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ahundredtimesover · 8 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (10) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 20.6k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

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

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

The weekend after your site visits passes by excruciatingly slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Were you there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s always wrong.”

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

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

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

“You do,” he insists. “Maybe you’re just scared of what chasing it would mean. But if you allow yourself to truly feel what you feel, then it would be clear what you’d need to do. Just remember that whatever decision you make, you’re gonna have to stand by it, okay? You can’t regret any of it.”

You let his words settle, knowing that they come from a place of pain. But still, you ask a question you’ve been meaning to for a while now.

“Do you regret the decision you made back then?”

Mr. Ri prolongs the silence. He doesn’t meet your eyes when he answers.

“Everyday.”

Your heart breaks for him. You know what he did all those years ago, and knowing that it continues to haunt him pains you. You don’t want that burden. You don’t want one decision to determine how the rest of your life is gonna go with no way to make up for it. You suppose that’s what will happen to you, but you’ve got time to change all that. Maybe you just need the courage to do it.

“The debt I owed kept me from chasing my happiness,” he continues. “You’ve paid yours so don’t let it stop you. You just have to be brave enough for it.”

You nod, meeting his eyes through the mirror this time in understanding and gratitude, letting his words comfort you as you exit the car.

You walk towards Jungkook’s penthouse in anticipation, as the worry of how he’s been creeps in again. The moment you enter, you get your answer, as you hear the sound of leather hitting leather, the loudest it’s ever been. You could hear him heaving, almost breathless with every movement, but he grunts in between, and you hear the frustration in his every breath.

From your position in the kitchen, you can see him in the far right corner of his gym, throwing one punch after another, his face wincing in pain, his body gradually giving in as he slows down. He hugs the punching bag with one arm while his free hand continues to jab at it until eventually, that stops, too. He releases it then spreads his body out on the floor as he tries to catch his breath now. You can feel his exhaustion; there’s desperation, too.

He stays there for a while, and you wonder if he’s releasing whatever negative emotions he’s had these past days just now, or if this is what he’s been doing everyday since he got back.

He sits up, and you look away the moment he glances at your direction. He heads your way, nods at you in acknowledgment, then gulps down the energy drink that he takes from the fridge. His drenched white shirt sticks to his body, but it’s his bruised knuckles that catch your attention. You don’t know if these wounds are from this morning or from the days before but regardless, he acts as if they’re not there. You doubt if he even feels them sting.

Perhaps this is how he copes with anything - tiring himself out, expending all his energy until he’s numb, releasing his emotions in a way that doesn’t require him to be honest or to even say anything. Maybe this is how he accepts; maybe it’s how he moves on and forgets.

He drags himself towards his bedroom then you make your way to his closet to prepare his clothes. You return to the kitchen soon after and decide to make some fried rice. It’s the one dish you make that might make a difference to his mood this morning, so you get to work and cook with what you can, deciding that it’s definitely one of the most delicious ones you’ve ever made.

He finishes his morning routine later than usual. When you walk towards him to fix his tie, you try to hold his gaze, wanting to tell him in your own way that you’re there if he ever wants to talk, but he only glances at you before looking away. You’re unsure of the cause of his somber disposition but the sadness in his eyes causes a crack in your heart. It’s different, you think, and you don’t know how else you can comfort him.

“I made some fried rice,” you tell him as you walk to the dining table.

He follows, taking his seat then quietly eating his meal as you go through his schedule. He merely hums and doesn’t ask questions, only speaking up when you bring up last week’s site visits, with him saying that there’s no rush for that, and that you’ll talk about it some other time. It’s what tells you that what happened last Friday isn’t something he’s really gotten over. Maybe there are still remnants from that night - of fear, of discomfort; perhaps a bit of shame. And you don’t blame him. They’re what you felt after the incident at the restaurant and after your injury. Being helpless in front of someone is confronting; there’s so much of yourself that gets exposed, and you suppose it’s not something that Jungkook is used to.

You share in the silence, glancing at him to see if what you’ve prepared is affecting him in any way, and you don’t miss the subtle satisfied look he makes once he finishes his meal. It’s what prompts you to push it a little. You stand up, take an ice pack from the fridge, then retrieve the first-aid kit from the drawer. Taking a seat next to him, you lay your palm out on the table, gesturing for him to give you his hands to treat.

“There’s no need,” he says, turning away again.

“I let you push my wheelchair,” you remind him. “And I let you dress my foot.”

“You were injured.”

“And you have gashes on your hands,” you point out. “Which means you’re wounded and you can’t leave those exposed. So please, would you let me do this for you?”

There’s a hint of desperation in your voice, as if all you want is for him to give in and let you help him. You’ve been trying to meet his eyes since you arrived and he’s been the coward who avoids it every time. But the last thing he wants is for you to think that he wants to push you away because he doesn’t; he just doesn’t know how to act around you after what happened last Friday. It may have ended with your unspoken forgiveness and your smile telling him that he’ll be alright, that you’ll be alright, but the past days haven’t been good to him.

In an effort to show you that he’s not angry, he moves his hand towards yours ever so slightly. He doesn’t look at you when you take his left hand and put it over your palm, but he does feel his heart skip a beat at your touch. You place the ice pack over his knuckles, then you move it over to his other hand so you can put antiseptic cream on the one that’s free.

You’re so gentle with him even when tending to his wounds. But that shouldn’t come as a surprise, especially now, as he sees you make an effort in letting him know that everything’s okay and that you’re around in case he needs anything.

The thing is, he doesn’t know what he needs right now. After last week’s incident when he blamed you for not checking the weather, he felt ashamed. He’d apologized for how he used to treat you right before that, and then he went ahead and did all that again over a fear of his that he couldn’t get over, one that came to light that night.

You saw it all - that part of him that he despises, that he keeps hidden, that he’s burdened by.

That was another thing - you were the one who woke him up and kept him steady. Perhaps it was a nightmare he was having, but it’s also always been the way his body reacted to the rain and the thunder because of what happened when he was a child. But you saw him bare and terrified, a side of him he wasn’t sure you’d want to see or be around for. You saw him weak and helpless, things he never wants to be in front of other people. You experienced him being honest and not in control, and that made him feel unguarded.

You held him steady though, grounding him when he was slowly losing himself to the fear. Your hands on his head kept him in the present, pulling him back when his mind would travel to that fateful rainy evening in the woods. Your calm and soft voice sounded like a lullaby to him, fighting away the loud sounds that have haunted him for years. It soothed parts of him that were hurting, and you’d done it so naturally, so easily.

It’s what prompted him to share with you the memory he just can’t erase. And you told him that he could call you when it happened again so you can both replace the bad memories with good ones. Maybe you want him to be brave; he thinks that’s not something that he is.

Maybe that’s why he’s been this way since he got home that day. There’s a lot of emotion he doesn’t know how to express nor even properly name. He’s sure they’re negative though, and somehow that makes him even more ashamed. He doesn’t like not being in control. He doesn’t like being that bare and uninhibited, especially in front of you, the only person he doesn’t want to scare away.

He spent the entire weekend boxing and running around the Han River parks in hopes that all the tiredness would help keep his mind off things. But somehow, it always ended up thinking of you. It wanted to hear your voice once more; it wanted your touch.

He has them again today and he feels undeserving. Yet you’re here, healing his physical wounds and everything else that’s hurting within in the ways only you know how to. And he just wants to pull you close. He realizes now that even on days when he hates himself, you’re the one he wants to be around. Somehow you make that hate a little less than before.

“All done,” you say after placing the fabric bandage on his knuckles. “Minimal movements, okay? And ice them when you can in case something’s swollen.”

“I will,” he says softly, retrieving his hand and feeling your touch still linger, knowing he wants more of it.

You proceed to discuss some events he needs to attend all the way to the office with no mentions of how either of your weekends went. He wonders how you spent yours, hoping it was better than his. He wonders, too, if you thought about him the way he thought about you. But you seem focused on work matters for today, perhaps thinking he doesn’t want to talk about anything else. And you wouldn’t be wrong.

He gets to his room where he sighs in relief once he sits on his desk chair. It’s now that he feels the soreness and fatigue, as all he wants is to go home and lay in bed for the rest of the day. But he can’t afford that, so he pushes on, surviving a morning meeting and slowly going through each of his emails. He’s surprised when you serve him his favorite beef brisket for lunch, and your soft smile as he thanks you is his bright spot for the rest of the afternoon.

He powers through reviewing documents right after but his eyes start falling, prompting him to just lean back on his chair for a good few seconds before getting back to work. You knock on the door not long after, and then you place a cup of chamomile tea on his desk.

“I need about five espresso shots, Ms. Cho, not this,” he sighs, the tiredness in his voice evident. But you don’t seem taken aback by his words.

“I disagree, sir,” you reply. “This is to help you calm down. There’s also a couch right there. There’s a reason why it’s big and comfortable.”

He picks up on what you’re suggesting, and he shakes his head in response.

“I’m not gonna sleep here.”

“No one will know,” you shrug. “But you know it’s okay, right? I can’t imagine how tired you must be. You’re not Superman, Mr. Jeon. Plus, Mr. Jung would take naps here after long nights or during hectic days. It’s normal. And it might just be what you need.”

“I’ll decide what I need, Ms. Cho,” he says defensively. “I wouldn’t want my staff sleeping on the job so why should I?”

Jungkook regrets the words right as he says them, especially when he sees your face fall the tiniest bit. But you recover, saying that you understand then turning to head out. But you fix the pillow on the couch and place the blanket on the armrest before leaving, and he knows that your stubbornness is often a reflection of how you care.

So he takes a sip of the tea and eventually finishes it, indulging you in this way, but given the morning he’s had, his body gives in. He decides, like you said, that he needs a nap, and he doesn’t miss the victorious smile on your face that he sees from inside when he calls to instruct you not to disturb him for the next half hour.

With the dim lights and air purifier, he falls asleep right as his body hits the couch. When he wakes up 30 minutes later, he feels infinitely better; now he can focus and be productive.

You see the lights turn back on from outside and it’s your signal that he’s woken up from his nap. You wait a while before asking to enter his room to say that his father requested a meeting due to start in an hour. Jungkook’s putting his coat back on and you walk towards him to help.

“Was it good?” You ask, fixing the creases and aligning his necktie.

“Yeah,” he hums, not meeting your eyes again. “You were right, I needed that. And the couch really is comfortable.”

“That’s good. You should listen to your assistant more often,” you tease.

“I really should,” he smiles now, soft and reserved. “But I do feel better. Thank you.”

You exit his room and feel accomplished. You believe, like what others have told you, that showing him a bit of gentleness will prompt him to be a little gentler to himself, too. He works too hard sometimes, and taking a break when he needs it is one thing, but of course, it’s not everything.

The rest of the week goes by fairly similarly. Jungkook always looks tired, and it makes you wonder if he’s able to sleep properly at night or if he just overexerts himself during his morning workouts. He’s quiet when you’re not discussing work matters, making you miss your casual conversations. And though he acknowledges your occasional teasing remark, he doesn’t tease back like he’s been doing recently.

He has his moments of frustration but he’s mostly serious when you glance at him. He’s less engaging, too, and you suppose that’s what bothers you the most, as you realize that you enjoy talking with him, you enjoy getting to know him through your exchanges, allowing you a peek into his world that you know is reserved for very, very few people.

You suppose that whatever he’s dealing with is something he wants to go through on his own. Accepting your fears is one thing; accepting that you exposed all those to someone else is another. It’s why you try, in your own ways, to lift his spirits, wanting to let him know that he has nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to you.

You get him lunch from his favorite restaurants everyday, you add sweets to his servings of coffee or chocolate milk, you smile at him more, encourage him frequently, and during the times when he seems distant, you don’t completely move away. You reach out just a little bit, hoping that he’ll know that you’re around even when he doesn’t feel much like himself. You don’t want to match his detachment with your own.

It seems that you got your point across. On Friday, he dismisses you after he insists that he wants to stay back to work on a few things.

“___,” he calls out as you’re about to exit his room. “Thank you for being patient with me this week. I… I needed that.”

You turn around and Jungkook doesn’t shy away from meeting your eyes this time. He’s noticed you try to hold his gaze all week; you always lingered, too. Maybe it’s your way of comforting him or saying that you understand him. He felt both of those but he couldn’t find it in him to acknowledge them. There was a lot on his mind as he dealt with the frustration and shame of what happened, of how exposed and unguarded he was in front of you.

But you didn’t complain; you didn’t push him to engage or share anything. Even his moments of frustration were met with kindness and his silence was received with assurance. You tried to cheer him up in whatever way you could, and he could feel you just giving him time to be on his own.

He hopes he didn’t push you away. There were so many times when he just wanted you around so he could see more of your smile and hear the calmness of your voice; those always made him feel better. Whatever fears he had about how you would think of him after the incident have dissipated, as you look softly at him in understanding. He doesn’t need to say anything more, as you seem to know exactly what he means because this whole time, you seemed to also know exactly what he needed.

“I hope you’re feeling better, Jungkook,” you smile. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Jungkook returns to his usual self the week after. He says he went to one of their properties in Gwangju over the weekend where the weather was good and the long drive helped him stay focused and rejuvenated. He doesn’t say much of what he’s feeling and you expect that, but you’re glad his little trip gave him some peace somehow.

You, on the other hand, were left to deal with your growing feelings for him while downplaying them to your best friends. They came over for their regular visit on Saturday and while they were sympathetic with Jungkook over what happened, they still reminded you to be cautious. Once you cross a line, there’s no going back, and once you fully admit to what you feel, you can’t unfeel it; not acting on it becomes too hard and in your case, complicated.

The week is like any other but with much anticipation, given the upcoming annual team building that everyone’s excited about. This is one of the things that the support team was worried wouldn’t happen under Jungkook’s leadership, but you assured them early on that it was mandatory. And with him having loosened up and feeling more comfortable around them, you have high hopes that he’ll enjoy it as much as everyone will.

It’s why on that Saturday, you find yourself in the mall to buy the things that you’ll be needing for those three days that you’ll be spending in one of the Jeon properties in Gangwon. The venue changes every year and the villas by the lake are perfect for spring this time. Your shopping list includes all the materials for the activities and some other things Jungkook requested, like a certain book that he doesn’t have time to buy.

You enter a bookstore and as you try to find what you’re looking for, something else catches your eye. You may love the library for the space more than the books, but there will always be those that pull you in and make you curious. Even if you only read picture books when you were younger, there were a few short stories and poems that piqued your interest. You never finished them but you did manage to get through several pages.

The one right in front of you - with its pastel colored cover and simple yet intriguing design - feels like one of those. To your delight, it’s a short story collection, and your smile is immediate as you go through the pages, with each story being accompanied by illustrations that feel so personal. This would be a nice read while you’re lounging at the villa’s deck or even on your balcony, you think.

Another book catches your attention. The title is familiar, and you realize it’s one of the classics that you were required to read in high school. It has a new cover, and you see that it’s a new edition to celebrate its 30th year. You go through the pages as well, thinking back to when you had to force yourself to finish this some 15 years ago. It looks more fresh now, and definitely more enticing.

“Did you find what you’re looking for?”

You look up to find a tall man with deep-set eyes as the owner of the voice who’d interrupted your moment of book appreciation.

“I’m okay,” you dismiss him. “I don’t need assistance.”

You politely smile then return the books in their respective spots, ready to head out and search for what you came here to buy.

“Are you not going to get those?” The man presses. “You seemed to be interested in them and—”

“Were you watching me?” You ask, taken aback.

“Uh, no. I mean, not in the way you think,” he answers in panic, seemingly nervous at how it looks. “I wasn’t being creepy or anything I just… I…”

“Do you even work here?” You interrogate him, your alarm bells ringing at this man’s odd behavior and the absence of a nameplate that the other staff have on.

“I actually work for the company that published those books,” he says, his head down as if in embarrassment. “And we just put those out this week and I’m checking around to see people’s reaction and I realize now that it’s incredibly foolish of me to stand around and observe customers because it’s not only creepy, it’s also terribly disrespectful. I’m so sorry.”

There’s guilt in his eyes and it’s something you can recognize. You decide he’s being sincere and engage him a little.

“So… you work at Rkive Publishing?” You ask as you glance at the books. “As what?”

“I’m an editor, actually,” he answers, revealing his shy smile and dimples. “I’ve spent months on these books and thought, what better way to know people’s impression than to see them for myself? It seemed better in my head. I guess I wasn’t being subtle.”

“No, not really. I was kinda having a moment but then you popped out of nowhere,” you say, laughing to ease the tension. “But uh, the covers are stunning. I liked the personal touch of the short story collection and this classic looks a lot more interesting than I remember.”

“That’s uh, that’s good,” he grins, mostly to himself. “Our production team did really well in putting them together and to see the final products is incredibly satisfying, even more so when customers feel the same.”

“I don’t really read books but these just caught my eye. It’s a good way to pull people in,” you admit.

“That’s nice to know,” he smiles again. “I feel pretty fulfilled just knowing they got your attention. Even if you won’t buy them.”

He doesn’t seem like he’s guilt-tripping you but he still apologizes for how it sounds.

“I just… feel really strongly about how these pieces connect with people, even if it’s fleeting,” the man continues. “I just got over excited but thank you for not shunning me away.”

“I don’t think connections are fleeting, though,” you remark, surprising him and even yourself. “Even if it’s a thought or a memory or an impression… they stay with you in one way or another. I mean, every time I enter a bookstore, I’ll probably think about those covers and remember these books and maybe the excitement I felt. That’s still something, isn’t it?”

There’s appreciation in the man’s eyes as he takes in your words.

You may not be a book nerd nor an artsy person but you’ve been more introspective lately about the things around you. You don’t know if it’s the desperation to relate with anything and everything but if there’s one thing that working on the Arts Center has pushed you to do, it’s that pursuit of connection - with your surroundings, with people, and with yourself. You suppose that’s where all this is coming from, and the stranger in front of you whom you’re somehow connecting with right now understands that.

“It is something,” he flashes a smile again, the joy in it radiating and softening his very manly features. “That’s very reassuring, thank you.”

He steps aside and nods, perhaps giving you the space that he thinks he invaded, which in hindsight, you’re glad he did.

You bow in acknowledgment and head towards another aisle to look for that leadership book that Jungkook asked you to get. You immediately find it then make your way home, all the while thinking about your earlier encounter and how the briefest conversations can make you reflect about things and as you learn, lead you down a path you didn’t expect.

To appease your curiosity, you research about Rkive Publishing and learn that it’s a ten-year old company that works with up-and-coming local authors. It has also taken on special projects such as publishing classics for their milestone releases and some translated works. The man you met, who happens to be the editorial director, is a poet as well but apparently finds as much happiness in putting pieces out for people to enjoy as he does in writing them himself. He doesn’t seem that much older than you but he’s seen the world and in the eyes of an artist, you can’t imagine how beautiful and heartbreaking that must be.

You go down a rabbit hole of reading some of his poems and even some interviews he’d done when he set up the company years ago. You learn that he loves to write about the complexity of relationships, the fragility of human emotions, and the search for permanence in an impermanent world.

His words are captivating. You want to pick apart his brain to know more about what he thinks about humans’ need for connection despite our fear of them. You want to know what makes love the way it is, why it creates and sustains and ruins those who feel and have them. You want to know if he thinks that each person is capable of love, if that’s what makes us human, or if our humanness derives from the inadequacy of love - of what we give and what we receive.

You read a bit more about the books they’ve published and the authors they’ve worked with over the years. It’s midnight by the time you finish, and other than deciding that you’ll go back tomorrow to buy that short story book collection, one other thing fills your mind - the thought that there’s a reason for that encounter earlier, and it’s probably to lead you to finding this company and the production officer position that happens to be currently vacant.

The soft eyes that greet you from across the table where the books are placed is a welcome sight this time. The man from yesterday flashes you a shy smile and you greet him with your own.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon but I’m glad that you’re here,” he says as he approaches you.

You raise the book you intend to buy. “Connections aren’t fleeting,” you remind him. “I couldn’t really stop thinking about this since yesterday. And uh, curiosity got to me and I looked up Rkive Publishing. You’re doing great work. I read that you’re working on translations of several books, too.”

His eyes light up as he talks about wanting to attract a wider audience, given the increasing interest in Korean culture. The story of your people appeals to many because it’s shared, and he says that’s one beauty of art in whatever form - the meanings are endless, and they weave together to form something enduring and constant. That’s what he and his mother hoped for the company when they founded it a decade ago, he narrates, and he has the tough task of creating that avenue for such art to affect more people without diluting its meaning.

“I’m sorry, I’m rambling again,” he shakes his head. “I just get so… yeah. I’ve just never met a buyer who actually searched us up after seeing our books on the shelf. I’m trying to engage more people. Our sales team said that’s one way to establish our presence.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you assure him. “I may not be as passionate about anything as you but I understand feeling strongly about something. And if I’m being honest… there’s another thing that caught my eye about your company.”

“What is it?”

“You have an opening for the production officer position. I… I was impressed and looked up career options.”

“Ah, so you’re interested then?” He asks excitedly.

“I am. Although I don’t have any experience in publishing or anything related to books or literature for that matter.”

“Relevant experience is the qualification,” he hums. “I’d ask more but I can do so during the interview. What do you say?”

“That’s if I’ll make the shortlist,” you laugh. “Although I suppose my executive assistant experience is relevant enough.”

“Oh, it definitely is. That is no easy task.”

“Well, I hope meeting you like this won’t make any future application inappropriate,” you say.

“Not at all. That position has been vacant for a while. And we’re looking for two. It’s not always the role that those in the industry go for. I suppose it’s made for those looking for a career change,” he playfully winks. “But seriously though, think of this encounter as part of the process. You’ve done your research about us anyway, which kind of means you’re already a step ahead. It’s only a matter of actually applying, which I hope you do.”

“It’s an option,” you hum. “This wasn’t something I initially considered but it’s amazing how certain moments shape our decisions, isn’t it? I mean, they’re not really fleeting.”

“Of course,” he nods, thinking back to your comment from yesterday. “It’s all about being open, so please think about it. I may not know anything about your credentials but talking with you has already given me insight into what you think about our work and the power of stories. And that’s very important to me.”

“I still have a lot going on but I’ll definitely keep you in mind. I hope the position is still open when the time comes.”

“If it’s meant to be then it will be,” he assures you. “I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“I know,” you giggle, taking the business card that he hands out. “And I’m ___. I’ll see you around.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you head out the store with your purchased book in hand. And as you lay in bed that night, the possibilities of taking on a new journey play in your mind.

There’s the connection to the good memories of your childhood and the unloading of the burdens you carry. There’s being around people you’re not tied or indebted to and there’s forging your own way towards a path that you deliberately chose.

But there’s also Jungkook, whom you can’t stop thinking about and who happens to be a hindrance when it comes to pursuing your own goals in life. Those goals include happiness and freedom even if ironically, those are the things he also gives you. There’s the new emotions he makes you feel, the connection you can’t deny you have with him, and the desire that constantly eats you up inside.

You’ve always had your feet inside your walls with your hand on the door, just waiting for the courage to finally step out. The only thing stopping you is Jungkook and all the other possibilities with him. They may remain unrealized but they’re there. You just hope that one day you’ll convince yourself that walking away from him was exactly the thing you had to do.

You watch in awe as Yohan loads the last crate of food in the rented van you’ll be using for this weekend’s team building in some lakeside property in Gangwon. The trunk is filled with all sorts of meat and vegetables, chips, and alcohol that seem to be good for a tribe of more than 10, way more than your team of seven.

“You do know we’re only there for three days, right?” You remind the younger man. “I don’t think we eat this much.”

“Don’t you know Do-hyun?” Yohan says. “She’s half my size but she eats twice as much as I do. And I eat a lot. Plus, the guy she was seeing ghosted her so she’s probably gonna eat even more. Heartbreak shit, you know?”

“I don’t,” you chuckle, although you can’t help but feel bad again for Do-hyun whom you had to comfort not long ago because of her boy problems. “But are you sure these are all within budget?”

“Yes. Chin-sun is a master at bargaining. And, because we’re such a good team, Mr. Min and Mr. Jung gave us some of their favorite liquor,” Yohan hums satisfyingly. “Those smell expensive. So yeah, we didn’t have to spend much on alcohol since Mr. Jeon brought some, too, which is why we got to buy all this food.”

“Fine, but we can’t have drunken shenanigans, okay? I don’t have the energy to babysit you guys. And Mr. Jeon is no weakling; he’ll be awake to see you misbehave if you do.”

“We’ll go as far as incredibly out-of-tune karaoke singing, we promise,” Yohan laughs, learning his lesson after last year’s midnight swim in the freezing cold river where he almost got swept away.

Hoseok was thankfully passed out and did not witness the almost-emergency. You had to remind your team that though you’ll be going on a team-building - which is really just an excuse for the staff to eat and drink in some scenic venue - there are still rules in place, and it would be best not to give Jungkook any problem, given the progress that you’ve all made.

You enter the car then leave the office - your meet up place - to take the long drive to your destination. You just got the message from Mr. Ri that they’re almost there; they left much earlier so that Jungkook could make it to a virtual meeting with Hoseok and his father.

The ride starts off peaceful, as everyone is still slowly waking up. Halfway through, it becomes chaotic, with Do-hyun and Yohan arguing about who’ll be on cleaning duties on which days as the youngest ones on the team. You laugh along, knowing you’ll end up helping them anyway, but you look out the window and wonder how Jungkook is doing.

He’s been incredibly busy leading to today, with several site visits to the Arts Center and meetings with the project teams multiple times the past two weeks. He’s been staying late in the office, too, and working on the weekends. You know, because you get the odd-hour emails and find portfolios on your desk in the morning. Despite the work that he still has to squeeze in during this weekend, you hope he gets a bit of rest. More than that, you hope he finds time to be with the team and bond with them. Only you know this may be your last, and you want to keep the memories of these three days and make sure they’re good ones.

You arrive at the place and look around, amazed at every corner and every space you set your eyes on. You know that the Jeon family has dozens of properties in scenic locations that they escape to or put out for rent. This lakeside estate is one of a few you haven’t been to yet, and there’s a reason why Jungkook wanted this to be your venue this year. It’s spacious with lots of things to do and the view is absolutely stunning. Lush mountains frame the sparkling body of water, and with the breeze of spring, it’s every bit relaxing as you hoped.

It’s quiet as the rest of the team walks around in awe. The main house boasts of a large kitchen and living space and it’s surrounded by four two-bedroom villas with their own decks. You, Chin-sun, and Do-hyun head to one while Yohan and Manager Lee head to another. You give yourselves half an hour to fix up before reconvening and when you do, you immediately smile upon seeing Jungkook already waiting.

He greets the team, formally welcomes you all, then talks about the property and all its amenities. He discusses what’s in store for these next three days, then he proceeds with the first activity, which is really the only work-related thing you’re all required to do.

Jungkook facilitates the session, and he starts by asking everyone to reflect on all the gains and challenges this past year. He instructs each of you to share your team highs and lows, what enabled you to achieve the successes and overcome the difficulties, what caused you the most stress, and what you’re most thankful for. Every answer is met with confirming nods and statements, and it seems that everyone is on the same page about how the year went.

The session highlights your team dynamics - you’re all very encouraging of each other, but it doesn’t stop the young ones from bickering and teasing the rest of you. It’s fun though, as you end the hour with laughter and more memories to take with you. You glance at Jungkook who seems satisfied with every response; you hope he’s proud of how he managed everything, too, and you make sure you mention it during your turn. The smile he makes when everyone agrees warms your heart in a way you don’t expect, even more so when he holds your gaze when he thanks the team in return.

You’re rewarded with a hearty lunch an hour later, and not long after, you find yourselves near the deck of the lake, discussing how to spend your two hours of free time before the next activity.

Chin-sun and Manager Lee decide on just laying on the lounge chairs to soak up the sun. Yohan gets on a jet-ski while Do-hyun flounders about in the lake. Sipping your beer, you lean on one of the tables and savor the fresh air.

There’s not much of this in the city, and the silence - save for the young ones’ laughter in the background - is definitely worth the long ride and the backlog you’ll be having once the weekend is over. You’re not really one to stay outdoors. You’d much rather stay inside, under the covers where you could watch movies or variety shows. That was always how you preserved your peace. Being outside always intimidated you, and you think now it’s probably because you just haven’t seen that many beautiful views like this in your life. If this is what’s outside your window everyday, you’d probably be out all the time.

“___, are you just gonna stay there? The water’s amazing,” Do-hyun whines as she approaches you. “Or sunbathe if you don’t want to get wet. Just get out there.”

“I’m content just watching you enjoy yourselves,” you say. “I can see the view just fine from here.”

“It’s much better up close,” she counters, standing next to you now. “Come on, this is your time to let loose since you have the permission to do so. Mr. Jeon isn’t gonna be a killjoy and watch your every move, you know? If he will, then I will…”

“You will what?” You laugh.

“I will tell him he’s being a killjoy. How often can we be in a place as beautiful as this?”

“Do-hyun’s right,” Jungkook says as he appears to your left, catching both of you off guard and prompting Do-hyun to sweetly smile at him. He’s in shorts and a loose long-sleeve shirt, perhaps ready to enjoy the outdoors as well. “The place is too beautiful for you to just sit back and watch.”

“And what will you do?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Sit back and watch,” he shrugs, earning him a laugh from you and Do-hyun. “And enjoy my beer. That’s how I relax.”

“Please don’t be boring,” Do-hyun pouts at him, embracing that little sister energy that you’ve all come to love. “You should know, Mr. Jeon, Yohan is being all cocky, saying that he’s the best jet ski rider among all of us here. I have a feeling that he’s wrong, so please show him who’s boss. I mean, you are, obviously. But, you know what I mean.”

“I think I do,” Jungkook chuckles, putting down his drink and looking out into the lake. “But sure. I haven’t ridden one in a while but let’s see how I go.”

Jungkook walks towards the water then unknots the other jet ski. He removes his shirt and wears the life vest before riding towards where Yohan is. The view of him half-naked triggers memories of all the times you’ve seen him like that, times when you’d look away and keep yourself from thinking inappropriate thoughts. It’s no different this time, but somehow, it’s much harder to keep your heart from racing this fast.

“Holy fuck,” Do-hyun gasps next to you. “Please don’t report me but shit, ___. Whoever’s doing Mr. Jeon is one lucky woman. I mean, look at that. And who knew he had a full sleeve of tattoo? That is so freaking hot.”

From your periphery, you could see her shocked face but you merely hum in response. You don’t want to get carried away by your own expletives because there really aren’t enough curses in the dictionary when it comes to describing Jungkook’s body.

“You don’t seem surprised,” she looks at you curiously. “And you’re not affected. You’ve seen it before, haven’t you?”

“Of course I have. I’m with him everyday,” you say nonchalantly.

“In clothes, I would assume.”

“He works out every morning and he’s in sleeveless tops sometimes,” you clarify. “Obviously I’ve seen his arm.”

She furrows her brows as if she doesn’t believe you, even if you’re telling the truth. There are just other parts of that story that you don’t want to share.

“Hmm, fair enough,” she gives in. “But I’d probably be constantly flustered or even crushing on him if I were you. So how have you managed being around him and not being attracted all this time knowing he looks like that?”

You’re forced to look at Do-hyun, as you try to find the words to say, when she answers her own question.

“Right, he can be quite detached and too serious and he’s a playboy and—”

“You also forget that I am his assistant and he is my boss,” you remind her. “Thoughts like that—”

“Are perfectly normal,” she interjects. “And totally understandable. He’s a hot bachelor, ____. I wouldn’t be able to function professionally if I were in your shoes. Which is why it’s great that I’m here and you’re the one in that position.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I might lose this job if I lose my shit every time because my boss is so hot,” she reasons. “And it’s not just me. I’ve seen the female staff lose their cool around him just because he spoke to them or looked their way. It’s kind of embarrassing. But I guess the broody, asshole-y vibes add to that. And then there’s you who’s in his apartment every morning and heavens know what you’ve seen or heard since we all know that the rumors about his dating life are true and you seem fine and totally unbothered.”

You want to laugh at how completely off Do-hyun is with her observations. Sure, you tried to be cool about it at the beginning and you mostly succeeded in being calm whenever you came close or saw any part of his body exposed.

But somewhere along the way, things changed. When you saw the layers underneath, he wasn’t just attractive physically; he was suddenly so much more. That somehow made it harder but it also made all the restraint worth it. But that’s not something you want to divulge to Do-hyun. No matter how difficult, you know you need to keep yourself together and stop the feelings from going any deeper.

“Well, just like you, I can’t lose my job and I will if I let it affect me,” you say. “But if I may say so… there’s definitely more to the broody, serious man we met almost a year ago.”

“Hmm, I guess that’s true. He’s definitely more thoughtful than I expected. Maybe a little funny, too. But that’s really all I know. He just seems too reserved, you know? Seeing him do something like ride a jet ski or laugh with us feels like such a luxury for a man like him,” Do-hyun adds. “It must be hard to get to know him beyond all this. I know it sure is hard to love someone like that.”

You know that Do-hyun’s merely projecting. The recent guy she was seeing was a lot more shy and private than the ones she’s dated before. But she got him to open up and she thought that was it, that she’d broken through his walls and they’d be permanently down for her, only to realize it wasn’t the case. He was distant for a few days and she tried to get through again only for him to completely shut her out; she hasn’t heard from him in weeks.

It’s probably why you agree. People who keep their distance and disengage whenever they want are hard to love. You’d know because you’re like that. It hits you hard knowing that Jungkook is probably the same.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you and Do-hyun watch Jungkook and Yohan outride one another, splashing each other with water and screaming in excitement when they speed up. Seeing this other side of Jungkook does something to you again, and the sight of his smile as he dries his hair while teasing Yohan triggers the butterflies in your belly.

He approaches you - thankfully with his shirt on this time - and you suddenly feel too hot. He tells you that the water’s nice and you should get in, but you’re too self-conscious now, so you compromise and say you’ll just dip your feet in the water while you sit on the steps that lead down to the lake.

That’s how you spend the rest of the hour, as Chin-sun, Manager Lee, and Do-hyun join Yohan in swimming while Jungkook stays back, watching you all from afar. You glance at him a few times and he catches your eyes. He lifts his can in cheers and you do the same. He heads to where you are some time after with five cans of beer then walks back to his room, and you suddenly miss his presence. You wish he was next to you, perhaps laughing or talking about something random or just sitting with you in silence. You’ve learned that last bit brings you a lot of comfort and peace; the view somehow isn’t as beautiful when you aren’t sharing it with him.

It’s an hour later, after having dried and fixed up, when you’re all on the basketball court to start the next activity that Mr. Ri prepared. Divided into teams of two, each pair is assigned a path that leads to either the mountain, the woods, or the stream to find bags of coins needed to “purchase” materials to create a science experiment-type water rocket. It’s meant to practice your communication and problem-solving skills with those you work most closely with, which is why Chin-sun and Do-hyun, and Manager Lee and Yohan are paired up respectively while you, of course, end up with Jungkook.

“The caretakers and I spent all morning preparing this game, so please take it seriously,” Mr Ri says. “And bond with each other while you’re at it.”

You see the competitiveness in the young ones’ eyes, especially when it’s announced that there’s a prize for the winners, and you like the energy. Being Jungkook’s partner, you know it’s just about completing the task and somehow, it’s the bonding bit that makes you nervous. You already know you’re going to like it, which is precisely why it terrifies you.

“There are ATVs for each team which you will ride to the start of the path. You’ll have to go by foot when you get there or else you’ll miss the bags of coins,” Mr. Ri instructs. “You have walkie-talkies to reach me in case you get lost but please don’t. And try to be back here in an hour. All clear?”

You all express your acknowledgement and he signals the start. The other teams rush to their rides and quickly drive off while you and Jungkook stroll to yours.

He takes the helmet and puts it on you, and he laughs again like he did at the Arts Center months ago before riding the vehicle.

“I should’ve expected that,” you pout.

“Which?”

“That you’ll laugh at me again.”

“It looks cute on you,” he says casually before riding the vehicle.

Your eyes widen at his words and you’re glad he has his back turned on you. That way he can’t see the way you’re trying to hold your smile and suppress the giddy feeling at his remark. It makes it that much harder for you to climb up behind him though, but you manage, and you ensure there’s some distance between you and him, knowing how you tend to be when you get close.

Jungkook, on the other hand, internally smacks himself after he says the words. He didn’t mean for the thoughts in his head to actually come out. He’s glad he didn’t see your probably awkward expression, and that right now, he needs to focus on the road. That way, he can preoccupy himself with your safety and not his embarrassment.

He means it though. There’s something about you in a helmet that gets him, or even in anything oversized, like his jacket that he made you wear once. There’s also something about you wading in the water and laughing so freely that make his insides melt. Anything you do actually triggers something in him - a protective side, a care-free side; a side that wants to take a pause and bask in the scenery that includes you.

Now he has to act like he’s not affected with you sitting behind him as he drives the ATV down the rugged path. He feels you far from him, sitting close to the edge and holding onto the handles behind you. But as the road gets rockier, he starts to get worried.

“You should hold onto me,” he says, turning his head to the side so you could hear him before slowing down. “It’s safer that way.”

It takes a few seconds but he feels you move closer to him, your arms slowly wrapping around his torso. It’s a bit loose but it’s enough for his breathing to quicken.

“Is… is this okay?” You softly ask.

“Yeah,” he manages to say. “It’s a bit rocky out here so be careful. You can, uh, you can hold on tighter if you feel unstable.”

You hum in response but you maintain your position. He supposes you don’t know how bumpy it could be. It makes him worry and he wishes you’d grab onto him more only because he’s afraid you’d fall, and that’s exactly what happens after the first big bump.

You yelp, tightening your grip around him immediately. He feels his heart stop, unprepared to have your arms around his waist and your chest flushed against his back even if that’s what he’d suggested you do. He’s felt you close in several instances already, but each time feels different. It affects him the same way though - all he wants is to have you even closer.

But that’s not something he can think of right now, especially when you’re both alone, in a place that’s conducive to letting his inhibitions go.

It’s calm and peaceful out here. There’s a lot of open space but he enjoys it more when he’s looking at it from the comforts of the balcony or the deck. He always prefers to stay indoors because the outdoors somehow make him feel more constricted; he supposes that being trapped in the woods as a child would do that to anyone. He’s always just been a spectator, watching everything from behind the safety of his walls, knowing that he could feel a bit unsteady out there.

But ever since you got here and he’d seen you enjoy the surroundings, all he’s felt was the stability of having you near him. That, ironically, scares him, too. The more he’s comfortable with you, the more worried he becomes. So he settles on what he knows how to do - keeping you at a fair distance but creating moments here and there, only so you don’t think he’s pushing you away or detaching himself.

You decide to just hold onto Jungkook for safety purposes. You didn’t realize that the path towards the stream is this rocky, but you suppose it should be since you’re in the undeveloped part of the property. It's probably why he asked you to hold onto him; he’s your safety precaution and you know enough that he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

He’s steady and skilled in navigating the ATV, avoiding the big bumps and alerting you when there’s going to be one. It’s actually quite attractive. He feels so nice like this, with his soft hoodie and natural scent, and you have to pull away every once in a while so as not to get too comfortable. You can’t let yourself imagine this to be a possibility beyond today, you remind yourself. He can’t be someone you constantly seek, that you could fall into, even if that’s pretty much where you’re at at this point.

You reach the end of the road and Jungkook lets you get down first, instructing you to hold his arm for support, before following right after. You walk towards the mark that signifies the start of the path where you’re supposed to find the bags of coins, and you look around to see that there are more shrubs than trees. It feels a little less constricting compared to if you were in the mountains or the woods, which is why you think Mr. Ri assigned this to both of you.

You and Jungkook start searching, and with the topography of the place, it’s easy to spot the bags that are hanging from the tree branches. You point one out and Jungkook steps on the hollowed out trunk to retrieve it. You stand by watching, reminding him to be careful. And though you tell yourself to focus on the bag, you can’t help but glance at the sight of him - in his light gray sweatpants and hooded sweatshirt, looking casual and comfortable and even more attractive.

It doesn’t help when he reaches out towards the branch while you stay on a spot below him, and the view of him from this angle leaves you quite breathless. Not only does his hoodie rise up to reveal his waist and that lower half of his torso that you’d held onto earlier, but you also get a peek of the band of his underwear, too. Your mind short-circuits for the briefest moment, even more when he stretches even more to pull the bag towards him, and you’re able to snap out of it in time, as you watch him slowly make his way down.

“Watch your step, watch your step!” You call out.

He easily descends, and with his smug face, he lifts the bag for you to see.

“Do you not have faith in my tree-climbing capabilities?” he asks you.

“It’s just not something I’ve seen you do before,” you shrug, acting nonchalantly as you return to walking down the path.

“So, were you worried?”

“Uhm, yes? I can’t have an injured Vice President on my watch,” you exclaim, earning you a laugh. “How am I gonna transport you out of this dirt road and back to the house? I can barely keep still as a passenger on the ATV.”

“Well, I could get hurt but I definitely won’t be immobile,” he points out. “I won’t be a hard person to help.”

“Right… I’m the one who gets injured and then can’t walk.”

He frowns at you at the reminder, and you counter that it’s okay for you to make fun of your injury but that he’s right, he probably won’t be as injured as you. You wave him off, hoping that you don’t have to deal with an incapacitated version of him during this game. You also won’t be able to handle worrying about him without giving too much away.

You return your focus on finding the other bags. There are those hidden behind rocks and in shallow holes; you know because of the shovel next to them. There’s another one tied around the trunk of the tree, and you have to hold your breath again when Jungkook climbs up to get it.

As expected, you have good teamwork. You section off areas to search at and quickly find what you’re looking for. You go for the ones you can get and then ask him to reach for the ones you can’t. There’s some bickering in between, with him pretending that he’s stuck or caught on something while you panic and then pout at him for scaring you. But there are some moments of silence, too, where you walk side by side and bask in the scent of your surroundings. Either way, it’s time that you enjoy just being around him, taking in the environment that you often stayed away from. With him, it’s a lot less scary and definitely more freeing.

When you’re down to your last one, you and Jungkook think that Mr. Ri would hide it somewhere near the end of the path, so you both decide to just take in your surroundings as you stroll towards the stream.

“So, nature smells like this, huh?” you hum. “It’s quite comforting.”

“It is,” he says. “I forget sometimes. It’s nice to remember.”

“Don’t you spend a lot of time outdoors?” You wonder. “You’ve mentioned driving out to some of your properties with views like this. I’d assume you stay out and enjoy the scenery.”

“I do enjoy the scenery… just from inside,” he chuckles, knowing the irony of his words. “It’s just more comfortable that way, I guess. So I appreciate being forced to go outside this weekend.”

“At least you’re not alone, right?”

“That’s true.”

“I’m the same,” you say. “I don’t go out much. I mean, I’m often on my own so I just stay indoors but I do enjoy the scenery when I’m with others. It feels too lonely when you’re by yourself. To be something so small in a world so big… It's kind of scary.”

“Well, I’m here with you. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

You don’t think Jungkook will ever know the weight of his words and just how wrong he is. To be in a place so beautiful with him next to you… it’s everything you’re scared of. You’ve come to appreciate a lot of things because of him. You’ve come to want more when you shouldn’t because of him. You always find yourself in a state of push-and-pull with your emotions when it comes to him, knowing that he’s someone you can’t have. He’ll always be out of reach no matter how close he is. He’ll always hinder you from the kind of life you want to have even if that includes him.

The logical part of you wants to keep your distance, to not create any more memories that will haunt you and that you’ll miss. But the stubborn part of you wants you to hold onto this to remind you that beautiful things are tangible and he’s the one thing you can see and hear; maybe he’s something you can touch, too.

The latter one wins, so you slow your pace, take in the sight before you, and decide that this is a memory you’ll want to keep. You take the disposable camera from your pouch, something you bought the other week specifically for this trip, knowing it might be your last. You take a photo of the sky, then of the path ahead of you, then of the stream, making sure there’s a bit of him in there - a mop of hair, a portion of his arm, his shadow.

It’s then that you see the last bright red bag on one of the big rocks near the water’s edge.

“Oh, there it is,” you say, immediately walking towards it.

You look around and strategize how you’ll get to the rock safely but Jungkook insists that he’ll be the one to get it.

“You’ve gotten all the tricky ones,” you argue, given that he’d climbed the tree and crawled under the shrub because your leggings were too thin and wouldn’t be able to protect you from the thorny branches. “I can get this.”

“It might be slippery.”

“I have good balance,” you lie.

“Uh, I clearly remember that you don’t.”

“Hey,” you pout at him, knowing he’s referring to that time you tripped on yourself during one of your Arts Center visits. “It was the heels. That’s clearly not a problem this time.”

You step on the wet stones and balance your way as they lead towards the big rock, with Jungkook repeatedly telling you to be careful. His voice just gets louder and louder, but you turn around and see that he’s actually just following you. It’s your mistake, as your loss of focus causes you to slip on one of the rocks and almost lose your balance. Fortunately, it doesn’t make you fall on your ass. Your foot merely slides to the side, barely missing the water, which is really fine, but Jungkook doesn’t think so.

“Don’t move until you’re stable,” he instructs, holding out his hand for you to take, prompting you to look at him questioningly. “That’s the foot you injured. You can’t risk spraining it again. Just take my hand or hold my wrist so you can safely get the bag.”

You do as he says, grabbing his forearm so you can stabilize yourself. You let him go once you do, then you turn and take a few small steps to get what you need. He stays close to you though, and once you retrieve the bag, you turn towards him with a proud smile and announce that half of your task has been completed.

“You’re incredibly stubborn, you know that?” He says instead, his firm voice a contrast to his playful frown.

“And you are quite the nagger,” you hit back. “I wouldn’t have slipped if I hadn’t turned and I wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t so noisy.”

“Sure, it’s my fault. Sorry for caring about your safety,” he shakes his head.

“Well, you were underestimating me,” you frown now. “I could’ve done all this without your help.”

“Really?” He challenges.

“Yes,” you stand your ground. “Although I would still need your help to get back to land.”

It’s what makes him laugh, and the way his eyes light up and crinkle makes your heart race. He has such a sweet sound, and you wish you could hear more of it.

“I figured. Let’s go, then.”

“Wait,” you stop him and check your watch. “We still have time. Can we stay for a bit? The water’s quite nice and the view of the mountains is prettier from here.”

Jungkook looks around. The mountain range from far away looks majestic from this angle, and with the sun about to set soon, the way the light shines on the water is just as beautiful.

“Okay then,” he says, wanting to savor this as well.

You just said you don’t go out much, and maybe like what he feels, being with him makes you want to take it all in; maybe it makes you feel less scared.

You both find dry rocks to sit at and it’s the perfect spot for you to take more photos, so you take out your camera and see which angles look best.

“Did you buy that for this trip?” he asks.

“Yeah. I knew the sights would be beautiful. I just wanted to keep something from here,” you explain.

“Give it to me then,” he says, reaching out his hand and gesturing towards your camera. “Let me take one of you so you’ll always remember.”

You hand it over to him then suddenly feel awkward at how you’re supposed to pose. You stay seated with your legs just slightly bent but are unsure of where you’re supposed to look. It feels a little too tense if you look at his direction, even if that’s what you should be doing.

“It’s free to smile, you know? That’s what people usually do for photos,” he says, causing you to giggle. He takes the photo right then, and you have an idea he caught your smile at the right time.

“Was that a trick?” You ask.

“Sort of. I knew you were gonna think of how bold it was of me to say that, considering that I barely even smile.”

“Wow, I can’t even tease you anymore because you already know what I’m gonna say.”

“I know sometimes you can’t help but just tease me like that. I know you too well,” he smugly says. “But I think I got a good photo. You’re welcome.”

You laugh at his playfulness, knowing it’s rare for him to show that side of him. So you ask for your camera back and decide you want him to be part of this particular memory. You hold it out and turn towards him.

“May I?” You ask.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” he hums. “I just don’t know how to smile.”

You giggle again and you’re quick enough to catch the brief moment when he lets out a short laugh.

You look at him softly, as if there’s more you want to say - that you’ll keep this close to you so you’ll remember what his smile looks like, that he’s something beautiful you can hear and see, that you feel so safe out here with him, and that you hope he’ll remember this, too.

But you look away before any of the words make it out.

You think to just quietly savor this, as you bask in the sounds of the cicadas and the flow of the water and the rustling of the leaves. You’re so small in this big world, but being with Jungkook makes things a little less scary. With him, you don’t feel so alone.

A bit more time passes before you both decide to head back. He reaches out his hand which you mindlessly take, your fingers instinctively wrapping around his palm. You’re too focused on your steps that you only realize you’re still holding him once you both safely make it to dry land. But it’s also at that moment when he lets go. Though a part of you wishes he’d drag the illusion a bit more, you’re also glad he didn’t; you would’ve probably held on longer if he didn’t pull away.

The silence continues as you both walk back to the start of the path, but he stays near you, occasionally asking if you’re tired or cold. You make it to the ATV and you hold onto his waist again with no instructions needed this time. He drives a bit faster than earlier but you feel safe and steady, and there’s something natural about the way you’re clinging to him for support. Part of the illusion as well, you think, but that ends, too.

You’re the last one back to the villas but you and Jungkook quickly make up some ground in assembling the water rocket. It was mostly him, though, as he says that he tinkers around and easily figures these things out. Do-hyun and Chin-sun feel the pressure as you catch up, and they shriek as they slowly feel the win slipping away from them. But then Jungkook holds onto the last piece and lets them win instead. The way they celebrate after their rocket successfully launches makes it feel worth it; you don’t feel bad about it at all. If anything, you expected he’d let either of the other two teams finish first.

After the winners are handed out hotel accommodation gift cards, Jungkook excuses himself to get a bit of work done while the rest of the team prepares for dinner. The team works on your assigned tasks of preparing the grill and slicing the vegetables, while you cook your famed fried rice after Do-hyun convinced you that it would heal her broken heart. Seated outside with the cool evening air, you all wait for Jungkook before starting.

“Mr. Jeon said he’ll just message me once he’s ready to eat,” Mr. Ri says as he takes his seat. “We can start without him.”

“But it’s not a team dinner without him,” Do-hyun whines. “He should take a break from working and spend time with us.”

“I’m sure he wants that, too,” you say. “Let’s just give him some time, maybe there’s something urgent he needs to do. Let’s just enjoy our meal and leave some food for him.”

Everyone dives in once the meat is cooked, and there’s a consensus that your fried rice is definitely worth all the hype. The laughter and teasing immediately start, and you wish Jungkook was here to enjoy it with you. You constantly glance at his villa, noting the dim lights, and you wonder what has him holed up inside this time, knowing he didn’t plan on working too much while he’s here.

It’s one hour later when you decide that he’s gone too long without having dinner, so you take portions of everything and set them on a tray.

“Wait, let me make him a drink. Hopefully that’ll convince him to come out,” Yohan says.

Managing to carry everything, you head towards Jungkook’s villa, and when he opens the door after your constant bell-ringing, he looks at you in surprise.

“The team’s been wondering when you were coming out,” you say. “You might be in there because of work, but I’m not fully convinced. Whatever it is, the food’s too delicious for you to not have a taste, so I brought you some.”

You raise the tray that you placed on the small table outside and flash him a smile. He nods in acknowledgement and takes it from you but you don’t leave just yet.

“I hope you’re not working anymore,” you say.

“I only did for a while,” he replies. “I… got a bit tired.”

“I’ve seen you workout in the morning and work all day after only having three hours of sleep, Jungkook. You wouldn’t get tired from just a jet ski ride and some scavenger hunt,” you raise an eyebrow.

He lets out a dry laugh before heading to the dining room. He leaves the door open so you follow him inside.

“I mean I’m socially tired. Isn’t that a thing?”

“Gee, I didn’t think that spending time with me outdoors drained your energy so much,” you frown.

Your playful pout tells him you’re teasing. He sure hopes it’s not what you really feel. It’s the opposite, in fact. He felt relieved of a lot of things during that hour that he walked around and breathed in the fresh air with you. And you both had moments - comforting glances, the shared silence… the fleeting touches that made him want more. You’re everything new and familiar and he wants to know how it’s like to have you close to him.

He knows it’s a desire he can’t act on, not just because he’s your superior but also because he can’t imagine you feeling a fraction of what he feels. It’s tempting to mistake your kindness for something more, and he’d fall into it if only hoping didn’t lead to disappointment. But like what Yoongi had said before, it’s how you naturally are, even as someone who prefers to be alone. Whatever type of friendship you offer is all that it is - friendship.

Jungkook clearly doesn’t deserve you. It’s not just because of the way he treated you at the beginning but because even until now, whenever he pulls away, you’re always the first one who reaches out. He’s scared that anything he does might push you away, and that’s the last thing he wants. He’ll keep you at a distance for as much as he can and for as long as you’re around. He can handle that, but losing you in any way has become his biggest fear.

That’s why he needed to be on his own after your time together in such a casual and comfortable environment. It’s easy to want that with you and to think that he can have it. Pulling away has always been his default when dealing with things he can’t control, and earlier, he just couldn’t control his mind and his heart.

But you’re here now, having knocked on his door like you always do, wondering if he’ll come out.

“I brought you dinner but I purposely gave you small servings so you’ll want more and leave your villa,” you explain.

“Half a cup of your fried rice?” He scowls. “That’s a crime.”

“I know. And you’ll run out if you don’t go outside,” you warn. “Are you planning on just staying here? Do-hyun’s right. It’s not a team dinner without you there.”

“I… I was planning to go out a bit later. It’s a different setting and I’m a little anxious,” he admits.

He looks away and you feel for him. You were the same in the beginning, too. It’s one thing to share meals with people in a work environment but it’s another when it’s more casual, where people are less filtered and guarded. But you had to try, and after spending time getting to know your colleagues, things got easier.

The team has adjusted to Jungkook but you suppose Jungkook hasn’t fully adjusted to them. Perhaps he was planning on sneaking in much later in the evening or using work as an excuse. But this is part of his function, and like you promised him early on, you want to help him with this aspect of his role.

“I’ll help you loosen up a bit,” you suggest. “I can have dinner with you here first and then we can go out once you’re ready.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees, even if he’d decided earlier that he’d keep his distance. “You can get your food outside. I’m not sharing mine.”

You laugh at how seriously he says the words.

“I know,” you say. “And by the way, Yohan made you that drink.”

“How’d he know I like highball?”

“A little birdie told him,” you shrug, feigning innocence.

You smile before walking out, with Jungkook reminding you to set aside some fried rice for him.

You take your plate and reason to the team that you and Jungkook will just discuss some work stuff and they buy it, saying they won't get drunk until you’re both back outside.

You return to the villa with your dish and a bottle of beer, immediately realizing that it’s new territory for you and Jungkook, too. Sure, you’ve spent some time together out of work, but not in a place and situation like this.

But you want to be there for him. You like that he looks to you for energy and support. On days when he’s distant, you want moments like right now to remind you of the times he needed you, that he wanted you around, even if it’s for a different reason.

It takes half an hour for Jungkook to ease his nerves. In that time, you talk about random things, like his favorite hawker centers in Singapore and the variety shows you watch on which days. You both tease each other, then compete on who gets less affected. You tell him it’s good preparation for when the team, in their drunken states, does the same. You assure him, though, that they won’t go below the belt but he also assures you that he’s a big boy and can handle it.

When he says he wants more fried rice, it becomes your cue to head outside. You’re thankful that other than Mr. Ri subtly smirking at you, no one else reacts uncomfortably. You and Jungkook just came from his villa alone, after all, but you suppose everyone’s too tired or too careful to say anything.

“I hope no one’s eaten my share of the fried rice,” Jungkook says as he sits across from you. “I was really looking forward to it.”

“Here, all yours, Mr. Jeon,” Yohan says as he hands him a bowl. “If it isn’t enough, just know that Do-hyun took one last scoop before we set this aside.”

“Traitor,” Do-hyun scowls at the younger man. “I couldn’t help it. It’s so good, right?” She turns to Jungkook now. “___ gatekeeps this! She says she’s too busy to make it and I only got her to do it now because I’m heartbroken.”

Jungkook smiles internally. You’ve made this for him a few times and it’s heartwarming to think that you had your reasons for doing so, knowing now that it’s not something you easily share.

“It’s way better than the one I make,” Jungkook says, glancing at you. “I can have this everyday.”

“You cook?!” Do-hyun basically yells.

“Uh, yeah. I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?” Jungkook asks.

“Paying people to do things for you,” Do-hyun shrugs.

It’s a line he’s heard you say before and neither of you are wrong. It’s normal to make that assumption and it’s also true. He had people to do pretty much everything for him when he was in Singapore. He has that option here in Seoul, too, but he’s found himself wanting less people in his space for long periods of time. You’re really the only one he doesn’t mind being around him.

The conversation shifts to what happened in the afternoon, and you all end up talking about each team’s scavenger hunt experience and the anticipation for the next day’s obstacle course and relay games. A few more shots and bottles of beer later, the vibe turns more serious, as Manager Lee’s question to Do-hyun about how she’s feeling turns into an emotional session where she asks what she’s supposed to do about the man she was seeing, wondering if it’s worth reaching out or just moving on from him.

Chin-sun shares a piece of her mind and so does Yohan. Manager Lee says that sometimes, people don’t know what they want and isolate themselves in response. The pieces of advice are a mix of being patient and forgetting about the man, and you choose to observe rather than give an opinion. It’s always easy to say something but things could be totally different once you’re the one experiencing it. You think Jungkook feels the same, as he stays quiet but listens earnestly.

“What do you think, Mr. Ri?” Do-hyun asks. “You’re the oldest one here and would probably have a lot to say.”

“I wish I did but I wouldn’t say I’ve made the best decisions when it comes to my love life,” Mr. Ri laughs. “I mean, I’ve only ever loved one woman but I let her go. And that was over 20 years ago; I haven’t loved anyone that way since. I don’t think I ever really stopped.”

You watch everyone’s faces turn from shocked to somber. Mr. Ri, having been CEO Jeon’s right-hand man for a long time, has a stable and commanding presence. Everyone knows him to be loyal and firm, yet there’s a warmth about him with how protective and dependable he is. They all know about his commitment to his job, but his faithfulness to one person is perhaps surprising; he was never one to show much emotion, after all. But then again, people make sacrifices in the name of love - sometimes they give everything up for it, sometimes it’s what they let go of.

“Twenty years is a long time,” Do-hyun sighs. “And you never stopped. Where does all that love go?”

“I have people I care about,” Mr. Ri answers. “It goes to them. Obviously it’s different but I learned that if I keep all that love to myself, it hurts even more. That’s how I learned to live with the decision I made. It’s how I learned to let her go.”

“That’s so sad,” Do-hyun sniffles. “Here I am, heartbroken about a guy I was dating for only a few months while you’ve been harboring these feelings for decades.”

“It’s not about the length of time you were together or apart,” Mr. Ri shakes his head. “When you give a part of yourself to someone, losing them always hurts. That part of you is gone because they took it with them and you can’t take it back. So your pain is valid. We all love and grieve and move forward differently,” he says. “It’s all terrifying but that’s the irony of life, I’ve learned. The thing we all want and can’t live without is the same thing that hurts us the most, whether we have it or not.”

There’s a beat of silence as everyone takes in the elder man’s words. They cut deep, as you know they come from a place of deep pain. You don’t want to ever go through something that hurts that much.

“I’m too emotional,” Do-hyun sighs, not wanting to spend the rest of the evening crying and having everyone feel bad for her, so she shifts her attention to something else. “I want something juicy.” She briefly looks at Jungkook, who looks blankly at her, so she turns to you instead. “I don’t know much about your love life, ___.”

“Yes, because I don’t have one,” you chuckle, masking the nervousness you feel because talking about its inexistence in front of the man plaguing your mind was not something you planned for this trip.

“But I know you did,” she insists. “I mean, why wouldn’t you?”

“I think what Do-hyun means is that you’re a highly capable, kind, and attractive woman,” Chin-sun chimes in. “Surely there have been prospects for a relationship, yes?”

“Like Mr. Min!” Yohan says now. “I always thought you two were cute together. Do-hyun and I would bet on it since she says you’re not the type to date co-workers.”

“And she’s right,” you say, glancing at Jungkook whose face you can’t read. “Yoongi and I are good friends. That’s all we ever were.”

“Well, I think he’s very nice and he’d treat you well,” Yohan sighs. “But I guess it might be weird to date someone you work with. I have friends I can match you with!”

“That’s not necessary,” you laugh. “I don’t think relationships are for everyone.”

“Why not?” Do-hyun asks.

You contemplate on whether or not you’re ready for this conversation, especially since it’s the type you usually just have with your best friends. You suppose it’s why your colleagues claim they don’t know much about you other than the way you work because you don’t really share much about your life, your dreams, or the things you wonder about. You’ve always preferred to keep things to yourself, always worried about how they will be received.

But everyone’s allowed themselves to be vulnerable tonight, and given the distance you’ve created between you and them all these years, you think the least you could do is be honest. It’s a team building thing anyway, and people bond over shared experiences during these times.

“I’ve… dated people but it was never serious,” you start. “I never really saw myself committing to them. Sure, I’d give my time and energy but nothing more. There’s so much courage in loving another person. I just don’t think I’ll ever be brave enough for that. I mean, it’s just hard to control. Once you start, you can’t stop; once you do it too much, you can’t pull back.”

“Sounds to me like you’re afraid that you won’t receive as much as you give,” Manager Lee states. “It’s how love is, though. It’s not always equal. But that’s the risk you take, that’s the trust you build. That even when what’s given isn’t the same, there’s still love there.”

“But isn’t that the scary part of it all?” You counter. “Like what Mr. Ri said, you give a part of yourself to someone when you love them but what if they don’t want that specific part of you? Or they did then one day they decide they don’t anymore? So they just retreat and leave you out in the open. They’re safe but you’re not, because you broke down your walls for them but they didn’t do the same.”

“That’s the thing about finding the right person, ___,” Manager Lee says, with all the wisdom of a man who’s loved and lost and loved again. “You either trust that they won’t do that, or you accept that they could and you’d still think that loving them is worth all the pain that losing them would cost. In the end, you get to decide. If you keep yourself from feeling it, how are you to know what’s worth it and what isn’t?”

You’ve heard versions of these words before, too. Soomin and Jimin, whose respective relationship ups and downs you’ve witnessed, have said themselves that committing yourself to someone takes a whole lot of faith in the person and in yourself. It’s because you’re giving them an opportunity to hurt you but you have to trust that they won’t. A lot of times, they do, so you then have to trust in your own ability to get over them.

The thoughts swim in your head and with your silence, Chin-sun gives you an encouraging smile. She’s a few years older than you and has experienced a lot when it comes to relationships, and you can sense that she understands your hesitation and your fear.

“It’s scary but when you find someone who makes you feel brave, that can make all the difference,” she says.

Admitting all this makes you feel exposed, especially when your eyes flit to Jungkook and you find him gazing at you, as if he’s trying to figure you out. You’re worried that any other move you make or things you say will lead him to uncovering your feelings that you acknowledge is beyond just physical attraction at this point.

You find yourself worrying about him constantly, wondering what he’s doing or if he’s getting proper rest. You’re always thinking about his smile and the sound of his laugh, and you imagine how much sweeter and softer they could get. You want him to be happy, to find his peace, to have something to look forward to. And you want to know what his touch feels and how it’s like to have him close.

You know all this is wrong because of who you are and who he is in this world, especially as you realize that you’ve never felt anything quite like this before. The fear makes itself even more known as it is embodied in the man across from you - so palpable and overwhelming that you can’t help but want more, and the more his eyes bore into you, the closer you are to giving in.

How are you to know what’s worth it and what isn’t if you don’t let yourself feel all of it? And if Jungkook makes you feel brave, then what if he’s the person you’re willing to break down your walls for?

You shake your head, knowing you can’t fall into the trap of your own mind. You need to be logical about this, but you also think that you’ve been that way all your life and it hasn’t brought you much happiness. At this point, you question what that looks like.

Maybe it looks like him. Maybe it’s also life without him.

How do people make decisions like this? You wonder. How do they know how much pain they can bear? And when does it become worth it?

“Wise words,” you manage to say after a tense silence. “You make it sound simple.”

“Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t,” Chin-sun says. “Human beings are complicated, ___, so are our emotions. Love makes people stupid. But it also makes us brave and happy and complete. And when it’s shared with the right person, god it feels so good.”

You’re able to get her to share about her own experience and remove the spotlight away from you. Manager Lee narrates his serendipitous love story as well, and the serious tone of the conversation turns into a giddy, enjoyable one. You find yourself constantly glancing at Jungkook, liking his soft smiles and giggles as the stories are told. He briefly meets your eyes during some moments though, and that’s when you look away.

The night ends when he announces that everyone should get some rest and prepare for tomorrow’s activities, so you all clean up and wish each other a good night. Your eyes linger on Jungkook as he walks back to his villa, and you turn away before he does the same, the yearning for him getting stronger as each day passes.

The sun shines beautifully over the lake as you lean on the railing overlooking the water. The clouds over the mountains look like the fog that cleared earlier, and the majestic way that the scenery is framed by the blue skies is absolutely stunning.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Jungkook hums from several meters next to you. “I never really bothered to appreciate this view before.”

“It is,” you say, turning to him as he continues to gaze at the scene before you while you gaze at him. If he notices from his periphery, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s breathtaking. I could take a picture but that wouldn’t give this justice.”

“I can try,” he says, reaching out to ask for your phone. “I’m good at this.”

You indulge him and watch as he finds the right angle to beautifully capture the surroundings. He asks if you want him to take another photo with you in it this time, and though you’re a little shy, you let him.

You warm at how natural your smile looks, realizing that you were focusing on his smile while he was taking the picture. The view looks surreal but you’re in there, and it’s a reminder of where you are and who you’re with. Jungkook remarks that it’s a nice shot before turning back to the water, and while you wish you were braver and had asked to take one with him so you could hold onto this memory, you know you’ll look at this photo of you and also remember what you’re feeling. There’s so much calm and clarity, and you know it’s not just because of the mountains.

The tension and fear that filled you up last night have slowly turned into a sense of relief. The distance that once bothered you about Jungkook now gives you comfort. No matter how far or unattainable he may be, you still feel his presence - his warmth is in the peacefulness of a park at night, or in the calmness of the lake, or in the safety of your neighborhood library. You never imagined that one Jeon Jungkook would ever make you feel this way, and if he’s someone who makes you be brave to feel something new, maybe you owe it to him and to yourself to be brave to pursue that, too.

Your thoughts are disrupted when Yohan yells that breakfast is ready. You all gather in the common dining room for some dumpling soup before a short planning session to give you time to digest. At 9:30, the first activity begins, with all six of you divided into two teams to finish an obstacle course.

It gets competitive when you’re teamed up with the younger ones, as Do-hyun and Yohan attempt to trash talk the others. They give it their all, especially when they see Jungkook dominating the kayaking part of the course, but the three of you manage in the end. A part of you feels that the other team just wanted to make the younger ones win only to use it against them later on, but the fun and excitement are what matter.

You enjoy some meat and stew for lunch and have another planning session before doing the afternoon games, which has Jungkook on the losing team again. He comes up with a last minute individual game that gives Manager Lee the chance to win this time, and the afternoon ends with all of you, excluding him, winning prizes you can enjoy after this.

The free time before dinner has you reading your book by the lake and then talking with Chin-sun in the hammock while the rest of the team enjoy the sunset and some beer. You’re thankful that this time, Mr. Ri was tasked to handle all the activities instead of you, and so you’re able to focus on spending time with your colleagues.

You grill meat again for dinner, roast marshmallows over the campfire, and passionately sing off-key in the karaoke. But unlike last night, people decide to go to bed early, definitely tired from today’s physical activities.

You’re exhausted as well but somehow, the pull of the cold evening air is too strong, so you decide to walk to the main house and grab a bottle of beer. When you walk out to the deck, you’re surprised to find Jungkook seated on a lounge chair outside of his villa, glass in hand as he looks up at the sky.

Jungkook savors the crisp breeze, knowing that once he gets back to Seoul, all he’ll have is the musty air and the buzzing sounds of the city. He wants to remember this weekend and the peace he felt. Maybe he should’ve taken a photo of the view this morning like he did for you; he at least has the one of you in it that he took ingrained in his mind. You looked so calm and happy; he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face then.

He’s trying to keep as much of today in his memory as he can, knowing how hectic it’s going to be when you all get back. Other than the amount of fun he didn’t expect to have with the team, he enjoyed seeing a different side of you.

You were competitive but encouraging, probably not the most athletic but definitely capable. He could pick out your squeals and laughter and he thought they were sweet and hypnotic, and he appreciated how thoughtful you were during dinner, making sure everyone had enough to eat, especially him. You would catch his attention to ask if his meat is okay or if he’s feeling comfortable; he hated that it all ended so soon. Though he shouldn’t, he wanted more time with you. It’s different being out here than it is in the office or even in his home. Here, he’s unguarded and a lot more free, and he’s able to make more sense of how you affect him; in a way, he’s able to truly feel all that you make him feel.

There’s so much of you in his mind but you’re not around, so he stands up to head to bed already, hoping he’d at least see you in his dreams. But when he turns towards the door, he sees a silhouette in the main house’s deck. And as if the universe is giving him some sign, he finds you there, standing by the post with a beer in hand. You lift the bottle in cheers and he lifts his drink in return, sipping every last drop he could.

He sees you grab another bottle from the outdoor fridge then place it on the coffee table, an invitation to join you that he’s glad you make. He would’ve been too hesitant to make the move, unsure of your willingness to be in his presence.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask as he nears the couch.

He sits next to you, the short distance a little too tempting to close.

“Sort of,” he hums. “And you?”

“Not really. I don’t get much of the outdoors back in my tiny apartment,” you chuckle.

“Fair enough. The weather’s been nice, fortunately. Not like the last time we were out of town, yeah?”

“Yeah, fortunately,” you shyly look at him, not saying more, perhaps unsure if it’s something he’s ready to talk about.

“It’s okay,” he assures you. “I’ve accepted you having witnessed my extreme moment of weakness. You were patient and understanding even when I was angry and I… I don’t know if I’ve thanked you enough for that.”

“You have, and I understand it all. But Jungkook, what happened at that guest house is not weakness,” you insist. “That’s… dealing with a painful memory.”

“That wasn’t dealing, ___. I was suffering. That's… that’s what happens when someone doesn’t know how to move on from something.”

“Does it happen a lot?” You wonder.

“Well, the nightmares tend to happen when the thunder is really loud,” he says. “Otherwise I just get really anxious, like when it rains, my brain just expects things to get bad.”

“What do you do when it does?”

“I don’t know how I manage, actually,” he answers. “I usually forget and just remember that I wake up dry in my bed. I mean, I’d be sweating but not soaked. I guess that night, I was just too nervous because the rain was so strong, we were on the road. And I was somewhere completely unfamiliar with you. I… I think that made it worse.”

Your silence prompts him to clarify. “I mean, I didn’t want you to see me that way, that’s why it was worse,” he states. “It’s not a side of me I’m proud of. Which is silly thinking about it now because you’ve seen a lot of sides of me that I’m not proud of. All of them, actually.”

“So you’re not proud of the side of you that protected me? That made sure I was safe? That rushed to find me when I was stuck in the rain?” You ask.

“It’s what any decent human being would do,” he dismisses. “Those just probably stand out because I wasn’t exactly one in the beginning.”

“Well, you had Mr. Ri drive me. You’d make me go home early sometimes, too.”

“___, again, that’s what a decent boss should be doing. It’s the bare minimum. You deserve more kindness than you’re receiving. I… I should have been that to you from the start.”

“We’ve moved past that, remember? It’s all okay. I managed, I stayed. And I’m glad I did. I got to learn so much from you,” you assure him. “And you deserve more kindness than you’re receiving, too.”

Jungkook hums. He wouldn’t have thought that he’d be able to freely talk to you about all this - about how he was before and how he’s been recently. And like always, you’re gentle with him. He could only hope you’re as gentle as you are with yourself, something he doesn’t know how to do.

“I… I hope you’ve found ways to cope with all that you went through,” he says, turning away from you in shame. “I… I’m still learning.”

“It’s a process, and it’s not an easy one. No one really tells you how to do it. You kind of just… find your way,” you share. “But just think that the thunder doesn’t last long. It’s going to pass. So maybe when it starts raining, you can do what I did. Just cover your ears to block out the sounds. All we can do sometimes is shield ourselves from it, you know? It would scare us a little less.”

“I don’t even remember how you did it,” he admits. “I felt so out of it that night.”

“But did it help?” You ask.

He nods in response. “I wasn’t alone. I think that was the first time in a long time.”

“When you are, just do what I do,” you say, turning towards him and closing the distance to cover his ears with your hands. “Edge of the palms or your fingers then press tightly. The hollowness will drown out the sounds until they stop.”

Jungkook’s eyes swim in yours. He can’t tell you that he doubts it’d work without you, since your comforting look and your calm voice are what made him pull through. But still, he knows that imagining you’re there would definitely help.

“Edge of the palms or your fingers then press tightly,” he repeats, almost like a whisper. “Got it.”

You smile and it’s like a spell for him, as he mindlessly puts his hands over yours and slowly brings them down. He’s so lost in you that he only realizes he’s still holding your hands when you look down, so he immediately pulls away.

“Who taught you how to do that?” He asks, masking his embarrassment.

“My mom,” you answer, shifting back on your seat and looking out at the horizon. “My dad copped out before he knew I existed and she was too heartbroken to ask for him back. It took a while but she eventually found another man. I was pretty young then. He was okay, but then he lost his job and things went downhill from there.”

Jungkook sees the way your face falls and he already knows his heart is going to break for you.

“He would drink a lot and they’d fight all the time. He’d yell and yell, and then yell some more,” you narrate. “Mom would make me hide in the closet or under the bed just so I’d hear less of it. Thunder used to scare me, too; it sounded like his banging on the wall when he’d scream at her but eventually, I realized the roar drowns him out so I welcomed it. But I would just cover my ears and think of happy thoughts like she said. Sometimes she’d come to me and do it like I did with you. I always liked that better.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, wanting to take your hand back and comfort you in any way. “You shouldn’t have experienced that.”

“Life isn’t fair sometimes,” you sigh, having accepted the hand you were dealt. “My mom and I got out and she found someone who loves and respects her. And we just found ways to deal with the pain, you know? We could only bury it for so long. And so covering my ears just became a habit as I grew up. It was a way to battle all that.”

“I’ve seen you do that a few times.”

“It’s like a general coping mechanism of some sort,” you explain. “Sometimes the loud sounds come from inside, too. Thoughts of not being good enough, of being selfish, of not deserving of happiness… I mean, they come from others but they stay in my head. I have to cover my ears to stop them from overwhelming me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, looking away in shame when you turn to him questioningly. “You did that several times during my first weeks. I know I… I said things that hurt you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It was hard for everyone and like I said, I forgive you. But I've been told worse things,” you shake your head. “You’ve heard some of them.”

“You didn’t deserve those either.”

“I know. That’s why I walked away. It’s easy to do that when you don’t give much of yourself to them. And I do it all the time,” you say. “I never really stay.”

“Would you stay if you found the right person?”

You remember a conversation with him months ago, about people being temporary and how they’d only stay if they had a reason to. It’s safe to say that finding the right person would be your reason, but that also makes it harder.

“I probably would,” you respond. “And I think that scares me, too.”

“Why?” He asks.

“What if I would stay for them? But they won’t stay for me?”

Jungkook leaves your question unanswered, knowing there’s nothing he can say that would sufficiently validate your fear nor comfort you about it. His own past relationship doesn’t give him any right - Chaerin left him but he gave her all the reasons to; she walked away and he did the same. Sometimes he wonders if she’d lost him before he lost her. He also doesn’t know if he loved her so much that he let her go, or if he didn’t love her enough to make her stay. Maybe it was neither. Or maybe he was just too scared - that she’d reject him, or that he wouldn’t be able to love her better if he she came back, he doesn’t know. He was never brave enough to find out.

He lets the silence linger, prompting you to remark that the conversation is too sad for a night as pretty as tonight.

“We should probably head to bed, though,” he suggests. “We still have stuff in the morning then a long ride home. I don’t have to remind you how hectic this next week is gonna be.”

“You just did,” you frown, earning you a laugh. “But I agree. Thank you for keeping me company tonight.”

Your shy smile makes his breath hitch. He wants this to go on for longer but he knows he might just let his guard down even more, maybe share about his other pains and frustrations and worries about life. Maybe he’ll end up moving closer to you, close enough that he’d smell your classic rose scent that makes his mind feel hazy. Maybe he’ll want more, and he reminds himself of all the boundaries he shouldn’t cross, and that crossing them may push you away.

So he says goodnight and you both walk towards your respective villas, looking back one more time before heading inside.

You’re all he thinks about for the rest of the night. His gaze follows you all through the next morning, too. He misses your presence when he leaves for Seoul in his own car, and he’s back to being a giddy mess when you message him, saying you hope he got home safely.

It almost feels like the weekend was a dream and when Monday comes, he has to remind himself that he’s back to reality and that includes how he should be when it comes to you. Those days remain in his memory, but when you enter his apartment that morning with the softest smile, and when you meet his eyes as you fix his necktie, he knows it wasn’t a dream. And that somehow, just like him, you wish it didn’t have to end.

It’s been over a week since the team building and you haven’t really moved on from all that happened during those three days. There was the joy of being with your colleagues and the companionship you felt thankful to have. There was also the tranquility of the lake and the refreshing environment that rejuvenated you, making you wish you were back there, especially as you sort through the printed photos from your disposable camera and see the pretty views that you already miss.

There’s that photo you took of Jungkook by the stream that you’ve been staring at, another reason why you want to go back to that time. His eyes are warm and his smile is soft and subtle, unforced and just as captivating. It’s quite calming, and it’s the image that you hold onto later that Thursday evening when you’re piled under loads of paperwork. It’s past 6PM but you can’t afford to leave yet, and the only good thing about it is that he’s still around, and you get to sneak in some glances through the window.

You’ve become that person, smitten by her attractive boss and definitely stupid enough to be overwhelmed by her emotions. You haven’t stopped thinking about him. Everyday that you enter his space, the desire to know him more gets stronger; with every common place you step into, you keep wishing he’d ask you to stay close, that he’d invite you to somewhere reserved for those he lets in. Every time your fingers brush, you’re reminded of the way his hands felt on top of yours and how you wanted him to keep them there, and every look you share makes you hope that you’re not the only one in this mess of emotions. And that if you’ll give in, so would he.

You’re not quite sure what he feels, but if his shy smiles and the way he intensely looks at you before looking away mean anything, then you could at least say that there’s definitely something there. You just don’t know if he would acknowledge it or if like you, it’s gotten too strong that you’re unable to think clearly or act rationally.

Finally done with the last item on your task list for today, you start to pack up. It’s at the same time that Jungkook exits from his room to return a portfolio he took earlier and place it on your desk. You’re about to pick it up but he says you should just leave it there and fix it tomorrow.

But you disregard him. You retrieve the stool and attempt to return the portfolio on the top shelf. It’s a little heavy but you manage; you even start fixing the others that moved because Jungkook’s been getting them these past days. You’re about to step down when you hear his heavy sigh.

“I told you to do that tomorrow,” he groans, walking towards you.

With your back turned, you reply, “I like starting my days with a tidy desk, okay?”

“It’s just one portfolio,” he points out.

“It still takes up so much space. It makes my table look messy.”

“You still could’ve waited. Or you could’ve asked me to help,” he insists, continuing to reprimand you as you try to step down the stool.

He’s a little close, blocking your view of the floor, and that’s why you miss a step and trip again, your squeal echoing throughout the empty floor. You think your heart racing is about to join in on the sounds, too, as it quickens when you realize that Jungkook has caught you by your waist, his tight grip on you sending shivers down your spine.

He’s gotten even closer, as you look up and find his scrunched eyebrows and worried eyes staring back at you. The tension starts to rise but you manage to tell him that you’re fine after he asks if you’re hurt.

“I’m sure,” you tell him. “You caught my fall. Again.”

You giggle and that’s what makes him let out a laugh as well. Your left hand holds onto the shelf but his hands remain on you. He’s still a breath away but you suddenly don’t mind, as your right hand mindlessly makes its way to rest on his arm. At this moment, this feels right. You’re all alone in your little bubble with him where you’re all he sees and he’s all you can breathe in.

His bergamot scent wafts through your nose. You can count his eyelashes and see the scar on his cheek that you never noticed. He’s even more breathtaking up close, and as if all reason evaporates from your body, you don’t pull away. You want him just like this.

On second thought, you want him even closer.

“You’re a clumsy woman, aren’t you?” He says, his voice low and deep. “This isn’t the first time that I’m breaking your fall.”

“Well, if you would just be quiet while I’m attempting to go down, then that wouldn’t be a problem,” you breathily giggle, inching the tiniest bit forward.

“Well, if you just listened to me the first time, then you wouldn't have to climb up there,” he responds, earning him a playful roll of your eyes. “You’re a stubborn one, too.”

“So I’ve heard,” you match his teasing. “Can't help it sometimes.”

“So you acknowledge it?” He raises an eyebrow in intrigue.

“Yeah, I guess,” you say much more nervously now, meeting his eyes. It’s like you’re hypnotized again, caught in some spell where being in his presence makes you honest and uninhibited. “I mean, I feel things I shouldn’t feel and want people I shouldn’t want,” you add. “Doesn’t that make me stubborn?”

“What’s stopping you from feeling them? From having them?” He asks, his voice remaining low and his eyes, even more piercing and desperate now as they stare back at you.

His thumbs lightly caress your waist and his touch electrifies you through the thin material of your blouse. There’s so much to say and it’s way more complicated, just as your feelings for him are. You can’t help but eye his lips, soft and pink, and the desire to know what they taste like intensifies, prompting you to nibble your own.

“What’s stopping me?” You pant now, your gaze flitting from his eyes back to his lips, with him doing the same. “The ways of the world. And some… boundary that pulls me back, a line that I don’t know he’s ready to cross for me.”

The words actualize your fears the moment you say them. You know all the reasons why wanting him is wrong. But there’s a small part of you that wants to give in, and it’s terrified that he wouldn’t, that he’d dismiss what you feel and pull away. The way he’s been with you and the way he’s holding you right now spark that sliver of hope you have that he feels the same way, but it’s also the same moment that he lets you go, perhaps realizing that he’s not willing to take the risk the way you are.

He releases you from his hold and steps back, creating distance, and you suddenly feel bare - exposed and unguarded without his touch. He looks at you in panic, in apology, in fear, as if he’d had some sense knocked into him, as if he awakened from some spell that pushed him close to you, only to realize that that’s a place he can’t go.

“I—”

“I should go,” you interject, turning away so as not to see any more of the rejection in his eyes. “Have a good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

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vidavalor · 6 days ago

Note

Just on the back of your last post about how Aziraphale and Crowley have been a couple for (literal) ages, of which you have me thoroughly convinced, there's one thing I've never been able to figure out.

In 1941, when Crowley saves the books, what are we seeing from Aziraphale? By this point he knows damned 😉 well that Crowley adores him, so I very much doubt the 'this is when Aziraphale realised his love was returned' theory. Is it to do with their holy water fight?

Apologies if you've covered this already but I've read through your master post and most of your previous posts and couldn't find anything. I keep musing on it and thinking 'oh Vidavalor will know but I shouldn't bother them'!

Ground Control to Mr. Tom! 😊 Hi there. 💕 You are correct that I haven't done a post about this, which feels very much like my all-over-the-place blog, because this is one of the most-discussed scenes in the show. 😂 You are absolutely not a bother! Do not speak such silliness. I'm going to explain my take on that scene with some help from The Archangel Fucking Gabriel. Therefore, there is hot chocolate, should you want a mug.😊

This is also going to be my contribution to the Azirafeast celebrations so I wish any of you reading this many scrumptious returns!

Below the cut is the one in which someone who thinks Crowley and Aziraphale have been lovers since ancient Rome offers an opinion on what's going on with Aziraphale and the books in 1941... by way of a look at what we might be able to learn about this moment from its sister moment in Gabriel & Beez's flashback.

Be them real people or fictional ones, angels-- especially our two, main ones on Good Omens-- are not accustomed to feeling seen.

This is largely because they believe they exist to sacrifice themselves for the protection and betterment of others... that this is literally what they were made by God to do... or at least what they've been told God wants them to do... and, as we know, they've got plenty of questions over all of that.

They can often feel guilty about their consumption of resources-- or their curiosity about doing so in different ways-- when they've been told that those resources and the experiences that come with them are not for them, even if all evidence seems to suggest that might not really be the case.

They are told they are supposed to live small lives of sacrifice and are, as a result, full of conflicts about their hungers, their needs, their desires... about their love, and the want of a free life of their own.

They exhibit perfectionist behaviors, are full of self-criticism, and are excessively self-sacrificing.

Intellectually, they know they are a person with wants and needs like everyone else but they've been taught that they are supposed to be above all of that and breaking free of that abuse comes with negative self-thoughts, anxiety, depression, and a whole slew of other fun struggles.

That attempted thought control and oppression of people that is responsible for these angels' inner torment, though? As The Supreme Archangel aptly puts it while having a total breakdown shown by chasing his metaphorical self (The Fly) around the bookshop and trying to kill it with a Bible...

...it never works.

It might, unfortunately, get some people but it never, ultimately, works in society as a whole for very long because people want to live. People are made to live. They will seek out coffee over death and rebel against any society that seeks to oppress them in whatever way that they can. Eventually, angels who want to break free will find different ways of letting themselves be individuals on their own terms, even as they are still full of conflict about it, as we've seen Aziraphale and Gabriel do throughout the story.

They'll express themselves in different ways but with the same sense of desperation to have something of their own as a way of admitting that they are a person, too.

Maybe, one night, an angel will, say, allow himself to indulge his hungers by eating an entire ox... maybe in front of the demon he'd like to consume with just as much enthusiasm. Maybe those hungers become ones that, despite his inner conflicts that lead to periodic episodes of depression and fasting, this angel will allow himself to otherwise regularly satiate, and in which he finds enjoyment, nourishment, connection and peace, that he would not have otherwise found.

Maybe, on another night, a different angel will let himself slip away from Heaven and return having consumed resources for himself, in the form of a tailor-made suit that serves as proof to himself that he isn't just a symbol but an individual person in his own right. Maybe it gives him a connection to his body that also leads to him jogging and exploring more of the world. Maybe he allows himself the freedom of owning what he can of his own body and own appearance because control over these things have otherwise been taken from him in the process of denying his personhood and making him more of a symbol to be venerated.

While these are good examples of these two angels finding different but similar, healthy paths to recognizing themselves as people, it's one thing to recognize yourself but another thing for someone else to recognize you.

Angels are wonderful at taking care of everyone else but they sometimes have a blind spot when it comes to their own needs and safety. They are so busy taking care of everyone else that they are prone to making mistakes with their own care.

Such as this angel below being so pleased with an opportunity to contribute to the war effort that he missed that he'd accidentally let himself be recruited by the wrong side...

...and needing his partner to identify some Nazis and redirect some bombs to keep him from being discorporated...

...and such as this other angel below being pleased with his ability to show care towards his new partner...

...but also, as we can see by the expression in his reaction to Beez's suggestion above, so unused to being cared for that, even if he was intellectually aware of it, the aspect of partnership involving mutual care was so foreign to him that it threw him for a bit of a loop.

Sometimes, an angel will be going through a period of struggle when it comes to their interactions with the world. It's often times not even just the feeling that they should just be advisors more than active participants and that the world is not for them. They are, in these moments, just imposter syndrome run amok, and that robs them of pursuing that which makes them feel happy and fulfilled.

Loving an angel in this mode requires gentle, genuine, affirming care:

The imposter syndrome modes can strike at any time for angels but tend to do so especially when they've very recently tried to engage with the world in a big way and saw it backfire.

Like when they spend a lot of time trying to sort out their place in the world and regularly go back and forth between being so influential that they personally own and have developed an entire city neighborhood but also then have days when they don't want to open their own bookshop to the world.

Like when they are supposed to be an angel and nothing else but, if they could choose a vocation, they'd be doing card tricks and pulling rabbits out of hats at birthday parties for all of eternity, and they feel so massively guilty about it that they tell themselves that the magic shop is not a place for them.

But maybe never more than like when there is a war on... an absolutely massive, global war... the first atomic war, the war that could bring about Armageddon, for all the angel knows... and everyone in the human world is trying to do their bit as best they can and, one day, a young woman claiming to be British intelligence knocks on the door and says that they need the angel-- this particular angel and only him... this angel who sometimes feels like he doesn't always know how best to help but wants nothing more than to be good and do good and help others.

The Allied Forces needs Mr. Fell for an intelligence mission to help thwart the Nazis and work towards stopping the war. And what do they need from this angel, in particular?

They need his books.

Aziraphale collects books of all kinds but he has two major personal collections that are highlighted in the story. One is humorous and self-aware-- a collection of misprinted Bibles. Those are living proof of the fallacy of language and gospel-- of the bullshit of people. They are comforting to him in their existence, as they reinforce his sense that following what others say is the word of God is not really a better path than following his own moral compass. The Allied Forces don't need these books, though.

They need the other ones that Aziraphale has been collecting forever:

His books of prophecy.

This angel collects written works by humans that profess to be prophetic. He has original works of Nostradamus and Mother Shipton and many others. He has preserved them throughout centuries, keeping them safe in his care, even if the works are, largely, complete and utter balderdash. He has kept these books, nutty as they are, safe from damage and in existence, for years, just in the event that maybe these humans, in some way, really did have answers as to the future of the world in which the angel lives, too.

The one that he knows has been slated to be destroyed around 6,000 years from its inception-- a date that was approaching closer with each breath in 1941.

Was it really going to happen? Was there a way to stop it? Aziraphale has been trying to see if maybe the humans have found a way, studying their prophetic works for centuries upon centuries, anxiously looking for clues on how to stop Armageddon and save the world he loves...

...and also therefore be able, as a result, to stay on Earth with the person he loves and not be separated from him for eternity.

It's these books of this angel-- these beloved, material possessions; these perfect examples of everything that he's been told that he's not supposed to have-- that Captain Rose Montgomery of British Intelligence says that he can provide to entrap some Nazis and help save the world for his fellow humans and his partner.

An angel's biggest blind spot is always wanting to help and never feeling like they're doing enough. They're vulnerable to trusting the wrong people for the right reasons. Their desperation to do good and be good in the face of feeling like they're not a good person at all can cause them to have the best of intentions but be open to manipulation by those with the worst of ones.

Sometimes, it's a human Nazi. Sometimes, it's a supernatural one...

...same difference. Both dangerous. Both examples of an area where an angel might not survive if they don't let in a trusted person who can give to them the same love and care they give to everyone else.

The fallout from making a mistake can be devastating to an angel.

They feel embarrassed and snappish-- the anger and frustration related to the miscalculated situation triggering (and masking) the anxiety and depression to which angels are hardly strangers.

They can retreat into self-doubt. Moments of bravery when it comes to trying again are sometimes just as quickly diluted by their compounding insecurity and the fear that they are just jiggery-pokery and do not belong in the world.

This is when they need their demons the most.

Demons? They are fallen angels.

They know all this about angels because they're not much different themselves.

They have had the experience of having to redefine themselves in the face of being told by their societies that they were no longer angels and, in some ways, that has freed the more introspective demons to have enough perspective to offer counsel to willing angels as to how to manage those conflicts.

These demons, like Crowley and Beez, are uniquely well-suited to loving angels because they have also been through these same conflicts-- and still struggle with many of them.

These demons have experienced violence and violation as a result their angelic conflicts. They are drawn towards the inherent goodness of their angels, who approach them with kindness, respect, and a sense of equality to which the demons are not accustomed but which helps to build trust.

Just as these demons seek to protect these angels from harm that might befall them in the future, the angels we're discussing are both mindful of their partners' pasts and take care to help them feel safe. They are emphatic about their partners' comfort, reinforce their expectations of a partnership involving free choice and equality, and continually make clear that they consider-- and will always consider-- explicit, enthusiastic consent essential.

Their demons' knowledge of the darker aspects of the world also make them uniquely aware of the risks to their angels and they seek to protect them from experiencing the same pain they have felt from trusting the wrong faces. They do everything they can to keep their angels from falling-- literally, as in from Heaven, or more figuratively, as into despair.

They give them music and food and companionship... they open up the world for the angels and help them live life with the other people in the pub, literally and metaphorically. They explore the human world with them and make them feel less alone, letting the angels do the same for them.

Loving an angel is first seeing that angel there and acknowledging their humanity. It's affirming their imperfection as being just part of personhood and holding up that personhood as being worthy of love. It is reflecting back to the angels the same empathy, openness, and lack of judgement as what the angels give to them.

It's seeing that the angel who wrestles with living up to the expectations of the statues in his honor and the titles for which he never asked is, really, an imperfect, good-hearted, kind person beneath his snarky, sharp-edged exterior. It's seeing the depression that clouds his eyes and the fine edges he's walking in Heaven and knowing what comes next more than maybe can see in the moment and protecting him, as best as someone can, from the fallout of those actions.

Beez knows what it is to fall. They see Gabriel already in a downward motion in every way there is and knows that it comes with risk of losing himself, the way that they once did themselves. They dump out the matchsticks because the good kind of fire is already lit between them and the fire of Hell is not for their angel. They gift him a fly-- that which is made from their body. They are Gabriel's container. He is safe by putting all of himself, literally and figuratively, into Beez.

While this is a big moment in the Ineffable Bureaucracy parallel and one that also parallels the holy water, Gabriel's response to it is a mirror to Aziraphale's response to Crowley saving the books in 1941. What can Gabriel maybe tell us about what Aziraphale was feeling then, through what is similar and what is different about these two moments?

For starters, Gabriel and Beez knew how they felt about one another before The Fly. They already had shared that through "Everyday". The Fly is not an "oh" moment for Gabriel, in the sense that it wasn't a sudden revelation of either Beez's love or of his own. If anything, he and Beez never really had an "oh" moment in that sense of one because elements of how they both felt were always just understood and present in their interactions.

This is honestly true of a lot of relationships. A lot of "oh" moments are not so much becoming aware of having feelings for someone but are just being hit with a new aspect of love that both/all parties is/are already aware is in existence, even if it hasn't always yet been fully spoken.

In S1, we see that Gabriel and Beez only let their guard down around one another. They have always been as close to friends as they could be in their positions. They already care about one another when we first see them together and then, in S2, Gabriel is completely unsurprised at Beez's flirting with him moments into the first date-- and Beez had no hesitation in doing so, suggesting that they likely have before.

Their attraction to one another is presented as an existing given between them from the very start of their flashback sequence. There's no "oh" over The Fly or anything else because they just know. They start to give words and actions to it as they fall deeper in love throughout the scenes but there's never any doubt that they both have been long-aware of what exists between them.

If anything, Ineffable Bureaucracy is probably the real, millennia-long pining relationship in Good Omens, as while they had all these very good foundations for a romantic relationship, they didn't really begin to pursue one until between S1 and S2.

Gabriel's response to The Fly parallels Aziraphale's response to Crowley saving the books in 1941, even if the contrasting part of the parallel is that both are responses to gestures made by these demons for their angels in very different stages of these relationships.

For Gabriel, The Fly is an "oh" moment-- but not one that is about a new revelation related to love existing. It's about what is, for him, a heartbreakingly new experience:

It's not that Gabriel doesn't already know how he and Beez both feel about one another because already he does by this point. Gabriel isn't having a realization of the existence of his love or of Beez's love when Beez gives him The Fly; he's having a realization that this is what it feels like to be loved.

And what is feeling loved, to an angel?

It's being and feeling truly seen.

It's someone noticing them and coming along to care for them while they're out there, trying to save the world when they're sometimes not sure they can even save themselves. It's someone seeing that in them and not seeing anything worth berating them about the way that they berate themselves but, instead, seeing a person worthy of their love and protection.

Loving an angel is giving them the same kindness and care that they give to the world but that they often deny themselves.

For Gabriel, that night in The Resurrectionist was the first time that anyone had ever done something like that for him. It wasn't an "oh" of I'm in love because he already knew that and that Beez felt the same way. It was an "oh", though, of falling deeper in love. It was an "oh" of feeling love.

Beez had already done kind things for him before they gave him The Fly but The Fly and its matchbox are the first ever physical things Gabriel has been given by someone. He has never had any possessions besides his clothes before. He's never been given a gift.

He and Beez go to bars and pubs on their dates; they're surrounded by humans with songs and birthdays and Christmases and going on dates and living a life that involves tangible, physical things that Gabriel is supposed to be above but to which he is drawn.

On the first two dates we see, he and Beez meet up in places but they do not order anything. They do consume the music together and, by the night at The Resurrectionist, they take another step towards engaging more in the human world that they've largely been absorbing and observing together to date. They do so through allowing themselves to be a part of the space, too-- Gabriel miracling the song on the jukebox for Beez-- but also through material objects.

They start ordering stuff. Gabriel is happy to bring Beez something-- buying them beer and a bag of chips/packet of crisps, even if they're undecided on actually consuming them. He makes it clear that he doesn't have any expectations that Beez actually eat or drink anything if they don't want to but the idea is that they have moved to a place where they can see what the humans see in bringing one another things as they move through the world together.

Gabriel has gone from a being who barely knows why he's meeting Beez in this bar to being excited to see them again and happy to buy them a drink and their preferred snack to stare at. Beez is having a ball getting the food-judgy-if-also-food-curious Gabriel to buy them what they've clearly told him he had best call a packet of crisps if he plans on seeing them again. 😂 They have begun to let themselves claim resources for each other and themselves and to start to get less intense about consumption, which are features of recognizing the humanity in one another and themselves.

Gabriel's "oh" moment when he is given The Fly is that this is the first time he knows what it's like to experience the world as a person who has a person who cares about them and has brought them something.

What he means when he says "no one's ever given me anything before" is really "no one's ever thought about me before."

He means no one has ever seen him there-- until Beez did.

The gift of The Fly reminds Gabriel of that and shows him getting used to the new feeling of not being invisible and alone. He falls deeper in love with Beez and sees them more fully in return as well as a result of their gift and that, it could be argued, is what love is.

Love, if it's good, is a lot of "oh" moments-- because you don't fall in love once. You fall over and over again, deeper each time.

The difference between this moment with Gabriel and Beez versus the paralleling one between Crowley and Aziraphale is that, by 1941, our angel, Aziraphale, has known years upon years upon years of being seen by his demon.

(Amusingly, considering the theme of love as recognition, The Serpent is also literally, ya know, um, rather watchful at times. 😂)

Aziraphale is no stranger to Crowley being kind to him or rescuing him from the times he might have blundered, like we all do at times, in trying to do good.

Crowley saving the books in 1941 is absolutely not the first time that he's ever done something as Beez-and-The-Fly-level romantic as this for Aziraphale. In many ways, that's likely the point.

While The Fly was the first time of what will be many that Gabriel experienced what it was to feel loved by feeling seen, Crowley saving Aziraphale's books is a gesture that could not have happened at all without Crowley's long-held, intimate knowledge of Aziraphale as a person.

What makes Crowley saving Aziraphale's books so romantic isn't even just that he knows how important the books are to Aziraphale but that he knows Aziraphale so well that he could predict that the books would need rescuing.

Crowley knew that his angel would only focus on getting the two of them out of the church alive and unharmed and absolutely was going to forget about those beloved books of his while trying to protect them both and then be completely and utterly crushed when he did.

In this way, it's a contrasting parallel to Gabriel and Beez because, while that was the first time Gabriel had ever felt seen, 1941 is time number six trillion and five that Crowley had made Aziraphale feel seen like this and he's now so well-practiced at it that it's old hat at this point.

There is no judgement from Crowley about what happened with the Nazis in any of this. Aziraphale is horrible to himself over things like mistakes like he made in this church and being forgetful about these books but Crowley sees no such need for any of that. He protects Aziraphale from the fallout but in such a way that says he admires Aziraphale for trying to take the actions that he did. He sees Aziraphale as brave and his actions quietly affirm, much in the way that Beez does for Gabriel, that just because they are an angel who is used to doing for others doesn't mean they're not also a person who needs someone to do for them, too, and that Crowley is happy to be that person.

Aziraphale is reminded by Crowley knowing him well enough to anticipate that the books will need to be saved and taking care of that for him that they are a team. That Aziraphale doesn't have to worry about managing everything on his own because he and Crowley help each other manage life. They know each other well and have been together so long that they just know how to take care of one another.

It's not an "oh" of a realization of I'm in love for the first time. It is, as Michael Sheen says, a moment of falling in love. It's an "oh" of having been in love for a very long time and that love still finding new ways to surprise in its ability to keep causing Aziraphale to happily fall deeper and deeper...

This isn't realizing love and it's not the first time that Crowley has done something sweet and romantic like this for him-- it's the power of it being the nine billionth time Crowley has. It's the feeling of "oh" for Aziraphale that is a reminder that he is safe in the knowledge that Crowley knows him, through and through, and when confronted with the most real Aziraphale there is... the one that can be prone to making mistakes out of insecurities and self-doubt... the one that struggles sometimes with self-worth and brutal perfectionism... Crowley knows, sees him there, and is still madly in love with him.

Crowley never sees Aziraphale as weak or lesser for feeling any of it. He loves those sides of Aziraphale because he loves all of Aziraphale. He won't let Aziraphale be embarrassed because he likes and admires him as he is. He's gentle and kind and understanding about Aziraphale's insecurities, treating Aziraphale with the same care that Aziraphale shows him.

Crowley, better than anyone else ever has or will, sees Aziraphale for who Aziraphale truly is.

He loves that angel and his love helps Aziraphale to quiet some of his self-doubts and be a little kinder to himself-- much in the same way that Aziraphale's love does for Crowley. Crowley loving him makes Aziraphale feel like maybe there's a chance that he might be worth loving.

Loving an angel is making them feel seen and Aziraphale, holding those books Crowley rescued for him?

He felt very loved indeed.

The "oh" moment of 1941 is one moment where we see that Aziraphale has just been reminded of just how much Crowley truly sees him there-- and of just how much Crowley loves him. What we are watching, imho, is not the first realization of love but just one of a million different moments throughout history of Aziraphale continuing to fall deeper and deeper in love with Crowley.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens meta #ineffable bureaucracy #the archangel fucking gabriel #lord beezlebub #good omens 1941 #azirafeast2024 #feast of aziraphale #azirafeast

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myg-butterfly · 2 years ago

Text

How Many Things

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi invites you out to a party with him, and in trust, you say yes. But what happens when you lose him in the crowd, just to find him again with someone else by his side? In the midst of panic and longing, you wonder how many things he thinks about before he gets to you.

Tags: Non-Idol AU, Anti-Social Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Anxiety, descriptions of panic attacks, Yoongi is an asshole for a minute, some of his friends are big time assholes, insecurities, social anxiety, lots of feelings, Teahyung and Namjoon are sweethearts, crying, jealousy, author's first fic lol.

A/N: HEY HELLO HI!!! This is my first fic that I'm publishing here so pls be gentle 🙏 And if you enjoy, leave feedback, good or bad, I love interactions. This is self-indulgent comfort that I've been thinking about for a long while and I was like ,,,,,, Yoongi got me 🥰🙏 Also this was slightly inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's "how many things" from her album EICS go listen if you want the extra angst. So yeah, enjoy!

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You began to panic, the music was so, so loud, the clattering of dishes and glasses from the bar, the yelling, all the bodies and their humidity, it was all becoming too much, and to your dismay, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen.

You tried to recollect yourself as you began pushing through the crowd, determined on finding him. With every slip past a person, every step and stumble, you grew even more exhausted, but then finally, Yoongi came into view.

He was to the other end of the bar, a smile plastered in all his glory. Whoever he was talking to was clearly making him laugh, and just the sight of him made the tension in your shoulders ease a little bit. You were just about to call out to him, maybe even when fling yourself in his arms, but then-

Then you saw her. The one responsible for the way his face was currently scrunched with a happy grin. They stood close to each other, even as they turned the other way and moved to take a seat together at the bar. They were hand in hand, they looked like the human embodiment of perfection.

You felt your heart deflate as Yoongi pulled out a chair for her, proceeding to signal something to the bartender, the peace sign on his fingers and the pointing between him and her gave you the idea he asked for a drink for both of them. They continued to laugh and talk, and you had to force yourself to look away.

The sight of them made you remember why you hated going out, but even worse, you remembered why you vowed to not get romantically attached to anyone, especially not Yoongi.

The turning of your stomach was becoming hard to ignore, your quick breaths making matters worse. You knew you had to get out of there; with or without Yoongi. So with one last glance at him -who was still engrossed deeply in conversation with the woman next to him, leaning to whisper something in her ear and her reacting in a flustered manner- you fought your way to the door, tears beginning to spill the moment the night breeze greeted you.

As much as you wanted to just run and run and run until your body gave out on you, you knew better than to try and make it back to the dorms by foot.

You sighed defeatedly and pulled out your phone, texting the one person who you knew would be here without fail. As much as you didn't like bothering him (even though he's told you countless times you're not) you knew he'd scold you if you walked home on your own, and a scolding from him was never an enjoyable experience.

Y/N: are you busy rn?

Namjoon: Not currently. Why?

Y/N: can u pls come pick me up

Namjoon: Where are you? Are you safe?

Y/N: yeah, here's my location *📍*

Namjoon: I'll be there in less than 10. Stay put, okay?

Y/N: ok. ty joon.

Putting your phone away, you sat at the nearest bench you found, and attempted to stop the tears from falling further before Namjoon arrived.

But no matter how hard you tried, it was pretty much impossible to not think about why you were out here in the first place. Were you overreacting? Yoongi's allowed to have friends. So why are you so hurt? It's not even like you're together or anything.

In all honesty, you wanted to be mad at them.

You wanted to be mad at him for giving you even the slightest hope that there might be something more between you two.

You wanted to be mad at that girl he was with for being so damn perfect for him, for being everything that you could never begin to come close to.

But deep down you didn't have it in you to be angry at anyone but yourself.

How could you have been so stupid?

You knew that no one would want you romantically, you knew that all he felt for you was pity, that you'd never come first, and yet you still got your hopes up.

You let yourself dream that he wanted you like you wanted him. You believed all those things he said out of pity, all the reassurances and compliments, you knew that they were nothing but him simply being who he is; a naturally kind person.

You knew all of this, so why the hell were you crying? Why were you walking out and aimlessly trying to find anywhere else to go?

'Pathetic' you scoffed at yourself. You were being immature, everything everyone else had said about you was true. You were stupid to think otherwise.

Before you could continue to wallow in your self-pity, you felt a small tap to your shoulder, and you looked up to find Namjoon looking down at you.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" You quickly wiped away your remaining tears and nodded your head, standing up to greet him. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Thank you for coming Namjoon." You bowed slightly, trying your best to look well put together. "It's no problem dear. My car's this way, come on."

"You want me to drive you back to your apartment?" You both got in his car and he asked as you put on your seatbelts. "Yes, please. Thank you." He only hummed in response as he began to drive, a soft tune playing on the radio, just loud enough to make it less awkward.

Namjoon knew you probably weren't in the mood to talk, and you were grateful for the silent understanding you guys shared. You weren't awfully close, but you'd shared your own personal memories with each other, and you mutually knew the other would be willing to lend a hand when needed. That's what you liked about him. He was just understanding like that.

The drive to your apartment was short, and even though you lived on the 3rd floor, Namjoon insisted on walking you to your door.

"Hey, take care okay? If you need anything else don't hesitate to call me, yeah?" He said as you reached your door, the genuine look on his face made you tear up once more.

"Yeah. Thank you, Joon." You waved him off as you stepped into your apartment, closing the door as he began to turn around.

You immediately kicked off your heels and went to grab a glass of water. You chugged it down as if you hadn't had a drop of water in days, proceeding to open your fridge and let the waterworks begin as you realized your appetite was gone just seeing the carton of orange juice sitting there with a sticky note that reads, "YOONGI'S!!! DO NOT DRINK >:("

He'd helped you with your groceries about 2 weeks ago, and the orange juice he bought was claimed by him, protesting that he needed "emergency juice" because he was at your apartment so often.

Not wanting to look at his skrunkly handwriting anymore, you shut the fridge door and rested your head in your hands on the kitchen counter.

The more you thought about it, the more prominent the ache in your chest became. He was the one who invited you to that party in the first place. He was the one who wanted you to have fun. He was the one that promised he wouldn't leave your side. Yet here you were, back at the dorms, hugging yourself in attempts to conceal your heartbreak.

If you had gone on your own and just happened to see him there with another girl, then that would have been a different story.

But no.

Yoongi himself told you two nights ago that he was invited to a party, and he wanted you to accompany him as his plus one. And as nervous and hesitant as you were, he spurred you on, encouraging; "No matter what you wear you'll look stunning." And "Everyone will love you" and "I won't leave your side, okay?"

That one stung the most when you thought about it, because not even 15 minutes into the party, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. You could tell that most of his friends weren't too fond of you, and you felt ridiculous in the pink dress you wore.

You thought of how you'd taken hours to be able to look at yourself in the mirror and not cry at your appearance made you cringe. You tried so hard to look nice, to feel pretty, to feel wanted, and it still didn't work.

You grew angrier, why weren't you good enough? What made it so hard to love you? You practically ripped off your dress, the fabric suddenly piercing your skin, your arms wiping off your already smearing makeup furiously, and you stomped to your bed, plopping down violently before letting out a strangled groan that sounded more like a whimper.

You felt like shit. Your whole night was shit.

Were you overreacting? You had been rude too. I mean, you left without even telling him. You're just as bad, right?

He's the one who left you standing there, Y/N. Your brain going back and forth until you decided that falling asleep would be easier.

"Sooo how'd it go with lover boy last night? Assuming things went well from what I saw." An overly excited Taehyung appeared at your side, a smug grin on his face as he poked your arms. You just shrugged your shoulders as a response, the mere mention of the previous night was enough to deflate your already souring mood.

"Don't give me that look, Y/N! I know you and Yoongi got it on last night!" Taehyung flailed his arms accusingly, as if waddling around would make his statements true. "We didn't get it on, Taehyung. Literally nothing happened. Nothing." You tried to remain calm as you spoke, but your patience was running thin.

"Oh come on Y/N. Yoongi was absolutely plastered this morning and you're gonna try to tell me nothing happened?" He kept on going as he shook your shoulders, and it took everything in you to not slap his hands away.

"Did he get home safe last night?" Your brows furrowed in slight worry at the mention of Yoongi being wasted, and no matter how hurt you were, you had to know if he was okay.

"Uh, yeah. Were you drunk too? I thought you guys left together. Do you not remember?" The lump in your throat was becoming harder to swallow down as Taehyung spoke. You had to be strong. You were not gonna cry over this to your poor friend who's excited.

"You know I don't drink. And, no we didn't leave together. I asked Namjoon to take me home." You hoped he'd stop asking questions, but much to your dismay- "You left with Namjoon?!?! Does Yoongi know?!?!? Did anything happen with him!?" At this point you were on the brink of tears, you hated talking about this.

"Taehyung, please let it go. I just wanted to know if Yoongi got home safely. Can we please just drop it?" Taehyung caught onto your pleading tone and the hurt look in your eyes, and he nodded with his softened expression.

"Sorry Y/N, I didn't mean to pry." He spoke cautiously. "It's okay Tae."

He shot you another worried look before returning to walking in silence beside you once again.

The rest of the day went painfully slow, your mind too exhausted to deal with walking from one side of campus to the other, and much less to pay attention to what your professors were saying.

Expectedly, you collapsed onto your bed the moment you went back to your dorm. You were gladly going to continue feeling sorry for yourself, but the ringing of your doorbell rudely interrupted you.

You groaned, hoping they'd just go away, but after a few seconds another ring came. You [grumpily] got up, running your hands through your hair in attempt to look somewhat presentable.

As you made your way to the door, you wondered who could be at your apartment, especially now that it was beginning to get late, the sun going down quickly outside.

You hesitantly opened the door, immediately wishing you would've just continued to ignore whoever was at the door once you saw who was standing in front of you.

"Hi, I brought dinner." There Yoongi stood with a soft smile on his face, lifting a brown bag in reference to dinner.

You stood stunned, wanting to say something, but your mind went blank.

"Y/N? You there?" He playfully waved his hands around trying to get your attention.

"Oh, uhm, yeah. Sorry. Just didn't expect you to come by."

"Oh, sorry if I startled you. I texted you but you didn't respond, and you didn't answer last night when I called, so I wanted to come check if you were okay." He shuffled from foot to foot, worry evident in his eyes.

"Oh, just haven't been on my phone lately." You looked down, feeling unsure on how to talk to him without showing him your hurt.

"Oh alright. So, we heading in for dinner?" The smile returned to Yoongi's face, and no matter how hurt you were, you still found it hard to say no to him.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Of course."

You opened the door a little further and stepped aside to let him in.

On a normal occasion, dinner with Yoongi would've been the highlight of your day. But now, it was filled with awkward silence and poor attempts at small talk — Yoongi hates small talk as much as you, so you don't know why he's still trying — the tension in the air was hardly going unnoticed.

It wasn't until you finished eating that he decided to just rip the bandage off.

"Are you angry with me?" Yoongi asked, and you almost questioned if he was being serious or not, but the expression he held made you realize that he was in fact clueless about the hurt he put you through.

You weren't sure what to say, so you stayed silent. I mean, it's not like you were angry at him. But you also weren't too happy with him either. Yoongi felt his heart drop as your gaze dropped his own, denying him from an answer.

"Y/N? Did I do something?" He asks from across the table where he's sitting.

For some reason hearing those words from him made the tears you've been holding back so well spill over.

Did he really have no idea? Were you genuinely overreacting? Did you just make everything up in your head?

"Do you really not know?" You tried to push your voice out firmly, but it came out in a broken whisper. You wanted to look at Yoongi, you wanted to see if his face washed over with realization, but your eyes stayed glued to the floor.

"Is this about me getting drunk at that party? I thought you said you didn't mind if I had alcohol." His wording sounded harsher than he intended, but with your already weakened state, you had to hold back from full on sobbing right there in front of him.

"This is about you leaving me by myself in the middle of the party when you promised you wouldn't leave my side!" Your frustration began to take over, did he really not see it? He's supposed to know you better than anyone else.

"Leaving you by yourself? Last thing I heard, you had found yourself a new companion for the night." Yoongi scoffed, his mood souring when he recalls finding out that apparently you'd left with some other guy.

The drinks he'd had were enough to make the night slightly blurry and to make him work a little harder to recall the night's events, but unfortunately, they weren't enough to make him forget how someone had stole you away from him.

"Where did you hear that?" You asked, trying to mask the hurt you were currently feeling.

"My friends" He responded, as if that was supposed to change what you had said.

"Your friends ... the ones you introduced me to?"

"Yeah"

"Your friends really don't seem to like me." You muttered, but Yoongi somehow caught the soft mumbling.

"What do you mean? To me it looked like they were all happy to meet you." His tone remained cold, and you felt more tears forming quickly.

"Well, you weren't there with me when they all laughed at me because I'd lost you in the crowd." You tried to defend yourself.

"They're not like that, I know they aren't."

"You wouldn't know how they acted towards me because you left me alone." You continued on, his face morphing into one resembling more of guilt.

"He left you already? Didn't even last half an hour."

"They haven't even had 1 drink tonight, no wonder Yoongi ran away so fast. Prude."

You winced while recalling how they'd laughed at you when you tried asking for Yoongi, passing it off as a joke when you'd gotten visibly upset.

You softened your tone, sadness catching up with you and replacing your frustration.

"It hurt, Yoongi. You know me better than anyone. You're supposed to know me better than anyone. You know how much I hate parties and bars, how I hate talking to people I don't know, how I don't do things alone. Ever. And you know that if I made you promise to not leave my side it's because I'm not ever planning to leave yours either. Do you know how bad it hurt to be panicking only to turn around and see you having the time of your life? Especially with someone else, when you promised me that night was for you and I only? It hurt, so damn bad."

Yoongi's heart dropped at your words, had it really been that bad for you? How did he not notice?

"I didn't leave with anyone yesterday, Namjoon brought me back to my apartment and left the moment I walked inside that door. You're the one that left with someone else last night, and it wasn't me."

A thick moment of silence engulfs you, and you begin to wait for a snap, or some sort of outburst from Yoongi, but all that comes is—

"Y/N... I- Shit. That's not-" You looked up hesitantly at the sound of Yoongi fumbling his words. He ran a hand through his hair in disbelief before slowly moving closer and crouching down in front of you. "I'm so sorry Y/N. I swear didn't mean to leave you. I went to go get the drinks, I did. And then when I couldn't find you I went and asked my friends if they had seen you, and they said that you'd gone off dancing with some guy, and so I went to go look for you and I ran into a classmate, which is the girl you saw me with. And I thought, since Y/N's off with someone else, it wouldn't hurt to have a drink with a girl from my class. I wouldn't have left you if I knew that you were by yourself. I'm so sorry."

Yoongi's gaze dropped to the floor as he finished, ashamed for being the root of your tears.

"I should've known better, I- I was just so opposed to seeing you happy with someone else that I immediately rejected the idea of looking for you to avoid the possibility of someone else making your night special. And I know that's not really a valid excuse, not looking for you because I was jealous- of something that wasn't even fucking happening- it isn't fair to you whatsoever. I'm so sorry, Y/N. I truly am." He takes your hands in his and takes a moment to recollect his next words.

"What can I do to make it up to you? Even if it's just the smallest fraction, I want to show you how sorry I am. Anything you want. Please." You paused for a moment, even though your conscience immediately knew what you wanted.

Hold me. Please. Hold me. Nudge your head with mine, lock our pinkies, put your leg against mine, anything. Please, hold me.

With your brain screaming mantras of 'I need to be held', you reached out for him for a second, before your body jerked to a stop.

No. I need him to hold me. I need him to reach out. He needs to initiate- please-

Yoongi's quick to notice your body language, and equally quick to react. "Do you want to be held, sweetheart?" You swear you felt yourself physically start to glow at the sound of him uttering the words you've been dying to hear for god knows how long.

You nod your head and you're so delighted by the aspect of someone- well, not just someone, but Yoongi- comforting you, that you don't even notice the soft whimper that leaves you as he scoots closer to you.

"Words, darling." He says softly, and your body automatically responds with soft chants of "Yes, please, yes Yoongi."

You don't even notice how tears begin to fall against your cheeks again when you feel Yoongi's hands wiping them away.

"C'mere, I've got you baby. Let's go to bed, yeah?" He grabs your legs and wraps them around his torso, before he holds you against him tightly and begins to stand up with you in his arms.

You feel yourself melting at the pet names he's giving you, glad that he's carrying you because you're sure your legs would've given out on you at this point.

You continue turning to mush when you feel how gently Yoongi sets you down once you reach your bed, how he squeezes your hand and asks for permission to lay with you with his eyes, how he reaches for you under the covers and cradles you close, fingers running through your hair softly.

The bliss is only momentarily, broken when your mouth moves faster than your brain;

"Yoongi?"

"Hm?"

"Why did it upset you when you thought I was at the club with someone else?" Your question comes out as a whisper, scared for his response.

"Y/N." He pulls back a little to see your face.

"Yoongi." You reply mocking his tone.

"Are you really gonna make me spell it out for you?" He's secretly glad that it's dark in your room, otherwise you'd be able to see the blush coating his cheeks.

"What are you talking about?" You ask, and his only response is a huff while pulling your head back into his chest.

"Yoooongiiii" Your whine comes out muffled by his shirt.

"Y/nnnnnn" It's now Yoongi's turn to mock your tone.

"Answer the questionnnn"

You feel the vibrations of his chest as he mumbles something into your hair, and you would've lost it on the spot if you weren't so focused on getting an answer out of him.

"Yoongi I can't understand you when you're mumbling like a child." You chuckle slightly, not wanting to dwell on how you can feel his heart beating rapidly against you before he mumbles once again, only this time louder.

"I don't understand you for shit." At this, Yoongi lets go of you and sits up with a sigh, looking at you for a second before securing his gaze on his hands. You follow suit and sit up as well, only slightly behind him.

"I like you. I've liked you. For a really long while." His voice is so soft and it sounds so timid, you almost think you're imagining it.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Wait- that's not a good way to respond to that. Uhhh- wait." You quickly shift so you're facing him fully.

"Do you mean like as in 'you're a homie' or like as in 'you're not just the homie you're THE homie'? Because before I say anything you would have to clari-"

"Do you think I do this with all my friends?" He cuts off your nervous ramble, grabbing both of your shaky hands with his equally shaken ones.

"What specifically?"

"All of it."

"Wha-"

"The sharing food? The holding hands and carrying you and bringing dinner over and inviting them everywhere with me? The cuddling and the 'baby' and 'doll'? You know how I am about my personal space, and you know how I am about my sleep, and you know how I am about affection. Do you think I do that with just anyone?"

"Well- I don't know, I mean- I don't know what your other friendsh-"

"I don't. You're the only one that gets to see me like this. You're the only one I treat like this. You're the only one I want to treat like this. I like you. And I want to be with you. And that's why I was upset. Because when I thought you were with someone else, it made me feel as if you didn't want the same thing as me."

Before you got the chance to even begin to process, Yoongi catches himself and feels the need to justify: "Obviously if you don't feel the same then I won't like, lash out at you or anything, it'll hurt but I don't want you to feel forced into something more with me than what we have now, it's just you asked me why I was upset and that was the only way I could explain it but I-"

"Yoongi." He's stopped by a soft tug to his shirt and the even softer sound of your voice.

You catch each other's eyes, the flickers of hope and longing between them, and the search of honesty.

"I feel the same."

A sigh leaves his lips and he breaks into a smile before picking you up in one motion and setting you on his lap so you're straddling him.

"Does this mean we're like, um- like,,,,"

"Like...?" His tone is teasing, and you know he knows what you mean.

"Like, y'know- like..."

"I actually don't know...."

"Yoongi." You huff out, your shyness getting the best of you.

"Yes?" His tone is smug, making you groan into his chest.

Working off of pure adrenaline, you mumble quietly: "Like, together."

"What was that doll?" You could practically hear the smirk on his face, making you try and shuffle away from him, but Yoongi's quicker, pulling you back into him with a giggle.

"If you're asking if we're officially dating, then don't even question it baby." He's still laughing, but his tone is firmer this time.

"So I'm taking that as a yes?"

"Fuck yes."

You burst out laughing at his response, and soon enough you've both fallen into a fit of giggles, as well as back into the bed, with you on top of Yoongi, before he flips you over so he's hovering over you.

"Y/N."

"Yoongi?"

"Can I kiss you?"

End.

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wordsinhaled · 4 months ago

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transmasc haircut woes ahead...

so i was growing out my hair again but it is starting to become annoying/a sensory nightmare this summer/doesn't feel like me/kinda gives me some dysphoria.

so i wanna give it the chop (again).

but the thing is i am. like. very intimidated by barber shops??? i live in a significantly queerer and more progressive city now than i used to which helps. but i'm still a tiny 4'10 pre-T transmasc person and i do not feel like i look like someone who "belongs" in a barber shop, if there is such a thing (i'm sure there isn't but the anxiety tells me there is).

i am sure i am overthinking it but being in like... a Designated Male Space feels quite scary. i struggle to even walk past florsheim's in the mall or have other men see me in the men's section of stores, if that gives you context on how scary all of this is for me. i have no idea what i think is gonna happen if i walk in there - like, anxiety brain says i'm gonna be gatekept out, people are gonna be like, "what are you doing here?" or "you're not masc enough to be in here," or whatever, i have LITERALLY no idea - and i'm sure i'm making a mountain out of a molehill and no one will actually be mean to me or bully me in a barber shop!

but the thing is i have like, no idea what goes on in there? and that's part of the anxiety, i guess. mind you, i know queer cis women go and get their hair cut in barber shops as well, so i guess... i also don't want to be read as that either?

i have gotten my hair cut before by a male hairdresser at a hair salon and it was a person my parents picked, a hair style my mom picked, and then he would dye my hair a Different Shade of Brown and my mom would give me frosted highlights or whatever at home, because she told me my natural hair color was boring and lacked depth. i had more or less zero control over the experience in terms of what i came out looking like. i was like... 23, 24 when this was still happening.

at one point, she took me to a consultation to get my hair chemically straightened (keratin, i think it was going to be) which would have gotten rid of my natural wavy texture, because i was "too lazy to put in the work" to do anything with my hair (because i wanted it to be short, most of the time, if anyone asked me). that was like, the one thing i brought myself to be able to say no to because. i didn't want to do that.

it took a while for my hair not to be processed to shit and to grow back in nice. but i fucking LOVE my natural hair color and texture and volume actually, it's beautiful, in my opinion, if i do say so myself. it's a lovely shade of brown and it's got amber/chestnut highlights in it in the sunshine and it has nice texture and it's soft. come pet my hair, basically.

anyway, sorry for the detour about Hair Styling Trauma but maybe this will help explain why the fuck i feel like i can't go and just Get My Hair Cut. lol, gotta love finally getting out from under the thumb of a narcissist and still having Shit Going On years later.

even up until the most recent time my hair was short, i have been going to hair salons (not barber shops) and i have been in that weird limbo of "girl asking for pixie cut," which is NOT the experience i want this time. every hairdresser i've ever had is always like, are you sure you want it this short? the last person who cut my hair was a pretty chill italian guy (like, came recently from italy, spoke italian in his shop, not like long-time italian-american type italian) who felt... probably the safest i've found because he was sort of relaxed about the whole thing and didn't get weird about it. but even with him, as close as i managed to verbalize what i want was to ask for something "gender neutral" because it felt like. incredibly scary to be like, "i do not want to look like girl. please do not make me look like girl."

he understood the assignment and is probably the one who would give me the best haircuts i've had. but even then it still sort of felt like i was... asking for it in a sort of weird adjacent-to-what-i-really-meant way and getting there by sheer coincidence of a person understanding the assignment vs like. please make me look more like boy. am not girl trying to look like boy. am not edgy girl with pixie cut. you feel me???

edit: also. i don't think that hair is inherently gendered one way or another, it's just like... the way that people tend to gender the process/different types and styles of hair that makes me uncomfortable and makes me feel misgendered. and like the perceptions of you that people have. and that a lot of the vibe is going to depend on how whatever individual haircut works with my face. and that when i go on T these things may also change. so i'm not trying to like... binary the hair but also... it's the dysphoria of how people talk to you/look at you/etc. at personal care places, you know?

i don't even necessarily want something with zero length, because my hair tends to look good when there's something there to style, but i just ... i don't want a Women's Short Haircut, you know??? at the same time i know that i have a Lot of Hair and people have fucked up my short haircuts before so i don't want a Bad Haircut either. i don't feel like i can do the same shit i always do again where i come in and sit there silently and slightly embarrassedly while i secretly hack my way into gender euphoria while the person thinks they're cutting a girl's hair.

anyway, what the fuck do i do and how do i not feel like dysphoria central during this whole process? what is a barber shop like? what do people talk about in there? can i just be quiet? is everything going to clock that i have not socialized with men like ever but want to? idk, do i lead with being transmasc? do i just bring sample photos of men's haircuts only and have a conversation about how they will work with my face shape? do i just say i am trying to look Not Like a Girl? that seems. incredibly terrifying. i would bring a queer friend to chill me out, but i haven't made any here yet to be able to bring.

asdjdjfj if u have read this far thank you and sorry for being a hot mess !!!

#transblr #uhhh how else do i even tag this #personal

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avpdvoidspace · 4 months ago

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Since you've mentioned a couple of times having comorbid OCPD, would you mind explaining more about the effect that disorder has on you? Out of every PD, it's the one I never find people talking about. Due to that, and the diagnostic criteria itself being (as ever) exasperatingly superficial and vague, It's hard to know where to even look for information about it..!

Sure. I agree that it's very difficult to find information about ocpd online. I guess I could categorize my experience with ocpd into three categories: things that are absolutely recognized symptoms of ocpd, things that overlap with other obsessive compulsive spectrum disorders (like things more traditionally thought of as OCD symptoms), and things that I have to assume come from ocpd because they seem to but I don't know if they're universal because I don't see other people talking about having ocpd. So in terms of things that are definitely ocpd experiences: I really don't feel safe or comfortable in situations I don't have at least some control over. I need to control my space, my food, who is around me, etc to feel safe. This also applies to my time and schedule. I get very agitated when it's interrupted, even if I don't show it. I tend to plan my day's activities pretty rigidly and it stresses me out when I'm not able to follow through. I also have very rigid ways I like to do things, and it stresses me out if I have to do something with someone else's method or if someone in my apartment does something differently to how I would do it, especially things like eating without washing hands first, not taking shoes off before coming in, etc. I try to keep this kind of thing in check because I don't want to be controlling or obnoxious, but it causes me a lot of stress internally. This has been very difficult when I've had a job and I'm being told to do things a particular way but it's not MY way. It's also difficult when I'm intentionally trying to push myself to try a different method for, say, drawing something. Even though I'm making the choice, I'm breaking my method and it feels extremely Wrong. The next category is overlap with other obsessive compulsive spectrum disorders. I definitely get intrusive thoughts and the anxiety inducing spiral of 'something bad will happen if I don't have the tv volume set to an odd number' and 'I feel compelled to make sure my foot touches to the floor in a very certain way right now for Reasons'. I also have health anxiety that gets worse if I try to engage in reassurance seeking behavior (but this only started after I got diagnosed with a chronic illness, so it could be a combination of ocpd and trauma). But you can apply the mechanics of health anxiety to other things that pop into my head to frighten me with no basis in reality that start the reassurance seeking/me becoming more convinced the terrible thing is true cycle. Then the third category, which is random things I think are ocpd but who knows because there aren't a lot of other people out there talking about their personal experiences with it: I like recording things. Every day, I write the weather conditions down in a notebook. I also have very rigid records of my drawing time and draw with a stopwatch going to make sure I'm keeping track and write everything in a notepad++ file like so

I get extremely stressed out if anything gets in the way of this process! You could say my life kind of revolves around this actually. I've actually drawn at least an hour a day for about a decade (knock on wood...), and I track it every day. In general, I have a lot of fun creating methods and systems to follow rigidly. It's like a game even. Maybe why I like playing games with a lot of organization/time management... Love giving myself a list of tasks and completing them. Speaking of games, I love Pokemon Legends Arceus because it is essentially a checklist simulator. Also, I experience something similar to special interests but maybe not exactly the same. I wouldn't say hyperfixations either because they're not fleeting. They're very enduring. I wish I could explain more about how they're unique from either special interests (in the autistic meaning of the phrase) and hyperfixations (like with ADHD), but it's kind of hard to explain without feeling like I'm explaining it poorly. And last, something that could go in either this category or the second because it's something I've heard people diagnosed with OCD talk about experiencing is I have a weird thing with my memory where my visual/auditory memory are weirdly strongly connected. So if I'm listening to something while drawing, if I listen to it again, I can 'see' what I was drawing at the time. If I look at the drawing, I'll remember the part of the audiobook or whatever I was listening to. It's to the point that if I was listening to an audiobook while playing a certain video game, hearing the audiobook again will make me crave playing the video game really intensely! It's like I can see exactly where I was in the game as if I was playing it right now. Anyway, I hope that was helpful. I tried to include everything I could think of. My life is very rigid, but I guess if there's one more thing I could say about that, it's that the rigidity excites me and feels like it lights up my brain with feel-good chemicals. I think having ocpd is like a combination of extreme anxiety and the ability to create fun engaging activities all by myself and with very few resources.

#ocpd #obsessive compulsive personality disorder

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 4 months ago

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Wanted to go anon but I asked in DMs if I could vent so hopefully this’ll make me feel better:

A lot of times I feel Christianity is causing me more harm than good. I grew up in the Baptist south and I see Christians so happy with God and their blessings. And while I acknowledge my blessings and thank God for them I don’t think I feel the same kind of joy everyone else does. I went to a revival at my aunt’s church last October and came out of it with horrible anxiety that lasted for months. Even as people talked about God’s love and mercy and second chances I left without feeling that love, I was scared and it felt like I wasn’t a good Christian and that when I was saved years ago no longer counted. Any time I see someone talk about spreading the Gospel I feel low and awful cause no one has come to me and told me they’re Christian now and why should God let me into Heaven if I can’t do that?

I recently discover scrupulosity and I’m 90% that’s what I have. It was a relief to know (even if I can’t always believe it) it’s ocd making me feel this way and not God. But how I can I find comfort in the faith when that is where my anxiety stems from?

Hey there. My heart aches for you and the harm Christianity has brought you. When faith is done right, it should be a place of support, a place you feel encouraged towards growth and vulnerability. Instead, it sounds like you've been taught fear — that you're not "good enough" for God or heaven; that not feeling what everyone else seems to be feeling is a failing on your part.

You deserve so much better, and it's not your fault that this is the Christianity you've been put through.

I want to start by saying that what you're feeling, or what you don't feel, does not make you a "bad Christian"; it's not a sign of God's disfavor; and it absolutely does not bar you from heaven!

It's such an alienating feeling to be surrounded by people who seem to be experiencing something you just can't seem to access. It reminds me of Psalm 42, where the psalmist wrestles with their depression and anxiety:

But I remember these things as I bare my soul: how I made my way to the mighty one’s abode, to God’s own house, with joyous shouts and thanksgiving songs— a huge crowd celebrating the festival! Why, I ask myself, are you so depressed? Why are you so upset inside? Hope in God! Because I will again give him thanks, my saving presence and my God. (Psalm 42:4-5)

In the above verses, the psalmist visits God's Temple, is surrounded by people shouting joyfully...and all they seem to feel is that soul-deep depression. They also wonder, "What's wrong with me??" The hope they find even in this fretting about their inability to feel the joy everyone else is, is the hope that there will be a future time when they will once again feel the gratitude and joy they can't access right now.

What will it take, what does this psalmist need, in order to work through their depression and into joy? ...What do you need?

One thing I highly recommend, if at all possible, is finding a therapist who can help you through your religious hurt and help you navigate scrupulosity.

Look for therapists who specialize in religious trauma, or scrupulosity, or "deconstructing" faith, or working with "ex-vangelicals."

In your consult with them, make sure they are, like, not part of a conservative Christian church themselves and actually aim to keep patients in such spaces; make sure they are there to help you find spiritual wellbeing, wherever that journey takes you. Asking about their view on LGBTQ+ persons might be one way to determine their overall aims.

I'm by no means a mental health professional; I'm not an expert in scrupulosity and I don't know best practice for working through religious trauma when scrupulosity is part of your experience. So please take everything that comes next in this post with a huge grain of salt, that I'm offering what I've seen work for some people, but that doesn't mean it's the right thing for you. Getting that professional support is much more ideal.

Along with professional support, I do feel that a break from Christianity, or at least the Christian spaces you are currently part of, may give you the space to work through everything.

However, if not going to church will impact your scrupulosity or activate fears about hell, prepare some options in advance for dealing with that — whether it's having someone you trust you can talk to, or setting up your own Sunday worship, a space and time where you pray, read scripture, etc. at home.

If you feel that even those preparations won't be enough to keep safe from those fears, you might wait till you get a therapist who can help you navigate whatever comes up when you leave church.

You could also start looking around for different kinds of churches than you've currently experienced, churches that make space for depression and fear, and that emphasize that God's love is freely given, not earned. This is my post with tips for finding an affirming church near you. But I want to emphasize that it's okay if you aren't ready to start looking for a new church, or if you're unsure you ever want to do that.

Finding people who are going through similar things could be very helpful — people who get it, who can share their stories with you as you share yours with them.

A progressive church might be a place you can find that support.

It's also possible that LGBTQ orgs in your area might offer resources for those with religious trauma.

There are also online options, such as Journey Free, which offers both free and paid support — including online support groups.

Recovering from Religion is another site with support group options, online and in person (note: I'm not that familiar with this org, so if anyone has experience with them please share).

If you're a reader, two books I think might bring you some healing and reframe your relationship with faith are:

Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor, which explores a Christian faith that has room for depression, grief, fear, pain, rather than pressuring everyone to Be Happy All The Time to "prove" they're blessed. (I have a tag with a few excerpts from this book)

Bad Theology Kills by Kevin Garcia, which unpacks a lot of the harmful stuff Christians in evangelical / fundamentalist type churches internalize.

You might also find some useful stuff on my FAQ, particularly the "emotions and sins: guilt and fear, anger and hate" section and the "on God" and "prayer and faith" sections.

I'm not sure how helpful all this was, but I want you to know that you are worthy of spiritual thriving, of finding places that bring you peace and joy rather than fear and isolation. I'll be praying for you as you unpack what you've been through and where you need to go to find that thriving. The journey will probably be long and bumpy, but you do not have to go it alone. <3

#church hurt #religious trauma #if anyone else has encouragement for anon #or suggestions for where to go to find support #please do share <3

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themoonsbride · 2 years ago

Text

She's Mine, You Stay Away From Her .

pairing; Peter Ballard x Fem!Reader

summary; Reader is basically in Elevens spot like in the episodes leading up to 7; The Massacre at Hawkins Lab in season 4

warnings; swearing, descriptions of - Murder, insanity, hatred, being shocked, anxiety, isolation. Peter himself is considered a warning for this fic.

a/n; I've spent forever working on this agh!!! it's been taking up my time of working on other requests </3 but I got the inspiration of this fic based of an edit I saw of Peter to this song! I also just really wanted to write him to a Pierce The Veil song because they're my favorite band :) (HOPING THIS DOESNT FLOP HHJ)

word count; 5.1k

--×♥︎×--

The lingering quietness was always off putting inside of Hawkins Labrotory. It always made you feel uneasy. The fact that you were forced to live and work here everyday for most likely the rest of your life was uneasy.

But there was nothing that could be done, Martin Brenner was a dangerously powerful man who ruled over everybody that was within the walls of his facility.

And it was clear to you that he had not a single silver of an amount for care for the humans inside of his building either. If he did, he wouldn't be scientifically experimenting on children to give them different forms of physiological powers. It was inhuman to do this to undeveloped brains of practically toddlers.

And you having to watch and document it happen every single day was picking away at your sanity piece by piece. What you would do if you could've had the power the children withheld.

You would take matters into your own hands and put an end to all of this insanity that went on, put an end to the man behind the madness.

You weren't sure if you were losing your sanity, or if it was already lost. But you would do anything to break free of this hell, Martin seemed to be Satan himself when someone did something he didn't like, if they even breathed the wrong way, his wrath would come their way and would last for longer than you'd prefer to admit.

But you weren't the only one who seemed to grow this type of hatred for a place like this, no. There was another, And though you'd never been directly told you weren't the only one, you could tell. It was obvious in your eyes.

He seemed to be Brenners favorite, and also his most hated worker, And his name is Peter Ballard. A man with the facial features made of pure beauty like a God.

He isolated from others, as they were uninterested in him and often spat shit at him, infront of him and behind his back and you'd heard it all. Some of the pesky rumors that went around about that gorgeous man seemed so ridiculous a fucking 4th grader could've came up with better.

You were both just looking at eachother, the tension wasn't awkward between the two of you, she was nervous to be standing before you, you towered over her.

She probably would have started to sweat thick bullets if it weren't constantly fucking cold. Which surprisingly didn't constantly get the children sick, maybe them having humanly impossible powers strengthened their immune system to the point they don't get sick anymore.

It wouldn't suprise you if that were true, nothing was surprising anymore unless Brenner left you off with a warning and not 3 hours of you getting shocked to the point your nerves went numb and you felt like you were about to take your last fucking breathe.

"play." Eleven mumbled out and lightly tugged on the hem of your skirt. you raised a brow at her, your face felt blank, and numb, you felt numb inside too.

"play what." your voice was clear and ferm, your remember how your mother used to tell you when you were a teenager that she loved the femininity in your voice, it made you sound more professional.

The image of your mother's face in your head made you feel a certain way, a feeling that had felt lost for a long time, like it was hidden deep and burrowed inside you.

"puzzle." Eleven spoke, bringing you back to the reality you lived in today. the dreadful reality you lived in.

"okay." her small fingers wrapped around your index one, guiding you towards a small table, leaving you next to one of the chairs, you sat down feeling somewhat hesitant. You didn't understand, why now? why would Eleven now be talking to you?

Maybe it was something under the control of Peter, or Brenner, maybe either of them convinced her to talk to you, to get you to like her and use her as a weakness towards you. You didn't trust anyone anymore, the first look you took inside this building, you knew you were fucked.

Eleven sat across from you and placed a tiger children's puzzle onto the table, opening the box carefully. Everything felt off, You'd never spoken to Peter before, but you didn't need too, you already knew he hated this facility as much if not more than you did.

But you did supervise the rainbow room together, You were never a fan of the room, infact you seemed to have a weird sense of hatred for it, the way the room was displayed.

Maybe it was those muted rainbows on the wall and flooring. Or all the toys that surrounded them to make it seem like they were cared for, when in reality it was most likely to keep them distracted from the mortifying reality around them.

The somewhat nice part about that room was the children mostly placed nicely with one another, the youngest would play with wooden building blocks or solve animal puzzles. There were only around 4 of the children that were in their tweens..

It was 002 and his gang, God you fucking hated 002 and his devious little followers. All they did was bother one of the subjects, and specifically one, her name was Eleven.

She never caused trouble, because she was too afraid. She feared everybody, and she was only a little bit older than the youngest ones. She was 8 years old, the younger ones were more around 5-6.

She was especially scared of the workers, but she liked to play around with the puzzles and challenge herself to see if she could solve them, she also seemed to be observant.

She seemed to take interest in you, often you would catch her looking over at you, but you'd never thought anything of it, mainly because you couldn't care enough.

But today was different, because this time instead of the small girl just eagerly staring at you, she ended up walking her walk over towards you. You tried not to show the suprise on your face, you saw Peter watching her as if he were a hawk and she was a meek prey from the corner of your eye.

Her shaved head looked up at your eyes, You assumed she wanted to talk to you, but since she was 8, and no one cared to teach these beings anything else other than how to enhance their powers, they most likely didn't understand how to form full sentences from what you've seen and heard.

You looked around the room carefully without trying to move your head much, you started inspecting the rest of the ominously quiet room. The children were usual to minding their business.

You brought your gaze to the blonde man who kept to himself, and noticed he couldn't seem to keep his own gaze off of you.

'..Weird.'

You looked back over at Eleven and found her struggling to fit a puzzle piece to connect with another, though it was the wrong piece. You carefully took the small cardboard photo from her tiny fingers and placed it in the spot, she just stared at you, like she were embarrassed.

You weren't really sure what you were supposed to do or say now, you sort of just awkwardly smiled, it was too quiet for you to speak, your sanity didn't want you to crack somehow by simply speaking to an 8 year old.

She sort of just awkwardly looked away from you like she felt shy or wanted to speak, but obviously as noted before, she doesn't really understand how. Which is expected.

She instead just went back to figuring out how to member the tiger into a normal photo once more. You observed her movements closely, usually when she would think very critically of her next move she'd place her small index finger onto her chin or lower lip.

Every now and again she had to look up in your direction, as her way of saying "help" or "can't figure it out" and you wordlessly helped her and pieced the correct parts together. She'd finished her puzzle just as Brenner had entered the room.

"Goodmorning Children." And there she was to get quick on her feet and in her spot where she always stood in union with the rest of her "siblings."

You were meant to stand as well and did so, you watched all of them follow out behind Brenner and were fast to break the puzzle and place it back inside its box and onto the shelf where it was kept.

When you turned again, Peter was still stood in that spot next to the door, you knew he was watching you, and as much as it would've put anyone else on edge, it didn't for you. You were constantly being watched by your every move in your life now, so it seemed like nothing new.

--×♥︎×--

It was now your break, taking your time into the breakroom, it was like any other room. Only with a fridge and a counter top inside of it with a coffee machine. The coffee was rancid, tasted horrid.

The taste of the dirt water reminded you of when your father forced you into summer camp, when he first told you he had signed you up, you were extremely pissed.

"I'm am not going daddy! I do not want to go to summer camp! I'd rather be home!"

You would whine and complain to him, but there was nothing to be done, he already signed the paperwork and handed over the cash.

And when you had gone, it was more fun than you had expected. You went inside of a swamp and a creek, and went fishing, did tie die and collected rocks and small insects. You'd even found a snapping turtle once.

Remembering the times of your early teenage years and how you'd been happy made you feel a sense of grief, and also anger. With yourself and the world around you.

You pushed through the double doors of the breakroom, grabbing water from the half broken refrigerator and sat down by yourself, alone.

You were always alone, even when there were others around you, you were alone. No one seemed to take interest in you, not like you'd wanted them to anymore at this point.

Even if you could see through that perfectly physical man with those deep blue eyes, you were still alone. you always were since birth. Barely ever had many friends, always the targeted girl when it came to kids who had troubles in their own lives and had the shit audacity to take it out on you.

What you would've given to get your revenge on those little fucks at the time you were dealing with them.

What you would give to get your revenge on Brenner and all the shit he's dumped onto you and the rest of the people who were imprisoned here.

Your train of thought about you getting your pay back was interrupted by the sound of the doors opening again. You didn't want to make it noticeable that you were checking who was entering, But you weren't too shocked to see it was Peter.

You stared at the bottle of water that was held in your hands, small beads of sweat forming on the plastic and making your hands moist.

The sound of coffee pouring from the dispenser of the machine filled the room, no matter how similar you could tell you were to others, you never understood the trouble they would put themselves through of drinking the mud water that was labeled as "coffee" in this building.

what's something that was a shock to you about the man was that he'd sat across from you, he never interacted with you before and now he's suddenly across from you, you could feel him staring again.

It was like Lazer beams burning through metal. You'd felt that same feeling with Brenner multiple times before, it was an anxiety inducing feeling.

It reminded you of how he'd lecture and yell at you for the littlest of actions, like giving one of the children candy or something else that doesn't even matter.

And then when you would refuse to look at him because you didn't want to see that familiar cold glare that would send shrieks of fear throughout your entire being he'd send you to the punishment room.

Your skin began to form goosebumps at the memory of your entire body going numb and not being able to feel anything and your throat constantly hoarse and sore from that fucking collar he'd put on you like you were some dog.

Your skin felt itself getting warmer like your blood was boiling with rage from all your mistreatment and how you could do absolutely nothing about what you've gone through.

You shook your thoughts away, not wanting to physically remember what it felt like to wear that collar or feel those metal rods connect with your skin.

"Eleven seemed to take an interest in you today." His voice broke the imagery of your memories and your eyes automatically looked into his, they weren't cold like Brenners, they were light, and reminded you of clear skies during the summer that you used to take in while you'd make castles at the beach when you were a child, or would learn to ride your bike as your mother helped guide you in the spring, how you'd ride around your neighborhood as a teenager and would embrace the warm air and beautiful sky.

"Yeah, I suppose she did." Your voice was flat, but it wasn't cold, or mean, but it also didn't sound normal, but what would he know anyway? he's never even spoken to you before.

"She usually doesn't do that with the orderly." He clearly wanted to talk to you about something and it wasn't Eleven, but you weren't sure if you should just go along with it, or tell him to get on with the point already.

"She usually isn't like that with anyone." you remarked, there was a slight snark in your tone, you didn't really want to come off as snarky, but who wouldn't after all the shit that goes on in this place?

"So I've noticed" He didn't sound mad, and he still hadn't taken his eyes off you the entire time, it was a little uncomfortable how good he was at holding eye contact, but maybe that's what the point of making it so strong, was to make the other uncomfortable.

Or maybe it could've been unintentional, it was clear why it was one of the reasons your coworkers commented it on it and called him 'weird' or 'creepy.'

It didn't make you as uncomfortable as it would've others, it was normal to feel that way in Hawkins Labrotory. But when it was Peter who was making this strong of eye contact, it didn't seem that uncomfortable anymore. His eyes were so angelic and his hair seemed perfect in the horrible light, almost like there was a halo around his head.

It felt almost like you were losing yourself in him, like the way you'd lose yourself in the pages of a book, or a masterpiece of a drawing that someone would spend day and night on.

Maybe because in your eyes, he was like a masterpiece drawing, he was beautiful.

The both of you were just glaring at eachother now. It wasn't awkward, it only would've been if you told yourself it was. You learned a long time ago about how it worked that way, your mother had told you.

"That was so awkward.." You spoke quietly, walking out of the doctors office with your mother.

"It was only awkward because you had told yourself it was." She replied, walking to the car that your father was waiting in.

"What do you mean?" You looked up at her as she suddenly stopped in her movements and looked down at your 13 year old self.

"It was only awkward, because you told yourself the tension and the interaction was awkward." You were still confused.

"If you don't tell yourself when something is awkward, you won't feel so anxious or uncomfortable anymore." And then she continued back in her tracks.

you were only 13, so you still didn't understand what the hell she was talking about, and even now you didn't really understand. She'd worded it in a way were it sounded like she thought awkwardness was just an illusion of the human mind.

Sometimes your mother would be very smart with her words or explanations, and others it seemed like she just didn't care enough to hear you talk about how you felt, or she just wasn't sure how to explain something to you.

It was now that you realized that you still didn't respond, assuming that's what he was waiting for, there weren't any words that were forming out of your throat, and lunch was about to end anyways so you just stood to your feet.

"Lunch is about to end, maybe I'll see you tomorrow." You spoke quickly before exiting, he was watching you the entire time, of course.

--×♥︎×--

It was now Training of the next day, the children were lined up against the wall whilst they waited for their turn to use their powers on a ring a bulbs that was implanted in the floor infront of a metal chair.

It was currently 002's turn to attempt to light the glass bulbs, You walked up and placed the headset onto his buzzed scalp.

You felt your skin grow warm with how close in contact you were with him as a visous anger grew deeper in you for him. And for a split second, you were thinking of what it would've looked like if you killed him right then infront of everyone.

When you finished placing the wiring on his head you quickly walked away back in your spot at the corner of the room, clamping your hands behind yourself as usual.

You glanced over at Peter, and he was quick to look back over at you, but it wasn't like he darted his head over at you, it was slow and calm. Maybe that's what was off-putting about him that people didn't seem to like.

It was sort of assuring to see him be slow and calm, almost like he was tired, or maybe just burnt out, whether it was mentally or physically you didn't know, but it was sticking out to you.

He was good at masking how tense he was and how much he hated everyone here, as were you. Maybe he could see through you too and that's why he had spoken to you yesterday.

He seemed to take a liking in Eleven though, he was sitting next to her and talking to her a few days before she'd spoken to you, which is why you were curious as to whether if it were his doing or not.

Brenner had forced Eleven to go next by brainwashing her with a piece of fucking candy. A piece of candy she clearly could've cares less for, she was so obviously scared and uncomfortable. Her powers weren't as strong as the rest of her siblings.

Peter had went up and placed a headset on her stubble hair, unnecessarily fixing the front of her headset. He'd whispered something to her, why would he have done so right infront of everyone in the room? infront of Brenner? He was practically asking for the punishment room, but why would you care? it wasn't you who would be tortured later on.

It was her who had you do that stupid puzzle with her, you weren't the one who came up to her asking to solve a puzzle, she just up and decided randomly to ask you to solve one with her. after almost 2 weeks of her just eye-balling you.

--×♥︎×--

It was now a week later, and todays training was different from anything else they've done before, Peter's been interacting with Eleven more, and it's quite strange.

Regardless of all the rumors of how strange he is, this was one of things you did find weird, why has he started randomly started interacting with her? What was he telling her?

Brenner proceeded to draw 2 circles with white chalk onto the lominum floor as he spoke.

"For today's lesson, we are going to play a game." His voice was mutated to sound kind with a plastic smile on his face. It was a relief that these children didn't understand how powerful and cruel he truly was, but it was also so fucked in the head that he would do this to any of them and act like some big teddy bear and like this was okay.

It wasn't, obviously. But it just pissed you off so much, and it only made things worse when you'd remind yourself there was nothing you could do about it. It started to feel like every passing day it felt more and more like you were living in an insane asylum.

You used to think about escaping from time to time, but now you full on fucking fantazied it. you truly were starting to go insane, who wouldn't though.

002 was beating all of his opponents, and then it was Elevens turn, and when Peter finished tying on her blindfold, he wasn't very quiet to whisper "Good Luck" in her ear.

This started to seem tedious to you, what the fuck is he telling her? what if he's attempting to brainwash her just like Brenner? Though you told yourself multiple times you could've given less of a shit about these kids, there was a part of you that felt protective over Eleven.

Almost maybe like a motherly kind of protection? Though it wouldn't matter, there's nothing you can protect her from because both of you live in danger. She just isn't aware of it.

To your suprise, Eleven beat 2, she had slammed his body against the mirror behind him, leaving it cracked, he was shaking and looked at her with fear But he'd get his revenge soon, and you were sure of it, whether or not he'd be successful in getting away with it was yet a mystery. Because he's gotten away with it before, you've seen it yourself.

You could still remember it like it were yesterday, when you had to monitor the cameras.

"You're weak, and useless. You don't deserve to have the place as papa's favorite.." His voice was hushed and filled with rage.

"I-im sorry.." Eleven was so young at the time, her lip was trembling and tears were forming in her waterline.

"I'm gonna hurt you, for having what I dont.."

"please d-don-" But before she could even beg him further to spare her, she was already being pushed around the room, into tables and on the floor.

And then they left her there, crying.

Why they were all in there? was never answered, but she shouldn't have been in there by herself with 002 in the same building as her.

But the small amount of guilt you felt for her on that day still lingers. 002 stumbled to his feet and sat with the other children.

"It looks like we have a new winner." Brenner spoke, Eleven seemed shocked and nervous at the same time, but at this point it seemed like nervous was just a normal feeling and vibe to get from her.

--×♥︎×--

You were back inside the breakroom now. Holding a bottle of water you most likely weren't going to drink. And Peter entered the room too, but this time was different.

"Miss L/n, may I speak to you, alone?" His tone sounded pleadful and curious.

"We are alone." You answered firmly, but he didn't respond he just continued to stare at you, and then that's when you glared at the camera in the corner of the room and sighed to yourself.

Standing to your feet and walking over to him, you didn't trust him or his motives regardless of seeing his feelings. it was how everyone felt about this place.

He took you inside of a small broom closet that seemed like it was never entered anymore, he closed the door behind himself and you just stood there.

He faced you and smiled lightly at you, but you were careful go examine him.

Your grandmother always told you to keep your head up and seem serious, men would take you seriously, especially if you'd show you didn't have a care for them.

And throughout your life, it mostly worked, but Peter was already here when you came here 2 years ago, so he probably would be smarter than that.

"How would you like to escape with Eleven and i?" His tone was excited but quiet.

"What?" You were in pure shock and weren't even sure if you heard him correctly, but you did your best to keep a straight face.

"I've been speaking with Eleven"

"I've noticed that." You kept your voice ferm and serious, you didn't want to agree with him, maybe if you kept this conversation with him, you'd be able to seek through his true intentions.

"And I've told her about how she deserves to escape this horrible place."

"Are you fucking insane?" You blurted out, you didn't mean too, it was just the first thing that came to mind.

Was he fucking insane? what the hell was he doing tell an 8 year old to escape the place she's lived in and only knows as good? what else has he told her?

He completely disregarded the question, which was appreciated on your end.

"I've got a plan set out for her and I, and I know you hate it here, Y/n."

"You don't know shit." So maybe he could see through you too, but this couldve still be a trap regardless, a trap to get you into trouble or become his little minion and do whatever he wants you too.

"Don't I? I've seen the way you've glared at Brenner and 002."

"You look at them the same way, It's not just them either, don't think I didn't know you couldn't keep your eyes off me either Ballard." You felt someone outraged that he would just randomly propose this to you, he didn't even know you. Maybe he didn't have too, though.

"The same goes for you, are you going to join us, or no." His voice sounded serious now, and after a few moments of just staring at him, you could sense this man was infact serious.

"..When is this happening exactly?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" You looked at him like he had actually lost his mind, and maybe he did, but whats so wrong with that?

It's not like you had your sanity in tact with you anymore either, so if he's crazy then you can be crazy together surely.

"Are you joining us, yes. or no?"

"..Yes."

Part of you was mentally cursing yourself out for agreeing, you still didn't trust him, fuck no. But at least you just got a free get out of jail ticket so.

--×♥︎×--

You felt anxious in the rainbow room, Peter was nowhere to be seen all day, and you felt hazy, your vision felt blurry and eyes sore, but from crying.

Your breathing was shaking and so where your hands, you hadn't gotten anxiety since your freshmen year of collage.

You remembered the uncontrollable fear that was tensing throughout your veins, you used to get that same feeling when Brenner would have his gaurds shock you until he felt as though you'd had enough.

When you were barely breathing and laying on the floor like an injured kitten inside of a box that no one cared for.

Eleven was at a coloring station, she checked the clock and then stood to her feet, making her way towards an orderly and leaving with him.

You soon exited the room aswell, going down into the basement where Peter had instructed you to meet him.

'I'm going to be free, I'm going to be free. I want to get revenge, I want my revenge. I want Brenner to feel the pain he caused me.' Your mind raced as you walked down those steps and soon saw Peter waiting for you.

'I want him dead.'

"Hey." You spoke, walking up to him

"Hello, Eleven will be here soon." You didn't respond after that, instead just leaned against the wall next to him, picking at your fingers.

Soon Elevens small body was heading down the stairs, you stood up straight as she looked for the both of you, bumping into Peter.

"Shh, follow me." And then the both of you were following after him as he took the both of you over to a small drain, atleast, that's what it had looked like anyways.

He was able to convince the small girl to escape through the pipes, explaining how they worked.

"They lead out into the woods, when you get out of here you need to run, do you understand me?" She seemed extremely scared and shook her head no.

"What about you.. and Miss L/n?" Her voice was shakey, like she didn't want to leave him, gosh what kind of things did they have going on? what was he telling her before?

"Well be following you shortly after you escape, I promise. we promise."

Eleven looked over at you to confirm his promise, and you simply nodded your head, and she was quick to squeeze herself into that tunnel.

The both of you rose to your normal height, and he smiled at you.

"How are we getting out of here now?" You asked him. there was boredom in your voice, but that was just natural now, when in reality your anxiety was bolting throughout you.

"I'll show you, it'll be fun." He smirked and grabbed your hand, running out of the basement with you, and once you two exited, the alarms were already blarring, they must've discovered that Eleven was gone by now.

Everything was happening so quickly your brain didn't have much time to process what was going on, but the next thing you knew, Peter was slaughtering everyone in sight.

There was blood splattered all over the walls and floors, this answered your question.

"Are you fucking insane?"

Yes. this is his way of saying yes, Part of you felt absolutely terrified of him and wanted to run away, but there was another, stronger half of you that felt raged and viewed this as the both of you getting your revenge.

You didn't freak out, or runaway, or feel scared of him, because he let you do the honors of killing 002, and you made sure it was agonizingly slow and painful.

And then off you two went, escaping, running as fast as possible, feeling relief, and free. Feeling a smile that was stretched on your lips as you ran, feeling the wind all around your bodies and fresh air in your nostrils.

You were finally free at last.

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