𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦

i wanna be okay. | lee jeno

PAIRING: bodyguard!jeno x fem reader

GENRE: strangers-to-lovers, e2ls, SLOW BURN, celebrity! au, rich kid! au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WORD COUNT: 18.1k

NOTES: profanity, alcohol consumption, lots of arguing lol, somewhat heavy violence, blood, hospitals, injuries and im not a doctor so pls don’t come for me, flirting that kinda makes me wanna p*ke, slightly suggestive scenes, kissing

SUMMARY: the one where your rich CEO dad hires you a mysterious bodyguard to stay by your side 24/7. on the contrary, as much as jeno tries to stay away from you- it’s just utterly impossible.

authors note: wow. it’s finally done. akbskdjdks after so many months of hard work, i’ve finally finished and any feedback would be greatly appreciated <33 anyways, so much work and effort has been put into this, so i really hope anyone reading/waiting for this enjoys! thank you all- jae (also yes this is set near christmas time bc i was writing then and just only finished now :))

TAGLIST: @mrkcore @moonbeamsung @neonvision @sunzwoo @neocuddlytechnology @itsveronicaxxx @keemburley @rynshyuckies @neochaeryeong @terjeno @lighthyucks @blank-velvet @kaexloey @aedreamzy @kodasity @dnckfwk

The split second the door is opened for you to exit, the flashes start attacking you with bright and harsh lights, fighting alongside with strong and sturdy hands helping you out of the car. You won’t lie, it put you off a little. You were used to the cameras all your life, but especially today it seemed like the loud, intruding voices and crowded bodies actually made a dent in your hardened shell.

Nonetheless, the party was a success. The articles and pictures of you online were newsworthy (as per usual) even when the process of getting them was quite in contrast to what was actually put out to the public.

‘CEO of Meija Tech’s Daughter, y/n y/l/n, Makes Striking Appearance for the Opening…’

You sigh, scrolling past the articles and comments- the majority were commenting on the harsh conditions of the paparazzi at your entrance.

Ha, can’t they leave her alone for once?

They follow her everywhere… can’t they just let her walk where she wants?

I feel bad… she can’t even walk out of a car before getting mobbed…

Tch. The biggest company in the country can’t even afford bodyguards for the daughter of the CEO?

Enough. You turn your phone off with a sense of finality. You knew this was going to happen. As the years passed and your exposure to the outside public grew, it was inevitable that your life would be invaded by parasites that feed off you and your every move. You’re the host. And they’ll take anything.

The incoming sound of heels clicking against the hard marbled floor catches your attention. You glance up. Your father’s secretary stands with her hands on her hips. “Yes?” you question innocently.

“Your father wishes-“

You get up from your spot in the workers' lounge (as if you belonged there), not caring to hear the rest of her words. “Yeah, I got it.”

Now, the sounds of your heels clicking fill the hallways, people murmuring as you walk past with that air of superiority and your head held high. In reality, it was just the habit formed by countless lessons your father forced you to take beginning at the mere age of six. Not to forget the fact that you didn’t care to hear the people working under your father talk shit about you and the people you cared about.

Exiting the elevator, you’re surprised to see that there’s no one in your father’s office- besides himself, of course. You clasp your hands together.

“Father.” He tilts his head slightly in acknowledgment.

“Is there a reason you called me to your office at this time?” Your father clears his throat, and you know he’s being serious. Then again, when was he not?

“I’m sure you’ve seen the news articles.” Ah. That’s what it is.

He continues, “and I’ve been thinking for some time now…”

Your hands clasp tighter.

“Perhaps we should hire you a bodyguard. A strong and reliable one to stay by your side at all times to keep you safe.”

It sinks in, and you bristle. “Father!”

He shakes his head. “This is imperative now. Especially as your popularity continues to grow and it exposes you more and more to the outside world.”

“But I don’t want one?” you frown. “I think I’m perfectly fine. I feel content with how it is now.”

He sighs. “Your safety, my daughter.”

You cross your arms. “Yes, that’s true, but I really don’t believe I need to-“ He holds a hand up, and you fall silent. This is a one-sided argument.

“That’s all. You can leave now.”

You end up trudging out of his office towards the elevator with no destination in mind. Your mind flashes back. Is it really that bad to have a bodyguard? Why are you so hesitant about getting one?

You don’t actually know. Maybe it’s because you were scared. That’s all. Scared to acknowledge that you were already at that level of fame. It was really scary to face that fact. You, y/n, were at risk enough that you needed a bodyguard to protect you from things you didn’t want to happen. Things you really would want to imagine to either.

But who actually knows, right?

Four. That’s when you lost your mother and instead got raised by family caretakers while your father was busy running just one of the largest franchises in the world. Obviously, you didn’t have a family. Or friends. Or anyone, for that matter.

You suppose you should thank your father for the boarding school he sent you to at age thirteen. Most people would probably object and detest going with all their being, but you saw it as a chance to explore. Explore life past the strict rules, regulated behaviors, constant empty house, and everything that surrounded you.

And people you did meet. Mainly other rich (snotty) kids and teachers, it was a prestigious boarding school after all, but some of them you actually clicked with. And stayed with to this day.

“Minjeong!” You call out happily, running to meet your friend. It’s been almost a month since you last saw her, work being the main priority and barrier between the both of you.

She gives you a small hug, a smirk on her face. “Hey, daughter of CEO y/l/n, whose face is all over the news still.” You roll your eyes.

“Don’t remind me. I hate it.”

“But I like having a famous friend.”

You roll your eyes before abruptly standing up straighter. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Father plans on hiring me a bodyguard to accompany me the entire day, like a pet dog. I think it’s a bit much.”

“If I recall, that’s what a bodyguard does.” She then nods her head. “It makes sense, y/n. You need one.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re on his side?” Her eyes widen and you slump over. “Ugh, Minjeong, I really don’t know what to do. I just don’t want one. Not one bit.”

A hand comes to rest over yours. “Hey, I’m always on your side. That’s why I think having a bodyguard would be good. They’ll keep you safe, y/n,” she insists. “Just think about it. If you really don’t want one, maybe your father will reconsider it. Truly.”

It’s not likely.

But two weeks go on, and it seems like your father has forgotten about it. You feel a bit more relaxed now that it seems to have passed, and you enter the 20-story building that your father runs.

It’s going too well, to be honest. Enjoying a nice, steaming cup of coffee with the bright and sunny weather outside, it was bound to go downhill from here.

A familiar voice calls your name.

You raise an eyebrow. “Chaeryeong? Why are you up here?”

Your other close friend who also attended the same boarding school as you and Minjeong when you were younger, walks in. She decided to get a job at your father’s company just to start her off somewhere since her father and yours were business partners.

She puts a hand on her hip. “Haven’t you heard?” You pause mid-sip. “Huh? Heard what?”

“Lee Jeno’s here.”

You blink. “Who?”

She gets even closer to you, placing both of her hands on your shoulders with an astounded expression. “The bodyguard? Good looking? The kind where everyone is talking about him good-looking?” She emphasizes with wide eyes. You open your mouth but you don’t even know the next words that are about to come out. “I-wha-“ Quickly, you collect yourself, tucking a strand of hair behind you. “Why is he here?”

Minjeong bursts into the room with a wild look in her eyes, the door banging against the wall with a loud bam. Your heads whip towards the door.

“That attractive guy is your new bodyguard?!”

❀

“Father,” you pout, hands placed together as you try your best to work your way out of whatever this is.

“No.”

It feels as if a cold breeze blows past you, and you shiver. Sneakily from underneath your eyelashes, your eyes shift to the person sitting stiffly in front of you.

It’s been five minutes, so you quickly give up. Sighing, you cross your legs, and then your arms as if it would assert your dominance. “Alright, shall we head off?”

The figure says nothing, only imitating your actions as you get up and walk out of your father’s office.

“No funny business, daughter of mine,” yup father calls out with a stern expression.

You roll your eyes.

The sound of the elevator beeping as you go down the many floors of the building fills the air. Soon enough, you can’t stand the silence.

“Y/n y/l/n, but I’m sure you know that already. And you?”

This may be the first time he’s properly looked at you. He clasps his hand behind his back like a typical bodyguard and you observe him carefully.

“Lee Jeno,” he responds curtly.

Carefully, you make a note in your head. “How old are you?” You wait for about a minute before his response comes. “I don’t believe I am inclined to answer that.”

You tilt your head to the side, not paying any heed to what he just said. “2000, right? Nice to meet you,” you comment briefly. Jeno stares out the window with that stoic face of his.

The rest of the ride down is in silence.

Serious about his job, much?

The silence appears to be there for you to contemplate how the rest of your life is going to play out with this man at your side. Or…. perhaps he would get fed up with you. That would be funny, and sadly at this moment, a dream come true.

Jerk. Annoying, straight-faced asshole.

You continue writing furiously at your desk, the pen sounds scratching and stamping against the lined paper while the memory from earlier in the day replays in your head for the nth time.

You scoff, “Mr. Lee Jeno, it’s just a hangout, that’s all. Just my two friends and I. Why can’t you let me go? I don’t think you-“

He stands there with no expression. “Your father said you couldn’t go out past 11 pm, Miss, so I’m not letting you go out. Please get into the car.” You feel your face flush with anger.

“Who said you could command me like that? Huh?”

The air feels cold and hot at the same time. The only thing that cuts through your heated expressions is the lowering of the window by the driver.

“Miss y/l/n? Is everything alright?”

You unfreeze, immediately smiling towards the man. “Of course, mister.”

Jeno next to you quickly bows, voice void of emotion. “Yes, sir. I apologize. I believe Miss y/l/n left something inside the building but it’s too late to get it. We’ll get into the car now, I apologize once again for the inconvenience.”

You stand there for a second, too astounded to do anything except stare at the person dressed in all black in front of you.

The audacity of this man.

You barely make it into the car (or home for that matter), accompanied by a glare from jeno.

You groan loudly, head falling onto the table with a thud.

A face peeks into the room. Your grandma (who wasn’t your grandmother by blood but you still liked to call her as such) stares at you, concerned. “Are you okay, y/n? Frustrated with work?”

You look up with an uneasy smile. “Oh, yeah, something like that…”

After she leaves satisfied with your answer, you properly smile. After all these years, she’s stuck by your side and taken care of you in replacement of your real family. Even now, she stays with you at your own place as the housekeeper.

You hope she never has to deal with dicks like Lee Jeno. You pinch your nose bridge, irked again.

It’s only been a week, and you’re at your wit's end. Why? Just why does the person you have to see every day for 24 hours on repeat have to be him? An aggravating, cocky, expressionless, handsome douch-

You stop yourself. And smack your face three, no, four times for good measure. You stand up violently with your palms planted flat on the table.

Let’s sleep.

You nod to yourself. Great idea.

❀

You stare holes into the man following after you into the building with his hands behind his back. You sincerely hope he gets the memo that you’re cursing him with your eyes.

You remember the first day of having Lee Jeno employed as your bodyguard. You remember the words you exchanged then.

You're fed up. You stop in your tracks, spinning around with your arms crossed and eyes glinting. “Do you have to follow me everywhere?”

Jeno stands there a few feet away, as he has been the whole day. “Do you know what a bodyguard does?” he retorts, unfazed.

You groan. “You know what? Go home. You can come back whenever my father’s around, so he at least thinks you’re doing your job. How’s that?” You point a finger at him aggressively. “I’ll pay you more. How much? What about-”

Jeno cocks his head. “Are you that much of an idiot?”

You scowl as you cross the lobby. Your bodyguard follows you into the elevator without a word and exits onto your floor without a word.

He’s even got his own personal desk now in your office, and you want to smack all the papers piled on his desk flying off.

Why the fuck does a bodyguard have his own papers to file?

You go to your desks respectively, not a single word exchanged. It lasts for about fourish hours until you give up. You stand up from your chair, exhaling as you glance at jeno. “I want to get something from the cafe. Let’s go.”

He gets up quietly, hands in his pocket as he follows you.

❀

You tap your hand on your chin thoughtfully. This order was especially important, as your day was already horrible enough and this one choice could quite literally change it.

Jeno sighs from behind you, reaching for his walkie-talkie. “No sir, we’re at the cafe. Miss y/n is taking a while with her order, I apologize on her behalf." It’s as if he was purposefully speaking louder for you to hear. You ignore him, gritting your teeth.

You practically start skipping in your designer heels, the taste of the drink makes you feel so giddy inside. Then it hits you. You left your layout plans back at home, so you switch your directions to head back there.

“Hey,” Jeno interrupts. “Where are you going? This isn’t the way back to the office.”

You ignore jeno once again.

Then a rough hand grabs your wrist, pulling you back with so much force. So much that you lose control and your drink is flung at jeno, soaking his neatly ironed suit.

Time pauses for a moment. You gasp, the air rushed out of you. Jeno freezes, the cold drink chilling his bones.

And then, it starts again. You snatch your hand out of his grip. “Are you crazy?” You yell, pissed. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

Jeno grits his teeth, closing his eyes in an attempt to control himself. You raise a finger, directing it straight at his face, just in-between his onyx eyes. “Who said you could touch-“

You’re prevented from saying anything else as you feel your body being ripped from its spot and slammed against a nearby brick wall, the pain almost making your eyes well up with tears.

A hand slams harshly next to you, and your eyes flick towards the culprit. You swear you can see his eyes flash red, and his chest heaves heavily with anger.

“Why are you always acting like a bitch?”

He steps even closer and instead of backing down, you meet his intense gaze. After a few seconds, you scoff and roll your eyes, crossing your arms once again.

“Have you always been this spoiled?” He breathes out shakily, nostrils flaring. “Perhaps you should open your eyes to the people around you instead of being a selfish and egotistical brat.”

You notice a prominent vein sticking out in his neck from the close proximity and swallow. You look away and then push him hardly off of you, disgust in your eyes. “I don’t think you have the right to say anything like that as my bodyguard. I also don’t think you have the right to prevent me from going to my own home. Don’t you dare follow me anymore.”

Fuming, you stomp off.

❀

If there was ever a time you wanted to kill someone, now would be the perfect chance.

“Mr. Lee will be moving into your place.”

You clench your jaw. “Father, you can’t possibly make that person live in my home!”

“Who, again, is the one paying for your current residence?”

You falter before gathering your resolve. “Sure, you did. I’m grateful for that. But you only got it through connections.” You sigh, turning your head away. “It doesn’t matter. There’s no way I’ll ever let him take one step in my place.”

Your father’s eyes narrow. “You need surveillance hourly after that cafe stunt, and the only way to do that is by having Mr. Lee stay with you. At all times.”

❀

You don’t like this. Not at all.

Shoulders rigid and tense, you stand in front of the door to your penthouse located on the top floor. Still being a young adult, your father pulled some strings to let you live in an apartment building near the office with your care-taking staff.

Well, from now on, your bodyguard, Lee Jeno as well.

Hesitantly, you type in the passcode and watch the door swing open. Not bothering to look behind you, you call out, “The passcode is 0418. Remember that from now on because I won’t tell you again.”

You see your grandmother and immediately smile. She stops in her tracks, shocked at the appearance of a man in your home.

Jeno quickly bows. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs… ?”

She laughs, already taken in by his appearance and apparent manners. You watch uninterestedly from the side, picking at your nails.

“No need for formalities, just call me auntie,” she smiles kindly.

You clear your throat, calling out sweetly, “Grandmother~”

She raises an eyebrow. You carefully tiptoe over to her, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “That man is my bodyguard. You know, the one I told you about…”

She pulls away, surprised, before looking back at jeno. “Really? You’re that handsome man?”

You choke on your spit. He smiles bashfully, and your mouth almost drops. The first time you’ve ever seen lee jeno smile, and it was… You look away.

pretty.

He bows again. “Thank you, auntie.”

Flustered, you call for a maid. “Take him to his room and tell him all the rules for staying here,” you order. Then you turn around and head towards your bedroom, desperately wishing for this to be a dream. For lee jeno who is currently staying in your home to all just be a dream.

It’s no use.

You get up, sighing. Hours later, you still can’t sleep. You can’t sleep knowing that lee jeno is a few bedrooms away, doing who knows what.

Probably sleeping, you remind yourself with a sarcastic laugh.

But for some reason, you can’t help but wonder about him. You groan, trying to get settled back into bed. And then you see his face again.

Lee jeno, smiling with those stupidly pretty eyes.

You want to rip your hair out.

Quietly tip-toeing, you walk out into the dark living room and across the hall to his guest room. Heart pounding, you stop at the door. Your hand slowly rests on the handle, and you contemplate for a second. Knocking and waiting give you no answer.

So you open it. Only to find the room empty, as if he was never there in the first place.

If this feeling was disappointment, perhaps? you don’t know what you would do, so you head back to your room, feeling as if you could finally shut your eyes.

❀

You get it, after a few days of coming home late at night with him always a few steps behind.

Jeno leaves. That bit was obvious, but it all made sense now. He always left late at night, and always came back early in the morning for you. At first, you thought it was a waste of time (and precious sleep) before you recalled what he said to you that one day.

“Perhaps you should open your eyes to the people around you instead of only being a selfish and egotistical brat.”

You laugh, upset when you really shouldn’t be. That’s right, jeno probably has his own family that he has to return to, that he never sees because of his demanding job. His job where he has to see your complaining, spoiled face every day. He probably has a girlfriend, or wife even-

You slap yourself. Stop wasting your time thinking about jeno. You know what? It’s time to say goodnight.

You needed to rest, after all, tomorrow was a big day. Another one added to the countless big days you’ve already had in your youth and age.

❀

“I conclude my proposition for the upcoming 2022 schedule. I thank you all for your attention and attendance.” You bow, and rounds of claps fill the room.

Unbeknownst to you, jeno stands out to the side of the meeting room, leaning against the wall as he waits for you. He stood planted like that for hours since the beginning of the meeting.

He looks down at the ground, still hearing the lasting effects of the applause from your presentation. Jeno won’t lie- he’s impressed. Okay so maybe at first he thought you were just another snotty rich kid with nothing better to do than spend all your money, but it turns out you can be more than that. He almost scoffs at the thought.

The way you exuded confidence- it was oozing out of you and into everyone in the room, and your voice speaking melodies (and many things he didn’t understand), but it was enough to make him shiver.

After finishing the ending remarks, you finally notice jeno’s presence. How long has he been there?

You walk over with a neutral expression on your face. You’re waiting, you’re not sure what for, but you’re waiting for him.

And all he does is stare.

You don’t get flustered. Not easily. And lee jeno staring at you for a long time made you flustered.

You bite your lip, frustrated. “What?” You finally bark. No response.

“What are you looking at?” You demand, looking disgusted. You walk off without another word. If you were being honest, you may have seemed rude but you were actually fretting internally, heart racing.

Was it your hair?

Self-consciously, you pat the top of your head, looking for a nearby mirror.

No way- this morning you purposely set your alarm early to do your hair for the meeting and so a certain someone would notice- you cough suddenly, thoughts interrupted by the approaching executive director. Immediately, you stop and put your act on, smiling and bowing. “How are you, sir?”

If you had just stayed back one more second, then you might’ve heard jeno murmur,

“you.”

❀

You bite your lip, searching through desk after desk.

Where could it be?

You swear you saw your father put it in the bottom left drawer, but it wasn’t there.

Running a hand through your hair, you quickly double-check that no one else is in the room, and continue the search. Your eyes gleam.

Found it.

The car keys dangle in your hand, practically shining in the light. It’s been months since you’ve last seen your precious baby, months since your father forbid you from driving. Probably to keep you from escaping late at night and doing things you shouldn’t be doing as the famous daughter of a CEO.

“What are you doing?”

Shit. You scramble to your feet, fixing your outfit.

Jeno stands in front of you, looking unimpressed. “What are those?”

You grow defensive, trying not to look as guilty or suspicious as possible while silently cursing him in your head. “Is asking questions the only thing you do?”

He shifts. “Maybe, if those car keys are yours.” He opens his mouth again. “I-“

In two seconds you’re in front of him, hands behind your back. Maybe just this once, it’ll work…

You look up at him from under your eyelashes, trying to muster the most pitiful (and childish) expression you can. “Please, oh please, my wonderful dear bodyguard, will you let me off just this once?” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I promise I’ll never treat you horribly or yell at you ever again. If you want, I won’t even talk to you anymore. I swear, these are the keys to my happiness-“

You peek an eye open, waiting hesitantly for his reaction.

You pout using your special pitiful eyes, leaning in closer. “Please, Mr. Lee, I really need this…”

Jeno stands there, still as a rock and completely unfazed by your little stunt. He blinks, clasping his arms behind his back and clearing his throat. “Are you done?”

You stop the act, deflated. You tilt your head to the side, anger building inside you once again.

He seems oblivious, looking outside the window at the scenery. “I believe your friend requested to have lunch with you at this time, miss.” You stand up straighter, temporarily distracted. “Huh? Who?”

❀

The CEO eventually calls Jeno into his office later that night.

Jeno bows, awaiting his next words. “You called me in, sir?” Your father sighs, hands clasped together at his desk. “I happened to see y/n exit my office earlier today, although I’m certain she did not have any engagements or reasons to be in here. Is there something you need to tell me?”

Jeno inhales, thinking back to this morning with your hands cutely clasped in front of you and eyes shut. That side of you he never would have expected- that made his hands clammy. When was the last time he had clammy hands?

He swallows, bowing once again.

“No, sir.”

The CEO cocks his head. “Really?”

“I believe she was just grabbing her jacket that she left there earlier this morning.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes sir.”

He gestures with a hand, “If that’s all, you’re dismissed.”

Jeno turns to leave, a storm brewing inside of him.

❀

It’s been a week and your father hasn’t said anything. You giggle to yourself before looking up.

“Mr. Jeno!”

He sighs, walking to your desk. “Yes?”

You look around animatedly, humming. “I wonder… could you get me two coffees?”

Jeno’s eye twitches. You never break eye contact, staring deeply into his eyes with a sparkle. “Pretty please? I’ll pay you back. Extra if you want.”

You smile brightly up at him, and he turns away. Once jeno leaves, you get back to your work, humming happily.

Chareryeong’s mouth drops open from across the table after seeing your interaction. She quickly glances around before turning to you and whispering, “I thought you hated that man? All you did was talk shit about him to me.”

You tap your pencil against your papers quickly scribbling something down.

“Well… it’s turned out to be better than I originally thought.”

“What do you mean?”

You shrug. “Not sure, he’s just an interesting man. He only talks when talked to, and doesn’t show an ounce of emotion.”

“Except when he’s pissed at me,” you add quickly, frowning.

You dramatically whip your head towards the nearby window, sunlight shining through to light up the best features of your face while you study the beams of light.

“I want to be the one to get him to open up. I want to unlock those secrets of his,” you murmur wistfully.

She shakes her head. “Are you crazy? Or a pervert? No, both?”

You send a deadly glare towards Chaeryeong. “I’m not, I’m just hungry.” You frown, “How long do you think he’ll take to get back?”

❀

Two cups of coffee are slammed onto the desk, and you almost flinch before proceeding to let out a blindingly breathtaking smile once you realize who it is in front of you. “Thanks, my dear bodyguard.”

He stands there, unamused.

Sighing, you pick up a cup and offer it to him. “I got it for you.”

Oh, really? He thinks mockingly to himself. “I don’t drink coffee,” he states simply before turning away.

You stare down the back of jeno, from his perfectly styled hair to his broad shoulders and down to neatly tied shoes. Tch.

There’s no need for you to worry, after all, you’ll have plenty more chances.

❀

This game of cat and mouse continues on, to jeno’s pure dislike. He would never admit it, but intrigue fills him just as much. You intimidate him. Your dramatic 360 change in behavior around jeno confused not only him but the people around you. Either way, jeno refuses to fall into your trap. No matter how sweetly you talk to him with that infuriating (read: cute) look on your face.

-except for times such as these, when you act so stubborn and do such idiotic things jeno can’t stand to comprehend you.

So there was a reason you didn’t go far away from your house or father’s building into the public that often when alone.

Your eyebrow twitches. You quietly clear your throat, lowering your head even closer to the ground as if it’ll hide your identity anymore. You prayed that the baseball cap you wore purposefully to cover your face would work, but obviously, it didn’t- judging by the whispers around you.

“Excuse me, are you by chance, y/n y/l/n?”

You smile sheepishly, lowering your head even more while cursing internally. “Oh, uh, you see-“

“Guys, that’s CEO y/l/n’s daughter.”

“No way, you’re right.”

“Do you think I can get a picture? I’ve never been this close to a celebrity before..”

“Damn, she’s a lot prettier in person…”

Before you know it, a crowd surrounds you in the store while alarms go off in your head. You hear their insistent demand for pictures or autographs and see the confusion by the workers in the store. Cringing, you look around for the exit, avoiding hands reaching towards your body as you scramble to escape.

Jeno… you think, panicking. Jeno. Where is he?

That’s right. He said he was going for a walk while you were shopping in the store. Fuck, you curse.

And then, it’s like heaven appears right before your eyes. Amid the mob, you see a hand reach for you, and then a firm grip on your wrist pulls you out.

It’s jeno, gritting his teeth as he takes you away and makes a break for it. You feel like you’re in an action movie, running away in slow motion as jeno drags you along.

He turns left, then left again, and then right. You’re such a mess, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you and jeno turn a corner, almost running into another couple.

Jeno halts immediately, aggressively but still somehow politely commanding something from them. You’re confused, brain feeling like it’s running a thousand miles per hour. He knocks off your hat quickly while still on the lookout- you’re not even sure how he’s doing all these things at once.

You feel something shoved on top of your head and it finally clicks when you spot jeno wrapping the (hideous) jacket the lady was wearing just a few seconds ago around you.

He puts a cap on, presumably the man’s, and quickly thanks the confused couple before pulling you to a secluded corner by the edge of a building.

“What are you-“

You hear voices and you’re sure there was a quick hint of your name, causing you to gasp in fear.

Jeno bites his lip, looking around in desperation before he continues past the corner, revealing a sketchy, dark alleyway.

He starts toward it but you resist, pulling back without budging.

His head whips back toward you. “What are you-?”

You glare indignantly back at him. “I’m not going down that alley. You have no clue what’s in there.”

He rolls his eyes. “We don’t have time.” You pull your hand out of his grip, crossing your arms as you look to the side. “I will not.”

“You’re being a brat,” he snaps, and you nod stubbornly in acknowledgment. “Sure- I am. But you’re not making me go in that awful place.” Right as you finish, you hear multiple voices getting closer, and it takes a lot in you to not whimper.

“Idiot,” he hisses, before peeking past the corner as the voices get louder and louder. You don’t have time to process before you feel jeno push you against the wall with that seemingly inhumane bodyguard strength of his, just like that time before, except this time he leans into you, caging you underneath his arms.

“What are you- why-“ you splutter, but his face comes so close to yours that you simply shut your eyes tightly in response. You wait, feeling his soft breathing right above your mouth and lips hovering- almost touching yours.

But he never does. Even when the crowd walks by, unknowingly passing you two with your disguises, you grip tightly onto his jacket.

Jeno doesn’t let go until you’re safe. He releases you from under him, and you finally feel like you can breathe.

You hate the fact that jeno smelled really disgustingly good. Especially good- you can almost imagine, a pine forest with a woody and fresh scent that was stuck forever in your head. Perhaps the scent just reminded you of things you wished for that jeno carried with him.

You walk behind jeno, following like a lost puppy back to the car pickup area. You feel like you just ran a 5k, the adrenaline still not having faded yet.

You can just tell by jeno’s tense shoulders that he is probably, absolutely furious. When you reach the designated spot, waiting for the car to come pick you guys up, he turns to you with fists clenched.

“Why,” he shudders, “why did you think it was a good idea to go out in public without me? Did you really think no one would recognize you? Are you that fucking stupid?”

You look away, fidgeting. “I thought the hat would be enough to cover my face but…”

He scoffs, putting his hands on his hips. “A baseball cap isn’t enough to hide your identity- you know people can still see you with a hat on, right?”

He looks away, sarcastically chuckling. “Or maybe not, since you don’t even go outside.”

The car finally pulls up as you feel the anger boil through your body.

“Sure. Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself, you entitled prick!” You yell indignantly, two seconds away from flipping him off and calling for an uber.

“You can’t for shit,” jeno growls back. He takes your arm, opening the door, and forcefully putting you in the car. He thanks the valet driver, exchanging places and getting into the driver's seat.

You wait until he gets adjusted on the road again before speaking up, looking straight at his side profile. “I’m fine. Nobody got hurt, so it’s alright. I understand what to do from now on, so you don’t have to be mad anymore.“

The car rolls to a stop at the red light.

“You could’ve died. How can you not get that into your dense brain?” He snaps. “Your life is of uttermost importance- why do you even think people like me exist? To protect people's lives, your life, because you can’t afford to get hurt. You don’t understand the repercussions of your actions.”

The rest of the ride is in silence. You don’t dare to look at him anymore. When he reaches your apartment building, you get out and walk in without a single look back.

He sighs, reaching to move the car out of park when he spots an unfamiliar item.

Your jacket. Jeno sighs, deciding that he doesn’t want any of your belongings left in this car. He hesitates, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue before finally unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out.

When he reaches your door, he’s about to knock before he remembers you told him the passcode before.

“Remember that from now on because I won’t tell you again.”

The door unlocks with a quiet beep, swinging open gently. Jeno goes in silently as it’s in his nature, contemplating if he should just leave your jacket on the couch when he sees your room door open.

Peeking past, the only thing in sight is you, huddled by the foot of your bed and looking so small, perhaps the smallest he’s ever seen you. Jeno stops, confused. It’s silent.

He places your jacket down and takes a few steps towards your figure. As he gets closer, he can hear only one thing.

The sound of your quiet sniffles. That’s when he sees your body shaking.

Instinct kicks in and jeno bursts through the door and runs to your side, grabbing your shoulders and whipping you around so he can assess the damage.

You freeze awkwardly, bewildered. “W-what are you doing?”

He stills, equally as confused as you are. And then you gasp, horrified. “Did you follow me in? Did you watch me the entire time?”

Jeno feels shock and embarrassment course through his veins. You weren’t hurt.

You were crying.

How could he not notice before he saw your fluttering, watery eyes, and red nose?

Jeno looks down, voice soft. “Why… what’s wrong?”

Abruptly, you wipe your eyes and clear your throat. Sheepishly, you laugh. “It’s nothing, I just thought-“

You cut your sentence off midway, bringing a hand to run through your hair while you collect yourself.

This time, your voice comes out small and slow, as if you were a child that just got scolded. “I’m scared, jeno. You were right.”

You look away, head down so your hair falls in front of your face. “It was really scary.” Your voice is timid and hesitant. “What am I supposed to do now when I can’t even go outside without fearing for my life? When did things get like this?”

Your eyes slowly raise to look at him as you try to hold back from quivering. “I just… i wanna be okay.”

A few beats of silence pass. Eventually, Jeno’s hand reaches out, and it falls on the back of your neck, pushing you forward until your forehead rests against his.

Your breath hitches.

“I’m sorry.”

The sound of his voice, so soft and tender, sends shivers throughout your body.

“I promise I’ll protect you. You don’t have to be scared any longer, because I’m here, okay? I’m here to keep you safe, remember it’s my duty to make sure nothing happens to you. I’ll be the one to make you okay.” He stares at you, gazing deeply into your eyes. You can’t seem to break away from his dark eyes, full of compassion and sincerity.

He exhales, slowly releasing you. “Come on,” he stands up and straightens himself, “it’s been a long day and you should go to sleep.”

You nod, head empty except for exhaustion.

You stare up at the ceiling after getting tucked into bed. You can see jeno standing awkwardly by the door at the edge of your view, waiting. Shifting under the covers, you call out hesitantly, “Will you stay? Just-” you swallow, “just stay near me until I fall asleep? So I can feel safe?” Your voice ends in a whisper.

Jeno does. He watches you for a while, not knowing if he should stay or go. Just so he doesn’t feel like those creepy stalkers in movies, he goes to sit by the chair near your bed, staring at your peaceful face and your breaths soon evening out.

Jeno leaves after cleaning up the place a little bit, putting your shoes by the door and jacket up even though he knew you had workers hired to do those jobs.

Jeno leaves after delicately brushing the stray hairs off your face.

❀

It’s a beautiful morning. You wake up feeling strangely refreshed, getting out of bed and padding over to your master bathroom to get ready for the day.

You see swollen eyes staring back at you in the mirror, weird. Leaving over the sink, you turn on the faucet, about to run your hands under the water-

when it hits you.

Everything that happened yesterday. Everything comes rushing back.

You freeze, a hand covering your mouth as you let out a muffled shriek. The crowd chasing you, jeno almost kissing you, him catching you crying, the “will you stay?”

You silently hyperventilate, pacing back and forth across the marbled flooring. There’s no way you can go to work today. Absolutely no way.

❀

You sit rigidly at your desk in the office, too distracted to focus so your hands type random words onto the computer, keyboard clacking erratically.

So far, Jeno hasn’t said or done anything differently. He’s greeted you the same, spoke the same- nothing seems to be off. Except you, obviously.

Your father’s secretary walks in, accompanied by the sharp clicking of her heels. “Y/n, dear, your father was wondering when you would submit the instruction plans.”

You sit up straight. “Instruction plans?” you ask, blinking. She raises an eyebrow. “The one due today?”

Well, shit.

❀

You already knew the moment you screwed up you would be sent to the one and only- your father’s office.

It’s deadly quiet, and you stand with your head lowered to the ground and hands clasped behind your back.

“Y/n.”

You bite your lip. “Father.”

“How can I have such high expectations of you when you forget imperative things like these plans? You knew they were due today. We were counting on you, and we didn’t dare expect them to come in five hours late.”

You breathe in, and then out. “Forgive me, father. It was a one-time mistake that I know I will never do again. I promise to keep track of all my schedules from now on.”

“Should I get you your own personal secretary-“

“No!” You blurt out instinctively, although you catch yourself a second later, swiftly composing yourself. “No thank you. I had some issues yesterday but I assure you it will never happen again.”

He dismisses you with a hand.

Things seemed to settle down again after that. Surprisingly, you and jeno hadn’t gotten in many major arguments after that. It was more of bickering. Friendly bickering that actually left you laughing more times than fuming. It was a nice change to see jeno smiling more often. And unbeknownst to you, he felt the same.

Before jeno clocks in one fine morning, chaeryeong rolls her chair over to your desk. You look at her, waiting for her next words.

“So… you and jeno?” An incomprehensible sound escapes your mouth without warning, causing her to raise her eyebrows higher. Quickly, you clear your throat. “What are you talking about?”

She holds back a laugh. “Every time I see you two around the building, you’re always talking. And smiling.”

You look back towards your computer screen awkwardly- suspiciously. “So? Are we not allowed to do that?” She sends you another knowing look, one that you ignore, instead focusing back on your work.

Jeno comes in strangely late, specifically 40 minutes late. And he’s never late. You watch him plop down at his desk with a disgruntled grunt, sluggishly getting his things prepped for the day. A frown settles on your face unconsciously.

The whole day, he acts strange. He looks exhausted- not the kind that you’re familiar with- not the one you usually have when there’s a big presentation the next day and you can’t sleep, but more just like when you’re tired of life. Done with living. Exhausted from life.

His responses to your questions are short. Even when you ask if there’s something wrong, he just brushes it off or looks away. It throws off your whole day. It's difficult when he spends all his time with you, constantly at your side, and it bothers you much more than you would have liked.

Even the drive home is completely silent. You study him from the side, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw tense like they have been all day.

You wait until he reaches your apartment building before speaking up hesitantly. “Are you really alright, jeno?”

He murmurs an unconvincing, “yeah.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been-“

“I said I’m fine!” he snaps, turning to you with a spark in his eyes before it dissipates. He looks away, fidgeting with his fingers. “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s nothing you did. Just don’t worry about me,” he says, voice considerably lower.

A tiny nod escapes from you. You both make your way up quietly to your home, the silence feeling strange as you and jeno usually chatted during the way up, but obviously, that didn’t happen today.

Once you enter and greet all the workers, you excuse yourself to wash up in your master bathroom, leaving jeno to linger in the living area. You assume he’s going to leave sooner than later as he always does, never once having stayed the night at your place since your father directed him to do so.

You take your sweet time, allowing yourself to wash away all the stressful things of the day as you get ready for bed. But before you do, you go outside to get a glass of water and chat with your grandmother.

What you did not expect was to see jeno’s sleeping figure on your plush couch, body rising and falling peacefully with his breaths. He must’ve been exhausted, having fallen asleep like that. You stop in your tracks, processing the sight. What in the world?

Swallowing, you decide to carefully walk closer, examining his face and how even in his slumber he still looks stressed.

A sound diverts your attention, a couple of the maids standing there patiently. You silently signal for them to leave you two in peace.

You study him with an unreadable expression. “Did you have a rough day?” You whisper softly, a concerned look on your face. “You seemed so off the whole day, I have no clue what happened to you.” You look around before exhaling and reaching out a hand to fix a piece of his styled hair that fell out of its place.

“I’m- uh, I’m sorry?”

You’re unsure of what to do or say next, so you grab a blanket from the guest room and attempt to cover him as best as you can, especially for the fact that you had never done anything like this to someone else before.

Before you head to bed, you inform the workers to let him sleep on the couch for the night. You have no idea why this instinct comes over you- why it makes you do these things for him.

❀

Jeno wakes up with the sun in his face, an unfamiliar background coming into focus. He rests there for a moment, allowing his body to fully wake up.

He shifts- his clothes, he’s still in his suit- and where even is he?

Sitting up, it eventually comes back to him in pieces. That’s right, he fell asleep at your place on your couch. But the blanket? He has no recollection of anything else.

Jeno spots a glass of water on the table, and he glances around before figuring it must be for him. He takes a gulp, and then another one, and then another before he realizes he’s finished it all.

He hears a familiar voice. “Mr. Jeno?”

It’s your grandmother. She smiles kindly at him. “The missus informed me to tell you that you have the day off. Just rest, alright?”

His eye twitches. “Pardon?”

She laughs. “You don’t have to work today, dear. Don’t go to the office. Y/n especially enforced that.”

He stares at the white blanket still covering him, thinking back to last night. Before your grandmother leaves him be, she has her last remark. “She was really concerned for you after last night. Please take better care of yourself, jeno.”

“Y/n? Really?” All jeno can do is wonder why.

You sit there, as still as a statue while the makeup artists and hairstylists work their magic. It’s been a while since you’ve gone out to a public event due to your father’s advice that the was best to let things cool off after those crazy fan situations. It’s been a while since you’ve attended one of these events as a brand ambassador.

You stand head to toe dressed in their clothes, practically a walking advertisement. The last time you remember doing any activity related to their brand was when you shot for a photo shoot to be printed on magazines sent out all over the country.

After the last finishing touches are put on your face, you thank everyone and head for the car to take you to the event’s location.

Jeno greets you in the car, and you nod with a grim smile. There wasn’t a feeling of nervousness in you, more of a numb sense filling your body. You watch the night lights zoom by through the car window, and occasionally sounds beeping from jeno’s walkie-talkie would fill the air.

You know when you’re getting close because the sounds of fans and chatter and just about everything get louder and louder. When the car rolls to a stop, you brace yourself. Jeno gets out first, and that’s when you suddenly freeze. Someone opens the door, and suddenly all the sounds are amplified. The screams from fans, cameras clicking, employees of the event are all there. But again, just as it once happened before, a hand extends out to you.

It’s Jeno’s.

You gulp, internally commanding yourself to put on your public face while taking his hand out of the car.

The flashing lights and desperate paparazzi reaching out to you are familiar. Instead, you just try your best to smile and keep a cool head. But it’s difficult when there are so many people surrounding you, trapping you.

You look up at jeno.

And once again, it feels like time freezes. Suddenly he’s the one that seems so cool in the midst of flashing lights, the stoic expression on his face as he holds a hand out to make way as your bodyguard takes your breath away.

You’re so caught up in staring at him, gulping, that you don’t know if you’re even moving forward. Or paying attention.

Well, evidently not since you don’t notice a mic shoved at you until it’s right in your face. You flinch, and jeno immediately shields you, pushing it away. He guides you to another route that’s not blocked by as many people. Jeno waits until there’s a moment for you to breathe before asking with the same concern he once showed you before. “Are you okay?”

Throat dry, you can’t bring yourself to respond so you nod quickly. Then you’re swept into the rest of the event and all of its happenings. Luckily, you’re professional enough to compose yourself for the rest of your appearance at the show.

You pose for pictures just like those professional models, answer questions flawlessly, and interact with the other famous people there all while keeping a smile on your face at all times. There’s a chance it all came off looking fake, but you’re hoping that it was enough to convince the public and the people.

The people. The fans. Your fans. Your fans that you love and appreciate the most. (Excluding the crazy ones that completely disregard your rights as a human being.)

It’s only when they ask for pictures or signatures from you that you truly smile. And jeno can clearly see that. Even when he’s farther off, not the one in the spotlight, he can see your felicitous smile as you pose with your adoring supporters. The times when you’re not right in front of the camera, you’ll nudge him, muttering about how cute your fans are or how talented they are with the creative banners they make for you.

Jeno has never seen this side of you before. He’s only seen the fear in your eyes when those intrusive fans suddenly surrounded you. He’s only seen the crying, upset you who’s scared to be who you are.

But when you smile at them, he unknowingly smiles at you.

❀

The event lasts for five hours, including preparation beforehand and closing statements. Not necessarily a long time, but jeno isn’t used to constantly watching over one person's every move or constantly being in fear something will happen to you after those previous times. Every time you leave his sight, he can’t truly breathe until he sees you again.

Finally, when you wave goodbye to all your admirers and get into the car, can jeno’s heart relax. You breathe a sigh of relief, buckling your seatbelt as jeno shifts the car into drive.

“You looked nice today,” he comments out of the blue.

You glance at him, observing as he drives out of the venue. But perhaps, you might’ve looked too much for too long. You didn’t pay attention to how long you really were staring at him.

“Why are you looking at me so much today?”

You inhale sharply, turning away. “H-huh? What are you talking about?” You pretend to act oblivious, murmuring something random about the weather finally getting cooler. Jeno chuckles quietly, driving the rest of the way home.

When he pulls up and opens the door for you, you finally realize the extent to which your feet hurt, having stood around in heels for far too long. You can’t wait to get up to the comfort of your penthouse and take them off- quite actually the best feeling ever.

You take a few steps before unexpectedly turning around to face jeno. He stops, somewhat surprised.

“Why don’t you actually sleep at my place? Why do you leave in the middle of the night and come back early in the morning?”

His eyes widen. A few beats pass with no answer.

At last, you look down, shrugging. “I was just curious, that’s all. You don’t have to answer,” you reply, reassuring him with a smile.

“Go home and get some rest. Thanks for sticking with me today.” You quickly bow and run inside the apartment, heart pounding erratically.  Jeno can only stand there, shocked while watching your silhouette get smaller and smaller until it disappears into the building.

What could this be?

It keeps happening. Whenever he holds a hand for you to take while stepping out from the car or opens doors for you- or does anything more than his job doesn’t necessarily entail. Jeno’s been doing it since the beginning, whether you asked him to or not. So why is it suddenly affecting you like this? Why does it even make a difference? It’s just manners, but to you, it’s more.

When you open the door to the car in the morning and he turns to look at you from the driver’s seat, it’s like a scene from those movies. It always plays out in slow motion, jeno in his clean suit and freshly styled hair turning around to greet you. The first time you experienced this, you almost shut the door and quite literally walked back into the building. It made you feel weird- an unavoidable feeling building inside each time it happened, and you couldn’t describe it.

Things like that would make you wonder. Is it just formality? You’ve seen how jeno acts around others, he’s truly a polite and well-mannered person. Is he just being nice to you since he was hired by your father? Those thoughts would invade your mind from time to time. Then again, you didn’t always have that kind of precious time to dwell on that, you were the famous daughter of the biggest CEO in the country. But that didn’t mean you still couldn’t try.

Tuesday. 8 am.

“Jeno!” You greet enthusiastically as he walks into your office as if you hadn’t seen him just sometime earlier when he came to pick you up to head to work.

“Good morning,” he responds calmly. You watch him get settled in at his desk.

11 am.

You blow a stray hair out of your face, tapping your pen against the table repeatedly as you think of a solution. Your brain feels like it’s hanging on a thin wire, about to snap. This is why you didn’t want to follow in your father’s footsteps, you remind yourself.

You frown silently, eyes wandering around the room. Naturally, they fall on jeno whose attention was focused on his phone, and you assume he’s playing his weird shooting game considering his furrowed eyebrows and hunched shoulders. You’ve watched him play it a couple of times before, whenever he was bored while waiting for you after some long meeting or discussion.

A lightbulb goes off in your head, causing a mischievous smile to appear on your face. Target acquired. You position yourself in your wheely chair and push. If your father saw, you would be scolded for “improper office etiquette.”

The wheels make a satisfying sound as they cruise against the ground, going straight in the direction you wanted. You roll up right next to jeno’s desk, one arm on the armrest as you place your chin in the palm of your hand, lingering. He doesn’t seem to notice your presence so you wait by peering down at his screen, eventually getting into his game.

He gets shot, his fingers flying wildly over the screen, and you let out a horrified gasp. Jeno’s head whips around before his sight lands on you and he visibly relaxes. “Fucking hell, you scared me.”

You smile innocently.

He shuts off the device. “What are you doing? Aren't you working?” You roll your eyes. “I can’t. I’m stuck. Help me, my dear bodyguard.”

Jeno pauses the game thoughtfully, looking at the clock on the wall next to him. “It’s almost lunchtime. Do you plan on going out?”

A wide smile breaks onto your face. “Well, now that you mention it…” Jeno stifles laughter as you eagerly grab your stuff and get ready to head out together.

Friday. Noon.

“Do you like your bodyguard?” Minjeong unexpectedly asks in the middle of your girls’ lunch.

You tilt your head to the side, sipping on your drink. “Do I like Jeno? I mean, sure. We don’t fight as much as we used to…” you nod pensively.

Chaeryeong snickers while Minjeong rolls her eyes.

“Y/n, sweetie. I mean like as in feeling attraction towards him. Any romantic feelings?” she emphasizes. You stop sipping, your mouth parting off the straw habitually.

“What,” you swallow, “makes you ask that?”

They both shrug simultaneously. There’s a certain look in their eyes that you can’t decipher. “You see,” Minjeong starts, “this is the first time in our lives that we’ve seen you act like this towards someone of the opposite sex.”

You think you hear crickets chirping off from far away. In what language would you possibly be able to understand what that means?

Chaeryeong bursts out laughing at the dumbfounded expression on your face before adding, “yeah, and he even calls you by your first name. Did he ask you or did you ask him to do that-”

You clear your throat, “You know what? I think I have to go. Jeno must be waiting for me,” you cough. “Oh dear, look at the time- I need to head out. I’ll contact you guys later!”

You pathetically smile for a split second before gathering your things and dashing off, looking for the nearest exit and private area for you to call jeno to come pick you up.

“Hello? The bill!” Minjeong calls out indignantly.

You curse. “I’ll get it next time,” you yell back before squeezing your eyes shut and pushing past the doors.

While walking away, you round past a corner without paying attention, too distracted trying to contact jeno. You bump into something firm, stumbling back.

You look up, it’s a random man that you’ve never seen and don't want to anymore after seeing how his face changes when he takes in your appearance. You try to smile politely, although you don’t feel like it.

“Excuse me.” Your attempt to sidestep the man fails. He steps in your way purposefully, trying to laugh and smile as if it was a coincidental accident. This has happened to you too many times to count, so it only annoys you even further at this point.

“Hey, are you interested in-"

“Sorry. "I’m busy at the moment.” You don’t even attempt to smile at this point. He frowns, and you try again to pass him.

“Wait-“ he takes your arm and you feel disgust rise through you. “Let me go,” you command. He doesn’t.

“Oh, come on-“

“What do you think you’re doing?” You both turn around, and your heart sinks in relief when you see him. Jeno takes your hand, and you gasp when he pulls you closer to him. “Excuse you, but she’s with me. Thank you and goodbye.”

You can barely stutter anything out as he guides you to a secluded area, sitting you down on a nearby bench. Jeno places his hands on his hips. “Don’t go off like that without letting me know,” he scolds gently. “You scared me.”

You inhale sharply, avoiding his gaze. “A-alright.”

He raises an eyebrow at your reaction but his next words get interrupted by a call on his phone, and he turns around to answer.

You take this chance to place your hand softly on your chest, right above where your heart was. Your heart that was racing.

❀

This is the first time you’ve gone to a party with jeno. A formal one, but it’s still a party nevertheless.

You already spilled all the details to jeno in the car, informing him on what these ‘parties’ were really for. It was for those old snotty rich people to either set up their kids together or gossip to gain information and get an upper hand for their businesses. Essentially- a damn waste of your time. But as your father once said, any way to boost your reputation and public standing is good enough.

He nods, soaking in all your words. You take his hand and squeeze it gently. “Sorry, Jen,” and the nickname makes his chest tighten, “but it’s going to be a whole lot more boring than my father’s meetings.”

❀

Turns out that you’re very right.

Jeno spends most of his time people-watching. Of course, he was still guarding you, his eyes would flick over towards you occasionally, but there’s wasn’t much to see when 99% the time you had a fake smile on your face. Yes, the business-friendly one that most people wouldn’t catch, but jeno has seen it enough times to know what was a real or a fake smile from you.

He can easily describe the way your eyes crinkle and your mouth splits into a wide grin- he swears your dark orbs sparkle every time. But that wasn’t the kind of smile you wore now.

Jeno politely declines an offer for a glass of champagne for the 10th time- he doesn’t dare drink on the job. He looks over to where you are, and immediately his eyes capture the picture of you by the bar, drink placed next to you as you stare up at whatever stupid show is on the widescreen tv, the colors flashing back down onto your skin.

His gaze never breaks until he sees an unfamiliar man slide next to you. His bodyguard instincts go off but you don’t seem to notice the man and he doesn’t do anything to interact with you. Jeno hesitates, it wasn’t his duty to cut in whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted. He watches you talk for a couple of minutes, not paying too much attention.

He sighs, about to turn away when he catches a flash of something in the man’s hand, reflected off from the tv screen’s lights- the hand that’s moving away from your glass.

Well, shit. You’re completely clueless, having looked in the opposite direction of that man and therefore didn’t see anything suspicious of the sort. Immediately, jeno gets up from his spot leaning against the wall, making his way over to you. In the process, he encounters at least five groups of people that get in his way and prevent his path towards you.

Puffing a breath of frustration, you’ve moved to another part of the room with the glass in your hand by the time he gets over to the bar, seemingly very deep in conversation with a few important-looking people judging by their outfits.

Jeno’s sweating nervous sweat in his suit and he absolutely hates it. Every single time you raise the glass to your lips only to bring it back down because you have something important to contribute to the conversation, he feels like a piece of him has shriveled up and died.

It’s not as simple as it seems. More specifically, it’s just not his right to jump in whoever he wants. It’s rude etiquette and one of the first things he’s ever learned at his training school. Yes, there’s the whole you could die shit, and yes that’s a huge deal. But for some reason, all his instructors also made it a huge fucking deal not to interfere in business talk. Because for some ridiculous reason jeno will never get, rich people can’t stand it when “lower class” people interrupt them. And it makes jeno utterly furious when he just wants to walk over to you and rip that cursed drink out of your delicate, manicured hands.

He waits for a good moment. Any moment. He also forgets how popular you are. Jeno doesn’t want to admit it but it certainly irks him to see so many guys confidently walk up to you as if they think they can even get close to receiving your number. Except, jeno also feels a gratifying amount of satisfaction seeing the look of rejection on their faces just mere seconds later.

Jeno wants to go to you. He also wants to find the dumbass who spiked your drink in the first place, but the fear that you’ll take a sip the second he looks away overpowers him. It seems like there’s never going to be a moment he can jump in, and he contemplates just interrupting your conversation. What would the consequences be?

The split second you turn away from those dumb entrepreneurs or whoever jeno doesn’t care about, to raise that glass to your lips, he practically charges forward, ripping your wrist away and effectively spilling the drink in your hands all over the floor.

Astounded, you look up to see Jeno’s intense stare, breathing heavily. There’s complete silence around you, and luckily only in your proximity did by-passers notice.

Your expression says it all. What the hell?

He clenches his jaw, leaning in. “Spiked,” he mutters. Your eyes widen, and a bazillion thoughts course through your head before you remember where you are.

The people next to you are still just as speechless as you were, and once again you thank your years of practice that have led you to this day.

Your face automatically corrects to your business face and you start laughing, making eye contact with all the bewildered people in front of you. You throw a hand out, pretending to cover your mouth to stifle the laughs.

“It’s my father. Apparently, he gave directions to make sure I didn’t drink tonight.” You smile apologetically to the servants cleaning up the mess.

“I have an important meeting tomorrow,” you add, and the people begin laughing nervously and in relief. “-you know my father,” you quip and the laughter after that seems more relaxed. Crisis averted, you internally pat yourself on the back.

Most of the drink is already spilled all over the ground, but just to seal the deal you smile reassuringly to everyone nearby again before just completely trashing it, dropping the entire glass and all in the trash can without a second thought.

❀

The rest of the night goes by quickly- mainly since you ask jeno to take you home asap, and he quickly obliges. When he drives off, he shifts his gaze over to you. He can’t read the expression on your face as you stare straight ahead at the road.

“Are you okay?”

You exhale, looking at jeno. “Honestly? I have no idea.” A beat passes before you speak up again.

“But thank you for saving my life, again.”

Jeno swallows. He’s familiar with this. You’re doing it. Deflecting.

The sound of your hand slamming against the side of the car door almost makes him jump. He looks at you, concerned. There’s a determined expression he sees on your face, one he hasn’t seen often- if not at all.

“I’m not doing this anymore.”

He almost has a heart attack the moment you say that. “What-“

“I’m done being scared. I’m done pretending I’m okay and that nobody is trying to kill me, and I’m done doing nothing about it.”

You press your lips together. “Jeno,” you state firmly. The car rolls to a slow at the stop sign. “Did you happen to see who it was?”

He bites his lip, almost ashamed. “No. It was a man. Dark styled hair, gray suit. All I got was his backside, I’m sorry y/n.”

“No,” you shake your head. “That’s good. That’s better than nothing. But,” you fidget, wanting to curl up into a ball, “Why would anyone try to do this to me?”

Jeno tilts his head, “Most likely it’s someone trying to get to your father through you. Don’t worry, we’ll report it and find whoever’s behind it if there’s one at all.”

“Right.” Your head falls against the window with a thud. “This is annoying.” Jeno and you share a look, a grin coming up on both of your faces.

“Well, all I can say is that I’m impressed by your cover-up. It’s just like you were a professional actress in a movie. You handled that very well,” he speaks up.

You feel heat creeping up the back of your neck, and you clear your throat. “Thanks,” you mutter. Jeno cocks his head. This isn’t the first time you’ve reacted like this.

He calls your name, and your head shoots up. “yeah?”

“Do you always get this flustered when I compliment you?”

You scoff exaggeratedly, looking anywhere but at jeno’s face. “Yeah, right.” You cringe, your sudden voice crack really did you dirty.

Jeno bites the inside of his cheek to suppress the smile and laughter that so desperately want to bubble out of him.

❀

This is bad. This is very bad.

It seems as if jeno is taking advantage of this newfound weakness against you, and you do not appreciate it one bit. You enjoyed holding the power over him, but now that he can make you become the sweatiest, stuttering mess in the room when you were specifically trained to not do that since you were (basically) born, it makes you wonder if you took it for granted.

“You look pretty today.”

“Your hair smells so nice.”

The one time he called you princess you swear you almost fainted.

And the worst part is?

You have no clue why this occurs. Your body simply reacts without thinking. It makes you want to pull your hair out and keeps you up all fucking night long.

Jeno’s cocky smirk shows up in your nightmares or in reality, dreams.

“Hey, y/n,” he asks one day. You hum in response. “Who’s that one friend of yours that works here?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Chaeryeong?”

If you would have bothered to look up, you would have seen the cockiest and most mischievous smile on jeno’s face. “Right, that one. I just thought she was pretty,” he states casually, preparing for your reaction.

Your pen falls flat on the table. Your eyebrow twitches. Three, four, five seconds pass.

“What?” You ask in the quietest, calmest voice Jeno has ever heard since he’s met you.

Was it just him or did the temperature in the room drop three degrees?

He looks so innocent you don’t know if you want to punch him or hug him as a five-year-old would do to a teddy bear. “Hm? I just said she was pretty, that’s all. Right? I mean, she’s your friend.”

“Yeah, right…” you reply, distracted. Jeno counts five seconds, pretending to walk off a little way.

You let out a huge scoff, suddenly scribbling furiously in your notebook like you did the first week you met jeno.

“…are you okay, y/n?”

“Perfectly fine,” you respond with gritted teeth. You weren’t bothered at all. You didn’t care about jeno at all. No, none. Nothing. You don’t care about the fact that jeno and chaeryeong would look so good together and no, you don’t fucking care at all.

You hear small snickers off to the side, and you glare furiously at jeno before he quiets down.

It’s not until you wake up in the middle of the night at 2 am with a horrible pillow head that you realize it.

That fucker’s been doing it on purpose.

Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, name it and Jeno has seen you wear it before. You undoubtedly possessed one of the most extravagant wardrobes with pieces from famous designers all over the world. Decorated with expensive, rare crystals and accessories that probably cost more than jeno’s life and worn all on you like it was nothing.

But it was never like this.

No one can deny your beauty, radiating from every part of you. It’s always been there, only today the clothes you wear make it even more noticeable. Your bold, sleek (and quite revealing) dress paired with sharp high heels. The first thing that catches jeno’s eye is your hair, styled up high so delicately that makes him think it must’ve taken at least 3 hours.

They all make a huge dent in Jeno’s shield.

The whole day he was told that you were busy, and now he suddenly understands why, gulping. “W-where exactly are we going again?”

You smirk, pretending to act innocent although nearly the whole room stares at you in shock. “A cocktail party. I have to meet a potential partner.”

Jeno’s too dumbstruck to ask you what kind of partner (and he later regrets it.)

Alright, so maybe the idea popped in your head soon after your father informed you that a potential business partner was attending the party later today. It gave you an excuse to get dolled up- who doesn’t like to do that every once in a while? Besides, there was no way you would pass up an opportunity to catch jeno off guard.

❀

This strange, foreign feeling that derives from the bottom of his stomach and rises up his throat makes him sick. It forces jeno to want to punch a wall or anyone nearby, and he almost obliges. More than once, the wine glass in his delicate hand almost shatters and he doesn’t drink. Jeno hasn’t, and he most certainly will not, but he’ll accept anything to just ground him, ground him before he does something he’ll definitely regret.

Bodyguards weren’t allowed in private rooms. Jeno can only stand outside the door, pacing back and forth as he tries to identify what this horrid sensation is. The only thing that reaches his ears is the sound of your laughter. Pressing his ear against the door in an attempt to eavesdrop (he was that desperate apparently), produced no results when the only noise was your soft murmurs muffled by the door. Your giggles were ones that he got to hear, not whoever this “potential partner” of yours should even deserve.

It just irks him. That’s it. His worst fears come to light when he recalls this afternoon. You look ready to kill in that attire of yours, and your mention of a partner.

There’s no way…

marriage?

The glass in his hand cracks and it immediately breaks his stupor. He awkwardly places it down before he does any more damage. Anything, jeno does anything ranging from squats to lunges to distract his wild mind. Until finally, the door opens and in a split second, he’s back to his formal self. One man walks out, then another, and finally one last one who waits for you to shake your hand politely before bowing and heading off with the others.

He tries, hard, to pretend he’s unbothered, but his eyes flicking back between you and the leaving men reveal his true intentions. Still smiling, you sigh contently before greeting your bodyguard.

“How,” his voice is gruff and scratchy from not having used it for a while, and he swears your smile grows just the teeniest amount, “how was it?”

You start walking at a casual pace, dress flowing behind you as jeno deftly avoids stepping on it while following. You could get used to this.

“Good.” Suddenly, you turn around to face him. Taking a step closer to jeno creates a ripple effect as he takes a step back, and another one, and another until shit- the wall’s there.

You search jeno’s eyes, unwavering no matter how close your body gets to his. You’re much taller with those heels, jeno notes as he avoids eye contact.

Keeping a distance you deem appropriate between your bodies, you lean the slightest in, and jeno gets a whiff of your sweet perfume- it’s almost sickening as he pleads for his eyes to stay open. Jeno prays that someone walks past the corridor so you’ll step back, give the man some room to breathe, but it seems that he’s out of luck.

Your voice is so full of fake concern, even he can see through it.

“Are you alright?” you look at him from under your eyelashes. His nod is almost indiscernible as you lean in closer, eyebrows furrowed.

“Sure?”

He chokes out a ‘yes,’ and you finally take it, stepping away. You pretend you don’t see his sigh of relief and give him a couple of breather seconds.

“So,” he finally gets out, “who was that?”

You feel giddy. Exiting the party into the chilly night, you shiver before shooting him a look. “No one important. Why? Are you jealous?”

Jeno actually scoffs at that, shoving his hands in his suit pockets. “Yeah, right. I don’t care at all who- but uh, if it’s really a mar-“

You continue walking, allowing the smile to break fully on your face. “It was just a potential business partner for our upcoming exhibition. No need to get jealous, Jen.” He stops walking at that. You can hear the lack of footsteps and turn around, crossing arms to keep in the heat. That’s when jeno notices. His eyes rake over you, and suddenly, the cold doesn’t bother you. Jeno sniffs, looking away as he grumbles, “Then there was no need to wear all that..”

A puff of air leaves your mouth as you laugh, visible in the frosty air. You open your mouth to respond but your lips part without any sound leaving. The feeling of jeno wrapping his suit jacket around you has your blood-chilling even more if that was possible.

“Come on, let’s go home, y/n.” When he receives no response, he turns to find you as still as a statue, staring off into the distance. He squints. Are you blushing?

His hand waving in front of your eyes allows you to unfreeze, jeno’s concerned face coming into focus. “Why is your face red?”

“What?” You jolt, “N-no it isn’t,” you lie, although you quickly start hitting your cheeks as if it would magically will them to stop.

“You know doing that is only going to make it worse,” he remarks, amused.

“Stop being a smartass and drive me home, will you?”

He salutes jokingly. “Anything for the missus,” and you push his shoulder playfully.

❀

It’s nearing the Christmas season. For you to get into the spirit, there’s only one thing that you do every year. An unbreakable rule, a small self pat on the back for all the hard work you’ve done this year.

Of course, it’s splurging-

on yourself.

Jeno rolls his eyes at the sight of you. You couldn’t decide between an orange Hermes bag or a Gucci handbag, so you weigh the two options in front of him, frowning. Both ridiculously expensive that he doesn’t bother looking at them.

“Which one looks better on me?”

“Both.”

You pout, “Come on, I’ve been switching back and forth for two hours now.” You continue, “the orange looks better with my-“

Two hours too many, his eyebrow twitches as he tunes out the rest of your words. Puffing out a breath of exasperation, he pinches his nose ridge. “You look the prettiest, alright? So don’t go asking me anymore because either doesn’t compare to you…” he trails off in frustrated mutters while pinching his nose bridge.

You fall silent.

❀

The gift is held out, a dainty box with a glittering silver bow wrapped around it. While jeno was answering a call, you quickly ran off to the designated store that had been in your sights since the moment you arrived at the shopping centre. Having brought proper disguise to wear this time, you felt safe enough entering without him.

Jeno’s eyes widen in surprise. “What’s this?”

You shrug. “Just something for coming along with me today,” and before he can say anything, you swiftly intercept, “I know you’re forced to since it’s your job, but really.” You glance down at the ground in embarrassment. “It’s a thank you gift, so I won’t allow you to return it.”

He holds the box in his hand, admiring the packaging. Throat dry, he swallows before opening it.

A pristine silver watch presents itself to him, almost mockingly- something he could never afford. Reading the brand, he grasps a rough estimate of the cost, and honestly, jeno can’t expect less from you. It’s beautiful, yes, and he’s been needing a new one for a while now, but…

“Y/n, you know I-“

You raise a hand out to effectively stop him. “None of that. I won’t have any of it.”

He presses his lips together, examining the watch once more as it ticks silently, the sleek finish gleaming against the streetlights. “Okay then,” his voice floats over to you softly, “thank you, y/n.”

“I owe my life to you-”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s my duty, and… I never want to see you hurt.”

You nod, replying with a tender, “I know.”

And with that, you quickly bid him goodnight with a pacing heart.

❀

Your father calls you early in the morning to his office. You’re greeted by his stern expression, a usual that you’ve come to expect. But what you don’t expect is to see jeno sitting across from you, akin to the first day you met him. The look on jeno’s face makes you stop in your tracks. His hands rest on his knees, hands clasped firmly together as his eyes stare at the floor and the floor only- the unreadable expression makes you frown unconsciously.

Your father calls out your name, and you bow with your gaze still focused on jeno.

“Why… why did you call for me?”

The CEO lets out a long, heaving sigh. “I’ve been thinking. After I found out about your spiked drink at the party three weeks ago, a suggestion was made that we obtain a proper squad -a team of bodyguards- to protect you. Lee Jeno is a fine man,” he pauses to glance at the unmoving silhouette, “but it seems that more protective measures need to be taken.”

You get the underlying message. Everyone knows, Jeno doesn’t work with others. That means replacing- you fucking hate the word- him with a whole squad just to watch over you all the time.

You tense. “What are you implying about Jeno? Are you saying that he can’t protect me? Father, that’s completely absurd. He has been trained-“

“You know very well that’s not what I have said.”

You bite your lip. “And therefore? Jeno has been protecting me since day one, and he will continue to. I allowed you to hire me bodyguard, how much more do you want from me?“ your eyes flicker to jeno. “I put my faith in you to trust Jeno wholeheartedly and have done so. Don’t tell me false lies without thinking of your daughter.”

At that, Jeno is stunned. For once, he looks at your asserted figure, unable to move until you call out his name, instructing him to follow you out of the room. Jeno follows you silently as you cross the hallway into an empty staff room. He patiently waits for you to speak up.

There’s so much you want to say, and no words to put it into effect. You turn around, and he automatically notices the storm brewing in your eyes. That conflicted look makes him want to bury you in his arms. He does.

The wind is knocked out of you, body freezing in his warm embrace. Eventually, your arms come to wrap around his waist. Your head falls to lay on his shoulder, and it feels way too natural to make sense. “Jeno…”

“Y/n.”

“You’re not going. I’m not letting you.” You pull back, letting him see the sincerity in your eyes, and he does, adam’s apple bobbing slightly. Then a certain thought strikes your head, and you quickly release him, embarrassed.

“Unless- you, unless you want to stop being my bodyguard.”

He frowns. “I never said that,” he quirks an eyebrow, and you sigh in relief. He places a hand on your shoulder and you meet his gaze. “Don’t worry y/n, I’ll never leave your side.”

The evident happiness shown in your eyes is enough to make him happy too. Perhaps it’s the new environment you’re placed in or the situation that just occurred, but it’s almost as if a filter was placed over jeno’s eyes when he looks at you. His eyes can follow your every action and he becomes conscious of your remaining warmth that came from being pressed against him. Your outfit, hairstyle, scent, all feel so fresh to him. He wants to shake it off- it’s somewhat overwhelming.

After seeing you stand up for him, stand up against your father, it’s like a switch flipped and there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

❀

The long-awaited holiday of the year is coming up, and Jeno soon realized the extent to which he desperately needs to buy gifts. Desperately so, or else his friends would beat him up. Not that they could or he would let them, but jeno’s generally known in the friend group for lagging behind due to his work schedule, and he’s determined to make a difference this year. Jeno doesn’t have much time off- barely any at all, but the one day he does, a sense of loneliness washes over him. The one day he convinces himself to go out to buy presents, the reluctance of being alone stops him and before he knows it, his phone is dialing a number- your name flashing on the screen.

The rush of delight that fills him when you almost immediately agree unnerves him. Before hanging up, jeno quickly reminds you to cover your identity- mask up, wear a hat, do whatever- and you reluctantly comply. You don’t question who or what he’s buying gifts for, you just tag along.

At the crowded shopping plaza, the festive cheer fills the air, and finally, it sets in. Jeno grabs your hand instinctively as you weave through the crowd. You go through a total of six stores until jeno feels satisfied with all his gifts. You helped him pick out an ugly sweater and he swore he’s never laughed harder than at your expressions of surprise and confusion from all the bizarre patterns. "Why do people like to wear these... kinds of clothes?" you wonder out loud, and he bursts out laughing.

Before you leave, there seems to be a band playing celebratory music in the center of the plaza, and you can’t help but drag jeno across to the growing crowd that listens. Finding a good spot near the back of the crowd just for safety measures, you and jeno stand there. He silently watches you bounce along to the music, body swaying back and forth as you listen in glee. Chuckling, he almost glances away until he hears your voice. A strange man stands to the left of you, leaving over to ask you a seemingly harmless question. It really shouldn’t bother Jeno, but an unsettled feeling unnerves him as you answer casually, quiet enough he can’t hear what you said. Still, he stays silent.

That’s when he catches the man’s hand and glint reflecting across the light, the distance between his knife and you decreasing. Instinctively, Jeno lunges forward and grabs your arm to pull you to him quickly as he tries to get between the two of you. It all happens in a split second- in one moment he’s wide-eyed and springing forward and the next he’s gripping onto you tightly, almost shaking your body as he questions you. For a minute he thinks you’re fine, your wide and flustered eyes staring back at him as you hold just as tight onto his tensed arms.

Then he follows your eyes, your very eyes that trail down to your side, and his blood runs cold. He sees the blooming patch of red, and immediately he whips around to find the damned culprit but there’s no one. You stumble, and that’s when Jeno begins to panic, no longer caring as he yells out to the people around you to call for an ambulance.

The last thing you remember before blacking out was jeno’s eyes shining with alarm and distress as he calls out your name.

❀

This may be the first time Jeno’s completely out of his senses. His leg bounces in front of him as he clasps his hands together, praying that you’re okay. The hospital is mainly quiet, the noise dying down after the couple of hours that have passed since you were admitted. Once the sound of footsteps approaches him, he jumps up to see the doctor, waiting with a neutral expression.

You’re going to be okay. You’re alive and well. It was just the situation and sight of blood that must’ve caused you so much shock that you fainted. Fortunately, you were pulled away by jeno enough so that the knife wasn’t able to impale you- jeno nearly gags- but only leave a long scratch that ran across your side. It was enough to keep you in the hospital for a set amount of days, but nothing that would impair you. Jeno isn’t allowed to see you yet, and he goes to testify to the police and your father. It pains him to describe the scene in detail- the sickening man who did that to you, but he finishes one way or another. Jeno knows it’s deeper than this, there’s more to this and he’s had a feeling for a while. All he’s told is that your father is keeping the situation quiet in order not to arouse the public media (although it obviously has) and that a private investigation surrounding the attempted murders is ongoing. Jeno’s left to sit in the cold hospital waiting room, alone with his thoughts and feelings.

He feels the guilt breaking him- he’s the one who made the promise and he couldn’t protect you.

The first time he saw you, his eyes almost well up with tears. No matter how much you’ve been through, how much you’ve suffered- you’re always so strong. Your gentle smile and tired eyes tear his heart even further. Jeno states your name quietly, trudging closer. You pat next to you, implying for him to come closer. Where does he even start?

“I’m so sorry. It was all my fault. If only I had-“

“Why are you apologizing?” You stare at him with an incredulous look, and he blinks.

“What do you mean why? You got stabbed, y/n. I wasn’t fast enough so you got hurt and now you’re here, in the hospital.”

“Are you serious? Or is this some kind of joke?”

Jeno can’t believe it. Was it the medication making you loopy? “You’re hurt. I couldn’t even do my job properly and he was right there-,” he clenches his fists and lowers his face in regret.

Your warm hand placed on top of his gets him to shut up. He looks up and sees your tiny smile, hidden with a secret emotion he can’t discern. “Jeno,” you say.

“Stop looking at this,” you gesture to your wound, “and start looking at this.” You open your arms wide, showing you in all your glory- including the dumb hospital gown and iv drip attached to your arm. Your eyes soften. “You saved my life, and I’m only here because of you. Think of how much worse it could have been,” you press and he doesn’t say anymore or want to imagine anything more.

“Okay, y/n. Just please forgive me for breaking your trust. You put your faith in me and-

You roll your eyes stubbornly. “I forgive you, now please stop with that depressing talk. I’m completely fine and honestly more irritated at the fact that I have to stay here confined while everyone gets to do exciting stuff.”

“Chaos happening at the office because of your almost death isn’t exciting- at least, I don’t find it to be,” he jokes, finally feeling the mood lighten. You scoff.

Your father spending most of the time conferring with the police and media sources instead of visiting you at least once could mean more or less to you at this point.

He scoots his chair closer to your hospital bed. “You’re not… bothered by him? It’s like your own father and only family doesn’t even care for your safety, just the public’s opinion on the company.”

You manage a tiny shrug in order not to mess with your stitches. “That’s just how it is when your father is the CEO of the largest shareholding company in the country.” You look down to fiddle with your fingers. “Besides, I don’t know what I’d do if he did care.”

That’s when Jeno realizes how alone you are. You have friends but they have their own appointments. You have family but they never visit. Jeno resolves to make up for all of the absences in your life.

❀

You’re surprised by how much Jeno stops by and keeps you company at the hospital. Without fail, he brings snacks or random stories every visit. He’s not officially on duty since you’re restricted to the hospital, but he still tells you the happenings at the office, or which two workers have been revealed to be secretly dating (and every time you clap your hands together and yell “I knew it!”), or sweet messages from co-workers that aren’t able to visit you in person. And, the update on the case. They got the guy who stabbed you- the same one who tried to poison you that one night, and it makes Jeno feel a little better. For now, the motive is just trying to get to the CEO by using you and he hopes the police stick with it.

“You know,” you speak up one afternoon, “you don’t have to be here. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get a break from being my bodyguard and seeing me 24/7.” The look Jeno sends you in response effectively shuts you up.

On the days you force him not to come in or he’s reached the maximum limit of visiting you for the week- stupid, he knows- he sends you messages that leave a smile on your face and your heart fluttering.

❀

Well, this a certainly a predicament you would have never thought to find yourself in. Jeno’s foot taps the floor in a random beat as he recounts the drama that occurred at the office today. Your eyes keep slipping towards the simple clock on the wall, and you feel your palms grow increasingly clammy. Jeno, of course, takes note of this. You always listen intently to his stories, so the one time he feels the absence of your gaze on him, he knows something is wrong.

“What is it?”

You almost jump. “Huh?”

He purses his lips together, “Something’s bothering you.” Internally, you debate the consequences of revealing the issue. Would you regret this? And then you remember you have almost been murdered multiple times. This one thing couldn’t possibly kill you, right?

You take a deep breath. “The nurse said that today, I could finally change into my normal clothes and you know how much I hate wearing this stupid hospital gown.” You bite your lips and jeno’s eyes subconsciously follow the action. “But it’s four o’clock and she still hasn’t come in to help me so… couldyoupossiblyhelpmetakethisoff?”

As if realizing what you just said out loud, you shoot your gaze to the nearby window in the room, heat filling your body. Silence permeates the room and you so desperately wish you could reverse time and keep your damn mouth shut. Why, of all times, do most hospital gowns not have zippers, and the one you’re currently wearing does?

“You know what, forget-“

“Okay.”

You speak at the same time. You whip towards him. His ears are flushed red as he avoids your gaze awkwardly.

“I-I won’t look, I’ll-“

You blink, a sudden feeling of helplessness rising within. “I know. I can’t reach it because of my stitches so can- can you just unzip the…”

“Y-yeah, I got it.”

You hold your breath as he approaches you, fingertips delicately placed near the top of your back. His hands hesitate before softly reaching for the zipper, pulling down slowly. You can feel the coldness of his fingers seep into your back but you grit your teeth and mention nothing, heart pounding.

“I promise I’m not looking anywhere like that,” he mutters while zipping it down further. You reassure him that it’s fine before shivering when his cold fingers come in contact with your bare shoulder to help take the gown off. There’s this sudden urge to turn around to face him, but it’s practically impossible in your current state, so you close your eyes instead and focus on your breathing. He stills for a second, but his eyes can’t help but slowly get pulled into your wound now in plain view, and he swallows. Luckily, most of your body is covered still by the gown, but he still sees the broad amount of smooth skin that wasn’t attacked or worked on.

Jeno whispers a soft, “I’m done.”

The door clicks open noisily and your heads both whip towards the source of the sound. A nurse stands there, one hand on the clipboard and another still on the door handle, observing the scene.

“It’s not-“

“I wasn’t doing anything, I…“ he splutters.

Excuses and explanations fill the air until eventually Jeno feels it’s best to leave and he practically dashes out of the room. You can only sit there, astounded.

The nurse clears her throat, “Well then, I guess I’ll finish helping you change.” You nod wordlessly.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

You jump and it stretches your stitches, causing a wince to erupt out of you as the nurse calms you. “Oh my, I didn’t mean to startle-“

“It’s fine,” you mumble distractedly, apparently more preoccupied with the aforementioned thought. Does jeno look like your boyfriend? Has the media noticed and misunderstood? Was there even something to misunderstand about?

❀

December 25. AKA, Christmas Day.

You receive the green light from the doctors to go home. After expressing your uttermost gratitude to the doctors and nurses that took care of you, you feel the rising excitement at the prospect of finally returning home. You get to see your grandmother who wasn’t able to visit with duties at your penthouse and all your friends consumed by work.

And there was one other person. The one that you wanted to see the most, but you sent him home. It was Christmas- there was absolutely no way you would make him work, forced to stay next to you the whole day. (although, he wouldn’t be complaining, and neither would you.) You remember commanding him to stay home the night before, Christmas Eve, and celebrate with whoever he wanted. No matter how pleased you were when he protested, you make him promise to not worry about you and enjoy the day off.

“It’s Christmas, Jen.”

“Yes, but…”

“Go home and stop worrying so much- at least for one day, okay?” Your thumb softly smooths out his furrowed brow. “For me?”

Reluctantly, he responds, “Fine. As long as you promise to text me tomorrow night.”

You beam. “Of course, I promise.”

On the other side of town, Jeno checks his phone anxiously. He swears his anxiety (or possible separation issues?) has never been this bad.

“Dude, how many times are you gonna check your phone?” Haechan snorts, jumping over the couch to plop down next to him. “Every time it goes off you’re scrambling for it like you’re in the Hunger Games or whatever.” He slides even closer, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and jeno grimaces.

“Could it be," he taps his chin cheekily, "your secret girlfriend?”

When jeno’s ears turn red and he doesn’t respond, haechan’s eyes grow wide, contrary to Jen’s belief. “No way, is it actually? I was just joking but-“

“Leave him alone,” Mark shakes his head helplessly. “It's probably his work- you know he’s always on call. Give him a break,” mark finishes while leaving haechan to splutter and jeno to heave a sigh of relief.

Although jeno agrees with you, it was nice to finally see his friends and have a day off while celebrating Christmas, he can’t help but wonder what you’re up to. How are you? Are you home now? Are you alone- who’s celebrating with you? Is he the only one thinking this much about you?

Hours later, jeno finally returns home before midnight. His excuse to his friends? He had to wake up early tomorrow to work. Lame, yes, but he needed to see you. He exhales, finally in solitude after spending the whole day with his rowdy friends. Throwing his jacket on the couch, he lays on the bed before taking out his phone.

His stomach flips- two unread messages from you.

[11:38 pm] you: Hey jen

[11:38 pm] you: How was your Christmas?

[11:40 pm] jeno: it was good!

He sighs while typing out a response, before shaking his head and backspacing to write another.

[11:42 pm] jeno: are you free

[11:42 pm] you: Right now?

[11:42 pm] jeno: uh

[11:43 pm] jeno: yeah

If any bystander were to see the scene in front of them, they would almost believe it was a clip playing from a k-drama. Jeno smiles shyly, giggling at his phone as if he was a teenager talking to their crush.

[11:46 pm] you: Yeah, I’m free ❤️

Jeno gasps audibly, placing a hand on his chest as he lights up like a little child. No way, you sent a heart?

[11:46 pm] you: Sorry!

[11:46 pm] you: That was a typo…

He quite visibly deflates at your text. He presses his lips together in a thin line while his fingers briskly move across the screen.

[11:47 pm] jeno: then ill see you outside your place in 5 min?

[11:48 pm] you: Sure ❤️

Beaming at your next message, he throws his phone haphazardly somewhere while getting ready as fast as possible, scrambling all over his apartment.

[11:48 pm] you: That wasn’t an accident this time ;)

His breath floats away from him in the cold air, coming out in visible puffs while he runs towards your apartment building. It’s never once felt that long of a walk with you, but now it seems as if it stretched on for miles.

His legs come to a stop once he sees your figure just feet away. It’s far enough that you could barely shout to each other, but enough to see the expression on your faces. A wide split grin, eye-smiles, sparkling pupils, cheeks protruding so much it hurts.

It’s been a while. It’s taken a while, too. Jeno finally sees you. He finally sees your rarity-the one lone, twinkling star in the sky- and he never wants to lose it. The time it’s taken to build up the courage over fear is uncertain, but the sight of you in a matching set of purple pajamas with cute designs printed all over and is that his suit jacket that you’re wearing? Either way, he’s certain he can’t hold it back anymore (and probably couldn’t for much longer).

“I don’t think I can run right now,” you call out, and he laughs from his spot. Jeno looks on as you hold your arms open wide, so welcomingly, and he runs.

Right as he reaches you, he purposefully slows to embrace you in a gentle hug without hurting you.

“Welcome back, y/n,” he murmurs into your hair. You squeeze tighter, inhaling his comforting scent. Pulling back after a couple of moments, jeno looks down at your choice of outfits. “Wow,” he breathes, “you look beautiful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “In my pajamas?” He nods. “Of course.”

You look away, face burning, but the white powdery substance falling onto your face grabs your attention. Your head shoots up, as you look on delightedly. “Jeno! Look!”

He can only stare at you admiring the snowfall with a red nose and bright, twinkling eyes. You glance towards him, catching him in the middle of staring at you. You call his name out. Jeno bites his lip, taking one of your hands. Your face turns to one of confusion at the sudden change of atmosphere.

“Y/n.”

“Yeah?” He pulls you closer, taking in a deep breath before looking into your eyes.

“You mean a lot to me. Like, a whole fucking lot.”

Your eyes widen. Alarmed at the sudden confession, you bring your two cold hands up to hold his face, searching his eyes with a question hidden on your tongue.

On impulse, jeno leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. At first, you can’t move, only noting the warm and foreign sensation on your lips. Then it hits you.

Why aren’t you pushing him away? …why doesn’t it feel wrong?

At the lack of a response, jeno pulls back. You stare at each other for a second before he opens his mouth to say something, and you cut him off.

“Kiss me again,” you command, and he enthusiastically does. His arms wrap around you as you grip the sides of his jacket in your cold fingers, allowing warmth to envelop you both inside and out. The taste of his lips on yours becomes addicting, and you force yourself to stop.

Breaking part, you share bashful smiles. Jeno swallows.

“Merry Christmas, y/n. I didn’t really think about getting you a gift but….” he trails off.

You giggle, “Merry Christmas, and me neither.” You beam at each other, the unspoken feelings shared between you two.

“How do you feel?” Jeno asks, bringing you close to him as he admires the tiny snowflakes resting on your eyelashes.

Although it’s freezing outside, and there’s a big fat chance you could get caught by paparazzi right now, you could care less. You can’t help but reply with a tiny smile,

“i think i’m okay right now.”

p.s. there will be an epilogue released jan 28 ;))

ice ice baby- lee donghyuck

info: donghyuck x reader, hockey player!donghyuck, manager!reader, college au, enemies to lovers (gender neutral reader)

wc: 12.1k 

warnings: cursing, suggestive content (some hate making out), there’s an injury described but it’s not serious and it’s not graphic

(a/n: this took me way longer than i had anticipated due to writers block but i hope everyone enjoys it! also i am a very casual fan of hockey and i tried to do research on hockey especially ncaa hockey to make this realistic but this fic takes a lot of liberties with specific hockey rules/practices)

Donghyuck Lee is the extremely well-known ace of your university’s hockey team. The proclaimed prodigy, who waltzes through life with a seemingly unmatched level of confidence and ease. Admittedly very attractive and apparently equally talented at hockey, it was no surprise that he was practically a celebrity on campus and given infuriatingly special treatment throughout the school.

Hockey is a big deal at your university, even though you’ve never gotten the hype or attended a game, you still knew of many of the players and the typical rumors and whispers that surrounded them- all of which almost always included Donghyuck.

Donghyuck has a bit of a reputation that you had always looked upon with slight annoyance and then continued to totally ignore. You just assumed he was the typical jock with an over-inflated ego, whose every move was unjustifiably swooned over and praised. 

You never really gave hockey, Donghyuck Lee, or the spectacle he and others made out of himself and his talent, much thought- until you need a job. 

Weiterlesen

the, “his secret mate.” part in your fic where she took the bullet from neteyam had me tearing up huhuhu can we get the detail of their intimacy in relationship before that war? not always to be nsfw, but fluff with full of lovesick moments aarghhwbd

You and Neteyam Mate In Secret (Slight-NSFW / Comfort)

Prologue of "You Take The Bullet"

CW: nsfw implied ( and a little described ), right after his second birth ( he is now a tribe-observed man, and part of the People ), you and Neteyam are so in love, kinda magical ngl, reminder that Utral Aymokriyä is the place Jake and Neytiri mated, Neteyam is a consent king

"You skxawng! Where are you taking me?" you laughed, Neteyam's hand in yours as he ran through the forest with you, his trademark smile plastered on his face.

"You'll see," he teased, jumping off a large tree root and landing on the mossy ground.

You did your best to keep up, jumping as well, but you landed off balance, and were about to fall.

Neteyam noticed this and quickly turned around, yanking you toward him so you landed in his chest, instead of the mud.

You sighed, pulling your face out of his pecs, and resting on it instead.

You were tired.

This man had made the both of you sprint from Hometree, all the way to....wherever here was.

Technically, the both of you weren't even supposed to be out right now.

Neteyam had just had his Second Birth, and was supposed to be spending it with the People.

But through the commotion, he managed to sneak the both of you out.

"I must show you something. Come!" his words echoed in your head.

If Neteyam wanted to sneak out, then it must be something incredibly important.

"Irayo," you panted, breathless as you took your quick break.

A dark tint of blue rested on his cheeks as he nodded, his hands instinctively going to rest on your hips.

"Kea tìkin," he assured, averting his eyes from you so you could not see his blush.

Noticing the slight purple-ish glow that was shining from behind him, you lifted your head, peeking over his shoulder and gasping at the sight.

Utral Aymokriyä.

"Oh, Neteyam!" you gasped, quickly breaking from the hug and walking over to the large tree.

It stood tall, and proud, like the might of thousands lay hiding in it's branches.

Despite being Omaticaya, you had never been to this place. Though you had constantly told Neteyam how you dreamed of doing so one day.

Out-stretching your arms, you walked toward the base of the tree, smiling as you allowed all of it’s tendrils to rake over you, softly.

Neteyam did the same, but not without letting his gaze linger on you.

He couldn't help but smile as he watched you experience the tree in wonder.

You were adorable.

The tree bathed you in purple light, accentuating your every feature.

Your beauty was a sight to behold, that was what caught his attention first. 

Your face was sculputure-like, ethereal.

Even if he were to stare at your face for hours, he wouldn’t be able to find a single thing wrong. 

You laughed, dancing with a tendril of the tree as if it were another person.

And your voice. It came out so smooth and silky, like his favorite song on repeat.

Sitting down on the ground, you rested your hands on the ground, shutting your eyes and allowing yourself to feel the beautiful energy the tree was emitting.

It wasn’t just your physical features, either.

It was the way you carried yourself, the way you were strong, and tough, yet soft and kind for your people and Pandora.

You had this man weak in the knees every time you crossed paths, and it was getting to the point where it was affecting his day-to-day life.

All he thought of was you. Eat, sleep, breathe, repeat. You.

You were a distraction, but a beautiful one. One that deserved to be protected by every ounce of his being.

"My mother took me here when I was no older than a baby," Neteyam started, walking over and sitting down next to you.

"She said this was a place for prayers to be heard. ....And sometimes answered."

He took his queue, making tsaheylu with a soft sigh, before turning back to you, who was watching him in peaceful, silent awe.

It made him blush.

You did the same, a soft gasp leaving you lips as you shut your eyes, the songs and chants of past peoples dancing through your ears, as clear as day.

When you opened your eyes again, Neteyam chuckled at your child-like expression, your mouth slightly gaped in wonder.

“I can hear them,” you nodded, eyes trained on the tendril you were bonded with.

Neteyam disconnected the bond, and looked up at the mighty tree, your gaze burning holes into his face.

"My mother told me that now I am truly one of the People, I can make my bow out of the wood of Hometree.....and choose a woman," he cheesed, the thought of you being his mate bringing a smile to his face.

But you did not think the same.

Oh. He has already chosen.

You expression fell, but you did your best to keep your smile happy.

"Who are you going to choose? We have many good women for a future Olo'eyktan," you tearfully recommended, a quiet gasp leaving you lips as a atokirina floated down to you, resting in your palms.

Neteyam snapped his head over to you, confused.

What in the world are you talking about?

"Eyati is a good hunter."

"I do not want Eyati," he quickly shut down, looking at you intently.

Lovingly.

"Oh," you nodded. He didn't want a huntress, then.

"Ilyena is a good dancer."

Neteyam internally facepalmed.

You were not understanding.

He thought he was being quite obvious with his admiration.

His frequent touches, talking of finding a woman, taking you to a spot where people literally go to mate.

You were the only one he wants. The only one he could ever want.

What else would he have to do to get that through your head?

Once the atokirina flew away, you returned your hand to the earth, where Neteyam smoothly interlocked his with yours.

"I do not think you are understanding. I have already chosen," he smiled, looking down at your conjoined hands.

"Oh," you sighed, averting your eyes from him. "Who is the lucky woman?"

Oh, for Eywa's sake.

He groaned, cupping your face in his hand and turning you to face him, where he roughly landed his lips on yours, practically knocking the wind out of you.

At first, you were shocked. All this talk of women, and now he was kissing you?

But you decided to let a good thing be.

You kissed back, matching his roughness as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

His hands immediately went to your waist, resting his hands on your hips as he pulled out from the kiss, staring at you like a lovesick fool.

And his heart seemed to pick up speed when he saw that you were looking at him the exact same way, a beautiful smile on your face.

It seems you liked it better when he showed, not told.

He would remember that for the future.

"(y/n), it is you. You are the woman I have chosen. I cannot think of anyone better to be at my side," he beamed, switching his gaze to the glowing tendrils around him, along with the many atrokirina that decided to make an arrival.

"Do you not see? Eywa has chosen us for each other."

You were on the verge of happy tears.

You had loved this man for so, so, so long, and so hard. And to hear that he has loved you with the same intensity, if not more, was something that warmed you from the inside out.

"I see you, my Neteyam," you smiled, cupping his face in your hands, resting your forehead on his.

"I see you, my love," he smiled back, giving your lips a peck.

It wasn't enough.

As he pulled back, you chased him, attaching your lips once more, throwing your arms over his shoulders.

He groaned, his hands softly caressing your hips as he kissed back with just as much fervor.

"My Neteyam," you sighed, trailing your kisses from his lips, down to his jawline.

He understood your quiet plea, shifting his position so he sat on his knees, before lifting you into his lap.

With this new angle, he peppered your chest with loving, heavy kisses, making you sigh once more.

You raked your hands through his hair, one sensually trailing down his braid and carefully holding up his kuru.

Using your other hand, you found yours, and were about you connect them when Neteyam stopped you.

"My love, are you sure? We do not have to do this if you are not ready," he asked, firmly.

Don't get him wrong. He wanted do to this more than anything in the world.

Having you in his arms, kissing him like this, was his greatest dream come true.

But just because it was his, did not mean it was yours.

And he wanted you to do this of your own volition.

"I am ready, Neteyam. I have always been ready," you assured, resting your forehead on his as you landed another heavy kiss on his lips.

With that, he nodded, and you made tsaheylu.

And the moan you two set loose surely reached the stars.

The feeling that enveloped the both of you was too much.

You could feel everything the other was feeling perfectly. Their heartbeat, their longing, their love.

Oh, the feeling of Neteyam's love was flooding your senses so much it was overwhelming.

Every piece of exposed skin he touched burned with fiery heat, but it felt so, so good.

You had no idea he loved you to this extent.

And as he lay you down on the mossy ground, him placing feather-light kisses across your exposed chest, the vision of children flashed through your head.

His vision.

They were your children, the kids running around the tent as the two of you lay in the corner, curled into each other.

Even in a moment so intimate, even as he entered you, his thoughts still traveled to something so wholesome and domestic.

It made you blush uncontrollably, and he sensed this.

"I....hnngh...see you, my (y/n). And there...fuck....is no one else I can see to be the mother of my children...shit...," he said huskily, peppering kisses on your shoulder with each thrust.

As tears welled in your eyes, you tightened your grip around his neck, another moan escaping you lips.

"I see you....ohhh!....my Neteyam," you sighed, bringing your hands to rest on his chest.

But for the first time, the both of you felt like that word didn't express enough.

Your love for each other expanded farther than just I see you, it was indescribable.

There was no Na'vi word for it.

But there was an English one.

One Jake had taught both of you, respectfully.

"I love you!" the two of you exclaimed in unison as you finished together, Neteyam making his final thrust.

And as you both lay on the ground, intertwined, coming down from your high, Neteyam said something that made you feel all the happiness in the world.

"I am with you now, (y/n)," he sighed, a tired smile on his face.

"We are mated for life."

ice ice baby- lee donghyuck

info: donghyuck x reader, hockey player!donghyuck, manager!reader, college au, enemies to lovers (gender neutral reader)

wc: 12.1k 

warnings: cursing, suggestive content (some hate making out), there’s an injury described but it’s not serious and it’s not graphic

(a/n: this took me way longer than i had anticipated due to writers block but i hope everyone enjoys it! also i am a very casual fan of hockey and i tried to do research on hockey especially ncaa hockey to make this realistic but this fic takes a lot of liberties with specific hockey rules/practices)

Donghyuck Lee is the extremely well-known ace of your university’s hockey team. The proclaimed prodigy, who waltzes through life with a seemingly unmatched level of confidence and ease. Admittedly very attractive and apparently equally talented at hockey, it was no surprise that he was practically a celebrity on campus and given infuriatingly special treatment throughout the school.

Hockey is a big deal at your university, even though you’ve never gotten the hype or attended a game, you still knew of many of the players and the typical rumors and whispers that surrounded them- all of which almost always included Donghyuck.

Donghyuck has a bit of a reputation that you had always looked upon with slight annoyance and then continued to totally ignore. You just assumed he was the typical jock with an over-inflated ego, whose every move was unjustifiably swooned over and praised. 

You never really gave hockey, Donghyuck Lee, or the spectacle he and others made out of himself and his talent, much thought- until you need a job. 

Weiterlesen

Lights, Camera, F*ck You → LDH

🎥 PAIRING: Haechan x Fem!Reader

🎥 CONTENTS: Hollywood!au, co-star!Haechan, flangst, swearing, enemies to lovers, smut [all suggestive scene headings are marked with a star (★). They’re not necessary to the plot, so you can choose whether to read it SFW or NSFW]

🎥 WORD COUNT: 31k

🎥A/N: Inspired by the lyrics ‘don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms’ for @legendnct​’s Bingo Collab. Find the character/film vocabulary guide here. 

🎥 EPILOGUE: A Night at the Oscars

INT. BYUN STUDIOS - DAY [AUGUST]

“You’re kind of a princess, you know that?” He takes a drag from his cigarette, leaning back lazily, slick honey-colored hair and leather jacket stark against the cherry red of his Mustang.

“And you’re a little dangerous,” you say. His eyes follow as you walk towards him, plucking the cigarette from his hand and placing it between puckered lips. When you pull back, exhaling a thin stream of smoke, the paper is stained a shiny pink from your lip gloss. “Mama warned me about guys like you, you know.”

“Yeah?” he leans forward, one hand sliding to your hip, the gesture casual, yet possessive. “And what did she say?”

“She said you’ll break my heart.”

For one heartbeat, then another, he stares at you, then he pulls you roughly towards him, crushing his lips to yours. He tastes of salt, heat, just a tinge of nicotine, which sets your lips tingling as you fall into his kiss. Your hands press into his chest, leather and vinyl crinkling under your fingers…

“And cut!” The soundstage bell rings, and the muffled sound of check the gate sounds as various PAs and PD personnel run forward. You and Haechan break apart, already staring daggers as a PA approaches, holding two windbreakers.

“What the hell was that?” you hiss, eyes narrowing as you allow her to place the coat around your shoulders. Haechan just hands the prop cigarette to the PA, pulling a slim Juul from his costume jacket and taking a long hit, smoke pearly white in the warm summer air. “I almost fell.”

“Doesn’t matter, they would’ve called it in a second anyway,” he says, wiping a smudge of gloss from his mouth with ill-disguised disgust. “You know you kiss like a fish, right?”

Weiterlesen

Shield || jjk

⇢ pairing: security guard!jungkook x bartender!reader ⇢ genre: fluff, romance, smut ⇢ word count: 18.6k ⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex, rough sex, lots of dirty talk it’s pretty filthy, a brief scene of harassment (it’s not graphic, no touching involved), spanking, hair pulling, jungkook has a big dick, jungkook is the cutest shyest boy to ever exist, reader and jk blush A LOT, jk in a leather jacket that’s about it ⇢ summary: An unfortunate, messy situation involving a drunk asshole not taking no for an answer prompts your boss to hire a new security guard to stay near, just for safe-keeping. When all you were expecting was a guy in his late thirties who couldn’t bother to smile, much less be friendly, you’re pleasantly surprised by the cute, rather shy guy whose job is to keep his eyes on you and protect you for five nights a week.

A/N: I am SOSOSOSO happy with this fic. I had so much fun writing it. This was written in a couple of days where I just sat for straight HOURS writing like,,,,5k words a sitting. I love this with my whole heart and I hope y’all do too. Please, let me know what you think, feedback is, as always, very much appreciated!

Banner was made by the wonderful angel @mikrokosm​ thank you sm baby!!! this looks so much better than the trashy one i made asjsksj

tag list: @sscarletrrose @giadalin @out-of-jams @kookoo-kachoo @teresaisla @wickizer @fakeleaves @el-mc @smol1 @luisafuchs @athenakyle @claude-y 

Weiterlesen

Legend

The man you help one day insists that he owes you everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Selkie! JK, smut, angst

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, knotting

It’s early, but you prefer walking along the beach when there are less people. The sun’s up, barely, there’s a light salty breeze blowing your hair in your face and there’s movement out of the corner of your eye. 

Three men fighting over what seems to be – a fur coat?

You don’t want to get involved but two of the men are fully dressed and the other one is naked so it seems unfair that the pair are trying to take the fur coat off him. 

‘Hey!’ you shout, before you can talk yourself out of it. ‘Back off!’

You wave your phone. ‘I’m calling the police!’ 

The two men exchange a look and shove the naked man into the sand. Then they’re off. 

You approach the naked man warily. ‘Are you ok?’ 

He looks up at you, dark hair in his face, almost covering his eyes. He’s slim but there’s bulk to his shoulders and arms, a ridge of muscle along his abs. 

He gets up suddenly, overbalances, and you take a step back so he doesn’t fall into you. 

The fur coat’s back on his shoulders, you’re glad for him given, judging by his bare legs under the hem of the coat, he’s stark naked otherwise. 

‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘For helping me.’ 

‘Don’t worry,’ you say. You smile and move past him to continue your walk. 

He says, ‘I owe you everything.’ 

His words make you turn back, slightly nervous at the seriousness of his tone. 

‘You’ve very welcome,’ you say, ‘I didn’t really do anything.’

You’re a few metres down the beach when you realise he’s trailing behind you. 

‘I have to return your kindness,’ he says, when you stop dead and turn around to look him fully in the face. 

Shit. What is this guy on?

‘You can return it by living your life,’ you say, nodding encouragingly. ‘Away from me.’ 

He considers this carefully. ‘Do you feel threatened by me?’ he asks, keeping his distance. 

You eyeball him from the top of his mussed hair, to the ridiculous fur coat he’s got on in the middle of summer, to his bare feet, and can honestly say that you don’t. 

‘You don’t owe me anything,’ you insist.

‘Can I try to repay you?’ he asks. He pushes his hair away from his face, like seeing more of him will change your mind. 

He’s got an interesting face, wide eyes, beautiful skin, a mole under his bottom lip that draws your gaze. 

You sigh. ‘Can you do yard work?’ 

***

Half an hour later your new acquaintance is standing beside you, regarding the mess that was your grandmother’s yard quizzically. 

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ you say. ‘This isn’t worth it. You’re free to go, you don’t have to help me with this.’ 

‘That’s not what I was thinking,’ he says. He looks at you worriedly. ‘How would you have done this alone?’ 

‘It would have taken me longer without your help,’ you allow. 

‘Your hands are small,’ he says, critically, brows furrowed. ‘And your arms —’ 

‘And you’re wearing a fur coat in summer, there’s no judgement here,’ you interrupt, raising an eyebrow at him. 

‘It’s a pelt,’ he tells you, huffy. 

‘There’s probably something up in the loft that’ll fit you,’ you say. ‘Stay here. I’ll go up.’ 

When you get back down to the yard, you’re greeted by the twin mounds of his very firm buttocks. 

‘Holy shit. Get some clothes on,’ you say, turning your eyes up hurriedly as he approaches you. 

‘I see people on the beach wearing tiny clothes that don’t cover much more than this,’ he tells you. 

‘Well you’re not on the beach, you’re in my yard. And in this house we wear clothes,’ you retort. 

You shove the bundle of clothes you’ve found into his chest, and turn your back as he gets dressed. 

When you look around again, thankfully, he’s decent. 

Your grandfather’s clothes are a size too large but it’s probably just as well given your new friend’s penchant for getting naked at the slightest opportunity. 

‘Just to be clear,’ you clarify. ‘This isn’t indentured servitude just because I helped you this morning. You can go whenever you want, ok? You don’t owe me a thing.’ 

‘I owe you everything,’ he says solemnly. 

‘Are you even listening,’ you grumble. 

You decide you’ve spent enough time arguing with him. He looks strong, and willing, and the yard isn’t going to clear itself. 

He works hard, genuinely like he believes he owes you something for scaring those guys off, carrying the weeds you clear out to the bins, seemingly tireless.

By lunchtime you’ve made decent headway. You get up, ignoring the way your knees protest after kneeling in the dirt for so long, and say, ‘come in, let’s take a break.’

‘I don’t need a break,’ he tells you earnestly. ‘I’ll help you finish this.’

You furrow your brow at him. ‘We’re not carrying on unless you eat something —‘ 

You realise you don’t know his name.

‘Jungkook,’ he supplies helpfully, ‘of the Jeon clan.’

You stare at him. ‘I’m Y/N L/N.’

‘Clanless,’ he murmurs to himself, nodding like that explains things.

You frown. ‘We don’t have clans where I come from,’ you start, and then you close your mouth. Why are you arguing with this dude?

‘Fine, Jungkook, let’s have lunch.’

***

For someone who didn’t want to take a break, Jungkook sure seems hungry. 

You watch, bemused, as he wolfs down his sandwich and salad.

‘More?’ you ask, holding out half of your own sandwich. 

He accepts, and the sandwich disappears in three quick bites.

When he’s finally satiated, you go back outside and get back to work.

The sun is starting to drop when you turn to him a little awkwardly. 

‘Hey, Jungkook. Thanks so much for your help today. It would have taken me ages to do this myself.’

He looks at you seriously. ‘You shouldn’t be doing this yourself.’

‘Yeah well, I’m clanless remember?’ you say, jokingly.

He shakes his head. ‘You need help.’

‘You’re not the first person to tell me that,’ you offer.

Jungkook’s unamused. 

‘I’ll help you,’ he says, like that decides it. 

You want to keep arguing but you’re tired, and it’s late, and he does good work.

‘I’ll be back in the morning,’ Jungkook says. He’s got redressed in his pelt, placed the folded clothes you loaned him neatly on the porch. 

You open your mouth and shut it again, and Jungkook takes this as assent.

‘Wait,’ you say, as he walks away.

He turns back to you, and there’s something about the way his profile looks in the fading light that makes your heart beat a little faster. 

He’s beautiful.

‘What do you want for breakfast?’ you ask.

He turns fully to face you, eyes crinkled in a smile. ‘You don’t have to feed me. I’m the one who owes you, remember?’

‘You honestly don’t—‘

You stop talking when you realise he’s too far away to hear you anyway.

***

The next morning, you’re awakened by noises coming from the back garden. You stumble to the window and are greeted by your new friend Jungkook’s shirtless back. 

His muscles ripple in the sunlight, and he’s already worked up a sweat somehow. 

You lift up the sash window, and he turns at the sound. 

His face lights up at the sight of you, and you’d be lying if you said the sight doesn’t make you feel a little giddy. 

‘What –’ 

Your voice comes out as a croak, so you clear your throat and start again. 

‘What do you want for breakfast?’ 

‘Surprise me,’ he says cheerfully. 

He turns back to the thatch of brambles he’s hacking through. 

‘Hey,’ you call again. 

You swipe a hand over your dressing table, grab the sunscreen you apply religiously. 

You toss it out the window, at his feet. 

‘Put sunscreen on.’ 

Jungkook picks it up like he’s unaware of the concept of sun protection. 

‘Can you show me how to use this?’ he asks. 

He’s looking at you quizzically, all bare chest and gleaming skin, and you back away from the window before you say something you’ll live to regret.

You’ve got breakfast in the pan on your grandmother’s old Aga when Jungkook pops his head in the back door.

‘It’s hot today,’ he says.

‘You look hot,’ you agree.

Then you realise what you’ve said. 

Thankfully, Jungkook seems to have missed it completely, walking into your kitchen, looking around curiously. 

He stops in front of a painting on the wall of a lighthouse by the sea. 

‘This looks like it was painted around here,’ he says. ‘I’ve been past this lighthouse.’

‘Would you like the painting?’ you offer. 

At his surprised look, you hasten to explain. 

‘I live in the city. I came here because I inherited this house from my grandmother after she died.’

You wave a hand. ‘I’ve got to pack up her things, get rid of what I can, and then sell this place.’

‘If you like the painting then please take it,’ you say. ‘It’s got no sentimental value to it.’’

‘I don’t have a lot of things,’ Jungkook replies.

He watches as you serve up two plates, lay the table. 

He takes a seat opposite you. 

There’s silence for a bit as you both eat, then Jungkook asks, ‘Isn’t there someone who can help you? It seems a big job.’

‘My parents live abroad,’ you tell him. ‘I don’t have any siblings. Just me.’ 

‘Your mate?’ Jungkook suggests, around a mouthful of eggs. 

You nearly choke on your coffee. ‘I don’t have a – mate, at least not in the sense you mean. I have friends, and they’re stopping by in a few weeks.’ 

You shrug. ‘It’s quite a personal job. I want to make sure my grandmother’s things are handled properly.’ 

You look out the window. Sitting, like this, you can’t see the sea, but if you were to stand, you could see the ocean from every window of this cottage. 

‘I used to spend my summers here, with her,’ you tell Jungkook. 

‘I’ve lived here my whole life,’ Jungkook says. 

You exchange a smile. 

‘I can help you, with anything you want,’ Jungkook tells you earnestly. 

You look at him for a long moment. ‘I can pay you.’ 

Jungkook almost looks offended. ‘I told you I owe you for helping me,’ he insists. 

‘You don’t owe me a thing.’ 

‘I owe you everything,’ he says again, so firmly you don’t have the heart to argue it. 

You get up. ‘I need to stop by the store and get more supplies this morning.’ 

Jungkook says, ‘I can get the brambles cleared today.’ 

You hesitate, then decide to ask. ‘Do you want anything from the store? Is there anything you like to eat?’ 

Jungkook’s smile is shy, a contrast from the fact that he’s parading around shirtless. 

‘I eat anything,’ he tells you, but you get the sense he appreciates that you asked. 

He’s turning to go back into your garden when you stop him. 

‘You should put sun protection on,’ you tell him. 

You squeeze sunscreen onto your palm, show him how to rub it in.

‘On my back, too?’ Jungkook asks, once he’s covered his face. 

You look at him carefully, trying to gauge how serious he is.

‘Yes, on your chest too.’ 

Your voice comes out unusually high-pitched, and Jungkook gives you a funny look as he rubs suncreen into his chest.

You’re trying not to stare at him, acting like it’s the first time you’ve noticed the glorious sea view outside.

‘Can you help me with my back?’ Jungkook asks.

‘Sure,’ you say, gulping a little.

You dot sunscreen on your palm, start rubbing it into his shoulders. His defined back muscles flex under your hands as you rub more cream in.

Jungkook looks down at the waistband of your grandfather’s shorts thoughtfully, and you toss the sunscreen on the table, grab the keys hurriedly.

‘I’ll get you a hat, too,’ you call as you practically run out the front door.

‘See you later Jungkook!’

***

The line at the store’s longer than you expected, you’re looking around for the shortest queue when you spot him.

‘Y/N!’ 

‘Namjoon!’

You step into Namjoon’s hug. He’s always been taller than you but in recent years his build has filled out. You can barely get your arms around him now.

‘I heard you were back,’ he says, smiling at you, friendly. Just for a moment, a shadow crosses his face.

‘I’m sorry about your grandma,’ he says.

‘Thank you,’ you reply. You pull your arms down, clasp your hands awkwardly together. 

‘I’m clearing out her old things,’ you tell him.

‘Need a hand?’

‘I’ve got someone helping me,’ you say.

Seeing the change in Namjoon’s expression, you hasten to explain.

‘I met him yesterday,’ you say. ‘Some guys were hassling him on the beach. He was grateful so he’s helping me clear out the yard.’

Namjoon frowns. He’s one of your childhood friends, you used to look forward to seeing him in the summer.

‘Is he an ok guy?’

‘He seems perfectly nice,’ you say. ‘He doesnt seem like a creep or anything.’

‘Well, you can always call me if you need anything, ok? Maybe we can grab dinner one of these days.’

‘I’d like that,’ you say. 

Namjoon dimples at you. ‘Maybe this weekend?’

‘Sure,’ you agree.

You pay for your things, load up your car and, on impulse, pick up ice cream for you and Jungkook on the way back.

You’re holding your cups of ice-cream carefully, walking around the side of the house to the back, when you hear voices.

You feel a twinge of alarm as you round the corner to see Jungkook and another man you don’t know having what seems to be a heated conversation.

‘Jungkook?’ you call.

The man you don’t know turns and gives you a long look. 

It doesn’t seem friendly.

You’re suddenly aware that you don’t know Jungkook well, you don’t know this man at all, and your nearest neighbour is over a mile away.

Jungkook steps forward, like he senses your apprehension. ‘This is Jimin,’ he tells you. ‘He’s part of my clan.’

Jimin gives you another searching look, but he eventually says, ‘Hi.’

Alarm bells are going off in your head.

You take a step back.

‘My friend Namjoon’s coming over,’ you tell Jungkook and Jimin.

It’s a complete lie, but it’s all you have.

Jungkook says, very gently, ‘Jimin’s leaving. He just came to see where I was.’

You take another step back, ice-cream forgotten.

‘Sure,’ you say. You’re trying your best to sound normal, past the rising panic.

You turn and head back to your car.

It’s only after the car door is closed behind you that you finally feel like you can draw a breath.

The rapping on the window makes you scream.

It takes you a moment to realise it’s Jungkook, another moment to notice that he’s chosen the passenger seat window to knock on even though you’re in the driver’s seat. 

Like he wanted to give you distance.

You lower the window.

‘I didn’t mean to scare you,’ he starts, and he sounds so genuinely upset about it that it goes a long way towards assuaging your fears.

‘No, I —‘ 

You sigh and give up on protesting when you realise it was pretty obvious you were uneasy.

‘It’s ok, Jungkook.’

He says, hesitantly, ‘I want to stay and help you, but if me being here is making you uncomfortable, I’ll go.’

You don’t know how to make this decision now that the ball’s in your court.

So you postpone it, like you’ve done with so many other decisions in your life.

You unlock the car doors. 

‘Do you want ice cream?’

***

Jungkook, it turns out, likes ice cream quite a lot. Somehow, you’re not surprised.

He’s scraping the sides of the cup like he wants to get every single lump, so you pass him your half-eaten ice cream.

He accepts immediately, wide-eyed and so thrilled that it amuses you.

It’s hard to imagine him ever hurting anyone.

‘What’s your favourite flavour?’ you ask.

‘All of them,’ he replies, chocolate smeared at the corner of his mouth.

You laugh. 

‘I’m sorry about Jimin,’ Jungkook says.

He’s not looking at you now, swirling his tiny neon spoon in his cup. 

‘He’s scary when he’s angry, even though he’s so small.’

He hadn’t seemed small to you, although you guess Jungkook’s bigger. 

‘What’s he mad about?’ you ask.

‘He doesn’t trust people,’ Jungkook answers. He glances at you. ‘He thought maybe you were forcing me to help you.’

You snort. ‘How?’

Jungkook doesn’t answer for a moment.

‘Your grandfather,’ he says, changing the subject. ‘There aren’t many photos of him.’

‘He left my grandmother,’ you say. 

In all honesty, you don’t know much more than that. It had all happened when you were very young, your mother hadn’t told you anything about it, and your grandmother had always refused to discuss it.

Jungkook reaches out, fiddles with the dial on the car radio.

‘We should bring the groceries in,’ you say, remembering.

‘I’ll carry them,’ Jungkook insists.

He looks affronted when you try to take a bag off him.

‘I’m much stronger than you,’ he says, huffy.

‘Fine. Carry it all then. Can you make lunch too?’

***

You end up fixing lunch for you and Jungkook with leftovers and deli meat. You sit on the swing on your grandmother’s porch as you eat. 

It’s a hot day, you’re grateful for the light breeze even though it’s barely making the leaves rustle.

Jungkook glances at you as he takes a swig of water, and you hold his gaze. 

‘I’ve got some guys coming to collect the clippings and yard trash next week,’ you say. ‘Think we’ll be done by then?’ 

Jungkook nods, earnestly. ‘We should be.’ 

‘Do you have another job or something? Don’t feel obliged to stay, like I said you’ve helped me so much already.’ 

Jungkook says, firmly, ‘I owe you a debt, please let me pay it.’ 

You search his face. ‘How will I know when the debt is paid?’ 

‘I’ll know,’ Jungkook says. He seems unconcerned, sure of himself. ‘I’ll know, and I’ll take my leave then.’ 

‘What if I get sick of you before then?’ you ask, teasing. 

‘Unlikely,’ Jungkook says, confident. ‘I’m well-liked.’ 

You frown a little as you mull this over, only to catch him watching you, a spark of mischief in his eye. 

‘Are you fucking with me?’ 

Jungkook blinks. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ 

He’s all round-eyed innocence as you look at him suspiciously. 

Finally you get up. ‘Come on, we’d better carry on, then.’ 

***

You’re up in the loft, trying not to feel overwhelmed at the sheer amount of things around you.

The trappings of a lifetime.

You pick up the item closest to you, a small wooden box with a mother of pearl inlay on the lid.

Inside, there’s a pretty champagne pearl set on a thin gold chain. 

You smooth the pad of your thumb over the pearl, admiring the way it gleams even in the gloom of the loft. You put the necklace around your neck, set the box aside, and reach for the next thing.

In the next few hours, you sort old clothes, separate items into charity and junk piles and start bringing things down.

You’re three steps from the bottom of the folding ladder when you lose your balance.

You don’t have time to make any sound when you’re steadied by strong arms. 

‘Easy, I’ve got you,’ says Jungkook.

He helps you down the last few steps, takes the armful of clothes off you.

‘Thanks,’ you say, gratefully.

‘I’ll bring things down,’ Jungkook says. ‘Is there a lot up there?’

‘We can take turns,’ you say. ‘There’s a lot.’

Jungkook mutters something about human materialism which you don’t quite understand but you’re distracted by the way he looks. 

His neck is stretched, the line of his jaw sharp as he peers up the steps. His profile is beautiful.

He looks back at you, catches you staring at him.

‘I did tell you, didn’t I, that I was well-liked?’ he says, a twinkle in his eye.

He’s definitely fucking with you.

You say, casual, ‘you did mention that.’

Your eyes meet.

Then his gaze drops to the pearl necklace you have on.

‘Was that your grandmother’s?’ he asks.

He reaches out, hesitates, then, when you nod, lifts the pendant gently.

‘It’s a natural pearl,’ he says, something like awe in his voice. ‘These are very rare.’

‘My grandmother loved the sea,’ you say, your voice dropped to a whisper, you’re not sure why.

Jungkook looks down at you. Like this, he’s so close you can see a tiny beauty mark on his lower lip, a small scar on his cheek.

Imperfections that only make him seem more perfect.

He’s not touching you at all, but you can feel the warmth he radiates. 

For the first time, you notice he smells faintly like the sea.

You like it.

Jungkook’s gaze is so intense you have to look away.

He lets go of your necklace, and takes a step back.

You try not to feel disappointed.

‘I need to go,’ Jungkook says. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’

‘Sure,’ you say, too quickly, with a nervousness you can’t explain.

He turns, descends the stairs.

You push the fold up ladder to the loft up, re-fasten the catch, trying to calm your fluttering heart.

‘Hey,’ Jungkook says.

He’s climbed back up, is holding out his pelt to you. 

‘Can you keep this for me until tomorrow?’

‘Sure,’ you say, lifting your arms out for it.

It’s heavier than you expected. 

‘I’ll keep it somewhere safe,’ you reassure him.

Jungkook says, ‘I know you will.’

He smiles at you, and jogs back downstairs. He stops at the foot of the stairs, waves, and then he’s off.

***

You’re not sure what to do with Jungkook’s pelt when you go to bed but you know it’s important to him, so you end up laying it at the foot of your bed.

It’s hot and sticky tonight, the air ruffling the thin gauzy curtains isn’t providing any respite.

There’s a knot, low down in your groin, a neediness between your legs.

Unbidden, Jungkook’s face floats into your head.

His pretty eyes. The way his jaw clenches whenever he catches you doing something that he thinks should be his job.

The feel of his arms caging you in when he stopped you from falling down the steps earlier.

You look down at your body. Your nipples are hard, pressing against the gossamer thin cotton of your sleep tank. You run a hand over your breasts, pinch restlessly at a nipple.

Your moan sounds obscene in the quiet of your room.

Your cunt tightens, and you slide a hand between your legs for relief.

The pads of your fingers press against your swollen bud, and you moan again.

Jungkook’s naked back, muscles glistening with sweat.

The feel of his bare, sun-warmed skin under your fingers.

You’re breathing faster now, bucking your hips into your own hand as you press two fingers into your warmth.

You imagine Jungkook’s hands inside you instead of your own.

His smirk when he told you he was ‘well-liked’.

You don’t doubt it.

Your need builds as you touch yourself, legs splayed, toes pointed.

Your foot touches Jungkook’s pelt, and you sit up, breasts heaving, nipples pointed, hard.

You reach down for Jungkook’s pelt, bring it up to your face, and inhale. 

It smells like him. 

You pull it to your chest as you finger yourself, and the friction of it on your sensitive nipples tips you over the edge.

You come with a whine, a gasp, gushing stickiness between your thighs, thinking of Jungkook.

***

You wake up late the next morning, the sun’s high in the sky by the time you get out of bed.

You look out the window and see Jungkook’s now familiar back in a corner of the garden.

‘Morning!’ you call before you remember exactly what you did with Jungkook’s pelt last night.

You don’t wait for a reply, leaning back from the window quickly. 

Thankfully you hadn’t got any cum on his pelt. 

Shit. What got into you?

You groan inwardly as you traipse to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

You run lightly down the stairs, only to skid to a stop when you see Jungkook lifting his pelt from where you put it on the couch before you went to sleep.

He’s been sniffing it.

You blink, straighten your back, and say, brightly, ‘What do you want for breakfast, Jungkook?’

You do, after all, come from a long line of women who’ve made a lifetime about not talking about things they don’t wish to talk about.

Jungkook looks at you, a little sweaty, dazed. His pupils are huge, his eyes dark.

‘Anything,’ he says. His voice has dropped to a timbre you haven’t heard before from him, low, almost a rasp.

‘Sure,’ you say, turning smartly to the kitchen.

It’s a good twenty minutes before Jungkook joins you in the kitchen.

He looks flushed, damp like he’s been splashing water on his face, but he looks more like his usual self.

You put a plate of pancakes in front of him. Your hand brushes his accidentally, and he moves his hand back like he’s been scalded. 

‘Shit, sorry,’ you say, flustered by his reaction. 

Unsure what else to do, you take a seat opposite him, and start eating. 

After a moment, he starts eating too. 

You give yourself a moment so that your voice won’t betray you and then say, ‘I’m going to be clearing out the loft again today.’

Jungkook takes a moment to reply. 

‘I can help bring things down.’

‘Great. Thank you.’

You push the remaining pancakes towards him. 

Jungkook clears his throat. 

‘Have you, uh, done something to your hair? You look pretty.’

‘Nothing special,’ you answer.

You flick your gaze his way. 

‘I’m well-liked too.’

Jungkook nearly chokes on the mouthful of pancakes he’s chewing.

He gulps down water, eyes watering.

You smile at him as you clear away your plate. 

***

Jungkook grunts as he sets a box down next to you.

You’re trying hard not to notice exactly how he’s worked up a light sweat, just enough to make his skin glow and his t-shirt stick to his torso.

Jungkook lifts his arms over his head, stretches. The hem of his t-shirt lifts two inches above the waist of his jeans. 

You fight the sudden urge to bite his taut skin.

Jungkook rakes a hand through his damp hair. It’s wavier today, curling around his face prettily.

You’re struck by the duality of his pretty face and his distinctly masculine body. 

To hide the warmth in your cheeks, you look down into the box he’s just brought down.

There’s a stack of letters, shoved haphazardly into torn envelopes. 

You pick one up and begin to read.

Dearest,

I thought of you today. When Ara gets mad, she furrows her brows and tilts her head, and she looks exactly like you. 

I know we chose this life, but it doesn’t make it any less hard.

All my love, always,

Dasom

You wonder why the letter’s with your grandmother and not your grandfather, if he ever got to see it.

You pick up the next.

Dearest heart,

Your uncle stopped by today, and as you can probably guess, he didn’t have any pleasantries to share.

One day I’ll be kinder, but today is not that day. 

I shooed him off with the driftwood you salvaged from the cove.

You would have been proud of me.

Look after yourself, my love, I cannot wait for when you come back to me.

All my love, always,

Dasom

You smile to yourself, amused. Your grandmother was dainty, with the petite stature of many women of her generation, and yet somehow it isn’t a stretch to imagine her shooing off a man twice her size.

Beneath the letter is a photograph, a faded black and white, of your grandparents. You smile fondly at it, at the way your grandmother’s smiling brightly at your stoic-looking grandfather. 

You notice something just in the frame that gives you a jolt of recognition. At their feet, what you thought initially was a rug looks on closer inspection to be a fur skin of sorts.

It reminds you, oddly, of Jungkook’s pelt.

A shadow falls over you.

‘Are those your grandparents?’ 

You look up, startled, and the photograph slips from your hand.

Jungkook leans down to pick it up, looks at the photo. He blinks, frowns a little.

‘They’re my grandparents,’ you tell him.

Jungkook asks, with a new note in his voice, ‘Why is there a pelt in this photograph?’

You have no idea.

‘Was one of your grandparents a selkie?’ 

You blink, totally confused.

‘What’s a selkie?’

Jungkook’s examining the photo closely. ‘It looks like the pelt’s your grandfather’s size.’

‘Rewind,’ you demand. ‘What’s a selkie?’

Jungkook looks at you like he’s debating something in his head. 

Finally, he says, ‘I can show you. We’ll have to walk down to the sea.’

***

It’s a glorious late summer day, you can feel your confusion and curiosity lifting as you and Jungkook walk down your grandmother’s path to the beach.

He’s got his pelt with him, slung carelessly over his shoulder. 

His steps are lighter the closer you get to the sea, it’s like he feels as unburdened as you.

When you get to the water’s edge he stops, turns to you.

‘Will you wait for me?’ he asks. ‘I’m about to show you a lot, I’m worried about how you might react, so will you wait here until I come back to you?’

He’s so serious about it, you can’t protest.

‘Where are you going?’ you ask.

‘I won’t be far,’ Jungkook says. ‘But I promise, I’ll come back to you.’

He’s already slipping off his clothes, barenaked in the sun, and you avert your eyes hastily.

‘When you said you had a lot to show me—-‘ you start.

Jungkook turns his head. He smiles, more than a hint of mischief in his gaze. 

‘Wait for me.’

He slips his pelt over his shoulders, and dives into the water. 

He’s a strong swimmer, a few hundred yards out already.

There’s a strange tingling in your stomach, a fizzing in your veins.

You wonder if you’re about to be profoundly changed.

You can barely see him now. 

Hold it.

You can’t see him at all.

Shit!

Is he caught in the current? 

You take a few frantic steps out into the surf, panicked, unmindful that your entire bottom half is wet.

‘Jungkook?’

Your first shout is weak, barely carrying, lost in the crash of the surf.

You try again.

‘Jungkook?’

You take another few steps out, you’re deep enough to swim but you can’t see anything in the sea.

Your eyes sting with salt and the sun as you surface.

‘Jungkook!’

There’s a dark shape in the water, a ripple through the waves, and you scream as the shape brushes past you.

It turns, heads straight to you, and you dive into the water to swim away from it.

It follows, and every shark story you’ve ever been told jumps into your head.

You’re not as good a swimmer as Jungkook, but you did spend a lot of summers at the seaside growing up.

You head back to shore, kicking strongly, and by the time you’re knee deep you’re exhausted from the adrenaline.

You realise the creature’s followed you to the shore.

It’s not a shark at all.

It’s a seal.

It stays half submerged.

It looks like it’s looking straight at you.

Like it’s waiting for you.

Jungkook’s parting words pop into your head.

Wait for me.

You take a step closer. The seal stays where it is, facing you.

There’s something familiar about the tilt of its head.

The world rocks on its axis, and you?

You slip down into the sand in a dead faint.

***

You wake to sunlight that’s too bright, and Jungkook leaning over you.

His expression’s panicked, his eyes wide and worried.

You wince a little, raise your hand over your head to block out the light.

Jungkook’s saying your name, so you squint up at him.

‘Jungkook?’

‘Are you ok?’ His words come out rushed, urgent.

‘What happened?’

It comes back to you in a flash.

You groan and try to sit up.

Jungkook helps support you, hand flat against the small of your back.

‘Where did you go?’ you ask, a dumb question because you’re not sure if you’re ready to ask the question you really want to ask.

Jungkook says, ‘I went into the ocean, then I—-‘

He breaks off, then says, ‘Then I came back to you.’

‘There was a seal,’ you say carefully.

Jungkook just waits.

‘Jungkook, what’s a selkie?’

Jungkook smiles at you, gentle. 

‘I just showed you.’

***

You’re looking out of the window of your house  as Jungkook makes you tea. He’s been hovering around you like a worried mother hen since the beach, no matter how much you reassure him you’re ok.

His pelt lies beside you on the couch, thrown carelessly next to you as he rushed to fix you a drink when you got back.

You reach out gingerly and run a hand over it.

It’s warm, sleek, the short fibres bristling under your palm when you brush the wrong way.

How had you not recognised it as sealskin before?

Jungkook comes back, carefully holding a mug. He sees you touching his pelt, and you pull your hand away.

‘I don’t mind, if you touch it,’ he assures you.

You say, ‘I like how it feels.’

You sip the tea Jungkook’s just given you.

‘Tell me about selkies,’ you say.

Jungkook sits next to you on the couch. ‘I have a clan. Jimin, whom you met the other day, is part of it.’

‘We mostly live close to the sea. We can take either form—‘

At your expression, he clarifies, ‘I can be seal, or human.’

‘And the pelt?’

‘It’s part of my seal form,’ Jungkook tells you.

You have more to ask about his pelt, but Jungkook changes the subject.

‘Your grandfather was selkie,’ he says.

‘Is that common?’ you ask. ‘That selkies marry humans?’

‘It’s not unheard of,’ Jungkook says. ‘Some clans frown upon it.’

‘My grandfather left my grandmother,’ you tell him.

‘I’m sorry.’

You shrug. ‘I don’t know much. My grandmother didn’t talk about it.’

You turn to him. 

‘I found all these letters she wrote him, I don’t know if he ever got to see them.’

Jungkook’s thoughtful. ‘I can ask around, if you want.’ 

He gets up. ‘I should go. Jimin wanted my help tonight.’ 

He gives you a careful look. ‘Will you be all right?’ 

‘No wonder Jimin’s a selkie,’ you say. ‘I bet his bark is worse than his bite.’ 

Jungkook gives you an exasperated look. 

You’re on a roll. ‘Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. My lips are sealed.’ 

Jungkook tosses his pelt at you. ‘Shut up.’ 

You struggle to extricate yourself from under his pelt. ‘Don’t you need this?’ 

‘Nah,’ Jungkook says, casual. ‘Besides —’

His voice drops low as he tilts his chin at you. 

‘I like the way it smells when you look after it for me.’ 

Now you’re the one stammering and heating up. 

Jungkook smirks at you and lets himself out. 

***

Jungkook loads the last of the boxes into the back of your car and shuts the trunk. 

He’s stepping back from the car when you ask, ‘Hey, you want to come with?’ 

Jungkook considers this. 

‘We can get ice cream,’ you offer. ‘You’ll have to put a shirt on, though.’ 

Jungkook’s already pulling his t-shirt over his head and sliding into the passenger seat. 

‘You’ll need someone to help you unload this stuff at the charity shop,’ he reasons.

‘Chocolate or vanilla?’ you ask.

‘Both?’ suggests Jungkook hopefully.

You smile affectionately at him. ‘Anything you want, doll.’

Jungkook pouts. ‘It sounds like you’re making fun of me,’ he complains.

‘Don’t be seal-y,’ you say.

Jungkook groans. ‘I don’t know if ice-cream is worth this.’

You chuckle softly to yourself as you pull out of your drive onto the road into town.

***

Jungkook waits patiently on the kerb outside as you speak to the owner of the charity shop.

When you’re done you smile up at him. 

‘Ice-cream?’

‘Sure,’ he agrees amiably.

He doesn’t say much until you’re back in the car, ice-creams in hand.

‘Are you ok?’ he asks.

You glance at him but he’s not looking at you, licking up the rivulet of cream that’s trickled down the side of his cone.

‘Yeah,’ you say.

‘Your grandmother was more than what she left behind,’ Jungkook says.

He’s still not looking at you.

‘She was.’

Unexpectedly, your voice cracks, you clear your throat abruptly in an attempt to hide it.

He’s looking at you now, when you’re trying to look away, to discreetly wipe the tears pricking your eyelids.

Jungkook reaches out, and, without comment, thumbs the tears off your cheeks.

You finish your ice creams in silence.

When you pull onto your drive and kill the engine, Jungkook turns to you.

‘Tell me another seal joke.’

‘What type of music do you like?’ you ask. ‘Club hits?’

Jungkook laughs. 

He looks so pretty like this, dark hair wavy and tousled, golden skin gleaming, that you lean forward and kiss him.

His laughter stops, and you aren’t given time to fret about whether that’s a bad thing because he’s nudging closer, seeking your lips as you pull away.

There’s a sigh, and you couldn’t say if it’s from you or him, don’t care anyway, because he’s kissing you back, and it’s good.

He tastes like chocolate, and salt, his lips firm, his tongue teasing at the seam of your lips until you part them for him.

He licks into your mouth with a sweet urgency that makes you squeeze your thighs together.

His hand’s stroking the exposed skin of your back where your t-shirt’s ridden up, and his skin warms you more than the sun.

‘Jungkook,’ you murmur, as he presses kisses down the column of your throat, ‘wanna go upstairs?’

‘Yeah,’ he says. He pulls away, eyes dark, lips pink. ‘Yeah.’

***

You’re on your bed, half-undressed because Jungkook’s taking his time kissing along your breasts.

He’s shirtless, his beautiful chest toned and golden, flat nipples pebbling under your hand.

You brush a hand over the front of his jeans, thrilled by his hardness.

He groans, tugs at your shorts, lifts your hips up like you weren’t going to do it for him anyway.

He stares at the scrap of pink lace between your legs, so rapt you’re shy until he presses an open mouthed kiss to your folds.

The whine that falls involuntarily from your lips surprises you with its neediness.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind.

He tugs your panties half down your thighs, spreads you apart, and kisses you again.

His tongue slides between your folds, wet, insistent.

You’re throbbing, sensitive, as he licks you again and again.

He moans as you get wetter, slicker. 

‘Swollen,’ he pants against your cunt. ‘Need me to lick you.’

You’re beyond words, bucking your hips so you can get more of the delicious pressure of his tongue where you need it.

‘Inside,’ you moan. ‘Need you.’

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook agrees. 

He shoves his jeans down, draws out his cock.

Your mouth waters. He’s pretty. Thick, precum glistening on his head.

Jungkook strokes his cock between your folds, making himself even wetter, and you cry out at the feel of his cock head against your clit.

‘Shit. Do that again.’

He nudges himself against your clit, rubbing precum against you. ‘Like that?’

‘Yeah,’ you gasp.

Jungkook swears softly. ‘I need to be inside.’

You still as he pushes in, the hard blunt head of him stretching you as he slides in. He thrusts shallow, slow, and you’re wound so tight you could scream when he groans, deep in his chest, and fills you all the way.

He rocks his hips against yours, the head of him nudging at your front wall. You’re wrapped around him somehow, you don’t remember doing it but you thighs are around his hips, ankles crossed, holding him tight to you as he thrusts.

Jungkook groans, reaches out to grab your breasts as he makes them bounce with every lunge of his hips.

He’s so fucking strong. You knew that, you’ve seen him carry things, but you’d never put it together that he would be strong like this too, his body moving against yours like he was made to fuck you.

He slows, panting, canting his hips, changing his angle, grabbing at your thigh when your ankles unlock.

‘That’s it,’ he grunts. ‘That’s it, fuck me back.’

He throws his head back as you lift your hips to meet his, sweat gleaming on his throat.

‘Jungkook!’

‘Take it,’ he moans.

You cry his name repeatedly as you come, a pulse of pleasure so intense you lose track of everything that isn’t Jungkook and his cock inside you.

Jungkook’s grinding against you, filling you up, mouthing at your neck, when he cries out and pulls out abruptly.

You moan in protest, and he kisses you, deep, long. You can feel his heart pounding against you.

‘Tried to knot,’ he mumbles. ‘Sorry.’

You have no idea what he’s talking about but you’re enjoying the feel of him holding you too much to care.

You’ll ask later.

***

Jungkook, it turns out, is beautiful when he sleeps.

He’s splayed beside you, face down in your bed, the sheet loose over his hips. 

His face is slack with sleep, brow unfurrowed, lips parted in an ‘o’ that makes him look surprised.

He’s adorable, and the warmth in your chest as you watch him sleep surprises you.

You turn over, face the open window.

A moment later, Jungkook’s moving, curling himself around you, his chest pressed to your back.

‘Can’t sleep?’ he murmurs, his husky voice against your ear making you shiver.

‘I’m trying,’ you tell him.

You can feel him, hard, as he curls his body around yours. 

‘Let me help,’ he says. 

He reaches round to touch your naked breasts, arches your back, slides his cock between the cleft of your ass, entering you shallowly until you’re gasping and moaning.

Then he fucks you again, and it’s even better than the first time.

***

You’re trying not to stare at Jungkook as you have breakfast together, but it’s hard when you can still feel the imprints of his hands on your body.

Your only consolation is that Jungkook seems to be struggling as much as you are. 

His eyes flit between your neck, where he left a hickey close to your ear, skim over your breasts, and eventually his gaze lands on your face.

When he sees your smile he returns it, endearingly shy.

‘I had a good time last night,’ you say.

‘Me too,’ he replies.

You’re still smiling at each other like idiots.

There’s a knock on the door, and you look up, surprised.

You open the door to an unfriendly expression on a fiercely pretty face.

Jimin lifts a brow at you. ‘Is Jungkook here?’

Jungkook’s up. ‘Jimin?’

‘We have to go. Taehyung’s hurt.’ Jimin throws you a look that makes you step back.

He’s furious, and his next words hit you like a slap. ‘Fucking humans.’

You’re not given a chance to react, as Jimin’s already turning away. Jungkook throws you an apologetic look, but he doesn’t say anything. 

Then they’re gone. 

***

You’re nervous, waiting by your front door like it’s the first date you’ve ever had, and it’s not even a date. 

Namjoon’s picking you up and you’re going into town for dinner. 

You haven’t seen Jungkook since he left with Jimin. Granted, it’s only been a couple of days, but you’ve got used to having him around. 

For the thousandth time, you wonder what he’s doing. You hope he’s ok. 

There’s the flash of headlights in your front window, you’re opening the door before you realise you’re moving. 

Namjoon pulls to a stop, gets out, and you have a flash of realisation. 

He’s dressed up for this - shoulders and chest broad and strong against a crisp blue shirt, slacks that hug his ass and make his legs look even thicker. 

‘Hey,’ you say, feeling suddenly shy. 

This feels different from the Namjoon who used to collect shells and catch crabs with you when you were kids. You know he’s different now, but you’re still getting used to it. 

He walks over to open your door for you. 

‘Hey,’ he says. He smiles, and the flash of dimples makes you feel more at ease. 

‘Hey,’ you say again. 

‘Hey,’ he replies. ‘You look really pretty.’ 

You put your hand over your grandmother’s pearl, hanging in your decolletage. 

‘Thanks,’ you say. ‘You look good too.’ 

You slide into the passenger seat, look up just in time to catch the way Namjoon’s gaze drops to how your skirt’s ridden up your thighs. 

There’s a beat of nothing, then you hastily pull your skirt down, and Namjoon straightens up to close your door. 

At the restaurant, Namjoon leans back in his chair across from you. His arm’s slung casually over the back of the chair next to him – you’ve never seen his shoulders look so broad. 

‘How are you getting on with clearing out your grandmother’s house?’ he asks. 

‘We’re doing well,’ you tell him. You take a sip of your wine. ‘The loft’s almost empty, that was the biggest task, and the garden looks pretty good now.’ 

You see the way his brow rises slightly at the ‘we’. 

‘Remember that guy I told you about in the store? Jungkook? He’s been helping me.’ 

‘I’m glad you have help,’ Namjoon says. ‘If you need any extra hands, I’ve got time next week.’ 

‘I think we’ll be ok, but thanks,’ you tell him. 

‘Are you staying?’ Namjoon asks. ‘After you finish clearing out the house?’ 

He shifts a little, and his thigh brushes yours under the table. 

You try to ignore the rush of heat through you at the unexpected touch. 

‘I might stay for a bit,’ you say. 

You’d love to say you’re going back to where you were living, but the honest truth is, you feel untethered. 

Your friends in the city were great, your little apartment is your sanctuary, and your job was ok, but since being back you’ve felt a distance between you and your old life. 

You’ve never felt so strongly that there’s more out here for you. 

Namjoon tilts his head. ‘It’d be great to see more of you. My mum’s always asking after you.’ 

You laugh. ‘I miss her a lot too.’ 

‘She thinks you and I would be perfect together, she was more excited than me about our date.’ 

You roll your eyes. ‘Surely she knows, Namjoon, that you don’t really date.’ 

Namjoon pretends to be hurt, but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away. ‘We’re in a nice restaurant, I wore a nice shirt, how can you say this isn’t a date?’ 

You pretend to be thinking. 

‘Is this table too small, do you think? Because your thigh keeps brushing against mine, and —’ 

Namjoon laughs, sips his wine. ‘I also like that pearl you’ve got on that’s hanging between your tits. Like I needed more reasons to look there.’ 

You laugh. ‘It’s my grandmother’s!’ 

‘That ivory colour suits your skin tone,’ Namjoon says. He dimples at you. 

‘Shut up,’ you grumble. ‘Eat your food.’ 

‘Load up on carbs, baby,’ Namjoon suggests. ‘We’re going to burn them off later.’ 

You ignore him. 

***

Namjoon pulls up outside your house, gets out to open your door for you. 

He looks at you hopefully. ‘Are you gonna invite me in?’ 

You laugh. ‘No. I’m fine with being the only woman in town you haven’t fucked.’ 

Namjoon laughs, cups your arm as he walks you back up to your front door. 

There’s movement in the shadows, and you realise Jungkook’s been waiting on your front porch. 

He steps forward, eyes you and Namjoon. 

Beside you, Namjoon stiffens, turns towards you. 

‘Hey, Jungkook,’ you say. ‘This is Namjoon. Namjoon, Jungkook.’ 

Jungkook nods at Namjoon. 

Namjoon turns more, putting himself between you and Jungkook. 

‘I can probably take him,’ Namjoon tells you, in a stage whisper. ‘If you want me to get rid of him.’ 

You roll your eyes. ‘No one’s getting rid of anyone. Thanks for dinner, Namjoon.’

Namjoon gives Jungkook a long look, then leans down deliberately to kiss you on the cheek. 

‘Call me later,’ he says.

You wait until he’s got back in his car and driven off before turning to Jungkook. 

‘Hey,’ you say. ‘How’s your friend?’ 

‘Taehyung? He’s ok. He was hurt but the clan’s looking after him. He’ll be fine,’ Jungkook tells you. 

‘What happened?’ 

‘Some guys out in a fishing boat thought it’d be funny to try to catch him,’ Jungkook says. His eyes are serious. ‘There are some pretty cruel people out there.’ 

‘I’m sorry,’ you tell him. 

You reach out to touch his arm, and he pulls back like he doesn’t want you to touch him. 

You drop your hand, stung. 

‘Is there much left to do? Have you made progress since I Ieft?’ Jungkook asks. 

There’s a distance to his voice now, a coolness you’ve never felt from him before. 

‘Yeah,’ you lie. ‘I’m almost done, actually.’ 

‘That’s great,’ Jungkook says. He’s barely looking at you. 

‘Yeah.’ 

‘You probably don’t need my help anymore,’ Jungkook says. 

You’re too upset to hide it, so you’re glad for the darkness around you. 

‘Thank you,’ you say. ‘Thanks for helping me.’ 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. 

You fumble through your bag, looking for your keys, trying hard to see through the sheen of tears suddenly in your eyes. 

‘Here,’ Jungkook says finally. He reaches into your bag, plucks out the keys, unlocks your front door. 

‘Yeah, thanks,’ you say. 

You risk a glance up at his face. 

‘Are you — are you going?’ 

‘Yeah,’ he says. There’s something like regret in his eyes, but maybe you’re over-reading his expression. 

‘Ok. Thank you.’ 

You step into your house, and very slowly, close the door behind you. 

You tell yourself it’s probably for the best. 

***

You have no idea why you keep coming back to this spot on the beach, apart from it was the spot Jungkook picked to profoundly change your world view. 

It’s usually deserted, but today the usual serenity of the vista is marred by shouting. 

You approach, and to your horror, there’s a seal on the shore, and a couple of guys standing over it. 

You rush forward. ‘Hey!’ 

You have the oddest feeling of deja vu. It’s not the same, not the same at all, but this reminds you of the first time you met Jungkook. 

You see the swing of a piece of driftwood, and you jump forward. 

At the last moment, the guy who had been about to hit the seal manages to swing away so he doesn’t hit you. 

You ignore him. 

‘Get back in the water,’ you say. 

The seal looks at you, watching, waiting. 

‘Fucking go,’ you plead. ‘Please, just go.’ 

You think it’s Jungkook but you really have no idea, you’ve only seen him in seal form once. 

You wait until he moves, before turning back to the guys. 

‘Why would you even do that?’ you ask, angrily. ‘It’s a seal!’ 

The guy scoffs. ‘What’s it to you, bitch?’ 

You clench your jaw. ‘You’d better walk away, asshole.’ 

The two guys stare at you, but you’re too angry to care. 

‘Hey!’ comes another voice. 

You all turn to see Jimin approaching. 

Fuck. Just what you need. Another angry man who hates you. 

You turn back and realise the seal’s gone. 

‘Come on,’ Jimin says. To your astonishment, he steps between you and the men. ‘Come on, Y/N, let’s go back home.’ 

You’re so surprised that you allow him to lead you away from the men. 

Eventually you look at him. ‘We don’t even have the same home.’ 

‘Yeah, I’m aware of that,’ Jimin says, dry. 

‘Guess you saw those assholes.’ 

‘Jungkook should know better.’ 

You try to ignore the flare of hope in your chest at the acknowledgement that it was Jungkook on the beach. 

‘I guess you think he should know better about a lot of things,’ you say, spiky. 

Jimin hums. ‘You didn’t hurt him but there are a lot of cruel humans out there.’ 

You’ve reached your door. ‘Yeah.’ 

You turn to Jimin. ‘I hope he’s ok,’ you say. ‘Look after yourself, Jimin.’ 

You don’t think there’s anything left to say. 

***

You fall into a routine of sorts as the days click into place. 

Jungkook had been right, the garden didn’t need any more work after he left. 

The loft’s empty now, apart from a box of letters, some of which you’re waiting to have the emotional headspace to read. 

After the loft, emptying the rooms is easy. The house still has its memories, but you no longer feel laden with the past. 

It’s a week after you saw Jungkook on the beach that you wake to find his pelt on the step up to your kitchen door. 

You pick it up carefully, look around like Jungkook might still be around even though your instincts tell you that you’re alone. 

You place it on the couch, wonder what the hell you’re supposed to do with it, why he would even leave it with you considering he doesn’t want to see you. 

You remember the picture of your grandparents and your grandfather’s pelt, and re-open the last box from the loft. 

Letter after letter, tiny fine trinkets, a lock of your mother’s hair tied with a ribbon. 

Another picture, this time of you, on your grandfather’s lap. 

You don’t remember much about him apart from that he’d been kind, and that he’d seemed to love your grandmother. They’d seemed to have loved each other. 

You unfold another letter. The paper’s crisper than the others, like it’s been wet and dried. 

Dearest, 

I don’t have any regrets about the life we chose. I’ll always cherish our time together, short though it was. 

Today is hard. I’m angry, and I’m upset, and I miss you so very much. 

I wish you’d chosen me instead of your clan. 

I wish I’d told you what I wanted before you left. 

I hate that we are apart, and today, I almost hate you. 

I don’t mean that. Maybe I do. 

Most of all, I wish I could tell you, my love, that even on days like this, it was worth all our while. 

It was worth it. 

All my love, always

Dasom

Tear prick your eyelids, and you blink them back hurriedly, but not quickly enough. A fat teardrop lands in the middle of the letter, and you realise now why the paper is crisper than the others, why the ink in some spots is smeared. 

Your grandmother was crying when she wrote it. 

You’re re-folding the letter, about to close the box, when you spot another letter at the very bottom. 

It’s written on different paper, and when you unfold it, in different handwriting. 

Dasom, 

You know I’m not one for writing, you always wrote so much more beautifully than I did. Did you get the pearl? I found it last year, and it’s always reminded me of you. 

I want to ask how Ara is but I see her sometimes by the shore, with Y/N, and they’re perfect. 

Loving you was the best thing I ever did, and I think that every day. 

All my love, always

Dal

You’re crying so hard you can barely breathe. 

The knock on your kitchen door startles you. You wipe your tears away hastily, and open the door. 

It’s Jungkook. 

He’s wet, and it takes you longer than it should to notice that it’s raining. 

Jungkook leans down so his face is closer to yours. His eyes are worried. ‘Are you ok?’ 

‘I’m fine,’ you tell him. ‘I was reading old letters.’ 

‘Thank you for helping me,’ he starts, ‘that day on the beach.’ 

‘Which one?’ you joke, tearily. 

Jungkook smiles. ‘You’re always saving me,’ he agrees. 

He steps closer, and you realise he’s trying to stop the rain from reaching you by shielding you with his own body. 

You step back, into your kitchen.

‘I can’t sleep,’ Jungkook tells you. 

‘Want a hot chocolate?’ you offer. 

‘Always,’ Jungkook admits. ‘But I don’t think that’s why.’ 

You look up at him. 

‘I belong to you,’ Jungkook tells you. 

Your heart begins to pound. 

‘I always have,’ he says, eyes intent on you. 

You turn to give yourself some space. ‘I’ve told you, Jungkook, you don’t owe me anything.’ 

Your voice comes out firm, confident. 

‘I owe you everything,’ Jungkook says. 

‘You don’t owe me a damn thing —’ 

You’re cut off by Jungkook stepping forward and leaning down to kiss you. He’s gentle as always, his arm wrapping loosely around your waist to hold you as your lips meet. 

Jungkook says, ‘Have you packed your bed?’ 

He’s backing you gently out of the kitchen, heading to the stairs. 

‘Jungkook we can’t —’ 

He stops. ‘Don’t you want to?’ he asks. 

‘Yeah, fuck, ok. We can.’ 

***

You’re loose, still boneless from your orgasm, when Jungkook goes to fetch you water from the kitchen. 

He comes back with a glass of water, and his pelt. 

‘Kinky,’ you say, teasing. 

‘I didn’t tell you about pelts before,’ he says. He scoots in next to you, brushes your hair away from your face. 

‘I have something to tell you about your pelt too,’ you confess. 

At his expression, you say, quickly, ‘You go first.’ 

‘The reason I was so grateful to you when you helped me that day at the beach is that you stopped those men from taking my pelt,’ Jungkook tells you. 

He looks at you. ‘For a selkie, a pelt is the source of our ability to change form.’ 

‘If those men had taken my pelt, I’d have been stuck in human form permanently.’ 

‘You should take better care of it,’ you scold. 

Jungkook’s still looking at you. ‘I did. I left it with you.’ 

The realisation makes you sit up. ‘You should have told me how important it was!’

Jungkook says, simply, ‘I trusted you to look after it.’  

You groan. ‘Why would you trust me like that, Jungkook?’ 

Jungkook rolls over, on top of you. 

He’s heavy, but that’s not the main reason your breathing’s quickening. 

‘I have more to tell you,’ he murmurs, voice husky now. 

‘Yeah?’ you ask. 

Jungkook leans his head down, tugs the sheet off you with his teeth. 

His eyes darken as your breasts are bared to him. 

‘I almost knotted you,’ he tells you. 

You’re distracted, because he’s grinding against you, and you can feel exactly how hard he is. 

‘Hmm?’ you ask. 

Jungkook nudges his cock between your legs, pushing himself in an inch. Two. 

You close your eyes. ‘Fuck, Jungkook.’ 

‘Knotting’s an important thing for selkies,’ Jungkook explains. 

You have no idea how he even has the presence of mind to still be making full sentences. 

Shit, you can’t think! Not when he’s inside you like this. 

Jungkook moves, a shallow thrust that makes you moan. 

‘When a selkie meets his mate, his biological response is to knot.’ 

‘Shit, Jungkook,’ you gasp as he moves again. ‘Can we talk about this later?’ 

Jungkook’s breathing hard as he moves again, and you’re pleased you’re not the only one hot and bothered by what he’s doing. 

‘No,’ he says. ‘We need to talk about it. I’m worried I might —’

Your eyes snap to his. 

‘What’s knotting?’ 

Jungkook stills, but you can still feel him, hard and throbbing inside you. 

‘I’ve never knotted anyone before,’ he tells you. ‘But the other day, I nearly knotted you.’ 

Now he has your full attention. 

‘After I come, the base of my cock swells inside you.’ He looks shy, which is a lot considering he’s inside you still. 

‘It’s biological. To keep my sperm inside you.’ 

‘I’m on birth control —’ 

‘I know,’ he says. ‘But selkies haven’t evolved to get past that yet.’ 

You laugh. ‘Are you saying your cock gets even bigger after you’ve come?’ 

Jungkook buries his face between your breasts, but he’s still so hard. 

‘Fuck. Ok, show me.’ 

‘It might hurt you,’ Jungkook says, touching your cheek. 

‘You’ll look after me, won’t you?’ 

‘I will,’ he promises. ‘Fuck, I will.’ 

He starts moving again, grunting as he thrusts. You curl your hand around the nape of his neck, holding him close as he grinds against you. 

‘Jungkook I —’ 

‘Yeah,’ he says. He presses kisses to your cheeks, to your neck, as you tighten around him. 

You cry his name again as you come, hear his answering moan. 

Jungkook’s thrusting slower now, movements getting more erratic as he reaches his peak. 

He seals his lips to yours as he comes, groans deep in his chest. You can feel him twitching inside you as he fills you. 

There’s so much come you can feel it leaking out of you. 

Jungkook strokes your face, kisses you. ‘I’m going to knot,’ he tells you, voice strained. ‘Can I?’ 

‘Yeah,’ you say. 

You turn your face into his hand, press a kiss into his palm as he swells inside you. 

You shift a little, and Jungkook says, hoarse, ‘You’re doing so well, shit, it feels so good.’ 

He moves, once, and you moan at the pleasure of it. 

‘Does it feel good for you?’ Jungkook asks. He makes the same movement again, and you moan again. 

‘Yeah,’ you tell him. ‘I like it —’ 

Jungkook groans. ‘I like it too, baby.’ 

He reaches between your bodies, strokes your clit as he moves, and between the fullness inside you and the way he’s touching you, you come again.

Jungkook swears, pupils so blown his eyes look black. ‘I can feel you,’ he tells you. ‘Fuck, I can feel you.’ 

You bury your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him as he holds you tightly. You have no idea how long the pleasure goes on for, if it even stops. All you know is the feel of Jungkook all around you, inside you, and it all makes sense to you. 

***

Your grandmother’s grave is a simple one with a small flat polished headstone. The inscription reads, Dasom, loving mother to Ara and grandmother to Y/N, and loving wife to Dal. 

Yours are the only flowers in front of it, but as you set them down you notice the square laid carefully on the ground. 

It’s part of your grandfather’s pelt, you’d know it anywhere. 

You look up at Jungkook, hesitant. ‘Does this mean –’ 

‘When a selkie dies, his pelt is given to his loved ones,’ Jungkook says. 

You don’t put much stock in physical things, especially not now when you’ve seen firsthand how none of it matters, really, but you like that your grandfather’s pelt is with your grandmother. 

You hope it means they’ve found each other again. 

Jungkook holds out his hand to help you up, and you walk down the path together. 

Author note: For Memes @madbutgloriouspond , because your friendship and kindness means the world to me.

©hamsterclaw 2023

TONIGHT YOU ARE MINE [s. neteyam]

pairing neteyam x metkayina!fem!reader

summary fed up with his siblings stealing you away while the sun shines, neteyam decides it's best to see you during eclipse

wc 1.2k

warnings mentions of jealousy, probably littered with grammatical errors (oops)

note first actual neteyam oneshot 😋 it took me WAYYYY too long to actually finish this. i must admit i’m a bit embarrassed lol. also this is heavily inspired by this song !!

glossary yawntutsyìp (darling), skxawng (idiot), oel ngati kameie (i see you)

neteyam wasn’t jealous. he wasn’t. he swore to both you and himself that jealousy was something he felt a lack of, always trusting in you and the relationship you both upheld. he took great pride in not having experienced the pesky emotion. but now, as he stood watching you from the shore of one of the reef’s many beaches, he was trying to force down the bitter feeling that caused his jaw to tighten and stature to straighten.

the na’vi stealing your attention away from him weren’t even strangers. neteyam felt more betrayed that you were making more time for his siblings than you were for him. he supposed he could join in on your fun, integrate himself into the smiles and laughter, but he wanted time with you and you alone. so as he turned away, gears beginning to turn in his mind, he worked out a supposed better moment to approach you.

“there you are! i’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

your words carried a lilt to them, and you wore an exhilarated smile as you walked up to neteyam, reaching for his hand in earnest. 

“that’s funny, ‘cause i’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he replied gingerly, his lips pulling into a grin similar to yours. he took notice of the way you were practically bouncing on your heels as he began to tug you in the direction of the water.

it was just after eclipse, and you could sense that his family (or parents in particular) would be worried about him, but you didn’t question when he said, “come with me.” 

his braids fell past his shoulders as he walked, and you squeezed his hand tenderly as water started to lap at your ankles, the waves pooling around your feet. out beyond the beach, the reef glowed with bioluminescence. you had always thought it to be prettier now than when the sun touched it.

“where are we going?” you asked.

neteyam shook his head, smile refusing to feign or falter. “you’ll see, yawntutsyìp. we’re not going far, just…out.” his tone of voice was stoic, and a small part of you thought there might be more to his answer than he was letting on.

“just out,” you repeated, hyper-aware of the way his hand felt in yours. “i like the sound of that. it has been a while since we have been together. alone.”

scoffing out a laugh, neteyam nodded, stealing a glance your way as you both walked along the shoreline. “indeed it has. you’ve been spending all of your time with my brother and sisters.”

you frowned at his words, mentally recalling your activities throughout the day. much to your dismay, neteyam was right. “they’ve required my attention; their breath hold is getting longer and longer each time we practice,” is all you told him.

“yes, but i require your time too,” neteyam drawled, his face morphed into an expression of longing. he pulled you to a stop. “you’re so distant when the sun comes out. why don’t you let tsireya take over. just for a day. i miss being with you.”

lips stretching into a soft smile, you released neteyam’s hand before bringing both your palms to his freckled face. his cheeks were warm against your skin as you said, “you’re with me now. and yes, i can talk to tsireya. she will take over tomorrow’s lessons.” after a slight pause, you stepped closer to him. “there’s no need to be so jealous, ‘teyam.”

your lover rolled his eyes, large hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them from his face. his thumbs smoothed over your knuckles as he said, “i’m not jealous. just…”

“envious of your siblings?” you finished for him, a teasing smile stretching your lips.

neteyam gave you an unamused look, but you noticed the way he was biting back a grin. “you’re such a skxawng.”

“says you!” there was no point in trying to hide that some part of you found it humorous and sweet that neteyam was jealous of his siblings for ‘stealing you away.’ you found it to be quite cute.

instead of trying to find a proper rebuttal to your intended banter, neteyam only sighed and guided your hands to rest behind his nape, his own fingers finding themselves latched to your hips. your front pressed against his, and he sighed as his amber eyes met yours.

intimidated by the sudden closeness, you found your insides twisted with anxiousness. in your peripheral, you noticed the way neteyam’s tail flickered behind him. 

“what do you want to do tomorrow?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. his gaze consistently jumped to your mouth as he awaited your response.

hit by the abrupt urge to kiss him, you shook your head. “ask me when i’m not distracted by your presence, okay?”

neteyam grinned, and you caught sight of his elongated canines as he stroked the outline of your jaw with his right thumb. “when are you not distracted by my presence, yawntutsyìp?”

giving him a disgruntled look, you rolled your eyes, leaning into his touch regardless of your annoyed facade. “just shut up and kiss me, skxawng.” using the heels of your palms, you gently urged neteyam closer and pressed your lips against his, instantly losing yourself in his taste.

your mouth moved with his, fingers splaying and threading themselves into the roots of his braids. he was so close, and yet you wanted him closer, forever engraved into your skin and mind and soul. as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you moaned quietly before pulling away. neteyam followed suit, though, and you found yourself exhaling as his mouth began to trail the column of your neck.

“neteyam,” you said, failing to steal his attention away from the marks he was branding onto your skin. “neteyam.”

he breathed heavily against your throat. “what?”

“people…” you started, mind clouded with the sensation of his warm tongue. “people will notice marks, neteyam.”

“good,” he regarded with no hesitation, placing chaste kisses on your jawline. “let them notice.”

you let out a strained whine, your eyes locked on the blazing stars above, hands sliding down to his biceps. “my parents will notice. yours will too.”

at this, neteyam finally pulled back, his gaze lidded. his head tilted ever so slightly to the left. “what is so bad about them noticing?”

exhaling through your nose, you shot him a pointed look before shifting yourself against him. you rested your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut. “there’s nothing distinctively wrong, i suppose. everything about this—about you—just makes me nervous. or, rather, excited. my mind and senses feel tuned to a hundred percent when i’m with you. i have never felt this way. i think i am scared to express whatever this is.”

neteyam’s gaze softened with understanding, leaning down to rest his chin atop your head. he embraced you tightly—to which you were quick to do the same—and he said against your hair, “i have never felt this way either.”

you pulled away, just enough to properly look at him. “oel ngati kameie, neteyam. oel ngati kameie.”

he did not hesitate to say the phrase back, his fingers splaying across the small of your back. “i see you, my love.”

neteyam let the words hang in the air, their weighted meaning bringing heaviness to your heart. and it was at this moment, as you both stood facing each other, skin against skin, that you deemed the entire sully family to be a gift from eywa herself—it had never been so clear to you than it was now.

© luvsellie 2023 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!

Wicked Games (m) | LJN.

playlist | moodboard

summary: after a drunken challenge is made as to who can make out and hook up with as many strangers as possible for the duration of term, you and jeno start to realise that person your hearts really cry for might actually be a lot closer than you think.

genre: enemies to lovers; university!au; angst; fluff

word count: 12,771 (she’s a loNG ONE)

warnings: explicit language, recreational drinking, attempted drink spiking, smut (mark making, oral (f recieving), fingering, protected sex.), jeno’s a pain in the ass and y/n is dense as hell

taglist: @lovingyong​ @neocultvretechs​

a/n: this is my first time writing smut, so sorry in advance if ~that section~ is poorly written!! i advise that if this sort of content makes you uncomfortable, please do not read it. also, pretty much all of the pranks mentioned in this story are actually based off my own experience at uni!! please don’t stab ur roommates’ milk lol

“Oh my god, again?!”

With a sigh of despair, your eyes linger longingly on the carton of milk in your hands, or more specifically the two almost invisible slits along their plastic seams. On the table before you, a puddle of milk pools beside your coffee-filled mug from where it has spilled out of the brutal puncture wounds. Across the kitchen, your flatmate and best friend Na Jaemin covers his mouth with his hand, desperately struggling to withhold his snickers.

“Who the hell stabs milk?!” You sigh frustratedly, bringing the carton closer to your face and wincing your eyes to have a super close look at the dairy murder victim.

“Lee Jeno apparently,” Huang Renjun - another flatmate - smirks amusedly, drawing in his lips to repress his laughter, “and what a genius move it was!”

Instantly your eyes pierce into Renjun, unimpressed. He bursts into hysterics.

Weiterlesen

: 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 — (𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 + 𝐥𝐨’𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲)

— from avatar 2 : way of the water (spoiler free!!)

contents. gn! reader, reader is a omoticayan on the shorter side, full on fluff, flirting + teasing, just teenagers in love, implied size difference, hints of mutual pining, mild profanity, reader is around 7ft + wc. 1.3k

notes. i got this idea from that one scene with tsireya and lo’ak then noticed how humongous na’vi hands are and the cogwheels started turning in my head. i had to look up their heights and do a comparison chart to make it accurate lolol. so i hope you guys enjoy this one ^^

NETEYAM・✶ ｡ﾟ

he was visibly confused when you asked to compare hand sizes, eyes flicking back and forth between his hands to yours. when it came to neteyam, he was a little more cautious, especially growing up around three troublesome siblings. there always has to be a catch when it comes to silly requests like these.

but after a few moments of awkward silence, he ends up obediently holding up his hand to you, earning a pleased smile from you.

“are you playing tricks on me right now?” neteyam had to make sure in case the situation calls for any medical attention. kiri and his grandmother weren’t that far off from you guys.

“no i’m not, swear,” you laughed, raising your own hand towards him.

the air felt weirdly tense as he felt your soft palms brush against his, a strange warmth enveloping inside his chest. for all the times you guys have physically touched each other, whether it be to tend each other’s wounds or when he mindlessly latched onto your waist whenever he feels like there’s a threat approaching, he has never felt that intimate towards your touches.

neteyam watched the pads of your fingers drag itself into the calluses of his palm, it made him slightly jolt from the ticklish sensation and you couldn’t help but quietly giggle at his reaction. he gave you a playful glare that silenced you, but there was still a smile on your face. finally, you laid your hand flat over his— mirroring his outstretched fingers. neteyam realized how much your hands were completely different from his.

he noticed how your fingers were a lot shorter compared to his. if he could close his hands into a fist right now, your hand would be completely engulfed by his slim fingers. this shouldn’t be a surprise to him, you were a lot more shorter than him by a whole foot— always having to crane your neck whenever the two of you talked or when he always teases you for being short. but somehow, neteyam felt like he just learned the secret to pandora. it made him melt inside a bit.

he couldn’t help but think your hands are adorable.

“you have baby hands,” neteyam teases, his fangs flashing in his smirk. “tiny and soft.”

there was blush that appeared on your cheeks, your eyebrows crinkled at his teasing, “they're not that small!” 

your mind couldn’t quite register the fact he also called your hands soft. it made you feel even more flustered.

his long fingers smoothly wrapped around your entire hand, restraining your hand completely. you tried to wiggle your fingers out of his firm grasp, but there was no use. you nodded in a defeated agreement, he was right— your hands are completely tiny. but with someone like neteyam, he needed to hear it from you verbally.

“say it,” neteyam can be such an ass sometimes. 

you rolled your eyes, tongue suddenly feeling heavy with denial. but you knew neteyam wouldn’t let go of your hand until you admitted it. childishly, you stomped your feet a couple of times before you spoke again.

“i have baby hands,” your voice slurred with anger.

neteyam smiled in satisfaction and slowly released your hand. you quickly snatched away and petted the delicate skin of your hand— comforting it after being restrained by his rough touch.

after that, neteyam would always hold onto your hand whenever you went anywhere together. it could be when you guys hunted in the depths of the forest or just out of comfort, but there was always one sly comment about the softness of your skin or how tiny your hands are. your hands are so cute, he would whisper teasing remarks until your ears grew red. the other sully’s caught on and started to tease you as well. now you have to deal with even more relentless teasing whenever you come to visit them. as a result, your new nickname became “baby hands.”

although he could tease you about your small hands, you could always get him back for liking them.

LO’AK ・✶ ｡ﾟ

he quietly watched you mindlessly trace circles on his blue palms, his other hand supporting his leaning form. you guys had ventured out into the lush forest, resting in a secluded area that you found together that one night lo’ak ran off to train by himself. lo’ak always had a swell of adoration towards you, there was no denying that.

whenever he got injured from flying his banshee too close to the floating mountains, he would come straight to you. sometimes he would even fake his own injuries, repeatedly slamming himself into a random tree— brash and completely mindless. at the end he would be groaning on the ground and clutching himself in pain. witnessing his weak form nearly gave you a heart attack, you quickly aided him back to health after that.

one thing he noticed from each interaction was how soft your hands were. they felt feathery to the touch, it was like you didn’t even touch him at all. the brush of your fingertips could put him under a permanent trance. kiri was always so rough with him when it came to healing, pressing so hard on him that it could add more bruises to his already-beaten body. but lo’ak came to the conclusion that kiri was purposely bad at healing him. lo’ak wasn’t really surprised.

“lo’ak, i need you to answer me honestly,” your gentle voice sent him back to reality, he had to blink a few times to focus on you again. 

you still traced your fingertips on his palm, but this time he felt you drawing little hearts and some words he couldn’t form together— maybe he could figure out what it means later.

he nodded at you.

“are you purposely hurting yourself?” 

oh shit he was caught.

lo’ak fidgeted a bit but didn’t dare to move, not wanting to disrupt your comforting traces on his palm. he knew that he shouldn’t lie to you, it would only make you worry even more. so lo’ak inhaled a deep breath and looked into your eyes.

“yes i have,” lo’ak sighed when he remembered how he would beat wooden sticks onto his calves and shoulders. “i just…wanted to be closer with you.”

your eyes flicked in worry as you stopped tracing his palm, instead you held his hand tightly, “you should’ve just asked lo’ak, you didn’t have to hurt yourself.”

lo’ak looked away in guilt, the images of your eyes prickling with tears and the worried cries from his own mother filled his thoughts. once again, lo’ak felt like a burden to the people he loved.

the chirps of the wild animals and the rustle of leaves played in the background, your sad gaze slowly moved onto his fourth finger— something lo’ak felt slightly insecure about. he was about to pull his hand away out of embarrassment but your three fingers slowly latched around his pinkie, they wrapped perfectly around it.

so small, he thought.

lo’ak stuttered a bit, none of his words could form cohesively. his heart was pumping faster at the foreign contact, but he tried to keep it cool.

“you better ‘pinkie’ promise me this lo’ak,” your voice was stern and powerful. “that you’ll never hurt yourself again.”

“i promise,” lo’ak gave you a reassuring smile, earning a relieved grin from you.

you guys both stood together, silently agreeing that it was time to retire for the night. your smaller hand was still latched onto his pinkie, the softness of your fingertips sent blood rushing to his face. there was also something that he really wanted to ask you.

“how do you know what a ‘pinkie’ is?” he wiggled his pinkie in your grasp, he saw you look away for a moment until you sighed softly.

“i asked your dad what it was,” you looked at your own hands, wiggling your three fingers in the humid air to avoid his gaze. “i was just curious.”

lo’ak couldn’t help but laugh out loud at your cuteness. he leans in closer to give you a heavy kiss on the cheek— rendering you completely flustered. he’s going to be teasing you for a while.

© 2022 keisobe – please do not copy any of my writing and repost or translate to other sites.