝚘𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚝. 𝚈𝚎𝚓𝚒

1.1k words | barely smut

A/N: Just a little something I wrote in collaboration @i-am-lifeform24 and the other writers. Check out the whole thing: https://www.tumblr.com/i-am-lifeform24/755507436706807808/curated-companions?source=share

It falls, droops past the horizon - and now it’s a blackout. It happens too fast for some people with how cooped up they’ve been: surrendering their time to serve others, earning their keep. It builds up. It stresses them, pushes them over the edge of the barricade, set by whomever, to prevent what's currently happening: them careening on the rocks, skin and flesh tearing at the slightest impact as they get closer and closer to terminal velocity - through impossibility and then some.

And here you are, braving through the settling dusk, arriving only when the moon’s set itself atop your head - smart to procure your services at the dead of night.

Just like always, you perform one last check of yourself - there’s a certain standard that you uphold to yourself; after all, you are being paid and this is the least you could do for these troubled individuals.

It rings, the same annoying, unending, and inevitable ringing that started this escapade. No answer. You check your watch - you’re not late - It ticks and ticks. And for some reason, it mimics the scrambling behind the door of your destination. Enter… well, exit Hwang Yeji, ITZY’s - yes, that ITZY’s - group leader and also your most prominent client so far.

The sight of her prompts you to turn away. “It was me,” she says with the slightest attempt of hiding her chagrin, “I was the one that called for you and… your services.”

Chalk it up to collective karma but somehow the Hwang Yeji is in front of you in all of her glory. Keep calm. She’s not exactly who you had in mind as your first booking for the night but certainly not someone you’d decline - not like you have a choice to begin with.

“Ma’am? Miss? What would you like me to call you?” you say as she lets you through the gate. No response. You’d think she didn’t hear you but you were at arms length with her. And so it was, your words have gone on deaf ears, Yeji’s ears as a consolation, but not what you’d call welcoming, so you decide to take matters into your own hands - aka doing your job. “Yej-”

Her dainty fingers meet your lips - salty and shaking. Yeji pulls you to the walls, narrowly avoiding the lighthouse-of-a-light from the windows. “Look,” she whispers in the most breathy way possible like she’s got a finger sticking through her rib, “don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not exactly allowed to be seen with a man… especially in hours like these.”

“Yeji,” you take her by her wrists, “colour me rude, but my time isn’t exactly cheap. You should know that.”

“Of course!” Yeji gets a bit too defensive, accidentally flaring her voice out, “fu-” She mumbles, spits even, as your hand interrupts her expletive, something you didn’t expect would come out so naturally from an idol’s mouth - both the word and bodily fluid.

“Really? Is this what the Hwang Yeji is capable of?”

Yeji pouts, craning her neck down, putting her eyes on full display as they take shelter under her furrowed brows.

“Got something to say?” You’ve laid your hands on her already, albeit not sensually so why not go further - trace a finger on her chin, your nail skating along her nerves, dropping further until you start to thumb her collarbone. Her jaw slacks and she tries to let a word out, however, you’ve sucker punched her, taken the wind out of her sails - your finger a hurricane that stirs something inside her.

Her string of words - not even - are barely able to make it through, “Y-you… I want you.”

Yeji is as upfront and direct as one can be, and it still somehow takes you aback. “M-may I ask abou- what about me -” you pause, recompose, “- in particular has got you wanting me?” You’re stumbling on her stairway.

She goes a step too far - a step too close - Yeji leans, places her body weight on your shoulders, pushing you through her door. She props herself up on your shoulders and whispers, “Are we really going to waste time on this?” Caught up in the moment, you couldn’t help but stare - how this creature of myth nuzzles its way to the crook of your neck, how it looks up at you with this unmarred admiration, the same unquestioned look lemmings have before they go plunging down the cliffs..

Yeji debunks it all - an urban legend - with just her lips, the coming to blows of your lips. She’s kissing you, the soft little tug on your clothes, that little look of a successful leap of faith. It’s needy, messy as her tongue slips through your slack jaw. It’s this heavy intoxication that has you feeling like you’re at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, like you’ve just woken up from a heady herbal mix of a concoction.

It takes a few minutes - a few minutes of lips locked together, tongues wrapping around each other - before you realise the gravity of the situation. Your lips part, instead you take her by wrists, feeling her ramping pulse, and turn her around, back to your torso. “Is this what you had in mind when you called?” you say, thumbing her jaw.

“Ok, don’t judge,” Yeji starts, pausing for a slight moment of repose, “but I… I was looking for something rough, you know? Some stress relief, maybe? Nothing beats getting thrown on the bed with no regards, have my hair pulled, oh God…”

“Hell, you could have had me gagging on that cock of yours,” she bundles herself tight into your arms, rubs her dainty ass on your cock, “maybe even filled to the brim with your hot cu- Sorry…”

Two, maybe three, hours ago, this person in your arms was yet to be Yeji, and now you’ve eased yourself into her ribs - being the lingering annoyance that could either get her smiling from cheek to cheek or satisfy her more masochistic side.

You wrap around her with a tad bit of desperation, perhaps realising that your time is running out. “Hey,” you dip your lips into her nape, “I’m not objecting.” Yeji’s head falls back, “God, you’re cute…” She flushes pink - plum - her ivory-like teeth spilling at the corners.

She draws the vowels out, “So you’d ruin someone cute? Someone like m-”

“Yes. Someone like you.” Your eyes meet, and you give her one last kiss. “Fuck - sorry - this is nice but I have other clients to attend to. I gave you an extra hour… just cause, but I really would have loved to meet your expectations. Why don’t you book me again tomorrow?”

“No,” a giggle escapes her lips, “no way you thought I was that much of a cheapskate?”

“Sorry?” You tilt your head quizzically, brows furrowing.

“I booked you for the whole twenty four hours, dummy.”

ps: idk why I posted this so late

#kpop smut #male reader #kpop gg #yeji smut #kpop drabbles

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aimedis · 5 months ago

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redacted asmr hcs pt. 7 - d.a.m.n crew edition

-ironically, damien can’t handle spicy food (and funnily enough, lasko can)

-damien used to wear huxley’s jacket to his games (afterwards, huxley would always find damien so he could give him the biggest hug ever)

-gavin and freelancer can have conversations without actually saying anything, just by making little faces at each other (not even through telepathy or demon magic, they're just that in tune with each other)

-freelancer has the cutest sneeze and the guys never fail to let them know

-the d.a.m.n crew all collectively agree that freelancer is just the sweetest person ever (for freelancer's birthday, they all made a 50+ page detailed as fuck slideshow on why they were the best friend/partner ever) ((they cried a lot that day))

-damien hates the rain (not even because of his powers or anything he just genuinely does not like rainy weather)

-gavin quite literally being the embodiment of thinking with his dick

-freelancer is always in gavin’s lap

-freelancer and gavin have necklaces with the other’s initial/name on it (they're literally call it what you want by taylor swift)

-whenever lasko makes dirty jokes it’s always unintentional (in a ‘letting the intrusive thoughts win’ way) and he always acts shocked he said what he said afterwards ((he’s subconsciously learned to not have much of a filter around the d.a.m.n squad and it only got worse after being with dear))

-caelum rifts into gavin and freelancer’s bedroom and jumps on top of them to cuddle for a little (he loves falling asleep on freelancer’s chest)

-gavin knew the exact moment damien and huxley got together and was just silently proud of and happy for them

-lasko and coworker as a hurricane & damien and huxley as a volcano

-gavin and freelancer spoil the other so much

-the d.a.m.n squad have cuddle piles

-freelancer is obsessed with mac and cheese (same)

-coworker tells all their students to just call them by their name without miss/mister because it makes them feel hella old

-gavin and freelancer calling each other “bitch”

-freelancer was the first friend damien had to make him feel truly loved

-whenever lasko’s partner runs their fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly it puts him straight to sleep

-lasko and damien get into political debates (arguments about which of their favourite books/movies is better) ((they also just bicker really often))

-damien ruffles freelancer’s hair like an older brother would

-the damn group have pool parties at huxley and damien’s house pretty often (freelancer wears bikini bottoms and gavin spends the whole day trying to flirt with them)

-freelancer gets stomach aches so often to the point where huxley asks them if their stomach hurts today every time they meet up

-dear has a habit of lying about the most random things for no reason. it's not even believable but they just talk with the straightest face and when you ask "really?" they say "no, wtf?" ("yeah i used to be a gymnast. i won like three national titles" "oh my god really? that's awe-" "no.") ((they think it's the funniest thing in the world))

-huxley wipes stuff (food, dust etc.) off of damien’s face for him. outright refuses to let him do it for himself

-freelancer refers to the crew as their bitches (they're not wrong)

-dear is the most calming presence anyone has been around (damien falls asleep around/on them so often)

-the first time dear called lasko babe/baby he literally almost passed out from how much blood rushed to his face (huxley may or may not have witnessed it and had to fan his face for several minutes)

-freelancer, lasko and damien have little trio dates

-freelancer moans at random to be funny and damien has actually started fighting them for it

-the crew has karaoke fairly often (they can all sing pretty well but sometimes they just choose to sing terribly)

-because damien and freelancer have the most sibling-like relationship in the group, they fight quite often. the arguments aren't always awful but they get bad occasionally (they went no contact for almost a week until dear decided to play mediator and forced them to talk it out)

-lasko doodles the group in different art styles in his free time (gavin found the drawings and said it was cute before lasko could start panicking)

-the crew has made a habit out of hanging out in lasko and dear's offices during breaks, even if neither of them are inside

-since freelancer was the last to graduate, everyone showed up to their ceremony and they all screamed louder than anyone else in the crowd

-the crew welcomed dear into the group so easily it's like they've always been apart of the family

-however, the moment that officially solidified them as one of them was the first time they cried in front of them all after about a year of meeting (it was the anniversary of their grandfather's death and they couldn't hold it together)

-lasko is a billion times more confident on his private instagram and twitter accounts

-freelancer goes into a food coma whenever they're even slightly full so after every friendsgiving meal, they take a nap on the couch for like half an hour

-dear and damien are the resident chefs of the group (the first time dear cooked around them all, damien swore for half a second he was in love with them)

-dear is the true mom friend of the group

damihux are bokuaka coded whooo said that?????

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted damien #redacted freelancer #bokuaka #redacted damn crew #redacted headcanons #redacted huxley #redacted gavin #redacted lasko #redacted dear #damihux is acc my otp guys #kae's headcanons

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slut4evanpeters · 2 months ago

Text

My baby, My baby

kyle spencer x reader

song i recommend listening to: i bet on loosing dogs by mitski

warnings: EXTREME angst, very slow burn (im a slut for a back story), kyles past, manipulation, mentions of SA, objectification of men, arguing, fluff, happy ending, i think thats it!

word count: 6.5k

notes: this one is kind of heavy im so sorry guys:( theres not enough fics that give kyle the justice he deserves 😞 not even gonna lie i started bawling while proofreading this. also i would just wanna put out there that if you are struggling with ANYTHING my dms are always open to talk:)

It was just an average chilly night when you found it out.

The familiar sounds of your mother and father arguing once again filled the silence, voices bouncing down the empty hallways and ringing in your ears. For weeks now, the yelling and the clash of words had become as common as the ticking of the clock sitting on your shelf. It started with the usual pattern. Your father muttering something unnecessary, your mother shooting back, voice like glass ready to shatter. And then, like clockwork, things would escalate. A plate shattering, a door slamming, the sharp clinking of silverware as it Falls to the floor. Somewhere along the line, you’d learned to tune it out, even finding a strange comfort in it all.

But tonight was different.

A raw, intense throbbing in your head amplified the shouting in a way that pushed you over the edge. Something inside you snapped, like a thread pulled just a bit too tight. You threw your thick, silk duvet off in one swift motion, the cool air meeting your skin as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. Your bare feet sank into the plush carpet, the fibers soft as you steadied yourself and took a breath.

Without another thought, you crossed the room with swift steps, each one heavy with frustration. Reaching for the door, you grabbed the handle and flung it open, the force sending a slight echo through the hallway.

The sound of your feet slamming against each step echoes through the house as you storm down the stairs, your frustration at your parents boiling over in your chest. Every stomp is a silent scream. You’ve been holding back, but this time, they’ve pushed you past the point of reason.

As you reach the bottom, you stop, breathing heavily. The air is tense, almost vibrating. Your eyes fix on your parents in the kitchen. Your father, lips pressed thin, hands gripping the countertop, and your mother, her face unreadable but her body tense, holding herself with a dangerous stillness. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but before you can speak, your mother turns. In one swift motion, she reaches for the knife block and pulls out the biggest blade.

The metallic glint catches in the light, and your breath halts. The kitchen feels like it’s shrunk to the size of a shoebox, every noise amplified, every heartbeat throbbing in your ears. You watch, frozen, as she raises the knife, her arm cocked and ready to strike. Your father stumbles back, hands up defensively, panic widening his eyes.

Without thinking, you scream, the sound raw and desperate, shattering the air like glass.

And then. Silence.

A thick, heavy silence, as if the whole world is holding its breath. Your eyes stay fixed on your mother, but you feel something different. A strange, burning energy coursing through you, pulsing from your chest to the tips of your fingers, as if an invisible string connects you to her.

With a sudden violent burst, your mother’s body flies back, her limbs flailing as if she’s caught in a hurricane. She’s thrown against the wall with a bone-shaking crash, and the framed pictures around her rattle off their hooks, crashing to the floor and splintering into shards. The knife slips from her hand, skittering across the floor.

You’re panting, your own heart thundering, and for a moment, the world spins, feeling somehow both right and wrong, as if you’ve crossed an invisible line.

Your father stares at you, his face drained of color. His mouth opens slightly, but no words come out, only an expression of sheer terror. Without another glance, he bolts for the front door, slamming it behind him , leaving you and your mother alone in the wreckage.

You turn to her, her eyes wide and wild as she slowly lifts herself from the floor, her breath ragged. She seems smaller somehow, her gaze darting between you and the chaos in the room. She finally looks at you directly, eyes brimming with fear, and in a trembling, barely audible whisper, she says, “You’re…one of them.”

The words echo in your mind, heavy and unfamiliar. One of them? You feel the weight of her accusation, the horror in her voice, and yet, beneath it all, a strange sense of power fills you. A darkness, a part of you that’s been waiting in silence for this very moment.

That’s how you find yourself standing before the tall white mansion, Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. The building stands before you, grand and stoic, its intricate columns rising up to the ceiling high before you. You glance up, taking in the massive structure. a place that feels like something out of a dream. Or maybe a nightmare. The sheer size of it makes you feel small, and yet, the air around it seems charged, humming with an energy that you can’t quite place.

The events that led you here flash before your eyes in quick memories. The look of terror on your mother’s face after you threw her back against the wall, her whispered words about being “one of them,” and the silence as she drove you away from the only home you’d ever known. Her voice, low and hesitant, echoed in your mind as she explained that your family had a history with witches and unbeknownst to you, magic coursed through your blood, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

“Blessed.” she said, but the word tasted sour. Blessed. That’s how she’d framed it, though her face had twisted with fear as she said it, as if she could barely look at you, barely stomach the person her daughter had become.

You’d rolled your eyes at her, that one last act of defiance as she’d tried to make sense of what had happened, desperately clinging to the idea that this was some sort of gift. A gift. The idea was almost laughable. If being able to throw your mother across a room was a blessing, it felt more like a curse. But now, staring up at the mansion, all of that seems to drift away, replaced by a strange, thrill.

Taking a deep breath, you clutch your purse tightly, the leather cool and smooth against your palm. You begin to walk up the stairs, each step echoing through the morning air. Your heels click rhythmically against the hard concrete, the sound bouncing off the towering Greek pillars that flank either side of you. You feel their presence, cold and impassive, as if they’re watching, judging.

The further you ascend, the more the air seems to thicken, charged with a strange energy that sends a shiver down your spine. Each step brings you closer to a new world, a world that feels like it’s already reaching out to pull you in, whether you’re ready or not. With one final click of your heel on the top step, you stand before the doors, the shadows cast by the pillars now stretching long and deep around you. You pause, feeling the weight of what lies beyond.

You straighten, squaring your shoulders, your grip tightening on your purse as you prepare to enter this place. A place that promises answers and, perhaps, even more questions.

You raise your hand, hesitating for a second as your knuckles hover over the door’s dark wood, a mixture of dread and anticipation twisting in your stomach. But you gather yourself, take a deep breath, and knock sharply on the door. The sound echoes hollowly through the heavy wood.

For a few seconds, there’s nothing but silence. You feel your pulse quicken as you wait, each second stretching on, amplifying the strange energy that’s lingered around you since you first set eyes on the mansion. Then, faint footsteps approach, growing louder, until finally, the door creaks open with a low, drawn-out groan that sounds almost otherworldly.

Standing before you is a woman, elegant and composed, with hair as golden as sunlight and eyes so deep a shade of brown that they’re nearly black, with a glint in them that’s both welcoming and mysterious. She stands tall, her posture regal yet effortless, wearing a fitted black dress with an intricate lace collar that radiates of old-world elegance. Her gaze meets yours, and for a split second, you feel as if she’s peering not just at you, but into you, as if she’s seen something hidden beneath the surface that even you haven’t fully recognized.

Then, she smiles, warm but with an edge of something unreadable, something secret. “Hello,” she says, her voice low and rich, “You must be Y/N.”

The way she says your name feels oddly intimate, as though she’s known it long before you arrived, as though the house itself whispered it to her. You feel a faint shiver ripple down your spine.

“Welcome,” she continues, her smile widening slightly as she steps aside, gesturing with a graceful hand for you to enter. There’s an invitation in her eyes, a silent, unspoken question, as if she’s asking if you’re truly ready for what lies within these walls.

With one last steadying breath, you cross the threshold. The air inside feels different, heavier somehow, steeped in a strange, stillness that makes you feel both protected and slightly trapped. You take in your surroundings, the grand foyer that stretches before you with polished marble floors gleaming beneath a glittering crystal chandelier. The chandelier casts fragmented light across the room, the crystals catching beams of sunlight from the windows and scattering them in delicate patterns across the walls and floor.

The scent of polished wood, and something faintly floral lingers in the air. It’s almost intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the place. You feel like you’ve stepped into another world. A world filled with secrets, shadows, and, somewhere beneath it all, an energy that hums with life, with power. The headmistress closes the door behind you with a quiet click that sounds like the sealing of a pact. Final and irreversible.

“I’m Cordelia,” she introduces herself, her voice steady and clear as she walks ahead, gesturing for you to follow. You can feel her watching you out of the corner of her eye, studying your every reaction, every flicker of emotion. There’s a subtle power to her movements, an authority that makes it clear she’s not merely the headmistress here. She’s the keeper of the academy’s secrets, the protector of its legacy.

As you follow her, each step echoing through the silent hallways, your heart beats a little faster. The mansion seems to stretch endlessly before you, filled with doors that are closed tight and shadows that cling to the corners. You wonder how many secrets these walls have witnessed, how many others have walked these halls with their own stories, their own fears.

Cordelia leads you deeper into the academy, her voice a steady presence as she tells you about Miss Robichaux's history, about the students who have come before you, and the purpose of the coven. But beneath her words, you sense an unspoken warning, a weight behind her voice as if she’s cautioning you. This world you’ve entered, it is not one to tread lightly.

You turn to your right, the polished marble floor beneath your heels as you step toward an open doorway. Through it, you catch a glimpse of what appears to be an dining room. The room is bathed in soft, natural light streaming through towering windows, casting a glow over the polished, table, long and grand, stretching nearly the length of the room.

At the far end, you notice a figure with platinum blonde hair, sitting with her back turned to you. Even without seeing her face, you feel a flicker of recognition. There’s an aura around her something powerful and dark. You’re not sure if it’s an instinct or an unease growing in the pit of your stomach, but it grips you, pulling your attention to her as if by force.

Then, abruptly, a searing pain spikes in your temples. You wince, clutching your head as a blinding flash fills your vision. In an instant, you’re pulled into a rush of images. Memories that are not your own, tumbling through your mind like a storm. You feel yourself slip, like falling into a chasm, as the world around you fades away.

Suddenly, you’re somewhere else.

The air is thick and you find yourself watching a girl. Her, Madison Montgomery, and she’s screaming. The scene shifts with a terrifying clarity, the details vivid and overwhelming. You see Madison, younger, her face twisted in horror and rage, as flames erupt around her. There’s a flash of red carpet, crushed beneath her feet as she stumbles back, staring at her hands, realizing what she’s done. The fire she’s conjured licks up the walls, and her eyes are wide, reflecting the flames that seem to both captivate and terrify her.

Another memory pulls you in, like you’re tumbling helplessly through her life. You see her standing in front of an audience, lights beaming down on her, cameras flashing. Fame surrounds her, yet there’s emptiness in her eyes. The applause seems to fade, the crowd a blur of faceless figures. She’s alone, trapped in a world that once promised her everything and now feels hollow. The lights dim and the applause fades, and a darkness consumes her.

Then, another sharp shift. You find yourself in a dark room with dim, flickering candles casting eerie shadows on the walls. Madison’s face is contorted in a strange focus, her hands trembling over a mangled body on a table. A young man, Kyle Spencer. His broken, lifeless form lies beneath her hands, stitched together, his face pale and still. You can feel her desperation, a fierce determination mingled with guilt and something close to madness as she tries to force him back to life. A chant of a spell echoes in the room. She’s chanting, her voice loud and confident, but laced with fear and hope, until finally, Kyle’s chest rises with a shuddering gasp. But the moment isn’t joyous. It’s dark and twisted, a resurrection not for his sake, but for hers. Pain and control.

The images blur, but you see glimpses. Madison’s hand clenched around Kyle’s wrist as if to anchor him, her mocking words, the way she manipulates and taunts him, asserting her dominance over him, reminding him of his dependence. Her eyes are cold, her smile cruel, and a sick feeling settles in your stomach as the vision fades, lingering in your mind with the weight of something real and terrible.

You snap back to reality with a sharp gasp, stumbling slightly as the dining room floods back into focus. You blink rapidly, your vision still swimming, disoriented by the vivid intensity of what you just saw. The blonde figure before you shifts, and Madison turns, her gaze settling on you with a piercing, almost predatory look.

Her lips curl into a smirk, her eyes raking over you in a way that feels both dismissive and mocking. “Well, well,” she drawls, crossing her arms as she leans against the table, clearly amused by your disorientation. “Look who’s already having visions. Must be so special,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Her head tilts slightly, eyes narrowed as she assesses you with that haughty, almost venomous look. “Hope you enjoyed the show,” she says with a smug grin. “Though it’s a little rude to peek into people’s private moments. But, hey, you’ll learn manners eventually… or not.” She waves a dismissive hand, as if the whole thing is beneath her, yet her eyes glint with something sharper, a challenge or even a warning.

You’re still reeling, the images of her life blurring and pulsing in your mind. The way she toyed with Kyle, her cruelty and need for control, make your stomach churn. But Madison only grins wider, taking in your reaction with a look of smug satisfaction. “You’re gonna have so much fun here.” she purrs, her voice laced with a mocking sweetness.

And with a dramatic flip of her hair, she brushes past you, leaving a trail of cold disdain in her wake, and you’re left standing there, still shaken, feeling like you’ve glimpsed something you were never meant to see.

The next few days at Miss Robichaux's Academy have been a blend of fascination and unease. Adjusting has come easier than expected, with Cordelia and the other witches offering support knowing what you’re going through. You’ve met Zoe, Queenie, and Nan. Each of them are unique, with stories of their own, kind in ways that contrast against Madison’s cold, snotty attitude. Cordelia had explained that witches like you are becoming rare, power that can vanish in a generation without new blood.

But in the days that followed, your mind kept returning to him. The boy from your vision. Kyle. Despite never having seen him around the mansion, you could feel his presence, an unmistakable energy that screamed in the quiet corridors. It was as though he was always just out of sight, a shadow in your periphery, drawing you closer.

And then, one night, it happens.

You walk down the darkened hallways, the silence thick and heavy as a blanket around you. The dim glow of antique lights casts shadows that dance across the polished floors. Your pajama pants brush softly against your ankles, and your loose tank top, slipping off one shoulder, sways with each step. You round a corner when you hear muffled voices coming from a partially open door at the end of the hall.

“Kyle, come on… you know you want to,” Madison’s voice coos, her tone slick with manipulation.

You stop, heart pounding, her voice igniting a strange anger within you. The desperation in her tone, laced with a mocking condescension, is unmistakable.

Then, a softer voice replies, wavering, vulnerable. “No… just want to lay.”

Your pulse spikes with pure rage. You can feel the raw vulnerability in his voice, the hurt hidden beneath it, and without thinking, you stride toward the door and shove it open, letting it slam against the wall with a sharp slam. The sound echoes down the hall as you step into the room.

Kyle is standing there, and for a fleeting moment, your gaze locks with his. His blonde hair falls messily over his face, and his eyes are lost, haunted. Almost like he’s caught in a place he can’t escape. And then, before you can fully register the moment, the world blurs, a wave of energy washing over you, and you’re pulled into another vision.

It starts with a flash of warmth, light hearted laughter filling the air, and the scent of a beach. You’re suddenly witnessing fragments of Kyle’s life, moments of innocence and freedom. There he is, laughing with friends, his arm slung around his friends shoulders, carefree and bright. You feel his joy, the warmth of his spirit, the love he holds for his friends. The happiness and tenderness are so real that your heart aches with the beauty of it.

But then the vision shifts violently, twisting into something dark. You see a glimpse of the accident. The crash. Kyle’s face, pale and filled with terror as metal twists and glass shatters. Then, everything fades to black, and you’re thrust into a world of agonizing silence. When light returns, it’s cold and sterile, the beeping of machines and the murmur of voices mixing with a sickening. Energy. Madison’s voice echoes somewhere nearby, and you’re forced to watch as she brings him back. A mangled body, stitched together in a desperate, twisted act of resurrection. The confusion and pain in his eyes as he awakens, no longer whole, haunt you deeply. You feel his fractured mind, his broken spirit, bound to her. Trapped, a puppet brought back against his will.

You gasp, the vision dissipating as reality floods back. The intensity of Kyle’s memories leaves you unsteady, the pain and horror clinging to you like a shadow. Your heart is racing, breaths shallow as you try to shake off the raw ache his past has imprinted upon you.

Madison is there, watching you with a smirk, her arms crossed as she leans back with a mocking grin. “A little dramatic, don’t you think?” she sneers, raising an eyebrow as if the whole thing were some sort of twisted game. “Enjoy the show?” She tilts her head, a sly smile curling on her lips. "Kyle’s mine, you know. You don’t get to swoop in and play savior just because you had a little vision.”

Ignoring her, you turn your gaze to Kyle. His eyes meet yours, and in them, you see the desperation, the fear, the fragments of a person he used to be. He’s trembling, caught in the haze of what’s left of his mind. Trapped between the past and this present that he never chose.

Without thinking, you open your arms to him, and something in his broken gaze shifts. He stumbles forward, instinctively, his body drawn to the comfort you offer. The moment he’s within reach, he collapses into your embrace, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly. He clings to you as if you’re a lifeline, his shoulders trembling as he buries his face against you. You can feel the tension in him easing, his erratic breathing slowing as he finally allows himself to feel safe.

Madison scoffs, rolling her eyes. “How touching,” she says, her voice laced with sarcasm, but you don’t even look at her. Your focus is entirely on Kyle, the broken boy now nestled in your arms, finding peace in your presence, perhaps for the first time since his resurrection.

As Kyle clings to you, his trembling form pressed against yours, another wave of energy pulses through you. It starts subtly, like a storm gathering within, and before you can stop it, another vision consumes you, pulling you deeper into Kyle’s fractured memories.

You’re standing in a small, dimly lit living room, worn and filled with the faint scent of stale cigarettes and bitterness of regret. There’s a woman Kyle’s mother, sitting on an old couch, her face pale and drawn, her gaze empty yet intense as she stares into the distance. Her features are gaunt, tired, but beneath the weariness is a sharpness, a bitterness that lingers in her eyes. She’s alone, her glassy stare betraying a lifetime of disappointment. You can almost feel the sorrow that hangs heavy in the air.

Then you see Kyle enter, younger, vibrant, his innocent smile lighting up the room despite the dark atmosphere. He glances at her with a look of hope, like a son yearning for approval, a glimpse of the mother he remembers from before. But her gaze drifts past him, unfocused, as though she’s looking right through him, her expression indifferent.

Suddenly, the vision shifts, blurring into darker moments, fragmented yet clear. You see Kyle in that same room, older now, his face worn with a new kind of sorrow as his mother’s hand trails over his shoulder, her touch possessive, her gaze twisted with a strange, warped affection. You feel his discomfort, his shame, the confusion that cloud his mind as he tries to pull away, his mother’s grip tightening, her twisted need for any semblance of maternal love.

In a desperate attempt to escape, Kyle withdraws into himself, retreating to a place in his mind that shields him from the reality around him. You feel his heartbreak, his sense of betrayal by the one person he should have been able to trust. The love he held for her is forced down, locked away as he learns to numb himself, his spirit fragmenting bit by bit with each encounter.

The vision shifts again, flashing back to the day he left for college, eager for freedom, for the chance to live a life on his own terms. You feel his hope, his relief as he steps away from that house, from her, determined to start fresh. But even then, a part of him carries the scars, the weight of her twisted hold over him. Darkness he can’t quite escape.

The vision ends abruptly, leaving you breathless and shaken, the horror of Kyle’s past etched vividly in your mind. You blink, reeling from the raw emotions that still linger, struggling to ground yourself as you return to the present.

Kyle’s grip on you tightens, his fingers clutching your shoulders as if sensing your understanding. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability that shatters you. There’s an unspoken plea in his gaze, a yearning to be seen, to be understood. His face is etched with pain, haunted by the memories that linger in both of you now. You reach out, gently cupping his face, your thumb brushing softly against his cheek, grounding him, letting him know he’s safe.

Madison stands nearby, her smirk faltering as she takes in the scene, her cruel facade wavering. But you don’t spare her a glance. You’re focused entirely on Kyle, your heart breaking for the boy who’s suffered so much, who’s been broken and betrayed by those who should have protected him.

“Hey.” you whisper softly, your voice a quiet promise. “You’re not alone, Kyle. Not anymore.”

He sinks further into your embrace, and for the first time, you feel him relax. A fragile sense of peace settling over him as he clings to the one person who’s finally offered him the compassion he’s longed for.

You pull back slightly from Kyle, feeling the warmth of his hold reluctantly loosen as you meet his eyes. There's a quiet plea in them, a vulnerability he rarely shows anyone, and you gently brush a strand of his hair back, offering him a small nod of reassurance.

“I’ll be back, Kyle,” you say softly, your voice steady despite the fury burning within you.

With one last reassuring look, you stand, directing your attention to Madison. She watches with a raised eyebrow, her mouth twisted in a smirk that only fuels the fire inside you. Her arms are crossed, as if nothing she’s done could possibly be considered wrong.

You take a deep breath, then step forward, your voice low and edged with a cold fury. “Madison… What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She raises her brows in mock surprise and fake innocence. "Oh, calm down,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes as she tilts her head to the side. "I was just… entertaining him.” She shrugs nonchalantly, her voice dripping with a fake sweetness that makes your stomach turn. "Not my fault he can’t take a little fun.”

You feel your fists clench involuntarily, your nails digging into your palms as you try to control the anger coursing through you. “Entertaining?” you repeat, your voice shaking as you take a step closer. “Is that what you call it? Tormenting someone who’s already been through hell, treating him like he’s your puppet?”

Madison rolls her eyes, her mouth twisting into a smirk. “Look, he wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me. I brought him back, remember? That’s more than anyone else has ever done for him. Maybe he should be a little more… grateful.” Her words are sharp, laced with that biting sarcasm she wears like armor.

Kyle shifts uncomfortably on the floor, his eyes downcast, clearly torn by the twisted logic in her words. Seeing him struggle makes your anger flare hotter. You step protectively in front of him, blocking Madison’s view of him entirely. “Grateful? Grateful?” You scoff, a bitter laugh escaping as you shake your head. “Grateful for being dragged back into a nightmare he didn’t ask for? For being manipulated and humiliated by you?”

Madison’s eyes narrow, and for the first time, you see a flicker of anger in her expression. “You don’t get it, do you?” she snaps, her voice growing colder. “This world isn’t made for people who play nice. I know what I want, and I take it. That’s what it means to have power.”

“Power?” you spit back, your voice sharp as steel. “Power doesn’t mean breaking people down just because you can. Real power is knowing when to stop. When to help rather than harm.”

Madison’s jaw tightens, her smile gone, replaced by a thin line of resentment. She scoffs, crossing her arms more tightly across her chest, her stance rigid and defensive. “Please,” she says, her voice biting. “You think playing the savior makes you any different? You’ll get tired of it. You’ll realize that people only want you when you’re useful to them. Like him.” She gestures dismissively to Kyle without even looking at him.

“That’s enough,” you say, voice rising as your anger breaks through. You’re inches from her now, your gaze locked in an intense stare-down. “Kyle’s not some possession for you to toy with. He’s a person, and he deserves better than this… better than you.”

Madison stares back, her lips pressed into a thin, furious line. She looks at you with a mixture of despise and something that almost resembles vulnerability, but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared. “Fine,” she says sharply, taking a step back. “If you want to play caretaker, be my guest. But don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not worth the trouble.” She shoots Kyle one last look, her eyes cold as ice.

Without waiting for a response, she turns on her heel and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The sound echoes through the walls, the silence that follows thick and tense, lingering in the space she left behind.

You stand there, breathing heavily, letting the anger slowly drift away as the reality of what just happened settles in. Turning back, you see Kyle sitting there, his face a mixture of confusion, relief, and a hint of awe, as if he can hardly believe someone stood up for him.

Softening, you lower yourself back down beside him, reaching out to take his hand gently in yours. “It’s okay,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “She’s gone. I’m here now… and I’m not going anywhere.”

The next morning, sunlight streams softly through the curtains, and as your eyes flutter open. You find yourself still propped against the wall. Kyle is asleep in your lap, his head heavy and his breathing slow and uneven. His face is turned slightly toward you, his features softened by sleep but still carrying the marks of his trauma. Creases of worry, faint bruises that never seem to fully fade, exhaustion that rests permanently under his eyes. He looks so worn and fragile, more like a lost child than the broken soul of a man sitting with you now.

Gently, you trace the outline of his cheekbone, noticing every detail of his face. His muscles twitch slightly under your touch, and his brow furrows as if even in sleep, he’s struggling. But he doesn’t wake, and you let yourself take in this quiet moment, heart aching for what he’s endured. You can almost feel the scars his past has left on him. He’s been hurt so much, lost so much of himself. But there’s a resilience in him. Flickers of hope beneath the pain that keeps him moving forward.

As the morning stretches into day, you stay close to him, sharing quiet moments and small reassurances. Even though words are often lost between you, there’s a silent understanding growing. Comfort that comes just from being together. Every so often, he looks at you with that same hesitant expression, as though he’s not quite sure if he deserves this.

By evening, you find yourselves in the garden. The air is filled with the sweet scent of flowers, and the dimming sunlight casts long shadows across the cobblestone paths. You sit on a weathered stone bench, surrounded by vibrant roses and tall hedges that offer some privacy. Kyle sits beside you, stiff and tense, his hands loosely clasped in his lap as he stares at the ground, as though he’s reluctant to look up.

He seems more restless tonight, his hands occasionally twitching, his gaze flickering to the flowers and back down. Finally, he attempts to speak, his voice low and halting. “I… feel… wro..ng.” His words are slow, each one seemingly pulled out with effort. “Like... b-broken pieces… that don’t fit.”

Your heart tightens as you hear the struggle in his voice, the way he’s trying to put together the broken pieces of himself to explain what he feels. He’s more hesitant than usual tonight, his voice disjointed, eyes darting around as though he’s worried the darkness within him.

His gaze drops, and you see the pain there, the deep confusion and shame as he mumbles, almost to himself, “I’m not… enough. N-not… me.”

You take his hand, feeling the tension in his fingers, the roughness of his knuckles. “Kyle,” you say softly, leaning closer so he can hear you clearly. “You’re here, and that means so much. You’re stronger than all the things that have happened to you. You’re not broken.”

He blinks at you, confusion and a spark of hope flickering across his face. “I… try,” he murmurs, his voice catching, as if he’s not sure if trying will ever be enough. He lifts his hand to his face, running a hand over the lines of his face, his eyes dark with the memories of the things done to him. The things that have fractured him.

“You’re not alone, Kyle,” you say firmly, squeezing his hand. “And I’ll stay by your side. You don’t have to go through this by yourself.”

He nods, slowly, his eyes fixed on yours with an almost childlike vulnerability, and he lets out a breath he’s been holding in. His hand, slightly trembling, reaches out, brushing against your arm. For a moment, he just looks at you, his face softening, some of the tension easing as he absorbs the comfort you offer.

“Thank……you,” he murmurs, his voice so quiet you almost miss it. It’s rough and broken, but there’s something genuine in it, something that feels fragile. He leans into you slightly, his head resting against your shoulder, and you feel his body begin to relax, the weight of his tension slowly fading.

In the evening air, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of the garden, you sit together in silence. The stars slowly emerge in the sky above, casting a faint light over the garden, and for the first time, Kyle seems to let go, trusting that he’s safe here with you.

A couple of months had passed since the night Kyle finally opened up to you in the garden, and everything felt like it had shifted. The dark moments that had once defined his life began to fade, replaced by something softer, something that held warmth and hope. You’d spent every day by his side, helping him with patience and kindness as he took small steps toward healing. And now, looking back on those early days, you were amazed at how far he’d come.

The academy felt lighter, like a home. The other witches had become like a family to you, each one adding their own kind of magic (literally) to your life. Even Cordelia seemed to gleam with pride whenever she saw Kyle opening up or laughing with the rest of you. Madison, of course, still sneered and offered her sarcastic remarks, but her bitterness was easy to ignore now. Her words had lost their sting. In every way things were better than you could have ever hoped.

One afternoon, you found yourself out in the garden again, Kyle’s favorite spot in the academy. The sun was setting, casting a golden haze over the flowers and filling the air with the scent of roses and freshly turned earth. You were both kneeling side by side, hands deep in the soil as you planted a new bed of wildflowers. Kyle had grown fond of gardening. There was something about the calmness of it, the gentle, nurturing process that seemed to bring him peace.

As you finished placing the last flower into the soil, Kyle turned to you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. There was still something a little unsteady in his gaze, but his eyes held warmth. There was spark that hadn’t been there before.

“You… helped m-me…. find this,” he said, his voice more sure now, each word steadier than they used to be. “This peace.”

You smiled back, brushing a smudge of dirt from his cheek. “You’ve done most of it yourself, you know. You’re stronger than you think, Kyle.”

He looked down, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he fumbled with the edge of a leaf, as though gathering his courage. “But… you didn’t leave. I don’t think… I could’ve found it without you.” His words came slower, but clearer, each one laced with genuine emotion. “You make me feel… real. Like I’m more than… what I was before.”

A pang of tenderness shot through you, and without thinking, you reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “You are, Kyle. You’re so much more than that. And I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to memorize every feature, every tiny expression. His hand tightened around yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin. It was such a small, innocent gesture, but you felt his gratitude, his trust, and something deeper in that simple touch.

He took a shaky breath, his smile widening. “I… don’t think I need… anything more than… this. Just… you.” His voice was quiet, like he was sharing asecret, his eyes soft and full of the warmth you’d come to recognize as love.

A gentle, happy laugh bubbled out of you, and in one swift, bold movement, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him. For a second, Kyle tensed, his breath catching in surprise, but then he melted into your embrace, wrapping his arms around you in return. His head rested on your shoulder, and you could feel him relax, his entire being just sinking into the hug as if it was a safe haven he’d been searching for his whole life.

“You’re home, Kyle,” you whispered softly, running a hand through his hair. “You’re home, and you’re safe.”

He nodded against your shoulder, his voice muffled but full of warmth. “Yeah… I think I.. am.”

You held each other in the golden glow of the setting sun, surrounded by the blooming flowers and the gentle rustling of leaves, the world felt perfect. It was quiet and peaceful, with nothing but the steady rhythm of Kyle’s breathing against you. In that moment, you both knew that this was exactly where you belonged.

Kyle pulled back, meeting your gaze with a look that was so full of gratitude and tenderness that it made your heart ache. His smile was real, wide, and hopeful, and he reached for your hand again, his fingers intertwining with yours as if he never wanted to let go.

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