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ahundredtimesover · 3 months

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I Want You to Stay (04) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 11.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii I'm getting slower with editing and writing so please bear with me moving forward! Also pls remember, this is a slow burn haha. But anyway, been loving your replies (I see you) and messages, thank you. I hope you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

The events of last weekend remain in your mind, as you approach Jungkook’s apartment the next Monday and feel like your heart will leap out of your chest.

You remind yourself that he wasn’t angry at you; he’d even tried to apologize and didn’t make a fuss when you left the restaurant last Saturday. But still, the whole incident would make anyone feel agitated, and you know his capacity to feel and express that. He was inconvenienced and put on the spot, after all.

You enter, and shortly after, Jungkook exits the gym then greets you with a nod when he sees you. He looks more tired than anything. He doesn’t have a hint of frustration in his eyes, and you could only hope that he’d forgotten about what happened or, like how he is when it comes to personal matters, he’d chosen not to acknowledge it.

You bow in return, sneaking a glance as he walks towards his bedroom, with your throat drying up when he removes his shirt, briefly gracing you with a view of his glistening toned back right before disappearing inside. You wait half a minute before you follow him to prepare his clothes, giving yourself time to breathe before you have to face him again. You return to the kitchen and prepare his breakfast, looking up when you hear him walk in.

You approach him to do an act that’s become a routine for you, and for him as well, as he stands straight and unmoving while you tighten his tie and make sure he looks fine. Even when your fingers only graze his clothed chest, the memory from last Saturday becomes vivid, as you recall wiping his wine-soaked top, feeling the taut body underneath.

You shake your head at the thought, realizing that there are more things about that night that you should not acknowledge at all, including the heat you felt at seeing him in the washroom, a little exposed and definitely sweaty. There was that tension and the dropping of formalities that felt too foreign and quite disorienting. You don’t know him as anything other than the ‘Mr. Jeon’ you assist; seeing him as just ‘Jungkook’ was different. But you suppose that that’s the man you help everyday, and you wonder how much of himself he leaves behind in the office and how much of him now is just… him.

As you go about your routine during breakfast, you’re reminded that for Jungkook, there doesn’t seem to be a difference. How he is at work is the same as how he is elsewhere - serious, quiet, and detached. Except maybe when he’s with those women he meets at clubs, though. Perhaps the thrill and pleasure inject a bit of emotion and passion in him. You wouldn’t know, but at least it’s a way for him to take a break from the responsibilities he carries.

You scold yourself internally again. You’re not supposed to be curious; you’re not supposed to care. So you shake all of them away and remind yourself of who you are and your own distance that you should observe.

You get to your senses and proceed accordingly. You go about as usual in the morning with his meetings, and then he shuts his office so he could focus in the afternoon. You see his furrowed brows from the window, as he works on what seems to be the Arts Center again, given his requests for financial and marketing reports of the company's non-residential projects from the last five years.

You’re busy with organizing his Singapore trip and coordinating with the CEO’s office about the upcoming Appointment Dinner to formally introduce the new appointees, when he exits his room and looks through the folders lined on the shelf behind you.

“Where are the portfolios of our collaboration projects from 2017?” He asks.

“They’re in the archive room,” you answer, standing up to head there.

But he does it first, beating you to the corner area just off the hallway to the left. Your steps are obviously not at pace with his, and he’s tiptoeing to reach for a large folder by the time you get there. He’s able to retrieve it, laying it on the ledge as he goes through some pages.

“I could’ve gotten that,” you say softly, and Jungkook turns to you and wishes he hadn’t, as your pout makes his insides melt.

There’s something about your disappointment that you didn’t get to help him that makes his heart race a little, and while he knows it has everything to do with you thinking that he’d think you’re not doing your job properly, he still likes to keep the thought that you’d wanted to help him in the first place.

“It was heavy,” he explains.

“I’ve carried and pulled and pushed things way heavier than that folder,” you scoff.

“Really?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, trying not to show amusement on his face. “My cousin let you do all those things, huh?”

You frown at his attempt to catch you slipping. “I do many things in the background during events, Mr. Jeon, things that get everything functioning properly while Mr. Jung engages with the guests.”

Jungkook can only imagine how much work you put into getting those events hosted by the VP’s office running. Perhaps retrieving heavy folders is no big deal for you. But still, he doesn’t want to come across as a jerk for making you do something he can do on his own. He already was, he reminds himself, and you also definitely think he is; he doesn’t want to add to that any more, not after everything that’s happened.

So he just nods. “It’s a simple task I can do.”

Jungkook looks at the labeled boxes and folders. He’s got materials and design points to finalize by tonight. There are some more past projects he wants to go through to take inspiration from, and he finds another one he wants to look at, underestimating its weight, which is why he jerks in surprise when he feels how heavy it really is.

You’re there on cue, as if you knew it was gonna be too much. And if he’d asked you, you probably would’ve told him so.

You’re standing much closer to him, your fingers grazing against his as you hold onto the folder. It’s almost familiar, only because you stood this close to him that night at the restaurant, too - when you cleaned him up, and then when you handed him his clothes in the washroom. You actually stand this close to him everyday when you fix his tie. Perhaps after all that, it’s only dawning on you just how little space between you two there are sometimes, and you’re suddenly hyper aware - of the distance, of his scent, of the way he’s looking back at you when you turn to look at him.

“It was heavy,” he admits.

And for some reason, you laugh. Maybe it’s the slightly embarrassed look on his face or it’s just your defense mechanism when you feel tense but you let out an amused sound, with it fading as the time goes by and you realize you’re actually laughing at your boss.

“Making fun of me, Ms. Cho?”

“I… I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you stammer, stepping away.

You’re about to mentally curse yourself until you see his slight smirk, and the thought of him making fun at you by scaring you like that makes you feel better. He may have some sense of humor after all.

Still, you bow in apology, and there’s a moment when you meet his eyes, with something not anger or frustration in them, that you both linger, as if there are things both of you feel that need to be said; you just don’t know what they are.

“Did the dry cleaners get to remove the wine stains?” You manage to get some words out, turning away now as you bring up last Saturday night.

“Uh, yeah,” he responds. There’s a pause before he continues. “Did… did you get home okay?”

You’re too stunned to be able to answer right away but you eventually do. “Uh, yeah. Jimin, Soomin, and I just bought food and then went to my apartment. And you?”

“I did,” he nods.

“Did… did Hajoon bother you again after we left?”

“No. Well, he just kept giving me the death stare but he didn’t do anything else,” he says.

“I really don’t know what got him so worked up,” you sigh, feeling bolder at having to share this much. “He’s not usually confrontational and he knows I hate it. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“People have their reasons for getting angry. They’re not always valid, though, and definitely not always warranted,” Jungkook replies, briefly looking away. “Whatever it is, at least he didn’t throw a punch.”

“Oh, if he did, that is it for me,” you chuckle, feeling unfamiliar with being able to talk to Jungkook so casually like this. “Goodbye, job; goodbye, Seoul. I will probably just work as a librarian somewhere.”

Jungkook wants to say he wouldn’t accept your resignation for that reason, that he doesn’t want you to go anywhere, actually. But that’s too much and probably inappropriate to say given the circumstances. So he just hums and turns back to the folder and looks through them.

“I’ll need these back in my room,” he says, carrying one while you take the other.

You appreciate the topic change, knowing you won’t know how to handle more if the conversation deepens. You both walk back quietly, as it dawns on you that the casual nature you both talked to each other is a little disorienting.

You’re not used to him sounding concerned.

He’s not used to you being honest and open.

Perhaps seeing a different side of him isn’t all that bad, you think.

Jungkook wants to believe it’s your way of forgiving him, too, even if he hasn’t actually apologized for anything.

The minute it takes to return to your respective desks ends, and Jungkook is back to focusing on his designs while you get back to making reservations. You peek inside his room every once in a while to check if he’s okay, if there’s anything else he needs, if there’s anything you can do for him.

The frustrated look on his face isn’t new, but the fact that it isn’t directed at you, is. So is the worried feeling you have for him. You’re a mix of emotions from everything that’s happened this past month, so you can’t deny that the way he’s been acting towards you has left you confused, maybe even doubtful. You have to be cautious, you think, and not fall into a comfortable dynamic with him so easily.

The next day, he’s back to being serious once again, as you sit to his right in the restaurant that will be catering the upcoming VP event. Jungkook decided for both of you to have the food tasting for lunch, and so a spread has been prepared for him to make the final decision on the menu.

You’d like to think that you’ve developed quite a sophisticated palate, all thanks to the numerous events that Hoseok asked you to organize in your three years working under him. With this upcoming dinner party a sort of introduction of Jungkook and the project to the art world, he wants to make sure that he serves only the best to the guests, which is why he carefully tastes each dish, trying to determine the best combination that’s both delicious and creative.

You give your comments, some of which he acknowledges, and you feel like you’re both making headway in terms of the menu, as well as with his disposition for the day, given that he’s looking more comfortable and relaxed than he was half an hour ago.

That is, until he sips his wine for the first time, and clears his throat.

“I believe I specifically said that lunch today is a work matter, Ms. Cho,” he says sternly. “You’re on the clock and this isn’t a break.”

“Y—yes, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, curious as to the reason for his statement.

“Then why is your boyfriend waiting outside the restaurant, trying to catch your attention?”

“What?” You exclaim, turning around and spotting Hajoon standing by the lamppost, his sullen eyes getting a bit of light in them once they meet yours. “I… I don’t know,” you respond. “I haven’t spoken to him since Saturday.”

“How did he know you’re here, then?”

“His restaurant is just up the street,” you sigh. “He must’ve seen me when he was walking there. This area is his usual route. Please just ignore him.”

“I can’t when he’s in my peripheral vision. He’s still the man who got in my face the other night. He clearly wants to speak to you and I don’t think he’ll go away,” Jungkook reasons.

You look at him, waiting for his instructions.

Jungkook doesn’t like that Hajoon is there and he also doesn’t want you to speak with him during work hours, especially if it’s going to affect you for the rest of the day. But the man seems desperate and persistent; he really doesn’t seem like he’ll just let this moment of seeing you pass.

“You have five minutes,” Jungkook says.

You don’t exactly want to go out there; there’s a reason why you haven’t returned Hajoon’s texts or calls these past days. But you can imagine that it’s a worse look for him to be staying around; a distraction during this work matter that you know Jungkook would not appreciate one bit. So you stand up and tell him that you’ll be back shortly.

Jungkook returns to the dish in front of him, noting that the Japanese mushroom risotto is a good addition to the set menu. The event his office is planning includes a sit down dinner and then an offering of canapés and champagne while guests walk around the venue to see the presentation of the Arts Center in large boards and on screens. It will be a good way for him to socialize - something he’s incredibly nervous about because it’s not his strongest suit, nor is it something he enjoys, unlike his cousin. The primary goal, though, is to introduce the project. Jungkook needs important people on board so they can be involved in the launch and the succeeding special activities.

He tries to think about that night and how he wants to design the place. He tries to think of other things, too, like the music and decor, even if he’d said that’s for both of you to plan next week. He’s even thinking of a follow up already, even if his management support team is in charge of that and would be dependent on how this first one is gonna go.

Jungkook tries to think of anything, really, just so he won’t constantly be glancing at you in his periphery, as you talk to the man from the other night and possibly make up. You did leave him at the restaurant last Saturday; you also did clarify that you’re not together. You just said you haven’t spoken since then, so it’s safe to say that both of you aren’t in good terms.

Jungkook can only assume, though. He doesn’t know the story, nor would he ever; he reminds himself he shouldn’t be thinking about it in the first place. He was never one to be privy to his staff’s personal lives; he spent most of his time with Lucas but didn’t know more than his family's composition. Jungkook doesn’t even recall knowing if Lucas had a partner, or if his then-assistant even mentioned it.

But clearly, Hoseok knows more about you than Jungkook would’ve expected. Perhaps it’s just how his cousin is, or maybe the time spent together just created that environment where it’s natural or normal. Maybe it’s the culture that his father encouraged; his old man is quite close with Mr. Ri - his former chauffeur and bodyguard - and Mrs. Myung - his executive assistant, after all.

But it’s not what Jungkook is used to; it’s not how he spent his few years in the Singapore office because like always, all he did was work and party. His mentor in graduate school also advised him that professional lines are ones he shouldn’t cross. Though Jungkook never really knew what exactly those were, he just dared not get close to anyone or be remotely interested at all, and that never caused him any problem. He’s always been safe where he was, guarded and unbothered.

But ever since you walked through those doors at Hoseok’s office that first Friday, Jungkook has been finding himself skirting near the boundaries far too often, and it’s only been a month. It began with making sure you’re eating well and that you’re safe on the way to work; he convinces himself that’s human decency, although he never really bothered much before.

And between wanting you to get proper rest before your trip to your hometown, to seeing you with that man from last weekend and being so bothered by it that it caused a scene, Jungkook’s internal alarm bells are ringing, telling him that he’s getting too interested, too close. It doesn’t help that he finds you attractive, something he doesn’t have control over. What he does have a say in is how he responds to it, and that has been incredibly tough, especially given the weekend he’s had.

He’d spent the rest of it trying to keep his mind off you - the way you looked in that outfit, the way your touch sent shivers down his spine, the way you’d looked at him worriedly… And when you walked out of that restaurant, he wondered what you were thinking, how you were feeling, how you’d be spending the rest of the night, and if you were gonna be home okay. He hasn’t really stopped since.

Even now, as he stays in his seat and tightly grips his glass of wine at the scene unfolding outside.

You’re standing with your arms crossed - setting the boundaries, and perhaps signaling your detachment, though he can’t see your face. The man, on the other hand, seems emotional, the tinge of sadness evident on his face. But there’s a mix of frustration and anger, too, as his arms flail around. He points at you, then at himself. His voice seems raised; Jungkook swears he can see the veins from the man’s neck popping out while you… you’ve got your head turned to the side, your body not eliciting much of the emotion the way the man’s is.

Jungkook stops himself from making an excuse for you to come back inside, just so he can pull you away from a conversation that you don’t seem to be wanting to have. But he knows it’s not his place, and the man might make a scene again if Jungkook decides to step in. You know how to stand up for yourself; you’d done it to him, he reminds himself. You’ll do what you need to do, whatever it is.

The man heaves, as whatever monologue he was giving ends. He reaches out to you, perhaps making a final plea, but you step back, widening the distance. It’s what prompts him to bow his head and turn around, leaving you by the lamppost on your own.

Jungkook sighs in relief now and he waits for you to return, but he’s surprised when you stay rooted in your spot, your arms wrapping around yourself despite the heat outside. He worries when you enter, your head bowed down and unable to look at him.

He wants to ask how you are, but he’s unsure if he’s ready for your answer, knowing that there isn’t much he can do anyway. So he goes with what he knows - detachment.

“I’ve chosen the last two dishes,” he says. “They’re serving the desserts soon.”

You turn to him immediately, your misty eyes painted with worry meeting his own.

“I didn’t think I was away that long,” you state, worried about the time you left your boss waiting while dealing with a personal matter that for the first time made you wish you were stuck with Jungkook instead. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon.”

He didn’t expect you to look so upset. He’s terrible at comforting people, but even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t know if he’d manage to comfort you. So he just shrugs and says that they were straightforward dishes.

You both try the desserts then the canapés, exchanging thoughts about all the options before shortlisting your chosen dishes. By the time the food tasting is over, you’re stuffed and set for the rest of the day.

You try not to look at Jungkook. You don’t know if he’d seen how your conversation went with Hajoon, but if he had, he could probably tell what was going on even if he couldn’t hear anything.

He’s had his moments, but you’ve never seen Hajoon look that upset and emotional, and you stood there, afraid to face all his feelings that you didn’t know what to do with, all those words that you didn’t know how to take. You’re usually one who’s able to let negative things said to you just go over your head, but something about what he’d said today hit you; you know it’ll take you until tomorrow to get over them.

But you try to get through the rest of the day the way you usually do - going through reports, organizing schedules, finalizing tomorrow’s presentation, and then working on the revised interdepartmental guidelines that Jungkook tasked you to do.

There are draft letters you send to him, thinking that you’ll work on some administrative matters while he reviews them, but you’re surprised when he calls for you 10 minutes later, saying the letters are approved and you can send them in the morning. You’re left wondering, given that anything you submit to him usually goes through intense scrutiny. Perhaps you’re not used to this easy pass, but you try not to overthink it, given the day you’ve had.

“You can go home, Ms. Cho,” he says as he types away.

It’s 5:30 PM. Usually this time, he’s still handing you things to review or instructing you on what else to do.

He seems to pick up on your silence, as without looking at you, he clarifies. “I don’t need you to do things you can do tomorrow. We’ll have meetings all day so I understand if you want to stay behind but you don’t have to.”

He doesn’t seem like he’ll be finishing soon, and you’re really not in the best mood so you nod and bid him goodbye.

The conversation with Hajoon stays in your mind all night and lasts until the next day. You’re in Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning, preparing his breakfast while he takes a shower.

With your phone snug under your neck, you relay to Soomin what happened yesterday. She was too busy last night for a call and she’s been bugging you since you got in the car - that you continue to ride as per your boss’ instructions - so you finally picked up, knowing how long it usually takes for Jungkook to finish.

“It started with him apologizing, then wondering why I haven’t been picking up his calls, then justifying his actions from last Saturday as him, standing up for me,” you narrate. “Obviously, I didn’t take those too kindly. But he said he wanted to be with me, like, have an actual relationship. And I said I didn’t want to then he just… he kinda just said everything he’s been keeping in.”

“Which is what?” Soomin asks.

“That I’m selfish, that I don’t think about what my actions may mean to others, which is silly since I was clear from the start about what I wanted from him,” you sigh. “He said that I act independent but that’s just a front, that deep down I’m a lonely woman who’ll probably push away every person who’s shown me they care until I have no one left and that’s why I’ll be alone forever, which he says is a deep fear that I have because I apparently told him that when I was drunk. And even after all that, he said he still cares about me, that he wants to try to be something for real this time, that if I just let him, he’ll love me right and make me happy and I just backed away, like, why would you—”

The clearing of the throat cuts you off, and you nearly drop the expensive plate due to panic once you look up and see Jungkook standing by the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry for taking a personal call, Mr. Jeon,” you say immediately, putting away your phone. “It won’t happen again.”

You bow your head down in apology, which is why you don’t see the way Jungkook’s eyes soften as he looks at you. Words like that hurt, and he can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like for you hearing them. Still, you went about yesterday with your accomplished tasks and completed deliverables like it didn’t happen, displaying a kind of strength that he could only hope to have.

“Yesterday was a tough, I suppose,” he states, choosing to ignore your apology.

“It was a normal one,” you brush off, walking towards him to fix his tie, not meeting his gaze.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, knowing you don’t want to acknowledge that he’d overheard your conversation, which he didn’t mean to walk in on. It did bother him, too; he suddenly wishes he’d fought back if that man was just going to speak to you that way.

There’s a sadness in your eyes that he tries not to mind and which you try to trivialize. Perhaps the man matters that much to you for you to be feeling this bad; Jungkook doesn’t really know what to do with that thought. So he tries to brush it off, too, telling you instead to be ready for today’s meeting with his father.

You ask if he’s checked the presentation you worked on, as you added things from the last time. He nods and says he only added minimal details that he came up with last night, and you check to find that he indeed just made minute changes, another thing that you’re thankful for yet wary of, especially given how critical he was about your work in the beginning.

You continue with your morning routine of debriefing about yesterday’s meetings, then you finalize the Arts Center event’s menu in the car. When you arrive at the office, you wait patiently as he goes through some reports that you’ve checked, then he reviews some memos that he asked you to work on.

The last one finishes faster than you expected. It seems now that his comments are what you look for, only because it reminds you that he hasn’t changed; somehow that seems like a better thought to have than him suddenly being lenient or lowering his standards for you for some unknown reason. He’s definitely witnessed some of your low moments; you don’t want to think those have anything to do with how he’s been lately.

The meeting with the management support team ends before lunch time, and you work on the minutes and the other things Jungkook had asked of you during the time that he meets with Yoongi in his office. That takes another half hour, and by the time they’re done, you’re done with your tasks, too, so you send those documents to Jungkook for checking in the afternoon.

Another one off the list, you think to yourself. At this point, you’re just going over all your deliverables with a focused mindset and waiting for the day’s end so you can spend time for yourself, just on the couch watching variety shows and movies until the weekend comes when you can do that for longer hours.

Having your friends over or traveling to Daegu are the only other things you look forward to. You used to look forward to spending the night at Hajoon’s, too; you could at least feel something pleasurable - the closest you could get to any form of intimacy that didn’t require you to bare yourself other than your body. But that’s a thing of the past now - there’s that amazing life-changing toy that Soomin got you last Sunday that’s got you thinking that you’ll be fine being alone for the rest of your life.

“Long day, huh?”

You look up and see Yoongi, his curious eyes scanning your desk full of papers, folders, and half-eaten biscuits.

“It has been,” you sigh.

“I see. It’s also only just 12 noon,” he points out.

“What a shocking revelation, Min Yoongi,” you grunt. “I don’t need to be reminded that I have another six hours here.”

“Hmm, just like me. So, what are you looking forward to when you clock out?”

“My leftover stir-fry for dinner that I’m going to add beef to,” you respond. “And The Zone. I missed it last Monday.”

“You and your variety shows,” he chuckles.

“What other reason do I have to laugh, hmm?”

“I’d say me, but you don’t find me funny.”

“You aren’t, sorry,” you smile, your first of the day, and Yoongi smiles back, knowing you haven’t been doing it the past few weeks.

“So–”

“Ms. Cho,” Jungkook’s voice cuts Yoongi off, as your boss stands by his open door with curious eyes that flit from you to the man in front of you. He recovers though, as he instructs, “the minutes are fine. Send it to the team now so they can work on their tasks.”

“You’ve read it?” You speak too soon, realizing a second too late that the words didn’t stay in your head. Your widened eyes don’t help you though, as Jungkook scowls at you.

“Are you asking me if I’ve read the file that I just approved and instructed you to disseminate?”

Yoongi purses his lips to hold off a laugh, and you glare at him because his teasing isn’t really what you need right now.

“I meant, uh, you’ve reviewed it already, sir? I… thought… you were going to prepare for the lunch meeting instead,” you reason, which isn’t even a lie.

“I have. Father hasn’t called me up so I just reviewed the minutes while waiting.”

You look at the file and see that nothing has been added. “And? That’s it?”

“Ms. Cho, are you questioning my ability to review?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to look displeased, although they seem harmless compared to his frustrated expressions from the past.

“No, Mr. Jeon, I apologize,” you say. “I was wondering if you didn’t have anything more to add, that’s all.”

“There’s none,” he clarifies. “Just send it to the team and uh… get ready for the meeting.”

He glances at Yoongi before closing the door.

“Questioning your boss’ ability to review now, huh?” Yoongi teases.

“Shut up. He’s just been weird,” you pout.

“That’s new. How so?”

“He hasn’t been an asshole for a few days.”

“Well, that’s quite the standard but I get you, I guess,” Yoongi hums. “In what way has he been out of character?”

“He just… hasn’t been pointing things out and correcting my submissions or asking a lot of questions about the reports I review,” you say. “Or just… you know, he hasn’t been him. He makes Mr. Ri pick me up every morning, he doesn’t email on the weekend, I get to leave on time, I get to eat properly…”

“In short, he’s been a decent boss recently?”

“I guess… I mean, it’s been two weeks since my mishap. He’s been quite tolerable these past few days. Maybe he hit his head and some loose screws tightened. Maybe he had a bad dream and the ghost of the future me visited him. Maybe he had a change of heart… though that’s highly unlikely. Maybe he–”

“Realized he hasn’t been good to you and doesn’t want you to go through the horror of another Mrs. Byun,” Yoongi interjects.

Your curious eyes prompt him to continue. “We had a meeting the other day and I saw a folder on his desk with her name on it. Formal complaints are only available in physical copies; other personnel files are stored in the server, so the only documents he’d have of her are the ones of her investigation. And he’d only be interested in that because of you. Those include your written statements.”

“As do you yours,” you point out.

“Yes, he’d totally be interested in how his design lead witnessed a manager’s abuse of power three years ago,” Yoongi sarcastically says.

You sigh to yourself. You’ve never told Jungkook about your experience with Mrs. Byun, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok or even Yoongi has mentioned it to him. It’s an experience you don’t like to think about; you were a young woman who had everything to prove, who had a lot to lose, and conceding to someone taking advantage of you seemed like the only way to survive. Not once did you put your foot down, and not once did you stand up for yourself. You experienced all those then went home to an empty house and found comfort in your own warmth and your own breathing.

You don’t want that experience to determine how others would treat you after. Hoseok was all things gentle and warm and you know that whatever you went through wouldn’t have determined how he treated you.

But Jungkook… Jungkook is different. This isn’t his default state. This isn’t how he normally is. This isn’t how you started. The last thing you want is for him to feel pity for all that you went through - in the past and recently - and then treat you differently because of it. He’s been less critical, less judgmental, and less doubtful of your capabilities. You only wish it isn’t for anything that he’d read or seen you experience.

“I doubt it,” you shake your head. “A man that perpetually displeased doesn’t just decide one day that he’d give the bare minimum of decency to his assistant.”

“Look, ___. Jungkook is a lot of things. He has a lot of feelings that he doesn’t want to deal with, and a lot of emotions he doesn’t know how to express,” Yoongi tries to explain. “I wouldn’t be friends with him if I didn’t believe there’s an ounce of goodness in him. And there is. Maybe him showing it just isn't good timing. He’s terrible at that, too. In fact, he’s terrible at a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t try. It doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of kindness.”

“Kindness,” you huff. That’s quite a reach, but Yoongi’s always been a good judge of character. You do want to believe what he says about Jungkook; it’s just not an easy switch to flip. “I’m just trying not to care much at this point,” you sigh. “I come to work, focus on my tasks, do whatever I’m asked, go back home, rinse and repeat.”

“Is it satisfying, though?”

“When was work ever satisfying, Yoongi?” You laugh bitterly.

“Well, I could at least recall seeing you enjoy organizing those events for Hoseok and even joining him in some,” Yoongi points out. “I… I saw you smile a lot. There was a bit of satisfaction there, yeah?”

“Somehow, I guess. But I just had to make do. Hoseok was great, but this is also my job, really the only thing going for me.”

“What are you working towards, then?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe at 30 I should know but I really don’t.”

“Then why are you still here?” He asks, softly, desperately. “Why do you stay?”

“And find out who I am outside of all this?” You wonder out loud. “What if I don’t like her? What if she isn’t good?”

“Then this place hasn’t been good for you if you doubt who you are outside of what you’ve done here,” Yoongi says. “You’re just 30; there’s a whole world out there where you can learn who you are and be someone you actually like. I don’t know what’s stopping you.”

A lot of things, you think to yourself. But when you find comfort in discomfort, when you find security in chaos, and when you find companionship in loneliness, it’s not that easy to leave all this behind, even if deep down, you know it’s what you have to do.

“I don’t know, too,” you lie. “Maybe I’ll find a good enough reason one day and that would be it; I’ll be out of here and then I can find out if I like myself outside of everything I know.”

“I think you would.”

I did, Yoongi thinks to himself. He knows you’d laugh and agree; he’s moved on from you and things can’t be any better than how your friendship is right now, but he also knows you’re not the best at feelings, a similarity he realizes you have with the person you supposedly dislike.

“I won’t know until then, I guess. So I just gotta bear with who I am now,” you say.

There’s so much of you that Yoongi doesn’t know. It’s why he wanted to, why he asked you out for coffee and why he felt a bit of a heartbreak when you turned him down. But there are parts of you that he does know, that you let him see, and sometimes he finds himself wishing you’d find someone you’d feel safe enough with to share everything else you keep to yourself.

He keeps these things to himself, too. He’s learned that the only way to keep you close is to keep his distance; you’ll reach out if you need to, even if it’s something you rarely do. But what’s important is that he’ll be there just in case; what matters is you know that there’s a hand available when you need it.

So he just nods and takes your word for it. You’ll find yourself somehow, in whatever way you will. And you’ll find a reason to leave, whenever that is. He could only hope it’s a decision you’d make on your own, one that you won’t regret, and one that’ll lead you to find whatever it is that you’re looking for.

“So what, they want to put a stop to the Arts Center? They’re not the ones working hard for it. And quite frankly, I don’t need their help in any way to make it happen.”

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, anger manifesting in the way he clenches his jaw and groans repeatedly. It’s a sight you’re familiar with by now, and for the first time, you feel for him. It feels as if with this project, he doesn’t seem to have anyone on his side, aside from Hoseok, who’s been encouraging and helpful in many ways.

“They don’t want to stop it, son,” CEO Jeon says. “They’re merely questioning some of your decisions about the prices you’ve set out.”

“In short, they’re undermining me,” Jungkook groans. “This is my project. We’ve done the necessary research. If they read the report, they’d know. But clearly, they just want reasons to doubt all this, to doubt me.”

“It’s just the first project of its kind,” his father reasons. “The arts institution from 2017 was a collaboration and it wasn’t this big. The Arts Center just isn’t the usual commercial establishment that the VP office undertakes. The Board just wants to be clear about the profits because it’s not as straightforward as the others. They want to know how the property will earn.”

“Exhibition entrance tickets, bookings, rent,” Jungkook replies. “What’s not straightforward about that? Might as well say they don’t understand or even value arts and culture because that makes money, and if done right and respectfully, it can make a lot of money. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not like I didn’t make those points, son. It’s your first big project. I think they just—”

“Don’t believe I can manage it on my own.”

“They don’t think you can make the necessary connections on your own,” CEO Jeon finally says. “We all know how important that is. They doubt you’d be able to forge good relationships with professionals in an industry we don’t really have strong connections to. And with a project this big, it’s the company’s resources and reputation on the line.”

There’s silence in the room, as Jungkook seems to process the core issue that the Board has with him. You can tell it’s affecting him so much, as the anger in his eyes slowly turns into resignation.

It’s no secret that Jungkook’s way of engaging with others leaves a lot to be desired. From what you can see, he’s used to thinking more, envisioning, planning - the concepts and designs are amazing in his head and there are others tasked to sell that idea, to make it connect with people, to express why it matters, and to make sure it earns. That’s what Hoseok is good at; Jungkook never seemed like the type who enjoys that aspect of the work.

“You should’ve thought about my outstanding interpersonal skills before appointing me as Vice President, then,” he says bitterly. “Clearly that’s what the Board and everyone else value more than anything.”

“Hey, Kook. We know you’re good for this role,” Hoseok comforts. “And we believe in your project, we really do. Just focus on that. Make sure you’re constantly adjusting and refining the plans, and remind the Board that your ideas are even better when they’ve come to life. You’ve done it with your other projects before. Eventually you’ll be able to show them that you’re more than capable of forging relationships, too. That’ll come naturally. But in the meantime, you just have to give them something to make them believe it’ll be good for the company and our image in the long-run. Make them envision it.”

“I have,” Jungkook argues. “And I’ll keep doing that. I just need father to be on my side. I just need him to back me up, to trust me and every single one of my decisions.”

You’ve never heard desperation in Jungkook’s voice until today and you’re surprised with how much it’s affecting you, not just because you know how much effort he’s put into conceptualizing the place but because you’ve come to believe in it, too.

“Ms. Cho.”

CEO Jeon’s voice pulls you away from Jungkook, and you turn to the older man and ask if there’s anything he needs.

“Your thoughts,” he responds. “What would the Arts Center mean for the company? Do you think it will yield profits?”

They’re not questions that are new to you. Hoseok would often ask you these things about the smaller projects that go through him. CEO Jeon has asked you the same things in informal situations before, not so much to gain new insight - although he claims that your thoughts are interesting to him - but to gauge your belief in the project. He has a good read on people; you’ve observed him ask questions and pick apart not what they said but how they said it. You suppose that’s what he’s doing now, too.

“You’ve mentioned a few times that you want to expand the company’s market, Mr. Jeon,” you start. “And if I remember correctly, the Board agreed. Efforts to cater to expats and the middle class have been successful, but perhaps another type of expansion is in engaging the field of the arts and culture and its creators and consumers. More people from all walks of life and all over the world are gaining interest in Korean art and culture in all forms and the company has the resources to create a space for it. Like what the Vice President said, there’s an opportunity to earn from it while, of course, respecting it.”

You see CEO Jeon and Hoseok nod, a sight you’ve seen before as well. But Jungkook looks at you with curiosity, with a look of anticipation, as if he’s hanging onto every word you’re saying.

“The Arts Center was conceptualized and designed to be a hub for all things creative,” you continue. “Making general admission free makes the arts accessible to people, and once that appreciation grows, they’ll pay to see it, to experience it. Just go to any online forum and you’ll see that the public wants to experience art, not just observe it. They’d travel for it. The Center has spaces for that. I think that’s the ultimate goal - for anyone to be immersed in it. And that can happen through art pieces in a gallery or in a garden, through books, music, or spoken poetry, or even a photoshoot. Patrons can book rooms for private events, they can buy from the gift shop, they can do art themselves. It’s like a canvas and they can take part in creating meaning for the space. That’s what we’re selling. And that’s something people are willing to buy.”

“I see your point, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says, nodding satisfyingly at you. “And it’s a good one.”

“It’s what Mr. Jeon has been saying all this time,” you counter. “It’s easy to understand and to buy into the idea… if only the Board would listen to him. If only they’d open their mind to what he envisions.”

“Well, that’s one way to get through to them, then,” Hoseok voices out. “Invite them to the arts event, treat them like creators and consumers, not as Board members.”

“That’s a good idea,” CEO Jeon says. “Maybe then they can see how you engage with the guests, which I hope you’re working on. And while you’re at it, work on your relationship with them, too. That means initiating conversations, seeking them out… It's part of the job, son. The Board are our stakeholders, too, you know this.”

“Aren’t some of them based in Japan and Singapore?” You wonder aloud, hinting at another suggestion that you want would come from Jungkook himself, given his scheduled plans to fly there.

“Yeah. Maybe I can meet them the next time I go,” he says, picking up on your thoughts.

Jungkook isn’t really fond of engaging with them. He always just left the socializing part to his uncle who used to head the Southeast Asian office. When Jungkook would be in Seoul, he let his father, Hoseok, and Ji-woo deal with them, with nothing but an acknowledgment on his end. He tends to stay at the bar on his own just to drown out the sounds. Yoongi sometimes joins him but most times, Jungkook finds himself alone even during such events; being with a lot of people is tiring, lonesome, isolating. With this new role, he’s started to accept that he has to do more. It doesn’t mean he’ll enjoy it though.

“I’ll have that arranged for you,” you tell him.

“Well then, that’s one way to revamp your image,” the older man smiles. “You just have to keep that up moving forward. That’s why Ms. Cho is there. She’s used to these events and these engagements with them. You’ll be fine.”

You give a reassuring smile to Jungkook - a genuine one, as you see it’s what he needs, given all that you learned from today’s meeting. He merely nods, and you think that should be enough of an acknowledgment from his end.

Hoseok wraps it up, going through a few policy-related items and then reminding the other men about upcoming social gatherings that they all need to attend. He asks to briefly speak with Jungkook, whom he pulls aside, while the elder Mr. Jeon approaches you.

“Thank you for standing by Jungkook, Ms. Cho, especially since I haven’t been able to show my support the way I want to,” he says. “I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“It hasn’t, but he made me believe in his vision for the Center,” you respond. “I’m starting to see what he sees. And it’s quite beautiful.”

Jungkook overhears the exchange, as he zoned out on Hoseok once he heard his father address you.

It’s something that his cousin picks up, as he repeats what he just said, totally unbothered by it.

Hoseok, of all people, knows how important it is that you have Jungkook’s back. He also knows how difficult that must be for you, given how the man has been towards you all these weeks.

But you’re unwavering. You’re able to withstand the challenges, and while Hoseok knows that you do have a tendency to also allow yourself to suffer through it, he also knows you’ve learned, and you’ll stand your ground if you need to; he’ll back you up, and he can only hope you know that.

You all exit the private room of the restaurant and head back to the office across the street. It’s 4PM by the time you return to your desk, given that Jungkook called for a meeting with the management support team after what transpired during lunch.

You immediately work on the minutes and action points, finishing two hours later and then deciding that you’ll work on your next deliverable tomorrow.

Jungkook exits his room, informing you that he’ll be leaving for an early dinner with Hoseok at a nearby restaurant, and that Mr. Ri can drop you off at your place. You’ve contested the service that was offered to you, and you and Jungkook settled on a compromise that you can go home on your own except for late nights.

“Mr. Ri will just be waiting for me anyway. No harm in driving you home tonight,” Jungkook says, knowing you were about to turn down the offer.

“Okay, sir,” you reply.

You do last minute things and pack up immediately to go home, taking this chance to get proper rest because you know the last two days of the week are going to be tiring.

The next day, Jungkook does conference calls and closed-door meetings, leaving you to do summary reports and other administrative backlogs that have your eyebrows scrunched the entire day. If it wasn’t for Do-hyun reminding you about lunch that you promised to have with her, you would’ve totally forgotten.

You’re in the zone as you go through the afternoon - two meetings straight that have Jungkook rubbing his temples constantly and you doing the same. But you pop in some aspirin and ginseng jelly next to his cup of tea, feeling satisfied when he takes them.

You go home on time, not wanting to be offered a ride for a consecutive night, and you get proper rest to face the final day of the week.

It’s all going well, as you find a rhythm early on as you work on your deliverables while Jungkook remains focused on his own tasks. You’re the one who reminds him now to eat his lunch, and seeing the blueprints sprawled on his desk, you offer to buy him one yourself.

He nods in appreciation as you state his usual order for confirmation, and you eat your sandwich while waiting for his curry rice bowl in the food hall. You get back to your tasks, thankful for the unusually quiet and uneventful Friday.

You see now how hyper focused Jungkook could get. He’s got his blinds closed but you can tell that he’s immersed in his designs and proposals and plans. He’s not allowing calls or visitors, and he only rings you to ask for coffee, which you’ve given him four times so far. Towards the end of the day, you’re the one who asks to go in, informing him that the Board meeting has been moved to a week earlier than scheduled; it’s two Fridays from now, which means his team has to finalize everything soon.

It’s his first one since becoming Vice President, and given how he used to question you, you’re surprised when he asks your proposed timeline to prepare for the meeting.

“Manager Lee is already consolidating all the departmental reports,” you respond. “You can instruct him to finalize the VP report with all those by Wednesday; the presentation can be due on Friday so you can go through all of them. We can submit the report for CEO review the Monday after that and then you can prepare for your run through until the meeting.”

“Sounds good,” he replies. “I’ll send them an email with the instructions shortly.”

“Noted, sir,” you say. “I’ve also submitted the minutes of the past two days’ meetings as well as the policy guidelines you asked for.”

“Oh, right,” he says, taking his iPad. “I’ve looked through them. The minutes are good; you can disseminate them accordingly. I’ve highlighted the parts for the condensed version you’ll send to the CEO and the President. I also have minimal corrections and remarks on the policy guidelines and I’ve edited them directly on the file. Just proofread again and then affix my signature once you’ve finished.”

“Y—you’re done?” You ask. You hope he doesn’t pick up the shock in your voice.

“Yes, and I’ve read them. Thoroughly,” he answers.

You smile in embarrassment after the other day.

“Does that bother you?” He follows up.

“N-no, sir,” you say, knowing he’s waiting for an answer. “I guess I was expecting you to take longer because, you know, more comments. And you’ve been busy all day, too.”

“More comments… Is that what you’re expecting?”

“Sort of,” you admit. “I mean… you made a lot of them before.”

You pout in reflex as you realize how you sound. You’re basically pointing out how critical he used to be, and if you’re being honest, you do wish he still was. At least that tells you that he’s still the same, that no knowledge of your past experience with your former boss has made him change his disposition towards you.

Jungkook sees your pout, and he crosses his arms and legs to keep himself from doing something as stupid as wiping it off you. It’s a little disarming for him, if he’s being honest.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” you clarify.

Liar, you think to yourself.

“Well, if I used to do it a lot and I still do that after a month in, wouldn’t it reflect poorly on you and me if you still haven’t learned from all that?” He asks.

You think about it and eventually nod. He does have a point.

“You’ve adapted. I’d be worried if you continued to do things the way you used to,” he adds.

You nod again, taking in all his words. Much as you appreciate them, there’s another thought still bugging you.

“May I be honest, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, your heart beating fast now as he looks at you curiously.

He nods anyway and asks you to continue.

“I don’t think you’d lower your standards or anything when it comes to my work,” you start. “So I don’t want to believe that you pity me just because you know what I experienced in the past.”

He looks at you questioningly, as if to ask what you’re talking about.

“I spotted Mrs. Byun’s files on your table,” you lie. “I assume you’ve read about how she treated me. And I… I don’t want to be pitied, Mr. Jeon. If it’s that, please don’t. Please don’t let it affect how you’d treat me. It wasn’t even that bad—”

“It was,” he interjects. “This company doesn’t tolerate people who abuse their power. I only knew about your case because I’m thorough with my work. And that includes looking into my staff and their past. I did it for everyone,” he lies as well.

Hoseok and Yoongi had mentioned something about a past experience and Jungkook did dig deep. It was so he could help you professionally, he convinced himself.

“You should also know that I don’t make compromises when it comes to the quality of work of my staff and that means I don’t pity people if they fail to meet my standards. But I suppose you think that I do because of how I was in the beginning,” he continues, surprising you. “I admit I was being too critical. And I don’t have an excuse, just that I absolutely hate change. I’m not good at managing it and I reacted in a way that I’m used to, which is not a good way at all. I know now that I was not fair to you.”

The apology doesn’t come, but you know that the admission means enough already. It’s definitely taken a huge burden off of you. You didn’t dream up all those incidents and it wasn’t entirely on you. That itself gives you relief.

“My father and cousin were right. You’re a fast learner. You pick up on the comments, work on them immediately, and adjust accordingly. It’s a good trait to have, Ms. Cho.”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Jeon.”

“May I be honest, too?” He asks, surprising you again.

You nod, anticipating what he’d say, knowing he’s never been this quiet nor looked this nervous in all these weeks you’ve known him.

“What you said to my father about the Arts Center the other day, I appreciate that, too,” he says. “I guess you could’ve said something general or basic but you didn’t.”

“Your father wouldn’t have minded what I said,” you reply. “What mattered was how I said it. I guess as the person who’s privy to a lot of things about the project, he sincerely wanted to know what I thought about it, if I genuinely believed in it.”

“Well, it was a good way to convince him. And it seemed like he believed you.”

“I’m not a good actor, Mr. Jeon,” you chuckle. “He believed it because I meant it. And he saw that I was on your side. As I should. I still meant it, though.”

“That’s… encouraging,” he huffs. “At least one person is.”

“I’m sure he does, too.”

“It’s ironic that people like Mr. Ri think that my father and I are so alike, yet we don’t see eye to eye most of the time.”

“It’s because you are alike. You both think you’re right all the time,” you joke, teetering on the edge and sighing in relief when he laughs, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard.

“You make a good point,” he smiles a tiny bit, something you also don’t think you’ve ever seen him do. “But I’m still adjusting to working directly with him, and in a bigger role, too. We'll probably butt heads a lot.”

“You will. I already know it. In fact, I can already see it,” you laugh again.

It’s a moment you share with him that you didn’t imagine you ever would. He’s being honest about his concerns and you’re giving comfort in the way you know how and neither of you seems to mind.

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help, Ms. Cho,” he says so softly, his eyes turning away from you. “I’m gonna need your assistance. Not just in seeing the Arts Center through but in everything - navigating this role, dealing with my father, dealing with people. I… I know what I’m good at. So I don’t really focus on the things I don’t do well in but this position forces me to confront those and I… I’ll need help.”

For someone who doesn’t seem to like being vulnerable in front of others, seeing this side of Jungkook makes you sympathetic. The soft tone of his voice, the lack of eye contact, the crossed arms… they’re familiar because it’s how you are, and you know it’s difficult to be this honest with another person, especially when it’s about what you need.

More than wanting to help him because it’s your job, you find yourself wanting to see him succeed, too, to see him manage it all. That way, when you do eventually leave the company and search whatever it is you’re looking for, you can rest easy knowing that he’ll be okay, that the team will be okay, that the Arts Center will be all that he imagined it to be.

“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I’ll do my best to provide you with the assistance you need.”

“Thank you,” he mutters, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say those words with such sincerity to you, too.

You bow in acknowledgement and head out, leaving Jungkook in a haze, as he realizes that in your presence, he’d done what he's been trying to avoid ever since you walked in his life - be honest. He’d told you his concerns, his needs, and it seems that his honesty is something you appreciated as well. There was that acceptance that he wouldn’t have expected from you, not because you aren’t the type to give it but because he hasn’t given you a reason to. But you gave it regardless; you let him feel that it was okay.

It’s another half hour before he’s packing up to head home. It’s been a tiring week and he just wants to have a long bath, watch sports, and drink a cold beer over grilled meat. He’ll probably get some work done but maybe he’ll drive to some resort out of town, have a good workout, get in a sauna, and have a massage. He’ll have a nice meal with his friends and then go to a club. Or maybe he’ll just stay in. There’s something about being honest that makes him want to keep to himself for a while. He’ll start with that tonight, as he turns down Taehyung’s invite to another one of his client’s party.

Jungkook walks out and sees your desk empty, but he does hear your voice coming from the management support team’s room, telling them about your weekend plans as well.

“I’m going to the film festival in Incheon,” you say. “And probably just stay at a hostel.”

“Are you going by yourself?” Do-hyun asks.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply.

Hajoon was supposed to go with you. He invited himself, actually, and you should’ve read into the fact that he’d wanted to experience your interests with you. You hadn’t minded, and that’s clearly out of the picture now.

“I usually go to them by myself,” you add.

“Well, if you decide you want to invite one of us or hang out, you can always let us know,” Chin-sun teases, knowing you probably won’t.

“Let’s wait until we’re not too tired and busy, okay?” You chuckle. “That way, we can afford to do whatever we want on the weekends.”

“Yup, that’ll probably never happen,” Do-hyun pouts. “When are we not tired and busy? It’s probably worse this time because we don’t get to laugh and joke around like we used to. Are we even getting a holiday? Will we have an out-of-town team building? Or dinners and karaoke like how Mr. Jung used to treat us to?”

“The team-building is budgeted so yes, we’ll have it,” you tell them. “And dinners? I can maybe suggest that to Mr. Jeon. And come on, no one’s stopping you from laughing or joking around. You can still do all that.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I feel like I’m not allowed to because it might seem like I’m not serious about my job because our boss is too serious and it doesn’t seem right,” Do-hyun whines.

And for the first time, you feel genuinely bad for how they think about Jungkook. You don’t blame them though, but the man you saw earlier who broke into a small smile is definitely capable of laughter; you just don’t know how to elicit it from him again.

“He’s just been under a lot of pressure, but he doesn’t prohibit you from finding joy in anything,” you say. “Just… give him some time, okay? He’ll come around. Let’s just focus on our work and then focus on ourselves when the weekend comes. So all of you, pack up now and go home to your families and your pets. We’ve got a long few weeks ahead.”

Jungkook hears a collective okay then heads out right away, the initial thought of saying goodbye to the team having dissipated. He can’t blame them for voicing out their frustrations over the change in how they’re being managed. Hoseok was loved. He built a competent team whose spirit Jungkook is afraid he’s now breaking. But he’s not like his cousin, and he doesn’t know how to reach out to them in a way that’s genuine. He let the pressure get to him too much early on and while he’s not the type to forge connections with his staff, he’s seeing now how important it is for him as Vice President to do that.

But it’s too much to think about for today. He’ll let this affect him a little bit and then figure things out. Based on what he heard though, he’s not on his own. You were on his side again, even when you thought he wasn’t around. There’s something about the way you stand up to him and stand by him that’s refreshing. There’s honesty there, too, and he’s learning that it’s what he needs.

He makes it to the elevator but then holds the door once he hears rapid footsteps. You mutter your thanks as you enter, and he feels the tension build as you’re together after the exchange earlier. He hasn’t gotten over that yet, so he’s unsure how to talk with you.

It seems like so are you, as you drum your fingers on the strap of your bag and focus on the door while you both wait to make it to the ground floor. Jungkook is tempted to offer you a ride with him but he decides against it. Even then, he slows his steps so he could walk alongside you, as you both head out the main doors.

“Get some rest, Mr. Jeon,” you finally say. “And have a good weekend.”

You look at him with sincerity in your eyes, your smile soft and assuring, something he’s never seen you direct at him before. It’s even different from earlier. There’s more understanding, he thinks. Perhaps there’s care.

“You, too, Ms. Cho,” he replies before entering the car. “Get home safely.”

You bow to him and wave at Mr. Ri before walking down the pathway to the street that leads towards the bus stop.

Jungkook lets himself be comfortable in the seat while he forces the image of your smile out of his head. The sun has set and it’s Seoul at its busiest on another hot Friday evening. There are more cars than usual and so movement is slow, but that’s how he sees you - walking down the sidewalk in the midst of all these people. And there you are, somehow looking at peace. There’s an air of isolation that surrounds you, but you don’t look lonely. Just… alone. There’s still that warmth in your eyes and your smile that he finds himself wanting to see more of.

This is when he realizes he might be in trouble. There’s a line he shouldn’t cross, but there’s this desire to get to know you, to know your thoughts and your feelings and your words. He reminds himself that he needs you, in a way that an authority figure needs support and assistance. He needs you to be focused and capable, and he needs to be the same.

With his attraction that he can’t get over, he knows that the only way to make sure that he keeps things professional is to keep his distance - not just physically, but more so emotionally. You’ll definitely be spending more time together and he needs to constantly remind himself of who you are and who he is. That much as he feels safe and honest with you, he can’t go any further; he can’t let you get any closer. He doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but that’s one other thing he’ll figure out.

Series Masterlist

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

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bamsara · 4 months

Note

what are your most favorite tropes? :3c

IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED:

Near death experiences

Emotional revelations due to said near death experiences

Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Mutual Pining but they believe its unrequieted

"you're my worst enemy but you're so important to me"

Drunk chapter where at least One fist fight happens

Bridal carry after someone gets injured

Slow Burn...of course

"i got you this gift because it benefits me and im not telling you how" (the benefit is seeing the other person enjoy the gift)

Force Alliances or Temporary Truces

"I don't like killing but I'll do it for you"

"I prefer to kill my problems but I won't, for you."

Or: "This person has no idea how many people I've killed in order to protect or provide for them and I'm going to keep it that way."

Mean or Villian Character is actaully a really good Sibling/Parent/Child,ect and has someone they care about

Or better, Villian character adopts child AND is a good parent

Everyone knows the pairing likes each other except for the pairing

Temporary (or non-temp)Amnesia

"I learn your favorite things because I plan to use them against you one day" (proceeds to not do that) (proceeds to get them food or items that persons likes just because they like them)

Breaking and Entering. Literally.

Person A is in love, Person B says they're not but they're 10x times worse actaully

Slip-of-the-tongue/Accidental confessions. Doesn't have to be love confessions but just "whoops i was not supposed to say that"

Biting as a love language

One is feral and bloodthirsty but is put in the position of 'protecting an idiot' because the other is also feral and has no self-preservation. Both characters must be badass, just equally stupid

Kiss on the head/cheek while the other person is sleeping

Bloodstained kiss

Heat-of-battle confession about something

Protagonist refusing to become villian or repeat villian mistakes, not in a 'owo i cant do that its bad' and more like 'fuck you you dont get to see what you wanted to make of me'

Signifier of 'this is my friend/family/lover'. Could anything between a ring, a jacket over someone's shoudlers or scent marking, anything

"if im immortal, then you gotta be too or we both dyin"

Knight x Their Charge

Human x Non-Human

Sunshine x Grump

Character that looks sooooo cute. Oh he's a little fucked up actaully

"ahhaha he's such a freak haha. i need him carnally."

They are mortal enemies. They are also best friends.

Hostage / Rescued trope plus Hostage / Doesn't get to rescue because the hostage killed everyone already

Plot info that's missing that's vital to the story and it's revealed that One of the pairing or someone in the group knew the info the entire time

"I said mean things to you because I hate you, so why am I feeling guilty now"

There was only One Bed

Really competent and scary character is really GOOD at a harmless and charming small hobby completely uncharacteristic to their public persona

Nightmares. And then sleeping in the same bed because of nightmares

Cultural differences / Language Barrier

Character gets so surprised flustered they trip over something or break something and it topples and it starts a chain reaction like a cartoon

There are more but these are some of which I can remember off the top of my head. I've written many of these myself in several of my stories and will continue to do so until the end of time, esp my faves

#writings #writing list #trope list #sara shush

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unluckiestmember · 5 months

Note

can I get the main characters of blue eye samurai with a innocent fem reader? I loved your Arcane innocent reader <3

Coming right up!

Blue Eye Samurai X Innocent Fem! Reader

Characters: Mizu, Taigen, Ringo and Ito Akemi

Tags: Friends to lovers, workers to lovers, brothel, overprotective boyfriend/girlfriend, yandere themes, Ringo being Ringo, fluff, toxic(?) and open ending.

Warning: SFW

A/N: I'm so happy Blue Eye Samurai is getting the recognition it deserves! Who would you date? I'd get with Mizu or Taigen.

Mizu

“The stars are out tonight?... I can barely see them… It’s okay. At least I can see you… You’re beautiful…”

At first, Mizu found you to be as annoying like Ringo. You weren’t as annoying, but it was infuriating to travel with someone who was so fragile and couldn’t even defend themselves. She was surprised that with your demeanor you weren’t in a brothel or married to the next idiot of a samurai. She kept you at a distance, arm's length. But someway. Somehow. You slithered into her good graces and touched her heart.

When you two became a couple, Mizu began to treat you like a porcelain doll. If a man tried to touch you, their hand would be severed from their body in seconds. If someone bad-mouthed you, their tongue was cut out. Suddenly, you found yourself becoming a precious jewel to Mizu instead of a nuisance. During down time, she always checks up on you to see if you’re okay. Expect her to check if you have a temperature, if you’re hungry or thirsty. She wished deep down she could give up her mission to live a perfect life with you because that’s what you deserve. But promising such a thing is hard. At least for now, she has you and she will savor the time you both have together.

Taigen

“That was pretty cool, huh? You know I can teach you a thing or two if you say please… Haha! You’re cute when you pout!”

Unlike Mizu, Taigen found you to be a breath of fresh air on his journey to assist Mizu. He enjoyed how you were so pure in a world that was getting colder by the day. For a second, he was fearful of pursuing anything with you because of his relation to Akemi. But as the days went by and word started spreading fast of his lover’s affairs, the more Taigen lost hope in any future he could have with her. However, he gained hope in a future painted for you two.

Taigen is a mix of a man child and an amazing boyfriend when you two become a couple. He will tease you whenever you are being cute unintentionally or when you mess up doing something. It’s only because he loves your reactions to his commentary. He will also teach you how to protect yourself, preferably with a dagger. If you master using one, he’ll have you use a sword, but even then he’ll be a bit concerned it’s too much for you. On the battlefield, if he’s not showing off and winking at you after every kill, he’s quick to protect you from any harm. Let’s admit it. Taigen can be a pain in the ass. But he’s a great boyfriend.

Ringo

“You really think I can be a great samurai?! Then I’m going to train hard for both of us- I’ll be the greatest samurai for me and you!”

Ringo is a sweetheart. He didn’t expect to go on this journey to end up with a girlfriend, so when he scored one with you, you can imagine his surprise. He didn’t think much at first admittedly, but the more you kissed his cheek, nuzzled into his body on cold nights and threw him words of endearment, the more it settled. And boy did he adore having the title of being your amazing boyfriend!

With someone now to take care of, Ringo pushes himself to be an amazing samurai. He’s more persistent with his master to teach him how to use a sword and possess honor. He’ll even go as far as to ask Taigen to assist him if he can! Whenever he learns something new, he’s excitedly telling you all about it. If he finds anything interesting, he’s grabbing you gently to share it with you. If you’re looking for a ball of sunshine who’s both your friend and partner, look no further than Ringo.

Ito Akemi

“My darling. We will make our own path, away from this prejudice, these men- Everything that’s ever hurt us. That’s ever hurt you… You will never be hurt again. I swear it.”

Akemi knows all too well how it feels to be used and thrown away for your body if not your status. So when she met you at the brothel, she immediately clicked with you. She found your personality to be contagious along with your laughter. She spent every moment staring into your eyes filled with life, gently caressing your smooth skin just to make sure you were still there with her in this hell. You were the most beautiful flower she’s ever seen. You were a flower she couldn’t afford to be tainted.

She didn’t know why she fell for a woman or if it was a curse, but she loved you. She loved you enough to run away and spend as much life as she could with you until she was found by her father. But even then, nothing could hold her down. She was a princess who laid eyes on a commoner she wanted. That she needed. And no one would get in her way of having them. Of having you. She would destroy everything and bathe Japan in flames if it meant she could keep you in her warm embrace. She’d turn everyone into her enemy if you could be her lover. She’d be the villain if you were her savior… And that’s exactly what she was going to do.

If you got any requests for Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

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celestie0 · 2 months

Text

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)

a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere.

Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him.

One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.

The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.

You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.

He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”

“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.

“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.

He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.”

“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already.

His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”

You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.

“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”

You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”

He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.

“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”

He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”

You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”

You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.

The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it.

The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead.

You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk.

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.

“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”

“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”

“Yeah.”

“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”

“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.

“So definite no to hang out?”

“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”

You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”

“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says.

You glance at the time. 11:56am.

“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.

You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.

“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”

You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.

“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”

You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.”

She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”

You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.”

She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”

You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”

Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”

Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest.

“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.”

You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.

But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings.

“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”

Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”

Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”

She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”

–

The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you.

It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them.

Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed.

You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.

“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”

You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately.

Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.

“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible.

You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.

There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.

Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.

“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”

Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before.

“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks.

“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”

There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.

“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks.

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”

“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.

Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”

For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.

“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”

You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.”

Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.

The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase.

He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”

There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”

The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”

You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby.

The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.

Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.

“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.

The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.

“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.

You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”

The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”

“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”

She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.

She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you.

You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”

She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”

“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”

“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.

You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”

“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you.

“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.

You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.

“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”

The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.

You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.

“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.

The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”

“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.

All three of you look at him dumbfounded.

“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”

“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”

You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.

“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.

“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”

The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you.

“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.

He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”

“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.

“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.”

Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”

He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.

“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.

You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.

You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”

Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”

He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”

“But–” you start, stopping yourself.

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.

“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long.

“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”

He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”

“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.

He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.

“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”

Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”

“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.

“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.

He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.

You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing.

This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before.

“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.

“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.

You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”

“I will.”

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door.

It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously.

When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”

You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm.

You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?”

“No. I love it.”

“I’m not following.”

You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”

He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”

“Your problem,” you say.

“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.

“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”

“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.

You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.

“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.

Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.

He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”

The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.

He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?”

“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest.

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.

It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.

“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”

“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”

“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.

He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”

He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands?

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious.

You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.

“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.

He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.

You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.

“Yours are just big,” you tell him.

He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how.

Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.

“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.

“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”

You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”

“Reasons.”

“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”

He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”

You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it.

“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.

He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.

He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.

“Hey–”

“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.

“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”

When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters.

“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.

“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”

“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.

“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.

You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly.

He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”

You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.

He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.

You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.

“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.”

You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.

It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.

You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been.

You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.

“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”

“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”

He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”

You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”

He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”

“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”

You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly.

“Mhm, makes sense.”

His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.

You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”

“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too.

“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”

He nods. “You do.”

There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.

“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”

“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”

“I asked him for it.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”

“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”

There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”

You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”

He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”

“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”

“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”

“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.

You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you.

“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”

“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.

“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”

His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.”

You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.

“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.

“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly.

Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck.

Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.

–

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.

Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.

You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.

The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area.

It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.

Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”

You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.”

You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.

“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.

Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.

“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.

Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”

All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.

“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”

With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.

“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.

You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”

“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?”

“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.

He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”

“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.

He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says.

You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.

“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.

“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.

You meet his gaze. “No way.”

“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.”

You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”

He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”

You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.

“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”

You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”

He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”

You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”

The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.

“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”

“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”

“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”

“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”

He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”

You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”

He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”

He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.”

Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”

He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”

You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.

“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.

The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.

UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.

The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.

“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”

Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”

Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.

You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.

There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.

“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.

He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?”

You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him.

And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.

When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.

“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.

He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it.

“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.

“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”

You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.

“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”

“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”

He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”

“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”

“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.

“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.

He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”

��Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”

He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”

He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.

The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back.

You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear.

You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake.

Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.

|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera

|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way

The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there

a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off

➸ take me to chapter nine!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

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jelloooverse · 10 months

Text

in my yhk stupid era

[ID: An Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint comic. Kim Dokja says curiously, "I wonder how Lee Seolhwa and Yoo Joonghyuk are doing..." and Shin Yoosung perks up and exclaims, "Ah!" She pulls out her phone to show a picture of Seolhwa smiling and holding hands with a blank figure labeled Y/N and exclaims, "Ahjusshi! I heard that Seolhwa unnie is dating someone! they went on vacation. "I don’t know about Joonghyuk ahjusshi though...)"

Dokja, a shadow stretching from him, says, "Oh. I see." Behind him is a collage of imagined Dokjas looking despairing over a broken heart containing a smiling Joonghyuk and Seolhwa, overlaid with the all-caps text "OTP is dead?"

Shin Yoosung cheerily waves, "Bye ahjussi!" and Dokja pensively contemplates, "..but if Yoo Joonghyuk isn't with Lee Seolhwa then..." He imagines Joonghyuk surrounded by sparkles and with his chest bared and thinks, "Maybe his personality could use some work.. But with his looks he'd be dating someone by now, right..?"

He then looks with surprise over a corner to encounter a sparkle-surrounded scene of Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung with their heads leaned together. Joonghyuk looks down at Sooyoung soulfully while she laughs with a hand on his chest. Dokja hides behind the wall and wonders with shock, "With... HAN SOOYOUNG?!" Behind him, the real Joonghyuk and Sooyoung are arguing, looking annoyed and aggravated.

Dokja, sweating, goes, "No, that's... hard to imagine working out.." and envisions Sooyoung crossing her arms and exclaiming "Yoo Joonghyuk! You're an annoying prick!" plus Joonghyuk glaring "Han Sooyoung. You are intolerable." to equal cartoony versions of them being "lovey dovey" and sharing a censored kiss. A cartoony, flustered Dokja waves the thought away.

Then he looks back and thinks, "Well, if they're happy then.. I'll be a little lenient on our company's no dating policy..." He later walks in behind them to catch Sooyoung saying, "Blah blah that's fucking dumb. Right, Kim Dokja?" Dokja, looking disinterested, replies, "ugh, leave me out of your lover's quarrel."

Sooyoung turns to him with incredulous disbelief and raises a middle finger. "Shut the hell up??" Dokja grins, laughs, and returns her middle finger while Joonghyuk emits a question mark.

Then Dokja looks at his phone before beginning to grin increasingly obnoxiously as he says, "Should I leave you two alone this time, haha. Am I your guys' third wheel again? It's okay, I don't wanna get between you two! (Get a room alreadyy.)"

Sooyoung and Joonghyuk look at each other silently, Sooyoung looking bewildered and exasperated and Joonghyuk with his eyes coolly raised. Sooyoung runs a hand through her hair and says, "..Kim Dokja, did you develop a new strain of idiot?" Joonghyuk, looking put-upon, says, "A common case for him." Dokja looks offended before they both move around him, and Dokja goes "What-" as Sooyoung takes hold of his coat.

Sooyoung kisses Dokja on the cheek, leaving him blank with shock. Joonghyuk takes Dokja's chin to kiss his other cheek. Dokja is left standing small and comically stunned against a white backdrop.

The last panel simply shows icons of their heads. Sooyoung asks, "Hey, can we just order chicken for dinner this time?" and Joonghyuk frowns, "No. I already prepared for tonights dinner." Sooyoung shouts an incoherent "UGHGGH" of frustration. Dokja still looks shellshocked. End ID]

#orv #yoohankim #jello.png #honestly no idea what this is i just miss them #also dont listen to kim dokja. yoohan is my lesbian yaoi forever<3

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skteezcursed · 2 months

Text

❝MY EVERYTHING❞ — c.jh (request)

PAIRING. choi jongho x fem!reader.

SYNOPSIS. jongho has always been your person, as well as you were his. neither of you knew exactly when everything shift from friendship to love, neither knew how madly in love either were. you trusted him blindly. he would move mountains for you. all you both needed to do was to say the three little words.

GENDER. smut. pure fluff.

AU/TROPES. best friends to lover. idiots in love. college au. jongho is a simp.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WARNINGS. soft sex. cunnilingus. handjob. blowjob. fingering. dry humping/thigh riding. unprotected sex (pull out method and please don’t do this). cock warming (kinda). let me know if i forgot anything.

WORD COUNT. 12k (a little more than you requeste but i did it haha).

NOTES. english is not my first language. jongho is the sweetest. all the boys pariticipate, but mostly WooSanSang. this story is for pookie minnie (@yourlocaljonghoe), hope you like it, sorry for the delay. thank you @bro-atz for being the beta! bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraing how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

It was ridiculously pathetic, it had to be.

There was no way everything could possibly get better, feel better, just be better because you entered a space, and yet, the rays of sunshine felt like they shine brighter, the wind of early fall could be felt on his skin (as if he wasn't in the closet out space of the library), the hushed conversations quickly muffled as all his eyes could see was you entering the library with your laptop and books in hand, your bag hanging from your shoulder as your hand took some of the hair away from your face.

He knew it was wrong, to feel the things he felt for you, you were his best friend after all, but he just couldn’t control it. You have always been there for him during middle and high school, people used to joke that you two were a couple, he had even helped you get away from unwanted attention, that was probably when it all started, when he started to look at you differently, when your touch started to burn his skin in a good way, when the butterflies in his stomach stopped being from anxiety and started to be because you were close to him, your hand in some part of his body, or simply when your eyes found his, followed or not by a small smile.

It was only when you sat in front of him that he realized how he was staring, feeling his ears turn red but thankfully your attention was mostly focused on your things. Both had different subjects as you two were from different courses, but you always find time to study together, even if just for a bit, a habit you both got mainly thanks to how difficult high school had been.

“How were your classes? I thought you’d be here only later.”

“Last one got canceled,” he tried not to focus on your face, rather at your hands and how you splattered everything at the table, making a small smile appear on his lips. “You know you don’t need to bring your whole house to your classes and such, right?”

“As if you don’t always try to get at least one of these from me whenever we study together,” you laughed before throwing an eraser in his direction which he easily catches, making you roll your eyes. “Anyway, do you mind if someone joins our study session?”

“Someone?”

It wasn’t common for that to happen, mostly because either of you had a project together with someone else, but since classes had barely started, it didn’t really made sense for someone else to enter your little study sessions.

“Yeah, he’s actually my senior, we gonna help each other out in two different projects,” if you had been paying attention, you’d notice how Jongho’s eyes widened slightly and how his Adam’s apple went up and down nervously. He had seen you before with other guys, going out and having fun, but it always caught him off guard when you asked first, since the last time you asked if someone could join, ‘they’ ended up becoming your boyfriend. “He’s super nice I promise you’ll like him! His name is Seonghwa and he’s the sweetest!”

“Oh, yeah,” he tried to compose himself a little so you wouldn’t notice the frown on his face or how slightly annoyed he was. Although he didn’t really expect you to see through his actions or wait for him to finally grow a pair and finally ask you out, it still hurt the fact that everything didn’t seem anything other than a friend caring for another, “is he coming now or?”

“(y/n)?” Both raised your heads as a figured stood beside you, making Jongho hide his jealousy the best he could. The man was one of the most wanted guys on college. Perfect slick back hair, perfect teeth, perfect smile, perfect height, perfect body, perfectly polite, a gentleman if all, and he had his eyes focused on you, as your smile spread widely as his presence was noted. “Hope I didn’t take too long, had to fix a few things with the teacher.”

So, he was supposed to join regardless of what Jongho said? What if he said no? Would you still have had Seonghwa joining in on your session?

“Hey Seonghwa! It’s okay, don’t worry!” You two exchanged quick hugs before you pointed to Jongho. “This is the guy I was telling you about, Jongho!”

“Oh, the famous Jongho! Hello!” Famous?, Seonghwa’s hand was stretched out to Jongho who quickly took it, a polite smile on his lips as Seonghwa took the chair on your side. “I’m so sorry to barge in and wanting to do this fast, I just -”

“It’s okay, I know,” God and you gave him that smile? Jongho quickly lowered his head, trying to focus on the book in front of him, trying to ignore how you and Seonghwa giggled at each other. “- right, Jjong?”

His head quickly raised at the sound of his name leaving your lips, finding both you and Seonghwa staring back at him, before clearing his own throat trying to buy a little bit of time.

“Yeah, sure,” that was the right answer, or at least he hoped, although he knew he would say yes to whatever you asked of him. As he watched your smile widening, he couldn’t help but smile himself, but once your attention shifted to Seonghwa, who also had a big smile, something shifted in him, not going unnoticed by the senior. “I- I have to go though -”

“What already?” You whined making his movements stop for a second, Seonghwa’s eyes not missing the interaction between you and your best friend. “I just got here! We were supposed to go to the diner later on our way back!”

“I won’t be long, I just needed to check all the details,” Seonghwa’s voice was quick, his gaze shifting between you and Jongho, “sorry to interrupt, we talk later, yes? I’ll text you!”

He had your number already?, Jongho cursed himself at that thought, he was your senior, you were doing a project together, of course he would have your number, but why did that bother him so much?

“Ok, we’ll talk more later, I’ll also check with Mingi and Yunho about when you can come over so we can start the project!”

“I’ll try to reason with Hongjoong, but with Eden’s last feedback he got into his own head and -”

“I get it!” You cut him with a smile, Jongho’s eyes observing everything, how your smile would widen, and a small giggle came out at Seonghwa’s words, how his eyes would linger a little longer on your face before falling down and back up. “I’ll text you once I get back from the boys, okay?”

“Yeah sure! Thank you (y/n), you are a life saver and,” as the seniors voice trailed away, Jongho realized he was now the focus of the attention as you eyed him pointing your head towards Seonghwa, who studied Jongho’s reactions, “thank you Jongho, it’s really nice to meet you, I’m happy to have finally met (y/n)’s best friend after all the things she said about you.”

“What did she say?” His eyes traveled down to you who lowered your head, but he could still see the red tips of your ears and the shy smile on your lips before looking back at Seonghwa who had his eyebrows slightly raised at the two of you. Clearing his throat, Jongho turned his attention to the senior. “Either way, it was a pleasure to meet you too Seonghwa.”

The older one just nodded with a small smirk your way before kissing the top of your head and walk out of the library. Jongho’s leg bouncing like crazy under the desk, trying to not demonstrate how that small interaction made his intestines twist, his jealous curiosity trying to figure it out how did you two got so close so fast. It was only when he saw your raised eyebrows that he notices he had been staring, again.

“Okay, spit it out,” you crossed your arms on top of the book, your eyes analyzing his face, “he is nice, you seemed to like him, so why that frown on your head is present?”

“I don’t have a frown,” the bouncing getting worse as he turned his eyes away from you, who quickly kicked his still leg under the table, getting a surprised look. “That hurt,” you just smiled tilting your head making him sigh, “how long have you known him though? You plan on having him at your place, are the guys okay with that?”

A shadow of confusion crossed your face before a wide cocky smile take place as you pointed your pen to him.

“You didn’t listen to anything we talked about, did you?” Jongho sighs and lower his head before hearing you scoff and kick him again, making him eye you annoyed. “You didn’t listen to what you agreed and now you are jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” although he tried to change the topic, you didn’t bulge, throwing the pen you were holding towards him, making him glare at you before shaking his head. “Okay, maybe I didn’t listen to everything, but that doesn’t mean I’m jealous!”

“If you say so,” the victorious smile you had almost made Jongho say something, but what he really wanted was to kiss that away. So what he was jealous? “Either way, you better control your not-jealous face tomorrow, Hwa and Joong are already -”

“Why tomorrow?” You eyed him shaking your head. “What did I agree to?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow once we arrive at Hwa’s place.”

“You barely know him and you calling him ‘Hwa’ and planning on going to his house and-”

“With you,” you cut him slightly annoyed but still amused, you loved when Jongho showed his jealous and protective side, trying to ignore how your heart was beating out of your chest because of that, “I’m going there with you tomorrow, as you agreed, and while you do what you agreed, me and Seonghwa will work on our projects.”

“And what the hell am I doing there?”

The cheeky smile you sent his way make him swallow hard, before you shake your head focusing back on your books.

“That’s on you for not paying attention and agreeing to something you don’t even know what it is.”

Although he tried his best, he couldn’t hold back a smile at your words and the smile you sent him. He couldn’t tell you he just said yes without thinking because it was you who had asked him. He couldn’t pretend he would say ‘yes’ to whatever it was that you might ask of him. He was down bad for his best friend, that was the truth as much as he tried to hide it.

“Earth to lover boy!” Before he could process, one of the cushions of the couch found his head making Jongho glare at two of his roommates, noticing as they exchanged smiles, San shaking his head, as Wooyoung appeared to be having the time of this life. “What did you and (y/n) do today? You are more distant than usual.”

“Nothing happened, what you talking about?”

Jongho sigh and joined them on the couch, San’s eyes lingered on the youngest one a little longer, but before anyone could say anything, Yeosang appeared on the hall, a towel on his shoulder and his clothes in a basket, a knowing smile on his lips, making all the other frown.

“You are not a good liar Jjong,” Yeosang laughed putting his laundry in as all three waited patiently for the older one to emerge. “I saw you three at the library.”

“Three?”

San and Wooyoung said in unison, but Jongho lips were sealed shut, cursing Yeosang as his smile grew wider. The eldest was an innocent angel most of the times, but he could be even more wicked than Wooyoung when he wanted to.

“Jjong and (y/n) were talking when Park Seonghwa entered the library joining them.”

“Wait, THE Park Seonghwa?”

Yeosang nodded at San’s question, both quick to understand why Jongho was sulking so much, but Wooyoung needed more, he always needed more and Jongho was starting to serious considering killing his best friends at that moment.

“The Park Seonghwa? Perfect, handsome, hot looking guy Park Seonghwa? The one that can have any pussy and dick he wants at any time, just by looking at someone?” San and Yeosang tried to hide a laugh as Jongho’s head slightly turned to focus on the second youngest that was still processing the fact that Seonghwa had been around Jongho and you in the afternoon. “Oh, I’m not condemning (y/n), that dick is probably a 10/10!”

“Woo!”

The other two said the same time Jongho’s fist found Wooyoung’s arm, make the other complain in pain holding his arm.

“What? If Jjong isn’t gonna act he can’t be mad if other guys show interest in (y/n)!” Everyone knew Wooyoung was right, Jongho even sigh holding his head down, the image of you and Seonghwa still carved in his brain. “Look, (y/n) is beautiful, smart, kind, funny, any guy would want a girl like that, you can’t blame Seonghwa for that, but,” all eyes turned to him, a cheeky grin on Wooyoung’s lips before he focused on Jongho, “that doesn’t mean you are out of the race, not until he asks and she accepts being with him.”

“Wooyoung is right,” San said with a smile, following the line of the thoughts Wooyoung was trying to show, Yeosang quickly joining them, also understanding what his friend was saying, all three receiving a head shake from Jongho. “C’mon Jjong, you know Woo is right!” As Jongho lifted his head, the others tried to hide a smile, maybe this time he’d listen and finally ask you out. “Why don’t you ask her out tomorrow? Go to the diner, pretend is a normal day and ask her out, ask her to give you a chance, but check first if her and Seonghwa aren’t together.”

“We are going to Seonghwa’s apartment tomorrow,” a groan escapes all their mouths, but Yeosang was quick to stand up, his thinking face making itself visible for all of them. “What is it Yeo?”

“Know your enemy!” All the others kept waiting for Yeosang to finish as we shook his head seating back down, a smart smile on his lips. “First, do you know why you two going to his house?” Jongho shook his head making the others giggle.

“He was probably too busy staring at (y/n).”

Jongho joked he was gonna hit Wooyoung again, making the second youngest try to hide behind San, making the other three laugh.

“I mean, you are not entirely wrong,” he sighs and noticed the other three waiting for him to explain what had happened, “I mean, once he was there, I tried to ignore how she was looking at him, I mean, have you seen the guy?!” All the other nodded, but Jongho ignored sighing, the image of you smiling and giggling with Seonghwa coming back into his mind like a slap in the face. “So, I tried to focus on my studies, which didn’t really work, until she asked me a question and I just nodded agreeing -”

“Yeah, because you are down bad!”

“A simp of the worst kind!”

“Bet you were just trying not to get caught drooling over her.”

He scoffs shaking his head at his best friends’ remarks, getting out the couch hearing them complaining before turning with a hidden smile.

“Look, I know I’m a simp okay? How could I not be? Not when she looks and acts like that!”

“I mean, she’s not too far behind you, so -”

“What you talking about, San?”

The older ones exchanged looks. It wasn’t uncommon for them to turn to Jongho saying you had a crush on him, that they could tell, but he never really bought that, always thinking they were playing with him, so they had stopped talking about it, even if it was obvious how you two looked at each other whenever you were in the same space.

“The same way you are down bad for her, she is for you.”

Jongho scoffed and the other three rolled their eyes.

“She could have Park Seonghwa on around her pinky! Why would she want me?”

“I agree, I never said she was good in the head,” the face Jongho made brought a laugh to the two older ones as Wooyoung was quick on his feet with his hands in front of him asking for Jongho to wait for him to finish, “look, all I’m saying is that you two are blind when it comes to each other, okay? You may not see the way she looks at you, but everyone else does.”

“Why you think people don’t usually come at her asking for a date?” Yeosang continued, standing up just like Wooyoung, standing in front of Jongho with arched eyebrows. “You may be a teddy bear, but you are fucking scary when you want and the looks you give to any guy that approaches her gives us the chills!”

“She dated before, what you guys talking about?”

“She dated because she was tired of waiting for you and someone else took the initiative,” San joined the other two in front of Jongho making the younger one groan in frustration, “look, we don’t know if (y/n) and Seonghwa are together or something, it may be just a homework thing, Seonghwa is an outgoing person, he talks to a lot of people, it may not be what you think.”

“You didn’t see the way he looked at her.”

“Was it anything like you look at her?”

“What was that supposed to mean Yeosang?”

“Did it look like she held the sun, moon and stars, the air in his lungs, like a ray of sunshine after a gloomy day, or -”

“I don’t look at her like that,” he cut Wooyoung making all the other three leave snarky smiles at that comment. “Do I look at her like that?”

“Only when you know she’s not looking at you.”

San commented putting a hand on Jongho’s shoulder pulling him back to the couch and seating him down by the shoulders, the other three circled him with knowing smiles, maybe that was the last push he needed to finally grow a pair and talk to you about his feelings, feelings everyone knew you also had for him, except himself.

“Fine, what do I have to do?”

He was a coward.

He was the most coward person you could ever find.

In his defense, you ended up going to the house first, so he couldn’t bring up anything before, as originally planned and, once he arrived, you were already working on your project with Seonghwa in the living room as you two guided him to meet with Hongjoong.

He needed someone to sing this ballad he had done, but the lyrics were still a mess, and his voice wasn’t as fitting for the song as was expected, the instrumental was almost done, but without the person to sing it, it felt hollow, broken, exactly like the words Eden used to described one of Hongjoong’s latest works.

If he was honest, Jongho liked the lyrics and the instrumental, he knew the song was incomplete, but he liked it nonetheless, the instrumentals were heavenly, as you were so quick to say once Hongjoong finally showed you what he was working on. That was when all his courage fell into pieces.

“Hongjoong! How is this even better than before the summer break? You are a music genius, don’t listen too much into Eden’s words!”

And you kissed him.

On the cheek.

But it was still a kiss.

Seonghwa’s hands firm on your waist, Hongjoong holding your hand with a shy smile.

You and Seonghwa being way too comfortable with each other never made so much sense until that point. You two were hooking up, or almost at it. His hand always on you, waist, hip, shoulder, arm, you name it! He had lost his chance, again.

“- that’s why Jongho is here, right bear?”

Your eyes lit up to find his, a shadow of something caught you off guard, but he quickly nodded, the shadow no longer there, but still made you question what had happened.

“Yeah sure, but I still don’t know how much of a help I can be.”

“Our little angel said your voice is incredible, we need someone to sing that song Joong is writing.”

Our little angel.

God he just wanted to die at that moment.

All the others noticed something was wrong, but as you stepped closer, Hongjoong quickly moved his chair as Seonghwa pulled you closer to him.

“Look, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, (y/n) showed us some of the recordings from your singing and you have one of the most amazing voices I’ve ever heard and I could also use of another music major for this, you’ll have your credit, don’t worry about that, but I want this to be memorable, perfect even, and I think you can help me achieve that if we work together.”

It was a love song.

You could easily tell by the guide Hongjoong had done with the lyrics he had it done, adding the soft melodic instruments the song was incredibly powerful. Jongho’s eyes found yours, they had concern in them, you were blaming yourself for the discomfort he was feeling, probably because you knew he was shy and singing in front of millions – although it was his dream – was still something too far away to grasp, even with the tips of his fingers.

The fact you had showed them the singing videos, how they acted around you, their little angel, it was more than obvious to him that you and Seonghwa were a thing, you were just trying to find a way to let him know. Hell, he knew you loved to hear him sing, maybe he could use that song to let you know how he felt, all the feelings he harbored for you could go into that song, a small letting go present. He could never be with you, because regardless of his friends’ avid points, you weren’t in love with him like he was with you.

In love.

God how something so beautiful can be such a painful thing?

“I’ll do it.”

And that was how he found himself in Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s place every other weekend. He and Hongjoong working on the song, while you and Seonghwa were somewhere in the apartment as he tried not to notice whenever your laugh became too loud or you two became too quiet, trying not to focus on the idea that you two might be in his room while he was -

“What’s up with you today?”

The song was quickly cut out as Hongjoong stared at Jongho, your muffled laugh and scream managing to pass the soundproof situation Hongjoong created so they could work on the music before using the studio the music students were allowed in only for the final version.

“Nothing is wrong, sorry, I’ll focus I -”

Both were cut as steps were felt on the other side of the door and Hongjoong noticed how Jongho’s face fell as your muffled scream was heard along with Seonghwa’s laugh.

“You do know they are just friends, right?” Jongho’s eyes peaked up at the ‘friends’ word, trying to ignore the smirk that appeared on the elder’s face. “God you two are infuriating, Hwa was right, damn it.”

“What you talking about? They are just friends? But -”

“Seonghwa is in a relationship,” Jongho stopped talking at that, waiting as Hongjoong sighed raising his eyebrows, “me and him are together, we call (y/n) our angel because otherwise we wouldn’t have happened.”

“So… All of this… What -”

“You two are just as idiots as we were,” Hongjoong got up from the chair getting closer to Jongho that was still processing the information, “your voice wasn’t the only reason why we made her talk to you to participate, but also because we wanted to be sure you were just as into her as she is into you.”

“Oh,” he said as he tried to ignore the image of Wooyoung saying ‘I told you so’ popping into his mind. “How can you be sure?”

“Because she told us,” at Jongho’s shocked eyes Hongjoong laughed loudly before going towards the computer playing the song they have been working on for the past month, as it came to an end, the elder’s eyes found the younger ones at the ground. “Did you write those parts thinking about her?”

“That obvious?” Jongho sat down on the couch looking into the sheet of paper with the lyrics, missing the way Hongjoong eyed him. “She’s my best friend Hongjoong, I- I can’t fuck this up and lose her, what if -”

“Can I suggest something?” Jongho’s eyes lifted to meet with Hongjoong’s analytical ones, a simple nod was all he managed to give in response. “Tomorrow you two leave early, you take her back to your place, we’ll talk to Yunho and Mingi and make them find a way to keep her away from the house, you get your roommates out and shoot your shot, but do it properly, she deserves something great after all the time you made her wait.”

Having only Wooyoung, Yeosang and San up his ass about you was nothing compared into having Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho and Mingi as well. Unlucky for him, Seonghwa easily got one of his roommates’ numbers, since he already had Yunho and Mingi’s, and it was easy to make a group chat which made Jongho almost killed Wooyoung for the nth time every time he saw the group chat name pop up.

wooyoung @ please get the baby laid okay, so san is taking care of the fort with yeo I’m almost done with the food, who is coming to pick us up?

yunho @ please get the baby laid I will, if hwa and joong do it she’ll suspect

mingi @ please get the baby laid she already suspects something is up bc we said she cant come home

yunho @ please get the baby laid yeah, bc your excuse was shit

hongjoong @ please get the baby laid it was a horrible excuse, but since it was mingi she let it slide

seonghwa @ please get the baby laid also bc jjong distracted her with books and a trip to the cafe

wooyoung @ please get the baby laid so I made dinner for nothing?

san @ please get the baby laid ignore him, we ready, we leaving the food in the oven

yeosang @ please get the baby laid yunho don’t forget to grab the chocolate bouquet on your way over!

yunho @ please get the baby laid I wont, I’m on my way!

“Are you cheating on me?” Jongho never locked his phone a put it away as fast as in that moment, making you raise your eyebrows and open your mouth slightly. “Who is she? Is she prettier than me?”

“Of course not, you are the most beautiful person to walk on earth,” that wasn’t a lie in his view, it was also something he would casually drop at you from time to time, you knew that, but still, always surprised you, awakening the butterflies in your stomach you tried to always keep dormant. “I may be an idiot but I’m not that idiot to be cheating on my favorite girl in this world.”

Ever since yesterday Jongho decided to be bolder, to show more of his true intentions to you, his true feelings, and he was loving every hint of pink and red he could see on your face and ears. It almost made him realize that, maybe, this may work. That the others were right and you both felt the same thing, and God he wish it would be true.

“You can’t say shit like that Jjong!”

“Why not? It’s not a lie.”

Maybe, but you playing with my feelings is a problem, you wanted to scream that at him. Cursing him over and over thanks to all the things he had awoken at the same time in you since the day before once you two left Hwa and Joong’s apartment. You couldn’t lie and pretend you weren’t enjoying the attention, not that you liked the fact that Seonghwa and Hongjoong forgot to tell both of you they had a date with tickets they bought a few weeks prior, or even the fact that Mingi said you couldn’t go home until late at night, you knew he probably would have someone over and wouldn’t want you or Yunho to hear him, so you were more than happy when Jongho said his roommates wouldn’t be home and you could stay there as long as you wanted.

You just didn’t expect all the flirting he was doing, but you would never complain.

“People may think something else,” you focused on your drink and the three hard cover books he bought for you, your fingers lingering a little longer on the titles, his eyes focused on you, observing, trying to get any hint you may give him, “besides, I’ve seen some girls looking at you while we were picking up the drinks, one of them looks really pretty and your type.”

It hurt you to say these, but he was your best friend and nothing more could ever happen, or you may lose him. You didn’t care if Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Yunho and Mingi kept saying you were just running away, taking the easy way out, the cowards way, the thought of possibly losing Jongho was too much of a risk, you preferred to have him as a friend than nothing at all, all because you couldn’t help yourself on falling for your best friend.

“I don’t want them though,” the form he said it, so nonchalant caught your attention, making you eye him curious, trying to hide the hurt that you felt inside, the idea that he may have someone. You knew he had been with other people before, but he never really introduced you to them. Once you realized that you tried to move on, started dating someone, but there was only one man that made you feel wanted and loved, and that man was sitting in front of you drinking his americano. “I already have someone in mind, it would be mean to get involved with someone if I have another on mind, no?”

The entering of the knife was quick, but the twist was tortuously slow, the final blow being the smile he gave you. The smile you loved so much that you had only seen directed to you, but now he’s using it to talk about someone else, someone that it wasn’t you.

“Who is she?”

“You know her,” he chuckled at your reaction before continuing, “but I don’t think she sees me like that much, although the guys say I’m just over thinking it, that she definitely likes me and -”

“She’d have to be crazy not to like you, baby bear,” your hand reached his over the table, it didn’t matter if your heart bled, all you ever want is to see Jongho happy, even if it’s not with you. “You are one of the most incredible human beings I’ve ever met, whoever has your heart will be forever loved and I envy that.”

At his raise of eyebrows, you quickly realized what you had said and tried to pull your hand away, but his fingers wrapped around yours, intertwining your fingers, your eyes quickly went to the girls you saw talking and eyeing Jongho earlier, finding their eyes on your hands before moving away, making a victorious smile play on your lips.

He was still yours for the time being and that was enough.

“What got you all smiley?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly trying to pull your hand away, but his grip was strong but careful around your hand, just like everything he did regarding you, “baby bear, it’s nothing, can I have my hand back?”

You giggled at the pout he gave you, the puppy eyes staring around you two before resting on you again trying to understand what had happened. Your hands quickly found your drink as so did his. While you couldn’t hold a smile while drinking, he couldn’t help his cute little pout at what you had done.

“Want me to be your wingman?” He questioned after a while, making you eye him confused as his eyes fell on your hand that was enveloped by the warmth of his hands not long prior, a small guilt filing your insides. “That’s why you dropped my hand, right? So, show me who he is, I’ll be nice, I promise.”

“It’s not that Jjong,” you said quickly as soon as he stopped, his eyes had a different shine, one that you had seen at the library a few weeks ago when Seonghwa appeared to ask Jongho to sing to Hongjoong’s song, for a second you thought you had made Jongho jealous, and you felt good for a second, until he wanted to leave and you panicked. The control he had over you was surreal and all you wanted was to take his hand on your and kiss it tenderly in front of everyone, “I dropped your hand because…”

“(y/n) it’s okay, I promise I -”

“I have someone in mind too,” you said it so quickly your mind couldn’t follow through, putting a hand in front of your mouth before focusing on your drink, “he also has no idea and, I’ve been into him for a while now, I tried to make him see it, but apparently he doesn’t see me as anything other than a friend and that’s okay, and since we are in a public place, if the girl you have eyes on sees us, it may ruin it for you so I-”

“Wanna go home?”

“You know I can’t go home.”

“Weren’t we going to mines?” His smile was soft; the shadow of a moment ago disappeared. Jongho was good at hiding, it didn’t take you long to realize that, so you nodded getting your coffee as his hands took your books putting on the bag with some other things you bought at the book section. “We can talk about it when we arrive, will that be okay?”

“We don’t have to Jjong.”

The truth was, you didn’t want to hear him talk about the girl that caught his attention, you wanted to be that girl. Once you finally stood up from the table, his right hand found your left making you gasp in surprise on how hot they were despite the ice americano he was having it. That was one of the things you liked the most about Jongho, how warm he always was, how his warmth would always find you and embrace you, always accompanied by the smell of his cologne. Which was one of the reasons you always loved when fall started, because he would lend you some sweatshirts and jumpers with his smell, even when you didn’t ask, he always had them.

As he guided both of you back to his apartment, you allowed yourself to feel the warmth of his hand and body next you whenever you could, cursing at every heavy wind that hit your face taking his cologne and warmth from you, making you involuntarily hide behind him, making him chuckle every time, until he stopped turning to face you. His perfect cupid’s bow just a few centimeters from you, as the wind hit again, he pulled you closer, your hands going around his waist under the coat he had opened, your face hiding against his chest, his cologne clouding your thoughts, but little did you know the effect that had on him.

Seonghwa and Yunho were right when they said you might say you were into someone depending on the situation, and if you did, this guy it would be him. The fact you couldn’t look him in the eye while saying those things, the reaction you had to the girls that flirted with him earlier noticing your intertwined fingers and leaving, how happy you were at that, how right your hand felt in his, the small hurt he saw in your eyes and face at the thought of Jongho liking someone and this person seeing them together. How could he have been so blind for so long? How could you not see how he acted around you?

“Here,” he said stepping a little away from you, both highly aware of how your hands still lingered on his waist, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move away, if he could, he would kiss you right then and there, “we can’t have you catching a cold and stopping to hide behind me everything a wind blows, so…,” his hands swiftly took the scarf off his neck placing around your own, covering your lips and nose, only your eyes visible to him as he took your hand back making you both get back into walking, “we almost home, so we won’t be cold for long.”

You wanted to stop him, to make him hug you again, to feel him close again, but all you did was follow his steps as you started to see the outline of his apartment in the distance. Although you knew none of his roommates were gonna be there, you caught yourself craving Wooyoung’s food. Maybe, just maybe, you could stay until they come back and ask him to make you something, that way you could also spend more time to Jongho.

You have been to his apartment multiple times, but something felt different, probably because you finally realized he might get a girlfriend, that you had lost him for good, because no one in their right mind would let him go, only if they were insane. Which was exactly what you were as you noticed he may never be yours because of how much of a coward you were.

As the sound of the lock along with the turning of the lights made you raise your head, you stopped dead on your tracks. There was a fort blanket in the living room, you could smell Wooyoung’s food – although you couldn’t see it – and you noticed as Jongho stopped behind you, his breathing on your ear as one of his hands found your hip and the other your arm squeezing both lightly, making you gasp.

“Surprise,” the chuckle made you wake up and eye him curious, only receiving a small smirk in response as he headed to the kitchen, your steps were cautious, there was no reason for this to be happening, nothing bad had happened. As your feet led you to the living room, you found fairy lights all over the place, the tv on playing an ambient music, “(y/n), come eat!”

Instantly, Wooyoung’s food filled your lungs and you drooled at the thought of what he had made and why he had made dinner. Were any of the boys in a romantic date before you arrived and didn’t have the time to pull it down? But then why would Jongho tell you it was a surprise? As you finally reached the kitchen, you found a banquet at the island, making you scream a little and jump, making Jongho chuckled before start preparing a plate for the both of you before heading back to the living room. The fort blanket already awaiting the both of you, a small memory from the time you two were children.

For a moment, both of you just enjoyed the meal Wooyoung had made, reminding you to thank him, which made Jongho said to also thank San and Yeosang for building the fort. You wanted to ask him then and there what that was all about, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the way he was enjoying the meal, the comforting silence between the two of you. How your knees touched on occasion but none of you had a care in the world if that kept happening, ignoring the electric shocks that ran through both your bodies.

Jongho changed the ambient sound to one of your comfort shows, the coffee table quickly pushed to the side with both plates on top along with two empty bottles of soju. You two were sitting with the backs on the couch, his left arm lazily hugging your shoulders, the tips of his fingers feather like along your arm, sometimes playing with your hair when you rested your head on his shoulder.

Trying not to think how warm he was, how close he was, how drunk on his cologne you were, how deep in love you were with your best friend. As you moved, Jongho swiftly took your legs putting on top of his, holding them in place as him right hand burned your skin despite the jeans you wore. Ignoring how he pulled you closer, only a little more and you were on his lap, his left arm still enveloping you, caressing your left arm and pulling you closer from time to time as your head on occasion would fall a little more. If you only had the courage, you could easily kiss the crook of his neck, his cologne filling your lungs, it wasn’t like you needed anything more to live if you had him.

When the second episode finished your head was already heavy, barely noticing as Jongho tried to untangle the two of you, a groan escaping your lips making him laugh before kissing your temple, being careful as he started to make some distance between you two. What he didn’t understand was that the groan was for nothing more than the idea of having him far away. His warm, cologne, the homey feeling you had with him whenever you two were together. You now realized what you were going to miss the moment he asks out the girl he has eyes on, you were going to lose him, even if he was never actually yours.

You watched as he took the plates on his hands. The third episode had started, but all you could do was stare at the spot Jongho was prior. All you could feel was how your skin burned and body ached to be closer to him again. His flirty demeanor had got to you. All the feelings you fought so greatly every day for the past years to keep low, he brought to the surface.

“(y/n)?” Your eyes turned to the spot Jongho had left, finding a chocolate bouquet before you could see him coming back to the fort. The smile on your lips made his gummy smile becoming more visible. “I was supposed to give this to you on the way out, but couldn’t wait,” his shy smile had returned as you took the chocolate bouquet in your arms, fingers trying to see all the chocolates that were there before eye him with startled eyes, “too much? Too much, right? Okay, sorry I -”

“Jjong, what is all of this?”

“What you mean?”

You sigh putting the bouquet down.

You wanted to say it wasn’t too much, not really, but with everything he was doing, it was. He was playing with your feelings, even if he didn’t know about them. The talk from earlier came back to you, maybe he was trying to make you feel better? Maybe, Mingi, Yunho or Hongjoong had said something to him about your crush on him without saying your name and now he wanted to cheer you up?

A small chuckle left your lips, because that’s definitely something Jongho would do.

That’s one of the reasons you love him so much.

Love.

You were in love with you best friend, all it took was for him to flirt with you openly for a day for you to admit that. You sigh as your eyes returned to the bouquet to focus on him again, a small pout on his lips. He thought you hated it everything he did, which made you hate yourself at that.

“You said surprise, but nothing happened for us to have a movie fort blanket night and the boys not being here…,” you noticed how his head focused on the way your hand enveloped his own, the warmth not only staying in your hand as his eyes found yours. “Jongho, what’s this? If this is yours and the guys’ way of saying it’s okay for the guy I like not to -”

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” His eyes were focused on you, making you suddenly feel self-conscious, trying to shy away but at the same time wanting his attention on you, wanting the way he was looking at you. “I don’t mean on the outside, of course you are beautiful on the outside, but I meant as a whole, you are beautiful, incredible, talented, intelligent, kind, and so much more that I could spend the rest of our lives telling you about it,” you gulped but didn’t move away as Jongho approached you slightly, testing the waters, “I’m sorry it took me too long to notice, I’m sorry for being a coward and take too long to say it, but -”

He cut himself looking to both your hands. You weren’t responsive; you were a statue watching him declare his love for you, he was questioning himself again, all the signs he had seen earlier vanished from his mind, the courage to finally tell you his feelings evaporated like water in a hot day, he started to sulk in his seat, mad at himself, as he felt your hand touch his cheek, an electric current going through his body full speed as he raised his eyes to meet your halfway.

“Jjong, please...”

You couldn’t finish, because you too were a coward.

You loved him, but did he love you too? Was that his way of confessing that he wanted you just as bad you wanted him? For just as long as you wanted him?

“I love you, (y/n),” he saw the moment your breathing stopped, how your hand fell from his face, your warmth going away with it, your eyes a mix of feelings that he couldn’t follow, “you are the one I like (y/n), you are the one I love.”

It was like your brain stopped functioning, your eyes watered and Jongho panicked for a second before holding his hand that was going to wipe your tear away.

“Please don’t joke about this, not about this, Jjong.”

“I could never joke about my feelings for you, (y/n), ever.”

The small smile was all he needed before leaning closer to you, slowly, watching your every reaction, expecting the denial he always thought he’d find if he confessed his love, but instead you met him halfway. A simple and tender touch of lips made both of your bodies combust. Eyes meeting for half a second before he pulls you closer to him again and you obliged to his wants, because kissing him was all you had on your mind since you were thirteen.

His hands were firmly on your hips pulling you to him as you were quick to put each leg on either side of his left leg, your hands messing up his hair, the kiss was hungry, urgent, just like his hands as he explored your back, ass and thighs. None of you cared about breathing, it was an inconvenient at best, you could live without air, but you couldn’t live without feeling each other’s lips anymore.

You whined as his lips disconnected from your mouth finding your jaw, teeth sinking into your skin as you pulled Jongho’s hair, the moan reverberating on your skin. Your whole body ignited at that sound, wanting to hear it more, you needed to hear it more. As you let your body weigh down, you felt his thigh under you, God how you imagined this scenario so many times before. Instinctively you started to move your hips slowly against his thigh, making him stop kissing your neck and look up at you.

One of his hands hugged your thigh, the other firm on your waist as your movements became more preeminent. As your head finally lowered finding his hungry eyes observing your features as you rocked your hips on his thigh, embarrassment quickly flooded you, making you stop and try to move away from him. Instead of letting you, his hand on your thigh found your back and pulled you closer to him.

You could feel the pool in between your legs, the arousal making you uncomfortable, begging you to continue, but something was holding you back, and you couldn’t stare at Jongho in the eyes. As his arm enveloped your waist, his left hand found your face, fingers lightly on your chin making you meet his eyes.

The hunger was still there, the lust, but they were tender, careful, the effect of feeling secured in his embrace along with the eyes of admiration and understanding made your whole body burn as he pulled you closer, locking your lips again. It was calm, almost experimental. Your arms were quick on his shoulders as your hands found the nap of his neck, one of them playing with his hair as the kissed deepened.

It was only when you felt his hands on your hips guide you across his thigh and the friction you felt making you moan in between the kiss, that you forced the break eyeing him curious. The smirk was present, but it wasn’t cocky, it was wholesome.

“Am I dreaming?”

He chuckled as he pulled you closer to him by your hips, moving them so gently on top of his thigh as he flexed them, thanks to the clothes the movement wasn’t very perceptive, also because you buckled your hips up as you felt his muscle against your clothed core, making him chuckle a little more.

“So, you’ve dreamed about me?”

“Jjong, please…,” his hands again moved your hips against his thigh making you bite your lip but not break eye contact this time. “I may have had a few dreams about you yes.”

“Did I made you feel good on them?” You nodded as his hands pulled your hips down, flexing his thigh as you were now in control of your own hips. “I’ve had them too, you know?” Your half-lidded eyes causing his pants to be an even bigger bothersome as a small moan left your mouth. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Jjong?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and make me feel good, yeah?”

“Anything for you, my love.”

With that his mouth lashed back into yours as he guided your hips across his thighs. As you couldn’t help but keep your mouth open from the stimulation, his mouth found your neck, going all the way down to your chest, open mouth kisses being left on the open cleavage, eyes on you at every single movement he made.

You were so busy riding his thigh that you barely realized his hands were no longer on your hips as one of them went under your shirt, the tips of his fingers tingling against your burning skin as his other hand had a grip on your thigh. The build up on your lower stomach making it harder for you to concentrate as his hands grabbed those both parts of your body, you were sure your waist would have the imprint of his hands.

“Oh God, please-fuck,” your breathing was hollow, your legs ached but you couldn’t stop, it was too close to grasp, your fingers digging onto Jongho’s shoulder as you felt his lips on your neck again, his hand on your thigh pulling it more apart making your whole body weigh rest on his thigh as he flexed it once again, making a cried moan leave your lips, “fuck, Jjong, so good.”

“Let it go sweetheart, I’m here, this is just the first of the night,” you shot your eyes open finding the smirk present and he quickly gave you a peck on the lips, hands back on your hips as he kept making you move them, “use me for now, I wanna see you come undone on my thigh, please.”

It was the ‘please’ that made you lose it.

Your whole body trembled as you pulled Jongho’s face close to you as his hands gently moved your hips running you out of your high as your swollen lips let go of his own. He was glowing under you, his eyes were shining like a stary night and all you wanted was for this to never end, if it were a dream so you would never wake up.

As his hands came back into roaming your body, you came to your senses.

You had just cum by riding his thigh.

He saw the small panic look in your eyes and pulled you closer to him, kissing your lips as he lifted you up, his right leg quickly joining the left under you as you straddled him properly. Once again pulling you down on him, making you feel his bulge under you, making you both moan before making eye contact.

“This is real.”

“As real as it can be sweetheart,” he pulled you closer again kissing you tenderly as you rocked your hips against the outline of his cock, a moan escaping both your mouths as you allowed your weight down on his lap. “Are you sure you wanna keep going?”

“Do you?”

“I asked you first,” his small smile was back as you backed away from him, although you never stopped moving your hips, feeling him getting harder and harder under you, closing his eyes trying to control his breathing making you smile. “Sweetheart, I love you, but I can’t keep going unless you tell me you want me to.”

“I thought I said I wanted you to make me feel good, baby bear.”

You smile as your hands went to the back of his head playing with his hair pulling slightly making him groan, your smile widening at that as his hands gripped your ass squeezing it harshly making you moan.

“Guess I shall make your dreams come true then.”

“Please do.”

He smiled as in a swift move he turned you both and put you on the couch, your hips on the edge with him between your legs. Although you said it was okay, his eyes still lingered on your face as he unbuttoned your jeans sliding them away from your body before tossing them somewhere in the fort. Your thighs shut as his hands went to your knees, gently putting force to see if you were having second thoughts.

Why was he so thoughtful and careful?

You decided that after this, was your time to make him feel good, but right now you wanted his head between your thighs. At that you spread your legs, a mix of embarrassment and confident took hold of your body as you watched him take in your soaked panties. His eyes finding yours once again and you nodded, feeling the tingle in the base of your stomach coming back.

His fingers taking the last piece of fabric between you and his mouth, ever so gently, still watching every single one of your reactions. The truth was, neither of you could believe this was happening, it all felt like a dream, but it was real. It was real and Jongho would do his best for this to be the best night of your life.

As your panties finally met the ground, his eyes focused on your dripping cunt as you held the urge to close your legs, but he noticed the twitch, his focused was on you as he slowly and gently held your legs open, his lips kissing all the way to your left knee to your mid-thigh, before closing in on your hip, looking at you one last time, finding pure lust in your eyes, making him smile as his lips finally met your throbbing clit.

The gasp came in sync with the jolt of your hips, but Jongho was faster holding them down with a smirk that made you roll your eyes. He was having fun with all your reactions; you couldn’t pretend you weren’t enjoying it as well seeing the smudge grin on his face. Before you could say anything, his lips found your clit again, but this time, kitty licks were added to it, making you squirm a little as he held your hips down.

He licked a long stripe at your dripping cunt before starting to suck on your clit, making your back arch as you moaned loudly, your right hand quickly finding his hair pulling it harshly as you were still a little dazed from your previous orgasm. Your hips quickly moving trying to build more friction as Jongho lifted your left leg over the couch, holding you open with his right side as his left hand left your hips, one finger quickly prying at your entrance as he sucked in on your clit.

Once his face left your cunt, two fingers quickly entered you, as he curled them inside, a small kiss was left on your clit making you jolt and whine before forcing his face back into your throbbing bud of nerve as his fingers nimbly worked you up to your second orgasm of the night. You left hand finding your breast and squeezing it just enough to help you build the pressure.

“Fuck Jjong, keep going like this, fuck!”

“You like my fingers or my mouth better?”

As you didn’t answer he slowed down his movements making you groan.

“Both, fuck, please! I can’t choose, Jjong, please, I like both!”

“Good girl, so, cum on them, please sweetheart.”

Your hand pulled more of his hair making the groan reverberate through your body from your clit. God how he knew how to use his mouth and fingers! As you felt your second orgasm coming your legs started to shake and Jongho picked up the pace, his fingers curling inside of you are he went back to suck on your clit.

You cursed before a screamed moan leave your lips, legs trembling as your whole body felt heavy, limbs falling into the couch as he helped you out of your high. Closing your legs gently before getting up and to get you some water and a wet cloth. As he did that, your eyes found the tent in his pants, holding his wrist, his attention quickly falling back on you.

“Where you going?”

“Getting you some water and something to clean you up.”

“Are we already done?”

He smiled at your question. You were clearly fucked out, and yet you forced your legs out of the couch, eyes focused on him.

“Use your words sweetheart, what do you want?”

He squatted in front of you, his lips and nose glistering with your juice, and God you wanted to feel them again, and so you leaned in catching him by surprise at first before he cages you against the couch, your legs opening again as stood there in between them, kissing you like his life depended on it, while his hands held you like you were glass. A small peck was left on his lips as one of your hands held his face, the thumb lingering on his perfectly swollen cupid’s bow lips, a smile forming in yours.

“I don’t want this to end, please Jjong, please I need you, I need all of you.”

“Fuck-” he murmured under his breath as he looked down at your cunt, at the mess you had made on the couch, the mess he helped create. His eyes lingered on the tent in his pants, how his hard leaking cock was already painfully present and all he could think about was you and how you’d feel around his cock. “I’m not fucking you on the couch.”

“Then take me to your room,” you caged him with your legs on his waist and arms on his neck, his laugh brought a light smile to your lips, God you loved that man, you loved every little piece of him, and you wanted him so badly right now. “Stop being such a gentleman, I know you want this as much as I do.”

“One of us need to keep our minds clear.”

“C’mon baby bear, please!” You whined with a pout making him smile as his eyes focused on your face, his hands lazily on your thigh and waist, you knew you had him. “I’ll be good, promise.”

“I just still think I’m dreaming?, I guess?”

“You are not,” you laughed kissing him gently on the lips, feeling him wrapping his arm around your waist as grip your thigh tighter, “you know how I know this isn’t a dream?”

“How, oh my oh mighty?”

You hit his shoulder making you both laugh before play with his hair, pulling it out of his face, a small smile plastered on both your lips.

“Because this is so much better than any other dream I had of us.”

At the raising of his eyebrows, you giggled pulling him in for another kiss.

“So, we never actually had sex on any of your dreams?”

“That’s classified information, only to be revealed after the act.”

You laughed loudly as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head, but gasping at the sudden yank he gave to your body, making both arms and legs hold him tighter, one hand firmly on your thigh as his other arm, held you by the waist making you giggle as you both left the fort heading towards his room. Your lips finding his neck kissing every single space you could, feeling his fingers sink more into your skin.

As he let you on to the bed you finally let go of him, his hands quick to take off your shirt as yours worked swiftly to remove his own shirt and pants, and soon, the only piece of clothing either of you had was the boxers he was wearing. Precum staining the fabric already stretch out because of how hard Jongho was. Your eyes fixed on his boxers, he was thick, a little longer than usual, but thick.

You barely noticed his fingers finding your jaw until the moment he lifted your head to face him, a smirk plastered on his lips as he noticed your eyes lingering on his body. You had seen him without a shirt before, you know he is built, he just preferred to hide his muscles and you didn’t mind that one bit. If not showing his physic he already had a line of women and men after him, if they could see him like this, it would multiply by the hundred.

No, this was all for you.

He was yours.

He loved you.

Just like you loved him.

Your eyes fall to his boxers again with a questioning look, making him chuckle before taking those out. If you thought your mouth was watering, now it had truly become a waterfall. He was a little longer than average, but he was so thick. You reached your hand to touch him, but his hand quickly stopped you.

“C’mon Jjong, let me help.”

A simple nod and you started to work on him, the precum quickly being used as part of lubricant as your lips found the red leaking head, a small kiss left there, just like he had done with your clit on the couch not long ago. Your knees quickly finding the ground as you were quick to lick his shaft, the moans that left his mouth only igniting the fire inside you.

Your mouth and hand worked skillfully on him, his hand tangled to your hair helping guide the pace, every so often you’d look up only to meet him with his eyes closed and mouth open, small moans leaving his lips as you worked him up. A smirk always present as you noticed the reaction of your body to your hands and mouth on his cock.

“(y/n),” he was breathless and although you raised your head towards him, your hands didn’t stop moving, “fuck, your mouth is so perfect, you are perfect.”

You took him into your mouth once again. You knew he was close. He started to thrust into you, controlling more of your head movements, he wasn’t gonna last long. You felt him empty himself on your throat the same moment the most beautiful moan you ever hear came out of his lips, you took it all in, swallowing quickly as he pulled you in for another kiss.

Your legs were still trembling from earlier, but it didn’t matter as held your body close to him.

His taste on your mouth, your taste on his.

“Jjong, please.”

You whined against his lips as he nodded guiding you to the bed. The mattress sinking under you as you laid on your back, your legs open so he could fit in between them, his cock already getting hard again as he pumped himself up.

“You sure about this?” You nodded as he reached for the drawer, already knowing he was looking for a condom, the change in expression was all you needed to know. He didn’t have one. “Fuck, (y/n) I-”

“I trust you.”

You pulled his face to you, kissing him gently before locking your legs around him.

“Are you sure?” You just nodded before he kissed you again. “I’ll pull it out.”

In all honesty all you wanted was him inside of you, to feel him fully, nothing else mattered.

You felt his tip at your entrance, his eyes went to you once again, doubt filling them up.

“Jongho, I’m not a virgin, I’ve had sex before.”

Despite the words, your tone was serene. You knew him well enough to know he was scared to hurt you, the thing was, you knew he never would.

“But this is your first time with me, and I intend to make it the most pleasurable to you, I don’t care about anything else but that.”

His lips found yours once again. As his tongue slipped into your mouth you felt him stretching you out, a moan leaving your lips as he moved to kiss your neck. Slowly, every inch of you was touched by Jongho. You had never felt fuller in your life. As you opened your eyes, his were careful watching your reactions.

“You can move,” you bit your bottom lip as his hips started to move back and forth, you could feel every inch of him. Slowly he picked up the pace, thrusting into you, hitting your cervix every time he thrusted in too deeply, but you couldn’t care less, especially not when his fingers found your clit, circle movement making you moan in pleasure as his thrusts gotten sloppier. “Fuck, Jjong, ye-yes! Please, right fucking there, oh fuc-fuck-fuck!”

“You are so tight, so perfect for me, taking me so well sweetheart,” his lips found your again and both hands held your waist again holding you in place, “fuck I won’t last long.”

“Me neither, fuck!”

You bit down his shoulder, your nails digging into his back, the scratch marks were probably gonna be visible for quite some time. Jongho hid his face on your neck biting down as his thrusts got deeper, erratic, neither of you would last long. His thrusts quickly slowed down, but before you could complain, his hand was back into your clit, circle quick movements as his thrusts kept being sloppier. He wanted you to come first.

At that you held your breasts, pinching your nipples as you allowed yourself to feel everything he was giving you. As you clenched even more around him, both cussed and moan loudly. The third wave finally hit you as one of your hands squeezed your boob, while the other found his forearm that was moving your clit, hold it to a stop.

With a small nod he pulled out, hand already pumping himself as he watched you underneath him, like he had always wanted you to be, like he had always dreamed. White stripes of hot cum soon were splattered around your torso, one hitting high enough to reach your chin, making the two of you laugh as Jongho collapsed on your side.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

Before you could say anything, he got up heading to the bathroom. You could hear water running before steps could be heard. His hands worked quickly and carefully to clean you up, taking extra care with the overstimulated areas. You took your time to observe him.

You were definitely lucky to have him.

The giggle that escaped your lips making his eyes snap at you, a tint of red appearing on his ears as he put the towel away, ignoring your giggles as he went to grab you two a bottle of water returning to the room, finding you in the same position, a small smile plastered on your lips. All you did was point to the side of the bed with your head and he smiled pulling the covers, as he knew you two would soon feel cold.

His back to the mattress as your leg went over his. His arm stretched out as your head laid on his shoulder, the tips of his fingers caressing your bare skin light enough to tickle at points. Your arm going towards his neck, a small caress on his cheek before he faced you. A silent conversation. Realization of what had happened. The dream was real. You two liked each other. Loved each other.

“I love you, baby bear.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” he kissed your forehead pulling you in closer, making you giggle. “You are everything I could ever need or want, thank you for choosing me.”

“I’ll always choose you, Jjong.”

A small simple kiss, but full of meaning was the last exchange that happened between you two before you two fell asleep.

As the sun entered the room, you groaned stretching your sore muscles, realizing an arm was around your waist, you were naked and not in your room. Your head quickly snapped remembering what had happened the night before, finding a sleepy Jongho hugging you like his life depended on it. A small smile took form on your lips as everything came back to you, making you realize it really wasn’t a dream.

“I’d stop moving if I was you,” he’s hoarse morning voice made an electric current flow throughout your body and reach your core, you knew your body was sabotaging you, making you hyper aware of the growing hard on Jongho had up your ass, how his hand was so close to your breasts, “you know, morning wood is not fun…”

You laughed, receiving a groan from Jongho as he pulled you even closer to him, hiding his nose on the nape of your neck. The small tap on his arm around your waist was enough for him to loosen up his grip, but before he could complain you were facing him, hyper aware of his hard cock pressing your lower belly. His questioning eyes at your smirk was everything it took for him to shut up.

“Luckly, you have someone to help you with that…”

Your hand swiftly moved in between your bodies finding Jongho’s hard cock, playing with the tip, observing his face change expressions as you worked on his morning wood.

“You don’t have to-”

“I know, but I want to.”

Your body moved up and away just enough so his cock was at your entrance, your hand holding it still as your leg went above his hips, allowing you to grind on his cock, wetting it on your own dripping cunt. Both moaning lowly as his hand fell on your hip, your hand quickly putting the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“Fuck- have I told you, you are perfect already?”

“I could use the reassurance.”

You giggled as you felt him enter you, he almost stopped at your expression. You were still sore from last night and he was thicker than normal, but you held him in place, nodding as he kept pulling inch by inch inside of you, until you were full, staying like for a while, just until you felt adjusted to his size, feeling him twitch inside you from time to time, clenching around him whenever that happened making you both laugh at that.

“Jjong?” He hummed, eyes picking up on you as you called his name. “Can you please, move?”

“Will you be okay?”

“Mhm, promise, just move, please.”

As his length moved slowly in and out of you, the moans that escaped your mouths at every breath, yours considerably louder than his, as he also took the time to kiss along your neck as your hands messed up his hair even more.

This time it wasn’t rushed, not that last night had been, but this time it was different, more intimate. You could feel your orgasm arriving, you knew he was close as to how he grabbed your hips at every thrust.

You two were so into the moment, that you barely noticed how three voices entered the apartment, how they were quick to move things around, or how steps started to grow closer to the rooms.

“GOD FORSAKEN FU- SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR NEXT TIME!”

You both stopped at the exact moment Wooyoung’s screams reverberated through the walls of the apartment. Jongho quick to cover you up the best he could before eyeing the door, he could see shadows on the wall, he knew the guys were waiting for him to tell that it was okay to pass to their rooms.

Although he panicked, you couldn’t help but laugh, making him laugh as well before giving you a small kiss before slipping out of you, making you whine at the loss of not only his warmth temperature, but also the emptiness you felt inside. Jongho quickly picked up a random sweatpant and headed towards the door, looking at you for a second before smiling and shutting the door behind him, only to find all three of his roommates with shit eating grins on their faces, despite what had just happened.

Before any of them could say anything, Jongho lifted his finger with a death stare, more specifically directed to Wooyoung who had the cockiest smile the youngest had ever seen. With an annoyed sigh Jongho pointed to his room with his head before opening his mouth, words most directly to Wooyoung than any of the other two.

“Shut it! I don’t wanna hear it!” Wooyoung was the first to try to say something after Jongho’s words, but San quickly eyed him as Yeosang pushed him further on the hallway putting a hand in front of wooyoung’s mouth, leaving both Choi’s behind. The youngest however looked at San with a soft smile as both eyed the door to Jongho’s room before speaking again. “You were right, I was an idiot, okay? Just give us a few minutes.”

“You know Wooyoung won’t let you live it out of it, right?”

Both laughed at San’s words knowing it to be true.

“He can say whatever he wants man, I honestly only care about her, if she doesn’t mind his antics, I couldn’t care less.”

“I’m happy for you, Jjong.”

San said with a small smile, a hand rested on Jongho’s shoulder as he passed the youngest heading to his own bedroom. With a sigh, he opened the door to his room finding you looking at the door with a small smile before tapping on the bed, making him laugh and take a few steps before you stop him pointing to his sweats before you speak again.

“No clothes allowed in, c’mon, take those off.”

“You are a menace, you know that?” His sweats were soon on the floor as he joined you in bed, holding you close in his arms. “I think they can control Wooyoung for like thirty minutes.”

“So, we better make the best of those thirty minutes.”

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