#bc I worked hard on those details
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luinen-bluewater · 8 months ago
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They're Baldur's Gate most depraved couple and they're definitely talking shit behind your back
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pezpenser205 · 2 months ago
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the main reason i know im not femme in the slightest is bc i cant comprehend why anyone would Ever want to be feminine. i can understand neutral leaning fem, but the idea that people are born wanting to be feminine is appalling to me personally because femininity always felt like imprisonment and torture. it was and still is a restraint. a training weight i was forced to bear. i cant fully empathize or understand anyone who wants to be more feminine because i have never and will never want to be more feminine out of anything other than pressure or insecurity. im most comfortable being gender neutral, hairy and disgusting in old gym shorts and stained tshirts no matter how much insecurity it causes me. i dont care. im never dressing up all pretty for anyone elses benefit ever again. and i assume this is how people who want to be feminine feel about masculinity to some extent. if thats the case im super glad we could trade because holy moly
#op#doing sex work has also solidified this boundary for me btw#youd be surprised how many people love forcing specifically butch people into feminine clothes and get off on it#like specifically search for young or inexperienced butches and/or ftms#without actually explaining to them what they want to put them through in full detail beforehand or are very vague#but theyre holding money you dont have as an unemployed person over your head so its kind of hard to say no#these experiences have shown me dykebreaking style kinks are actually really popular even in queer communities#this brand of ppl just kind of do it then after the fact call it forcefem or detrans kink and call it a day without communicating beforehan#i think its really shit because now i have a bad taste in my mouth about that kind of stuff#but just bc i had bad experiences doesnt mean everyone will#thats like saying we shouldnt let people transition bc 1% of people detransition or something#i got manipulated by bad people and thats not anyones fault other than those peoples' for being awful people#so if youre wondering why i trigger tag forcefem jokes and stuff. that is why.#with how common it is id rather trigger tag it for someone whos far more sensitive about the subject than i and doesnt wanna see Any of it#i tried being feminine. hated it. 0/10. will never again unless i feel like it inexplicably some day.#the most feminine ill get is wearing bright colors and having shoulder length hair or wearing pink accents in my outfits i guess#or maybe when the thought of wearing them doesnt make me feel sick anymore ill wear pleated skirts again#all these unrelated tags to say#please communicate with your partners especially younger ones. just bc theyre over 18 doesnt mean they arent young and kid like.#brains dont stop developing until around mid 20s and if you as a 30-40 something year old arent communicating properly thats messed up#and just be careful out there#practice ethical/safe kink please and ty ily <3#qtag
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alullinchaos · 10 months ago
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wait off topic if I change Cinder's semblance for my rwby canon-adjacent au.... would this be controversial editing to warn people that the tags are novel length but that i love them and also @graythegreyt pls read them when u have a chance
#wick lore#i have asked myself this question with almost every character but for cinder i was thinking abt her dustweave (?) clothing#dustweave. dust infused. something like that#her v1 outfit that has the design on the sleeves that lights up when she sends out fire. that's her using fire dust that's in the cloth#but as far as i know this is a detail that literally never comes up again like we never see anyone else with clothing like this#so i asked myself. what if that was her semblance instead. that she had the ability to sew dust into cloth#how hard would it be for the girl modelled after cinderella to know that her semblance required her to do domestic labor to be used#thus explaining why it doesn't show up in later volumes because once she gets the maiden powers she thinks she doesn't need it#idk i think making her semblance be 'she can heat stuff up' and thus making her semblance indistinguishable from maiden powers#for the entirety of the series. is a bit of a waste. bc semblances say a lot about characters right#i know there's a point to be made about like. it manifested as that at that time because cinder has always been angry etc etc#but wouldn't it hurt from a different narrative angle. to have her semblance be dustweaving. when she doesn't have any money#no money to buy dust with but a semblance that makes her a skilled and incredibly rare craftsperson but can she bear to sell her skills#when they've been used against her for so long? when all she's known is hard work and grit and sweat? when it's probably dangerous?#anyway i think im about to hit the limit for tags but. lmfao. the possibilities!!! also the association between handsewing and the HOME!#something she's always wanted but never had. a safe place to sit by a fire that she doesn't have to tend and do her work...#also like the possible tension with mercury bc she's wishing her semblance was more offensive + merc's like BE GRATEFUL YOU HAVE ONE???#i headcanon that mercury has a semblance though. that he has silver eyes and his dad took those from him by making him hate the world#...anyway#goodnight
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overdevelopedglasses · 7 months ago
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any more details on essence characters? 👀👀 like any extras u wanna share about them
Oh so many things precious anon... I fear there's more lore to be had before that. And I'd share new characters but I'm very eepy rn (only just got to answering this ask)
But! I'll share a fun fact about each party member as a bit more of characterization for them.
Lily: she gets a really gnarly scar on her face from a fight. Like, "Oh shit that's a line that goes across a good portion of my face" kind of scar.
Percival: has nicknames for every member of the party. The only 2 I've decided on are Fluffball (for Alex) and Munchkin (for Lily, which is funny considering Percy is about an inch and a half taller than her)
Will: Will's into theater! A great singer and a fantastic actor. He will go into random voices for no real rime or reason.
Alex: Alex's spirit weapons are the last ones of the main party I thought of! I settled on dual knives/blades that are based off of the kukri, and also have the ability to return-to-sender ala boomerangs.
Enzo: they have a huge sweet tooth, and they would stay up with some of the team members/spirits and just. Eat sweets together :)
Robin: She's really good at knitting. She'll often make little felt squares/blankets/whatnot for the group, and uses the activity as a bit of a destresser.
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no1ryomafan · 1 year ago
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I be semi back into mega man and I’ve been thinking about why-despite it objectively being more known-it was harder to get people into compared to getter and I think it’s chalked up to the gameplay comes first over any story stuff. MM lore is still insane and a funny rabbit hole to fall into but its not what people think about when they think about this franchise past a basic plot summary, they think about a grueling platformer with freedom to do the stages in any order. But playing all these games, especially if platformers aren’t you thing, doesn’t give you all the lore context given this was a series made in the late 80s and continued up to the 2010s, so pieces of lore were kept to manuals or sometimes even interviews. Sure, a lot of people are use to outside sources for lore, but given how many games there are even if you could pretty much take away the first series out of it to make it seem clearer, you still have to deal with the fact the lord didn’t really pick up until the third platformer because X didn’t know if it wanted to be episodic like classic or actually be more serious- which among other reasons lead it to probably be the messiest series in terms of lore. And then there’s the fact you can’t even recommend someone to read a manga or watch a anime for lore retellings because all of the mangas basically are their own takes of games and anime? Lol despite some games having animated cutscenes the ones who got the anime privilege was the RPG games which everyone in the lore circles always ignore because it’s a separate timeline.
Basically: Mega Man really be “gameplay first, lore bits second” and given I meet a lot of people who don’t play many platformers/are good at them, + the factor there's multiple fucking series which makes it slightly confusing or overwhelming to a outsider, yeah me recommending niche mecha show that’s somewhat convoluted tends to be the better option.
#meg text#mega man#rockman#mm is honestly more of a interest I keep to myself even if I should mention it more#because I don’t want people to think I’m just getter#but it’s kinda hard when- it’s like this lol#it’s not as messy as KH and FNAF in terms of lore but it’s harder to beat those#but it’s main issue is nothing smoothly connects even if within a series context it’s fine to be stand alone#it’s just they never played it or when they did something had to go wrong#looking at you Capcom when you decided to continue mmx after x5#when the plan was to end it there and tie to zero but this threw a hole into everything#though also recalling how legends wasn’t supposed to be canon but made canon bc of the inti games is funny#we never see the gap bridged and there’s some confusing details between them so you could technically just ignore legends#but then you realize in ZX “oh wait humans are becoming robotic and everyone in legends is human-robot hybrids”#it worked out in their favor compared to other things even if it’s sad will never see it tie perfectly#also on the end subject with the side material the lore fandom needs to stop ignoring BN/SF#it’s especially saddening how much Starforce gets flanked for “not tieing to BN well” when IT HAS A FUCKED UP TIE IN THE FIRST GAME#the scene late game where all the PETs are in a dumpster- that saids so much#but also starforce has interesting lore in itself even if it’s not connected to the main series and vastly different#aliens and em waves are cool you guys just SUCK#I was also gonna add a rant about Capcom and how they did too many series here but this is too many tags
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byanyan · 1 year ago
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byan disappears for two days but instead of emerging strung out and skittish like usual, their hands and arms are covered in paint and ink stains and they're a little distant but hungry as hell
#byan occasionally hiding away to work on a piece of art from beginning to finish to limit outside distractions#bc they have something in their head that they desperately need to get out#and if they lose focus at any point they'll never come back to finish it#it's probably no surprise to hear that these pieces are usually tied to their trauma#they get it in their head that if they get the vivid imagery out onto paper they'll be able to stop thinking about it (they won't)#but if they take a break at any point or get distracted and stop... coming back later is hard#oftentimes they end up destroying the unfinished piece when that happens bc now that they've had some distance#they don't want to relive the event again just to finish it#it's a coping mechanism they don't use often - at least not on this level#their sketchbooks are full of pieces like this but those are smaller and less elaborate - ones they finish in hours rather than days#sometimes certain pieces call for being bigger and more detailed... it just depends on how it looks in their mind#just smth that's been in my head for a couple days now that I've been mulling over idk#I think sometimes there's a little substance abuse that goes on at the same time too...#but not to the same level as the abuse when they disappear specifically to fuck themself up#it's more to like. make things flow and make it a little easier to sit in that memory for a prolonged period of time#so overall still not the most healthy coping mechanism :/ but it's not their WORST so. there's that.#━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ headcanon ⋮ danger in the fabric of this thing i made.#drug use cw
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rotisseries · 2 years ago
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thinking about loz byler au again (breath of the wild specifically rn) and my brain keeps going "oooh the party as the champions" bc it sounds like it works out PERFECTLY there are 6 people in the party there's 6 champions if we count link and zelda, who are obviously mike and will, and then I remember that this would mean 4 of them have to be dead for like. the entirety of the main plot
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mg549 · 2 years ago
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i think i should receive a yearly budget for buying fun pairs of shoes.
Exhibit A.:
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fisheito · 1 year ago
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Do you... do you... draw professionally. Because you're just so good and you are inspiring me to keep trying! Manifest those mental images!! Learn to draw yakumo getting railed, and other Normal reasons to revitalize one's previous interest in drawing
u think i could draw professionally??! 😲🥺🥺 i am so flatter..... i think ur draws are so scrorchy (very enjoyable] so if i can help u have inspire 😭😭😭😭😭
omfg if u learn to draw yakumo getting railed i'll probably explode/implode/evaporate/change states of matter in a sudden, violent way
bc. i cannot do it. fun fact: when i read y'all's collab fic of dante's sex ed i felt the urge to draw 3 specific panels for it. but as i put the stylus to the screen, i realised that SEVERAL ppl would have to be naked for the drawings to be storycally accurate. so even tho they were comedy panels, my hand... it betrayed me. it was like trying to draw porn but i blink and suddenly everyone's in 14 levels of victorian extra-garment. F...H?OISTED BY MY OWN UNHORNY
so yes. pls. i would love to see more of your contributions. the very special contributions that only u can make 😂
#to answer ur question for realsi#during times when i am actually employed#i would be animating rigs. which means very little drawing#my job would be clicking and keyboarding more than anything#the hours are long and my brain is so overheated#by the end of the work day i don't want to do anything artistic or even watch shows#so i never have the time for actual drawing. i miss it...#therefore. despite going into art as a profession. i don't rly do much art while employed 😢#i joke that my periods of greatest artistic growth were during my fandom hyperfixations#bc those were the times when i would explore styles#try new stuff and experiment with media and really work hard to make pieces look a certain way#whereas art school was more formulaic and apathetic (oh nooo i don't get to draw gay fanart for my assignments? what's the point)#nowadays? i've chilled out on the Great Experimental Growth phase#and try to draw stupid little things that don't take up too much brainpower#otherwise i get real in my head about my weaknesses#bc of course your peers in the anim program are going to KICK BUTT in several fields that you may not excel in#this is partially why i started drawing on my phone#bc it forces me to work with a small canvas. thus fewer details#i can't overthink what i can't see on my tiny screen!!!!#anyway. this period of unemployment has actually helped me draw personal art again. it's nice to rediscover your hobby AS A HOBBY#here's hoping u get something out of ur up-n-coming drawings too......#feesh answer
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devils-yui · 6 days ago
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Reposting this from a friend bc I think it is VERY important to know of this, and for immigrants, and other possible victims of the ICE Raids happening right now
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Here’s to also a very huge edit, from the list of very helpful people who have been reblogging and providing more info.
I’m not as well informed but I will be relaying the information and tagging each person who added onto this post:
@onthedriftinthetardis -
The phone number in the first photo is ONLY for Orange County, California!
Look up your local ACLU affiliate here
@6feetunderwater -
It always makes me nervous to see a reporting phone number passed around without any links to verify it, so the number in the first pic can be found on the site for the Orange County Rapid Response Network, which is "an interconnected system of non-profit and grassroots organizations, civil rights attorneys, law school clinics, and individuals working together to respond to dehumanizing immigration enforcement activities and policies in Orange County"
@geekerypeekery -
The second warrant is not fake, but is an administrative rather than judicial warrant, and has no constitutional authority to bypass Fourth Amendment protections - in other words, it does not entitle the bearer to enter and search your home. It simply authorizes agents of the issuing department to contact you. Always ask to see the warrant before opening your door!
In addition to the ACLU links, try contacting the National Immigration Law Center https://www.nilc.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Warrants-Subpoenas-Facts.pdf
@american-anger -
The phone number listed here is specific to Orange County in California, but you can look up other California counties here:
CALIFORNIA RAPID RESPONSE NETWORKS
@beaniebaneenie -
Unpleasant reminder: within 100 miles of the border (which is home to 200 million people and virtually all major cities in the US), ICE does not need a warrant to enter your home, your car, to search anything, or even to arrest you.
You are not automatically safe just because they don't have a real warrant.
The best and safest thing you can do is learn to have escape routes- quick ways to get out of the house or area you're in if you find out ICE or CBP are around. Those of us who do have documentation? Time for us to step the fuck up.
Film any interaction. Every interaction. If you're able, step into the conversation and be a Karen/Kyle- weaponize your privilege for Good. If you get asked about people? Use positive but vague statements so you a) cannot be caught in a lie, and b) do not give any information away.
"I don't know them that well, but I don't tend to socialize much. They seem great to me."
"I can't remember the last time I saw them."
"Maybe they speak another language, I can't remember details. But I picked up Duolingo during the pandemic and tons of other people did too."
"I'm not sure."
"I'm sorry, I can't help you."
Even if you're somewhere the 100-mile Exception doesn't apply and a warrant is in fact needed? I don't expect ICE and CBP to play by the rules for long, if at all. I fully expect this to get ugly, and fast.
Cheeto has already declared an emergency of national security at the border, and is mobilizing the military to have jurisdiction over a huge swath of the country. It's essentially tantamount to martial law. And it's only been four days.
Gear up for a long, hard fight. This is gonna be a marathon, not a sprint.
— I am leaving all of this as an edit because on the off chance someone does find the posts that have these people specifically reblogging, I don’t want it to be too late. So I’m comprising it all here
Here are a few other people’s reblogs I thought were important:
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Thank you @onthedriftinthetardis @6feetunderwater @geekerypeekery @american-anger @beaniebaneenie @bunnychiffon @dubiouslynamed @trisockatops @witchy-disaster for contributing and helping me make this a more well-informed post. Thank you so much
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bronsinseele · 1 month ago
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like the thing is the writers Know how to limit a cast for a story. the fact that they don’t do it is befuddling to me. like i know they do it for sales but dear god the quality is ultimately poor.
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astyrra · 8 months ago
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the only good thing about learning java for work is i am now approximately 10% more confident in writing this crafttweaker script
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aethersea · 7 months ago
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another thing fantasy writers should keep track of is how much of their worldbuilding is aesthetic-based. it's not unlike the sci-fi hardness scale, which measures how closely a story holds to known, real principles of science. The Martian is extremely hard sci-fi, with nearly every detail being grounded in realistic fact as we know it; Star Trek is extremely soft sci-fi, with a vaguely plausible "space travel and no resource scarcity" premise used as a foundation for the wildest ideas the writers' room could come up with. and much as Star Trek fuckin rules, there's nothing wrong with aesthetic-based fantasy worldbuilding!
(sidenote we're not calling this 'soft fantasy' bc there's already a hard/soft divide in fantasy: hard magic follows consistent rules, like "earthbenders can always and only bend earth", and soft magic follows vague rules that often just ~feel right~, like the Force. this frankly kinda maps, but I'm not talking about just the magic, I'm talking about the worldbuilding as a whole.
actually for the purposes of this post we're calling it grounded vs airy fantasy, bc that's succinct and sounds cool.)
a great example of grounded fantasy is Dungeon Meshi: the dungeon ecosystem is meticulously thought out, the plot is driven by the very realistic need to eat well while adventuring, the story touches on both social and psychological effects of the whole 'no one dies forever down here' situation, the list goes on. the worldbuilding wants to be engaged with on a mechanical level and it rewards that engagement.
deliberately airy fantasy is less common, because in a funny way it's much harder to do. people tend to like explanations. it takes skill to pull off "the world is this way because I said so." Narnia manages: these kids fall into a magic world through the back of a wardrobe, befriend talking beavers who drink tea, get weapons from Santa Claus, dance with Bacchus and his maenads, and sail to the edge of the world, without ever breaking suspension of disbelief. it works because every new thing that happens fits the vibes. it's all just vibes! engaging with the worldbuilding on a mechanical level wouldn't just be futile, it'd be missing the point entirely.
the reason I started off calling this aesthetic-based is that an airy story will usually lean hard on an existing aesthetic, ideally one that's widely known by the target audience. Lewis was drawing on fables, fairy tales, myths, children's stories, and the vague idea of ~medieval europe~ that is to this day our most generic fantasy setting. when a prince falls in love with a fallen star, when there are giants who welcome lost children warmly and fatten them up for the feast, it all fits because these are things we'd expect to find in this story. none of this jars against what we've already seen.
and the point of it is to be wondrous and whimsical, to set the tone for the story Lewis wants to tell. and it does a great job! the airy worldbuilding serves the purposes of the story, and it's no less elegant than Ryōko Kui's elaborately grounded dungeon. neither kind of worldbuilding is better than the other.
however.
you do have to know which one you're doing.
the whole reason I'm writing this is that I saw yet another long, entertaining post dragging GRRM for absolute filth. asoiaf is a fun one because on some axes it's pretty grounded (political fuck-around-and-find-out, rumors spread farther than fact, fastest way to lose a war is to let your people starve, etc), but on others it's entirely airy (some people have magic Just Cause, the various peoples are each based on an aesthetic/stereotype/cliché with no real thought to how they influence each other as neighbors, the super-long seasons have no effect on ecology, etc).
and again! none of this is actually bad! (well ok some of those stereotypes are quite bigoted. but other than that this isn't bad.) there's nothing wrong with the season thing being there to highlight how the nobles are focused on short-sighted wars for power instead of storing up resources for the extremely dangerous and inevitable winter, that's a nice allegory, and the looming threat of many harsh years set the narrative tone. and you can always mix and match airy and grounded worldbuilding – everyone does it, frankly it's a necessity, because sooner or later the answer to every worldbuilding question is "because the author wanted it to be that way." the only completely grounded writing is nonfiction.
the problem is when you pretend that your entirely airy worldbuilding is actually super duper grounded. like, for instance, claiming that your vibes-based depiction of Medieval Europe (Gritty Edition) is completely historical, and then never even showing anyone spinning. or sniffing dismissively at Tolkien for not detailing Aragorn's tax policy, and then never addressing how a pre-industrial grain-based agricultural society is going years without harvesting any crops. (stored grain goes bad! you can't even mouse-proof your silos, how are you going to deal with mold?) and the list goes on.
the man went up on national television and invited us to engage with his worldbuilding mechanically, and then if you actually do that, it shatters like spun sugar under the pressure. doesn't he realize that's not the part of the story that's load-bearing! he should've directed our focus to the political machinations and extensive trope deconstruction, not the handwavey bit.
point is, as a fantasy writer there will always be some amount of your worldbuilding that boils down to 'because I said so,' and there's nothing wrong with that. nor is there anything wrong with making that your whole thing – airy worldbuilding can be beautiful and inspiring. but you have to be aware of what you're doing, because if you ask your readers to engage with the worldbuilding in gritty mechanical detail, you had better have some actual mechanics to show them.
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glowingsand · 1 year ago
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drawing for social media is really fucking exhausting
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hiraethwrote · 4 months ago
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THE HEART GROWS FONDER
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pairing : kento nanami x f!reader summary : (requested) — kento nanami loved you before he even knew you, and his feelings were the one thing he never questioned. like pieces of a puzzle, you fit together. whatever happens, your feelings never waver. cw : childhood friends to lovers, reader is v emotional, canon events/jjk0 spoilers, mentions of character death, mutual and intense pining, miscommunication lack of communication, mild one-bed-trope?, platonic!satoru (bc apparently i am unable to write anything without mentioning him), light profanity, pet names, talk of wedding, sweet fluff, a good chunk of angst, slight jealousy, no use of y/n word count : 10.1 k
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Kento was a knowledgeable man.
He knew how long it took to get from one place in Tokyo to another, no matter what time of day it was. Well aware of all the best routes for traveling the city most efficiently, even during rush hours.
He knew all the ways to make the most money. Not what he was proudest of, but working hard had garnered him a set of useful skills that made him a good employee, a real asset to the company.
He knew how to read a map, a skill long forgotten by most in this day and age. Should he ever find himself in a situation where there was no reception, he would be able to get his hands on a sheet displaying the nearby areas and figure out how to return to civilisation.
He knew how to best take care of his body. He had done extensive research to make sure he moved his body correctly during workouts to not harm himself. He wasn’t interested in aching joints when he was old and gray.
And he knew he loved you — since the very first moment his eyes landed on you all those years ago.
He remembered the exact moment in excruciating detail as well, like how he had turned a little scared at the unfamiliar sensation of a racing heartbeat. When pressing his hand to his chest, he felt the rapid thumping. He quickly realised it was caused by the sight of you when it happened every time he spotted you.
His dad would tease him whenever he caught Kento sitting in the windowsill, chubby cheeks resting on his forearms as he gazed lovingly towards the little girl playing in her front yard a few houses down. “I’m sure she would love to play with you.” His face would turn bright crimson, a colour that had become all too common in the Nanami household whenever you were brought up, before an embarrassed Kento would stomp up to his room.
He didn’t learn your name until the first day of school — your parents had arranged for the two of you to walk to school together. He had been over the moon when he heard the news, pure excitement filling his body to the point where he could not sit still. But the moment he was stood in front of you, your voice sweet as honey when introducing yourself, his throat dried out and he turned tongue tied. His mom placed a hand on his shoulder, bringing his feet back on the ground, “Kento,” he croaked weakly before disappearing into his jacket.
With small feet carrying you to and from school, you tried to force a conversation out of him but to no prevail. He remained shy and quiet, eventually resulting in a statement that had saddened him more than he could have anticipated; “you don’t talk much, do you?”
There had been no ill intent in your words, but it had Kento distance himself from you. What was supposed to blossom into a friendship (and maybe even more with time), only simmered down to him consistently trialing five steps behind you on the path to school that became all too bleak when it hadn’t turned out how he had imagined it.
His infatuation didn’t seem to disappear anytime soon either. If anything, now having the opportunity to observe you in closer proximity only deepened his feelings. He now got to witness the outgoing and bubbly personality that was wrapped in your cute exterior, exceeding all his expectations of what he had imagined you would be like — fascinated by how you seemed to excel in aspects where he lacked.
And the more time that passed, it seemed the day he would find the courage to catch up and walk along side you traveled further out of his reach.
He continued to admire from afar, watching as you earned yourselves new friendships as easily as putting your shoes on in the morning. Kento wasn’t the only one drawn to your outgoing personality and charming smile, his heart breaking a little when you formed a tight knit friend group and he didn’t get to be a part of it.
That’s how it went. Kento sort of just blended into the background, never making a number of himself. He was nearly certain no one really knew he even existed at all (except the teachers, who absolutely adored him). Day after day, he sat by himself with a book in his hands, only ever looking up to admire you for a few seconds as you would play with your friends.
However, he preferred the quiet life in school more than what it evolved into as second grade rolled around.
During recess, he would sit with his book, same as always, counting the minutes until school was over so he would walk those five familiar steps behind you — that’s when two third graders had approached him, their intention clear as day.
Their antics continued for two weeks — until what he thought was the voice of an angel interrupted.
“Hi there.”
Kento would recognise that voice anywhere, turning towards the source to see you, huge grin plastered on your face, both hands behind your back as you stared down the two third graders.
“What’s going on here?” You asked in such a sweet and innocent tone, but all three of the boys could see there was something borderline unfriendly in your eyes that was not present in your words.
“Doesn’t concern you,” one of the mean kids bit back.
“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your lips together before shifting to a serious tone. “I think it does, because from over there-“ you pointed in the direction of where you had stood moments earlier, “it looked like you were picking on my friend.”
Friend? Had he heard you right?
Before they could retaliate, you had already opened your mouth again, “I’ll scream! The adults will come and you’ll be in biiiig trouble!” Your tone had been so cheerful, but that same threatening intent lingered in your gaze — a look one did not want to receive from a stubborn, little seven year old.
It seemed like your scare tactic worked, because after grumbling to themselves for a few seconds, they shuffled away with their tails between their legs. And once they were far enough away not to be a bother anymore, you squatted down on the gravel beside Kento, wrapping your arms around your legs.
“You okay, Kento?” Completely transformed, not a hint of your malice present any longer, just soft and genuine concern when speaking his name.
He blinked a few times, using the back of his hand to dry the few tears that had watered up in the corner of his eyes before he answered you. “‘M fine,” he sniffled, then daring to look you in the eyes to mutter a shy “thank you.”
“Anytime.”
You couldn’t explain why you had decided to interfere — because labelling Kento a friend wasn’t entirely true. The boy had barely said a word to you for the year you had known him, but you had just been filled with anger when you witnessed the older kids choose to pick on him. He did not have a mean bone in his body. And maybe somewhere along the line, you had gained a soft spot for the reserved kid, having not been able to stop glancing over your shoulder from time to time when you walked to and from school, just to make sure he was still there.
Never had Kento imagined that the taunting from his upperclassman would be his biggest blessing to date. He no longer sat alone during lunch, but instead accepted your invite to eat with you and your little clique.
And finally your friendship with Kento had the opportunity to grow.
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Thanks to you, school had become a lot more enjoyable for him after that. The walks to and from school was no longer spent with an awkward distance, now matching your pace as you both indulged in small talk from the moment you left school until he left you at your door.
He knew he should have been satisfied, and in one way he was. He was finally allowed to call you his friend after all, but during school hours, you usually hung out the entire group. And on your spare time, you had a tendency to reserve your time just for the girls. So while he wished for more, he continued to shoot longing, and not so subtle, gazes across the table.
It abruptly changed when you were thirteen, walking home from school like any other day, when your blunt question had cut through the conversation.
“Hey, you want to go to the movies with me?”
“What?” Kento’s thirteen year old brain had not been able to comprehend the question, stopping dead in his tracks to stare at you with big eyes, swallowing the massive lump in his throat. Had you just asked him on a date?
You stopped when you noticed he did, staring right back at him like this wasn’t a big deal. “None of the girls were interested, and you’re the only boy in our group I can tolerate without any of the girls,” you rolled your eyes. You had turned a little feisty when entering your teens.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, drawing his lips into an awkward line, hoping he could play it off as a smile.
Your deadpanned expression immediately twisted into one of pure joy. “Great!”
Kento had stood in front of his mirror all afternoon, using both his hands to smoothen the crinkles of his shirt, treating it very much like a date. He didn’t even realise how long he had been stressing in his room until his mom came knocking, telling him you were waiting outside.
He had been a little disappointed when he saw you, because it became very evident you did not consider it a date. Wearing the same outfit you had worn to school that day, resting on the handlebars of your bike. “C’mon, we need to get popcorn before the movie starts,” you nagged, just the tiniest bit annoyed.
When stood in the kiosk, he had offered to pay for the popcorn, like the good, little gentleman he had been raised to be. “Oh, no need. Mom gave me money to pay for it,” you said cheerfully with a shrug and a smile. “Thanks, though.”
The movie couldn’t hold Kento’s attention, even if he wanted to, because for the whole ninety minutes you had your knee rested against his. The sensation of the shy touch of your leg had his heart beat so loud against his ribcage, he was scared you might turn to him and tell it to shush so you could hear the movie.
It wasn’t much, but the pressing feeling was definitely prominent enough that you had to be aware of it too. And in his mind, it seemed only logical you kept your leg still against his because you wanted it to touch him. But whenever he flickered his eyes over to you, you seemed utterly unbothered, attention fixated on the screen as your hand continued to grab popcorn from the bucket.
He tried to keep his breath even, letting his tension spill out by clenching and unclenching his fists. He was so determined to sit completely still, scared the tiniest flinch would cause you to shift your leg away from him.
Trips to the movies, just in each other’s company, became a regular occurrence after that. And about half of the time, you let him pay… only because you paid the other half, but he let himself wallow in the idea that he was treating you for the evening.
He was in high school when one of your friends had asked about it. “What’s really going on there, Kento?”
He had immediately decided to play dumb. Not because he was embarrassed, but if there was even the slightest chance it would feed them material they could use to make you uncomfortable, he wanted to avoid it. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, man,” he laughed mockingly. “You and her,” nodding towards where you stood with your girlfriends in the cafeteria line. “The two of you hang out with each other more than us these days.”
“I don’t know, we’re friends?” Kento shrugged, almost certain he was able to play it off as casual.
“Friends? Right, friends who constantly go on movie dates together.”
“They’re not dates,” was all he had been able to say to defend himself, feeling his cheeks grow hot like they had done when he was younger.
They had all chucked at him then. “Yeah, whatever man. Congratulations bagging the prettiest girl in school,” was the last thing that was said before you and the rest of the girls joined their table. You sat down beside Kento, like always.
Carefully, you had nudged his arm to get his attention. “You okay?” You asked quietly so only he could hear.
He gave you a weak but genuine smile. “Yes, just lost in thought is all.” You smiled back at him, making his heart skip a beat.
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You don’t remember when it changed for you. If it had been a gradual thing, or if you had just woken up one day with this feeling — but something was definitely different.
The realisation had hit you mid sentence. Rambling on about some meaningless topic, like you always did, and suddenly you noticed the way he was looking at you.
He was listening so intently, not missing a single word coming from your mouth, a faint smile stamped at the corner of his lips and a tenderness in his eyes you hadn’t really noticed before. You only managed to snap out of it when he spoke your name.
“Am I losing you by not talking?” He teased before taking a sip out of his coffee.
“Shit,” you muttered, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “I just remembered this group assignment I have due tomorrow.” A lie — and an obvious one at that. But Kento didn’t get a moment to ask any follow-up questions before you had gathered your stuff and rushed to say goodbye, leaving him alone in the cafe.
For the entire walk home, you thought about Kento, now suddenly in a new light, reflecting over the entirety of your friendship.
You became aware of how he always seemed to prioritise you in the group without hesitation. You had just brushed it off, assuming he felt indebted to you for coming to his rescue when you were seven. But you realised now how ridiculous that sounded.
You thought of all the times he had come running when you had asked for him. Whether it was after a fight with one of your girlfriends, or a date that had gone horribly wrong, he dropped everything to be by your side.
You realised now why you always caught yourself answering with a frown when girls came to ask you about him. As you had gotten older, he had definitely grown into his looks, a subtle kind of handsome that snuck up on you.
When you got home, you had pulled out your phone to send a text to apologise for bailing so abruptly. But you typed and deleted the message twenty times over, anxiety you had never felt about him before overwhelming you. In the end, you ended up not sending anything at all, feeling like no words sufficed.
And the next time you met, you acted as if nothing had happened, and he just went along with it.
You tried desperately to act as if nothing had changed, beyond terrified you would scare him off or make him uncomfortable if he picked up on your new and revolutionary feelings for him. If there was one thing you were absolute certain about, it was that you would never do anything to jeopardise the friendship you had with him. There was no competition of what person in your life you cherished the most; Kento Nanami. You’d be the earth's biggest fool to gamble that away for anything.
When you were 16, you nearly caved.
In your desperate attempt of keeping things normal, you had continued your meaningless escapades — which meant going on terrible dates with even more terrible guys — turns out teenage boys are just assholes by default.
“It’s their loss,” Kento cooed in a warm tone, sitting beside you on your bed with a comforting arm around your shoulders.
In all honesty, you didn’t even care all that much about the date. You couldn’t even remember the guy’s name. No, your mind was way more interested in how his strong hand cupped your arm so perfectly.
You turned to look at him, faces closer than ever before. He happily held your gaze — you were just hoping he was able to read the messages it conveyed.
Tell me to stop seeing these guys, and I’ll stop.
Tell me you want me the way I want you.
Tell me it’s you I’m meant to be with.
“You’ll find someone worthy of you eventually.”
Your heart sunk, having built up your own expectations based on how his eyes had roamed your face as if he truly desired you. Maybe this was all in your head.
It wasn’t.
But Kento, much like you, didn’t want to lose you over anything. Confessing risked the relationship he already had with you. He would rather have you as a friend, than not have you in his life at all.
Not long after that, you both joined Jujutsu tech. Slowly but surely, you slipped away from your childhood group — him more than you. You tried your very best to stay in touch, though your new schedule made that hard.
With these new threats looming around you, neither of you could help how your friendship — or whatever you would call what was going on between you — continued to grow deeper. More serious. It went unsaid by the both of you, but there was just a mutual understanding that it was the logical development when there was the slightest possibility of it ending all too soon.
Still neither of you confessed.
You fell into routines, so accustomed to seeing him every minute of every day, your first instinct when returning from a mission was to find him.
As expected, Kento heard the three soft knocks he knew all too well at this point, before you squeezed through his door. With a deep exhale, you fell back on his bed, while he sat in his desk chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m exhausted.”
“Did you just get back?” His muscles were a little tense, like they always where whenever you had to go on a mission without him, his eyes searching every inch of you to see if there were any visible injuries he had to worry about.
“Little over an hour ago. Had to escape Gojo talking my ear off about his own mission.”
Kento observed how the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a tired smile, your chest vibrating with a soft chuckle.
He was always happy to see you come back unharmed, but he hated the exhaustion that rested in your joints — and it filled him with an unexplainable urge to help you somehow.
He imagined guiding you to lay on your stomach, placing his legs on each side of you and slowly soothing your muscles, rubbing caring motions along the curves of your body to fill it with the relaxation you deserved — but he couldn’t. It would definitely cross a line, too intimate for just friends.
“Glad you’re back,” he said almost in a whisper.
“Me too.” He could barely hear you, the mission slowly catching up with your energy as well, sensing on your breathing that you weren’t too far from falling asleep.
The silence that surrounded you was comfortable. You had grown so accustomed to each other’s presence, any awkwardness had ceased to exist. Nevertheless, Kento didn’t quite know what to do with himself, just looking at you sprawled out on his bed, a scene he would like to see every night.
“Kento?” Your voice was so soft.
“Yes?”
“Can I stay here tonight?”
He heard the slight hesitation in your voice before you expressed your request. Raising up his neck and face was a burning heat, his breathing coming out shallow as he didn’t quite know what to say.
Being a cautious man, he thought of every possible outcome.
It was prohibited, so he should decline. But he would hate himself forever if he simply sent you away because of the school’s outdated rules — he also knew he would regret it until his heart stopped beating.
So having you stay here was the only reasonable outcome — but then what? He supposed he would end up sleeping on the floor, like the gentleman he was. He would at least never assume he could sleep next to you, and he would not be as vulgar to ask.
He cleared his throat before speaking. “Of course. I’ll just-“
“Kento,” you said his name again, just as soft as always.
“Yeah?”
“There’s room for both of us on the bed.”
He had to swallow the massive lump that felt as if it was suffocating him. It at least stopped any further words to come out of his mouth. He slowly raised from the chair, floorboards creaking as he stepped over.
With his eyes locked on you, seemingly so calm with your eyes closed, he positioned himself beside you so he was facing you.
Goosebumps prickled up his arm when he felt your breath fan against his face, and he wondered how you managed to keep it in such an even rhythm. Didn’t this closeness send lightning through your body like it did for him, temptation threatening the act of finally crossing the line?
There was a crease between your eyebrows that seemed unintentional, like the events of the day had just planted themselves on your face and even your calm breathing couldn’t ease it. Against his better judgment, Kento’s urges steered his thumb towards your face, not reflecting over his action before he had ran his skin across the crinkle to smoothen the tension.
Shit, he thought to himself, certain you would open your mouth to tell him off — instead he saw how there had been a slight strain to your shoulders that was now released.
While he let his eyes roam your face, taking in every breathtaking aspect of your beauty, he felt a small spark of fear fill him at how right it all felt — lying next to you, so close he could feel the warmth radiate from your skin, his soft touch being able to bring rest to your body, the mere idea that he could envelop you in his arms if he wanted to.
“I’m happy you’re here with me,” your voice startled him a little, as he had assumed you had already fallen into the oblivion of sleep. “I’d never be able to navigate this world without you.”
“That’s not true.” Your eyes opened to meet his, catching his breath immediately, so stunningly deep he always felt himself fall into them. “You’ve always been the one looking out for me.”
You chuckled a little at that, endless memories of the two of you throughout childhood. “I guess in one way. But you’ve always kept me afloat.”
“You give yourself too little credit.” He had to stop himself from letting his fingers graze your cheek in the most tender caress. “You would have done just fine on your own.”
A small smile of flattery dared dance on your lips. “But I don’t want to.” It felt like a confession, unspoken feelings hidden within those words, begging for him to be able to deduce the true meaning. “Thinking of a life where you’re not at my side scares me.”
“Let’s never find out what that life is like.”
Kento would later eat those words.
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Haibara’s death hit Kento the hardest. Numerous evenings were spent in the eerie silence of his cold dorm. When he cried, you held him. When he was trying to distract himself by reading, you sat and watched him, keeping him company. When he went the entire night without sparing you the slightest gaze, you knew you had overstayed your welcome, leaving him to be alone for a night.
“I don’t think I will continue to be a sorcerer.”
That was the first thing he said that hadn’t been a complete necessity, and it sent a spike of ice down your spine, not daring to understand his statement right away.
“Oh,” was the only thing you could think of to respond that did not entertain his idea.
His eyes met yours, the eye contact more intense than it had been for days, realising just how much you had missed having his kind eyes directed at you. Seemed like he felt it too, as the smallest gasp slipped out of him.
“I mean it.”
The tears instantly burned in your eyes, blinking them away before they had the chance to come running. “That's what scares me,” your voice betrayed you as the usual confidence came out cracked.
He didn’t push it any further, reading you as an open book — you knew he was telling the truth, but refused to acknowledge it. It was like if you ignored his statement, it would somehow end differently.
Luckily, after that night, Kento started to somewhat fall back to his old self. His smile started to return, it was easier to hold a conversation with him, which you obviously appreciated — however, he had planted a fear in you that had taken your body hostage.
You abandoned any sense of boundaries entirely, hanging onto his arm at all times. It was only when you were physically aware of his frame you were able to cling onto a string of peace. Feeling his body glued at your side only served as a confirmation that he was still here, and as long as you held on he couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t leave.
And whenever you had to pry yourself off of him to tend to your responsibilities where he wasn’t assigned, you were constantly living in a state of anxiety. Foot tapping against the floor, picking at your skin, petrified you would end up returning to see his room stripped of any signs of life — that he would have finally done the thing he said he would do, and part with the Jujutsu world.
Every time you returned, the sweetest sensation of relief washed over you, tears welling up immediately when he always stood ready to greet you. “Hey you,” he said softly, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight until he could physically feel your body let go of the stress that had tainted every muscle, every joint, for the entire time you had been separated.
But graduation day came and time was up.
You had held onto hope he would eventually change his mind, that it was only the initial grief that had weighed heavy on his conscience. But you were now standing in his bare room, everything packed into cardboard boxes. Of course it had only been a childish dream to think he would stay — there was no changing his mind.
“I really am sorry.” He was so earnest, like always, making it hard to be mad at him even though you so desperately wanted to. He genuinely had so much compassion, his hands stroking your arms in an attempt to calm the bouncing of your shoulders that followed the frantic rhythm of your sobs.
“I just don’t understand why?” You continued to sob, sentence coming out in sad intervals as you heaved for air.
“This isn’t right. It’s not right of them to expect us to be okay with watching our partners lay down their lives like this.”
You wanted so badly to scream at him, bang your fists against his chest before clasping onto his shirt so he wouldn’t even have the opportunity to leave. You knew it was unwarranted for you to feel that way, but the fact that he was following through with his stunt felt like a betrayal.
“You said we weren’t going to find out what this would be like.”
His heart shattered. Looking into your doe eyes, tainted red with sorrow as the sentence laced with innocence sent him back to every fragile evening throughout your journey together he had spent comforting you. How many tears he had dried, happily so? But this time it was his doing — him who brought you to a state of despair so grave you couldn’t breathe, and he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to comfort you.
Waiting for his next words were torture, time at a standstill watching his mouth open and close while he constructed the sentence in his mind. Though useless, the glimmer of hope refused to die out, begging for his surrender — you’re right, I’ll stay.
“I’m sorry.”
Another one of your earth shattering sobs came flying past your lips, stabbing him right in the heart that had only ever beaten for you.
Comforting you would always be second nature to him, which had his hands cup your face and pulling it closer to rest his forehead against yours. He wished, begged, for his touch to bring you comfort one last time before he left. But your body continued to shake. “It’ll be okay,” he tried to reassure you, spoken in a faint whisper. Repeating it over and over, waiting for his small affirmations to take affect — they never did.
Ask me to come with you.
Those six words played like a broken record in your mind, knowing you would pack your bags and abandon this god forsaken life at the drop of a hat if he just asked you to.
Come with me.
The request laid restless at the tip of his tongue, fighting every voice in him that was screaming at him to be selfish. But he couldn’t with you, never with you.
Unlike him, you had a purpose in this world — you were able to see the good in what you did, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he ripped you away from it no matter how much he wanted to.
There seemed like there was no limit to your tears. Shuddering against his touch, he sensed your body didn’t have much energy left to stand. He ended up leading the two of you to his bed, stripped bare to just the mattress, duvet folded at the end. Without any words spoken, you laid down in his arms, burying your face in his chest while the sobs continued to tumble out uncontrollably.
His strong arms locked around you, holding you as close to him as humanly possible, letting the illusion of him never disappearing from you live on for another night.
Eventually your sobs calmed down, only happening sporadically. The shaking stopped and he felt your breathing even out, telling him you had finally been able to let sleep consume you.
He couldn’t stop himself — placing a chaste kiss at the crown of your head, mumbling quiet and secret apologies before sleep caught him too.
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According to Gojo, his departure had been quick. He hadn’t said much, just given them all a nod before grabbing his bags and disappearing.
You had decided against seeing him off. The two of you had said your goodbyes the night before in the solemn of his empty dorm. It had been wet, heartbreaking and nothing short of painful, but at least it had been private between the two of you. No one knew how your tears had soaked his shirt, or how your fists had created crinkles in the fabric while desperately holding onto him. No one knew how you had cried until the exhaustion knocked you out in his arms, so scared to wake up to face the new reality where Kento wasn’t at your immediate side like he had been since you were kids.
You couldn’t really remember what it was like to not have him there. Even before you had grown close, he had always lingered, the one thing in your life that had stayed consistent throughout it all was him.
The next weeks were absolutely torture, having to feed the people surrounding you endless lies of “I’m fine, really.” You were really just trying to prevent yourself from letting the reality set in properly. If that can of worms were to open again, you had no clue when or how you would be able to stop it. Last time you had still been able to seek some comfort against his warmth, only able to stop it because you practically passed out.
Not a single moment passed where he didn’t cross your mind, small things reminding you of him. All your little routines — for days you forgot to grab lunch because you were so used to him bringing it to you. For days you ended up with one towel too many, because you always brought an extra for him after training. Mundane things you had always taken for granted, gone in an instant.
Despite feeling a little betrayed, you couldn’t really blame him either. So you reached deep within yourself to try and stay positive. It wasn’t like he was gone gone, he had just retreated to a normal life.
You stayed in touch, sending regular updates about how you were getting by in the world of curses without him — lying of course. When he had left, he had taken some of the purpose you had in it all with him. But you didn’t want him to worry. You told him how you eventually started teaching at Jujutsu High alongside Gojo, and it felt nice to be responsible for the next generation of sorcerers.
And at first you received regular updates in return. He got himself a quaint little apartment that fitted his needs perfectly. You even got a few blurry photos of how he had tried to decorate it so it would feel more homely — you had cried when you received those.
You never called each other though. It seemed like there was a mutual understanding that it would be too unbearable to hear the voice of the other.
After a while, the updates slowly came to a halt. You kept on sending yours however, only for that little checkmark to appear and confirm he had read it. But no answer — you cried then too.
Had you said something or done something to make him cut the contact? You never managed to wrap your head around why he stopped showing you his new life.
Kento had never wanted to stop sending the messages — on the contrary. If anything, he had to stop himself from not telling you about every single minute of his day, even the most meaningless things, just as an excuse to talk to you.
But one day, thanks to a white haired little birdie, all consuming guilt had struck him. “She doesn’t say it, but she’s miserable.”
He held his breath, his fingers unintentionally clenching tighter around his phone. “She is?” His voice came out faint. He heard Gojo let out a deep sigh at the other end of the line.
“She tries. Very hard. I stopped asking a long time ago because she kept lying anyways.”
“Oh.” Kento had been a fool, believing your words when he had read them on his screen. When he hadn’t been able to hear the tone behind the statements, he had been able to convince himself they were genuine. But of course you were lying — he was, after all.
“But I think she really enjoys teaching,” Gojo said after a moment of sad silence, trying to fill the conversation with some optimism. “And the kids love her.”
“Yes, I can imagine as much,” a small smile appearing on his lips, picturing the scene of you with the young students.
“Look, I have to run, she’s waving me over. Should I-“
“No!” Kento rushed to cut him off. “No, don’t say anything. Please.”
He made up his mind then and there — he was not going to cause you any more pain. So he had to let you go entirely to allow you to move on. The way he was selfishly clinging onto the crumps you gave him seemed to do you no good, if the image Gojo painted was accurate.
So he stopped. Even though his fingers urged to reach out, he fought against it, for you.
You, however, could not hinder how your finger pressed the send button every now and then. The updates definitely became less frequent when he went radio silent, but you did not have the strength to stop. If you stopped… there was a fear he would never come back.
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Kento was supposed to share his life with you.
He had believed so ever since he was a little kid, ogling you from afar before he even knew your name. The way you made his heart jump and pulse quicken had to be his body’s way of telling him you were meant to be with him, quickly growing addicted, dependent, on the reactions you created in him without trying.
But he had made the drastic choice of abandoning that feeling, convinced the alternative did you harm — and the mere concept of being the reason you even felt the faintest glimmer of discomfort was something he could not live with.
He welcomed the misery, a small price to pay for the belief that you were doing better now. He also thought he had good reason to believe that was the case.
The updates you sent him were few and far between these days, but it did paint a picture. You were rarely in the photos, but there was an energy present in the moments eternalised that seemed pleasant and positive. He imagined you had found your role, your place in life where you would get to fulfil your potential. And whether or not he was there was irrelevant.
He convinced himself his own insecurities were a reality to make it easier to bear.
Ever since childhood, you had been the headstrong one. The independent one. The brave one. It always lingered in the back of his mind whenever he just observed you in different scenarios — that it really didn’t matter if he was there or not, forever just an accessory to your life. He even feared he was holding you back somehow.
So it was only reasonable to think time away from him would have provided you with the playing field to develop into the best version of yourself… right?
Years went by and Kento’s pain didn’t ease. He missed you — every single day. And he kept living in that constant state of torture for you, until the fantasy shattered.
It was just another day, nothing out of the ordinary. Kento was going about his drowsy routines of stopping by the same bakery he did every morning before work. However today, he was nearly tackled by two kids, a boy and a girl about the age of six, once he entered the building.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” a grown woman rushed over to apologise as she brought the children back to their little table.
“It’s no problem,” he mumbled monotonously, eyes following them as they scattered back to their seats, where another woman sat.
A wave of nostalgia crashed over him, feeling like he had the privilege of looking back in time. The little boy resembled a young Kento Nanami, his blonde locks neatly styled, chubby, red cheeks and a baby-blue button up shirt — a rather mature attire for a six year old.
And the boy had his eyes glued on his friend, a girl the same age, very evidently the more outgoing out of the two. She was rambling enthusiastically, arms waving all over the place as he told her story down to the smallest detail, exhibiting the same spark you always had.
The boy kept a glare of pure awe as he followed her every word, seen so clearly in his eyes how much he admired her. And Kento knew how this story would continue — that night the boy would lay in his bed, the biggest smile on his face, unable to fall asleep as the day spent with his friend would play on repeat in his mind — much like Kento had spent countless nights when he was young.
It wasn’t until the girl behind the counter called for him he was able to pull his attention away from the all too familiar scene.
So polite, a sweet smile on her face as she served him the same thing he ordered every day. And then she asked how he was sleeping. It fascinated him, how this girl didn’t owe him anything, and had her own worries — like the little curse sat on her shoulder — and still showed concern for him.
He had noticed the curse before, but purposely never done anything about it. It wasn’t a proper threat, and it would be more of a hustle for him to deal with the reactions of ridding her of it than let it be. But now, having the innocent scene a few feet from him remind him of you, he quickly began to consider doing the girl a favour.
You would have exorcised it — without hesitation.
Not just that, you would probably give him crap for not exorcising it immediately. It wouldn't cost him anything to do it, so why wouldn’t he?
“Could you take a step forward, please?” Kento asked politely, the girl a little confused but doing as he said. He had your voice in the back of his mind while he easily exorcised the curse with one swift motion, the strain in her shoulder easing immediately.
“Huh? It’s lighter!” She exclaimed, rolling her arm around at the newfound relief.
“If anything still feels off, please go to the hospital,” he said with a small nod. He grabbed his food and headed for the exit, sparing one last glance at the table where the two kids sat, still deep in the conversation.
His lungs let out a deep, involuntary breath when the realisation dawned on him — he could no longer stay away, caving to his desires.
Maybe enough time had passed for it not to be considered selfish? If you had in fact found your place where you were content and comfortable, and meeting him again would be causal for you?
The questions kept circulating his mind as he pulled out his phone to dial the one person who would be able to set it all up at the blink of an eye.
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His whole world stopped when he saw you, and he wondered how he had ever thought it a good idea to leave you — how could he possibly have survived all that time without you?
It was almost painful how his heart was clawing at the inside of his chest, desperate to be with you. It wasn’t until he felt the overwhelming pounding he realised his heart had not beat properly for the years he had spent away — meant to beat in unison with yours. His skin was turning cold as ice and the only way for it to regain its warmth was your touch, your soft embrace.
Kento hadn’t known what to expect when he saw you again, but he had certainly thought he would have more rational and coherent thoughts. Right now, it was all scrambling in his head and the only thing that appeared clearly in his mind was you, framed in the halo of your aura, taking his breath as way just as easily as when he was six.
With his body going numb, he observed you interact with Gojo and two kids he assumed were your students. You looked calm, a small smile decorating the plump line of your lips — it wasn’t as radiant as it used to be. In fact, your entire energy just seemed a little off. Maybe you had just gotten home from a mission, or it has been a hectic day in general.
Truth was not so mundane. You wished it was as simple as a long and tiring day. That would mean you could just jump in bed and sleep it off, ready to face a new day tomorrow.
But the day Kento left the jujutsu society behind, he unintentionally stole your spark with him.
You could never hate him for it though, he didn’t know. He only did what he felt like he needed to do, and you would be a terrible friend to stand in the way of that. But you had no control over how your mind decided to react.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder was something you had always heard growing up, and you had never really understood it — until faced with the situation yourself.
Not a day went by where you didn’t think of Kento. You thought of how his grin always grew slowly when watching you, eventually revealing the shy smile lines across his cheeks. The ghost of his touch, which was always dancing the line of appropriate or not, never leaving your mind. Sometimes you still felt the imprint of his arms around you.
“Don’t you guys listen to him for a second,” you chuckled, the tiniest hint of frustration in your voice. “Gojo doesn’t qualify as a responsible adult.”
His jaw fell to the ground in fake offence, eyebrows narrowing at the innocent laughs spilling from the students. “You were never this mean when we were younger,” he whined, folding his arms across his chest, looking like a stubborn child.
“That’s what you think,” you teased, nudging an elbow into his side. “You should have heard the things we said about you behind closed doors.”
His big hand came piercing through the air, pressing it against your face, gently shoving you away from the conversation. A lighthearted, but genuine, little laugh escaped you. “We don’t want to hear what you and your little boyfriend did in private,” Gojo rolled his eyes, pretending to gag at the made up memories.
Annoying as he was, Gojo had a way to actually make you forget the pain of it all for a few seconds. You would never tell him, obviously, that he managed to put the storm inside your head on hold for a second — he would rub it in your face every chance he got.
“Wait, senpai had a boyfriend when she attended here?” One of the students interjected and suddenly the mood of the conversation shifted. Gojo’s hand fell from your face before he shot you an apologetic smile.
For the most part, it was never a problem whenever Kento was brought up in the company of Gojo and Shoko. Everything was out in the open between the three of you, shared history taking away some of the pain. But whenever it slipped outside your little trio, it quickly became a sore topic.
Mouth opening and closing, trying to find the words to answer without having to give an explanation. Luckily, a painfully familiar voice called your name behind you, instantly sending a shiver down your spine.
All of you turned towards the voice, and you couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp at the beautiful image of your other half standing in front of you after all these years.
Your heart’s instinct steered your body, quickly stepping away from the group and latching your arms around Kento’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t hesitate to close his strong arms around your frame, fitting right into the slots they used to fill. His familiar scent filled your senses, memories flooding back in an instant.
“Huh, speak of the devil,” Gojo mumbled.
“Him? That was her boyfriend?”
Gojo quickly snapped out of it. “Let’s give them some privacy, shall we,” and started rushing away the nosy teens.
Kento’s grip loosened and you pulled away, but neither of you dared let your hands leave each other. Your own hands ended up cupping his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on you until it hit you he was actually with you again — he let his rest on your waist, feeling the restlessness in him by how strongly his palms were pressing against you.
He was here. He was actually here.
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There was a deafening silence filling the space of your office. You could feel it in the tension that both of you wanted to say something, but there was an unspoken pressure of saying the right thing.
So you let your eyes roam him, taking in the differences in his appearance.
He was gorgeous, same subtle handsomeness as he had always possessed, but a new confidence displaying it. Everything about him was more defined, sharp features drawing attention to his face, his muscles filling his shirt in a way they never did before.
“So, you and Gojo seem to work well together,” he swallowed, causing embarrassment to flush your face when he pulled you from your blatant admiring.
“We’ve found a rhythm that works for us, I suppose,” you shrugged.
He shifted awkwardly in his seat, arms flexing as he crossed them in front of him. “That’s good. I’m glad.” His tone of his short statements seemed to imply otherwise.
“He’s surprisingly good at his job,” you laughed, “the kids like him.”
“Who would have thought,” there was a pull of his lips, like he tried to smile but it didn’t succeed entirely.
“Not me, that’s for sure. I don’t know, he just meets them were their at.” You really wanted to stop rambling about Gojo. It was so clearly just a desperate way for you to replace the quiet that plagued you without touching the elephant in the room. “Don’t get me wrong, they find him insufferable, but I think they secretly really like him. Much like the rest of us.”
“Sounds about right.”
You squinted at him, slowly growing somewhat antsy. “You’re not jealous of Gojo, are you?”
Of course you still saw right through him. He, who usually managed to hide his true feelings, would never be able to conceal them from you. And he was jealous, petrified that he had made the biggest mistake of his life and Gojo had ended up taking the place that was supposed to be for him only.
“Is there something to be jealous of?”
“You tell me.”
The tension was thick, nearly suffocating, years of yearning and pining fuelling the energy. The reunion only served as a dangerous spark that threatened to set the fuse ablaze at any second.
Why couldn’t he take the first step? He was the one who had showed up all of a sudden, and he still hadn’t given you any explanation. He owed you that much, right? But he kept letting his restlessness control him, one leg bouncing quietly against the floor, hearing how the cogs in his mind were turning.
“Why are you here?”
Your words were soft, but Kento knew you well enough to know the true feelings that lingered in the question.
“I’m coming back.”
“You’re coming back?” You weren’t able to withhold the bite that was slowly making its way into your tone.
“Only if you’re comfortable with it.”
“Don’t do that,” your voice threatened to crack. “I don’t want that responsibility.”
He sighed deeply, unfolding his arms to rest his elbows on his spread knees. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.”
Always so polite. Always acknowledging his faults before they had the opportunity to grow. Always so damn righteous.
“What I meant to say is it looks like you’ve really managed to establish yourself here, and I wouldn’t want to come in and cause any discomfort by intruding what is essentially your space.”
The sound that escaped you next was a mixture between a flat laugh and a scoff, not entirely appreciating the way he was behaving. “Have we been apart so long you can’t talk to me like I’m your best friend?”
That had him look up at you, meeting your eyes instantly. You were sad, visible on your entire demeanour — maybe not to the average person looking, but he saw, still able to read you like an open book.
“Hope not,” he tried to smile, lips formed into a tight line that exposed how nervous he really was. His attention shifted to look at his fists folded together, words resting on his tongue, he just wanted to be sure it came out right. “I’ve missed you.” Silence. “There hasn’t been a day where you haven’t crossed my mind.”
“Sounds familiar.” There was no hiding the flush crawling up his neck and colouring the tips of his ears red at the sound of your confession.
“It was the thought of you that finally convinced me.”
“Why now?”
“Because enough time should have passed for you to thrive without me.”
“If that’s the case, you’ll have to keep waiting.”
You had him gagged, no clue how to respond. For some reason, he had refused to believe you were still hung up on him the way he was. There weren’t any reason for you to hold onto the idea of him — yet you had, for dear life.
Abruptly you stood up from your chair, hands running through your hair in frustration, trying to make sense of his sudden visit.
You stopped in your pacing, back faced him and hands on your hips — then he saw your shoulders begin to shake, followed by stifled sobs. These were the situations he always used to know what to do, moving on autopilot to bring you the comfort you needed.
Did his hands remember how to soothe you? Did his voice still know how to form the right words to say? Did his presence still know how to envelope you until you felt happy again? There was only one way to find out.
Quickly stepping over to you, his hands hovered over your shoulders for a second in fear. He swallowed his selfishness and let them land to settle the bouncing, leaning his head forward to rest it against the back of yours, the smell of your shampoo surrounding him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and it only seemed like his apology opened the valve, no longer able to choke your sobs. Your hands left your hips to cover your face, muffling the sadness tumbling out in one stream.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continued to mutter, head moving to press it to the side of your face. One hand traveled across your collarbone, the other around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible, determined to hold you there until he was absolutely certain you were okay.
He would stand there the whole night if he needed to.
Slowly but surely, your sobs came to a stop, your trembling eventually easing against his body. But he didn’t loosen his grip, not until he felt you shift in his arms to face him.
Cry painted cheeks, delicate red rim around your eyes, glossy irises that stared right into the deepest parts of him that only you had access to.
Everything started to fall back into place, his big hand cupping your cheek as he stroked your hair out of your face. He let his eyes dart delicately across your face, taking in every single detail.
Then he let his longing get the best of him, thumb graciously tracing your bottom lip turned swollen from when you tried to swallow your sobs.
There was slight hesitation while he leaned forward, never having experienced time moving as slow as you waited for his lips to connect with yours. First, he let his nose brush against yours, testing the waters.
Please.
You felt his breath.
Don’t make me wait any longer.
Sparks.
Soft lips pressed against yours, moving tenderly in unison that sent intense sparks through your body from head to toe. The moment easily surpassed any of the fantasies you’d had of kissing him.
Needy fingers traveled up his broad chest before hooking your arms around his neck, pulling him closer — it still didn’t feel close enough.
Kento poured everything he had always wanted to say into the kiss — and he knew you understood. If he had learned anything from everything you had been through together, it was he could always trust you were able to understand him completely, even without anything being said.
When you pulled away you found yourself breathless. Meeting his eyes again, unexpected shyness you weren’t used to experience with Kento had you hide your face in his chest.
The roles had reversed, his warm chuckle serving as a comforting blanket. Oh, how you had missed that melody.
“Took you long enough,” you mumbled, hoping the teasing would have your normal confidence return.
His finger found your chin to tilt your head up, capturing your gaze. “Yeah, I should have done it ages ago.”
The previous sadness still lingered, and it was evident you still had a lot to talk about. But right now it was nice to just wallow in his presence again. It was way overdue, feeling like it should have been like this since forever.
“I really am sorry.”
“I think I can find it in myself to forgive you.” Your innocent jab was received with a dashing smile, tingles spreading throughout your limbs at the sight.
“Hope so, sweetheart,” he breathed quietly before he leaned in again.
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They sat staring at each other, Kento with a raised eyebrow while a grumpy Gojo was positioned on the couch opposite him, legs and arms crossed in annoyance.
“You used to be nice.”
Kento scoffed at his colleague’s childish behaviour. “I still am, you’re just upset you’re not getting it your way.”
“But why?” Gojo cried dramatically.
“Why? What do you mean why? Because it’s not your wedding.”
“Were you always this boring?”
“Most definitely.”
“Will you guys please shut up?” You interrupted, unable to ignore them anymore. You had desperately tried to block them out as you were doing some paperwork you should have done ages ago.
“He started it!” Gojo pointed at Kento, which only had him roll his eyes.
“You know what,” you sighed as you gathered your stuff and raised from behind the desk. “It’s with a heavy heart I leave you, but I need to get this done by the end of the day.” You stopped behind Kento, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Sorry, honey,” he said genuinely as he gazed up at you lovingly.
“I am not asking for much-“ Gojo continued to argue before you interrupted him.
“Will you pay for it?”
“Is that all it’ll take?” He beamed, and you nodded. “Of course! Done! How much do you need?”
“You’re too lenient when it comes to him,” Kento sighed.
“It’s not the craziest thing he could request. He’ll get his endless supply of sweets, and you won’t have to listen to his obnoxious nagging anymore.”
“I’m sitting right here.” Both you and Kento ignored him.
“I really have to get this work done though,” you sighed, hand squeezing his shoulder.
“See you at home?” His loving smile had you lean down to press your lips tenderly against his.
“See you at home.”
“I’ll have dinner ready.”
“God, I love you.”
Then he flashed you that smile — the smile which was reserved solely as a response whenever you said those three words he used to dream of hearing from you.
It was funny really, how after everything things would turn out exactly how he as always wanted them to. Despite the hopelessness he had felt and all the pain you had endured — both together and apart — would eventually lead up to the happy ending he had dreamed of since the young age of five.
He knew he would do it all over again, in every universe, if it ensured this outcome.
“I love you too.”
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tags @sad-darksoul @toadtoru
an anon, i am so sorry if this ended up longer than you wanted it. idk what happened, bc it just kept on snowballing <3 however, i am very touched you wanted me to do this request. warms my heart. hope it turned out okay mwah also, if you've read my satoru childhood friends to lovers fic and see any similarities, no you don't comments and reblogs is much appreciated
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©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited
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hannieehaee · 8 months ago
Text
OUTTA MY MIND
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18+ / mdi
summary: getting a brand new job as a senior idol's manager was scary enough on its own, but it became even worse when said idol was jeon jungkook, idol of all idols. what made it even worse? when jungkook began taking a special liking to you, damning any conflict of interest his crush on you may have had.
content: idol!au, staff!reader x idol!jungkook, jungkook is shameless about his crush on reader, but it's fine bc reader likes him back!!, reader acts hard to get bc her job is too important though boo, afab reader, banter, jk is a flirt, reader is a little bit shy, a lot of rlly wrong info about working in the industry, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 7.7k
a/n: my first jungkook solo writing!! i hope u guys enjoy<33 ive been into bts since 2017 idk why i never wrote about them before lol anyways hope this is a good introduction to all my future jungkook works<3
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one time tip<3
Whenever you'd tell someone you worked within the entertainment industry, – the music industry, to be precise – people always showed a little extra interest in your words, probably assuming you to be involved in the flashier aspects of it. The statement on it's own sounded exciting, enigmatic even. This would only then be followed by disappointed upon finding out your specific profession of choice, deeming it less exciting than most.
You were a manager. No, you were not an active member of the entertainment industry itself, but you were one of the many pillars necessary for the talent to create the entertainment people would always seek.
Being as young as you were, it had been hard to get to where you were so quickly. Networking had been your best friend all throughout your career, eventually landing you in your current role – one that would only open even more doors for you.
It had only been a week since you had received a call from your friend – an old friend from an internship who just so happened to be a former Hybe video producer – letting you know of a recent opening as one of the many managers at the company. Having been between gigs at the time, you jumped at the chance without a second thought. Hybe? The biggest entertainment company in Korea? You didn't need any details before agreeing.
It was a few days later in which you found out the details. The opportunity had been even more life-altering than you'd thought.
Originally, you had believed you'd end up becoming manager to one of the many brand new rookie groups in the growing company. With so many surging youth in the industry, it made sense to you that you'd be assigned such a role, not having had any prior experience within Hybe itself.
Except that wasn't the case. Having previously worked and interned at a few other South Korean entertainment companies through the years, it seemed like Hybe deemed you experienced enough to assign you the role of becoming a senior artist's manager.
Jeon Jungkook.
Senior artist had been an understatement. Those had been the words written in your contract, explaining your role in excruciating detail, yet failing to mention that your client would be Korea's most popular singer.
You couldn't lie, you were insanely intimidated by your new role. Despite being proudly skilled at your job, becoming the manager of an idol who had been in the game for longer than you'd even been out of college was a bit scary. Jungkook had gone from the absolute bottom to the top, he had most likely lived through it all by now – what kind of expertise could you offer someone who had already seen it all?
Being manager of an idol differed slightly from managing any other person. Idol companies usually handled the schedulings, bookings, and the legalities of their artists. As a manager, you somewhat took the role of a bodyguard. You were meant to show up everywhere Jungkook went and become his spokesperson – vying for him as if your life depended on it.
And now it was too late to back out – not that you actually wanted to. All paperwork had been signed, you had your own personal Hybe badge and all the benefits that came along with working at the company. Any feelings of intimidation or fear for the role would have to be put aside as you walked into the Hybe building to meet with your new client; the boy you'd have to stick by 24/7 from now on.
You weren't sure what you were expecting upon meeting him. It wasn't like there would be any special introduction, or even as if you were his sole manager; no, he actually had a few others who would occasionally aid him in the absence of his main manager, which was now you. Today was a workday for him, meaning that he likely already had a few people in supportive roles as he did whatever it was that Jeon Jungkook did while working.
Walking into the huge building, after getting lost a few times, you made your way to the seventh floor, which, as you'd been informed, had various rooms designated for photoshoots. That's where you'd find Jungkook for the first time, presumably having one of the many shoots scheduled for this week.
Having possession of his schedule made you realize how busy idol life was. Despite having no public schedules all this week, he had a packed itinerary, filled with either shoots or signings or producing sessions. You hadn't even met him yet, but you were already assured that he was overly hardworking – and you had maybe also stalked him online this past week.
It was very unlikely you'd even speak to him, seeing how busy he was. Your duty, after all, was just to be one of the many members of his team, taking care of any logistics as you went around with him, but not taking away from his time by socializing with him.
Upon entering the room, he was the first thing you noticed. Ignoring every other person working the room, your eyes focused specifically on him. It was hard not to, since he was quite literally standing under the spotlight, modeling for a camera. But it was more than that. He had an aura that filled up the room. Putting aside every stylist and photographer in the room, every staff member and intern, he was truly the epitome of main character.
Fuck. Was this going to cause trouble?
Admittedly, you had found him attractive all previous times you'd come across the name Jeon Jungkook whilst working in this industry, but that attraction did not go further than seeing it as an objective fact. You had never had any interest in artists outside of for work-related reasons, so you only knew him by name. Yet now, seeing him in person, it was a while other story.
It wasn't until the director gave Jungkook the green light to take a break that you first made eye contact with the boy. It appeared as if he had also noticed you immediately upon your entrance, as his eyes had gone straight from the camera onto yours. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on your part.
To your absolute surprise, his eyes stayed on you, lighting up when he realized you were staring back at him. Even more surprisingly, that's when he began walking towards you, a bright smile on his face as he approached you.
"Hey! You must be Y/N! It's really nice to meet you," he bowed at you when he reached you, bunny teeth still sticking out in a smile.
"Oh, I- Thank you! It's nice to meet you too, Jungkook," you managed to get out, bowing awkwardly. You were surprised at him even knowing your name. Was he on a first name basis with his staff? That was crazy to imagine considering how many people he must work with on a daily basis.
"Today's your first day, right?"
"Yeah, hah, is it that obvious?", for some reason you were at a loss of words, not having expected to even speak to Jungkook at all today.
His eyes widened as his head shook in negation, almost as if he believed to have genuinely insulted you by assuming it was your first day.
"Not at all! I know it might look kind of hectic, but I swear you get used to it pretty quick," he assured, giving a quick once-over to his surroundings.
Your eyes left him in favor of eyeing the room, noticing how everyone continued to work on separate tasks as Jungkook spoke to you. Too many tasks were being performed all at once, yet there was some sort of synergy to it all. It seemed far too fast paced for you, but Jungkook seemed to get the rhythm of it all by now.
"Has anyone given you a tour yet?" he asked, making your eyes go back to him.
"Oh, no. But it's fine. I only got lost a few times on the way here. I'll get used to it," you reassured. You had been given an overall overview of the premises, but you were yet to explore the entirety of the place. It was likely unnecessary, considering the size of the building.
Jungkook's eyes widened once again. Jesus, his eyes were gigantic. He seemed shocked at no one having taken the time to show you around.
"What? No tour?? I can't have that. I'll have to take you in one after this."
"What- No! It's fine, Jungkook. I'm sure you have more pressing things to get to. I mean, I have your schedule, I know you have a packed day. I'll just-"
"None of that. I have more control over my schedule than it might seem," he chuckled, "so you don't have to worry about that. It'll be a nice way for us to get to know each other."
The following five minutes or so were taken up by your consistent, yet polite, refusal to his offer, not wanting the talent himself to feel like he had to work his schedule around you. These refusals were met by even more insistence. He was overly charismatic and likable (on top of extremely cute), so it was a lost battle from the start. There was no way you could deny him in the end.
His break ended soon after, forcing his conversation with you to be interrupted. With an exaggerated groan and a lighthearted eye roll, the boy went back to posing, sending you a friendly wink when he was finally back in action in front of the camera.
As a true professional, he got back in the zone very quickly, taking on the form of a model as he followed the director's directions to a T. You continued watching him from afar, easily getting entranced by how good he was at his job. Being too distracted by him (as he kept sneaking glances towards you), you almost forgot to make the rounds around the room and introduce yourself to his other staff.
After about twenty minutes or so of conversing with his other staff (who all had nothing but positive things to say about the boy), things began to quiet down. The director announced that he had everything he needed and things began to get packed up as people left one by one. As everyone left, Jungkook made sure to express his gratitude to each team involved, even personally bidding goodbye to some staff he seemed a bit more familiar with. By the end of it, only a few people were left as Jungkook finally approached you.
Once again, the boyish smile was on his face, almost as if he specifically excited to talk to you. But that was just wishful thinking.
"So, about that tour?"
"You really don't have to-"
"Are we really gonna go over this again?", he groaned humorously, "Please let me show you around. It's the least I can do if I'm gonna make you attend all my schedules," he insisted once more.
"Fine, okay. You wore me down, Jungkook."
With a kiddish yet sarcastic fist bump to the sky in victory, Jungkook gestured for you to follow him and began leading the way out of the room, ready to show you the building.
~
"So, how are you liking Hybe?", he asked after a while of walking around the endless building.
Jungkook was a great guide. He was extremely talkative, so no question was left unanswered. Even before you were able to inquire about certain part of the building, he was already giving you a response, even being able to start a brand new subject of conversation every time.
"Well, it's kinda my first day. But it's nice. Just, uh, maybe a little intimidating," you admitted, walking side by side with the boy.
"Intimidating? Is it cause of me?", he tilted his head to the side with curiosity.
"Maybe," you winced, hoping he didn't take it to heart. You knew it must've been annoying for people to put him in a pedestal, but it was kind of hard not to, especially upon barely meeting him.
"It's okay. I'm not as intimidating as my fame may make me seem. Most people think I'm pretty nice, actually-"
"No, it's not like that! I know you're nice, I, uh, I looked you up before accepting the job. It's just," you paused to gesture at your surroundings, "I've never worked at such a huge company, managing one of the biggest artists in the country. I ... I don't wanna mess it up," you admitted.
He slowed down his walking at this, turning to face you better as both your movements lessened in speed.
"You won't trust me. I, uh, I actually chose you specifically. You know, to be my manager."
That took you by surprise.
Jungkook knew who you were? He picked you? It's not like you had anything to your name, just a few managing gigs here and there, along with endless internships from your school years. Why would he have picked you from what you assumed must've been a pool of tenured professionals at this?
"What do you mean you picked me? Did you-"
He shrugged, the speed of his steps still slow as he focused more on conversing with you, tour of the company fully put aside.
"They asked me for my input, since, you know, we're gonna be spending a lot of time together. I saw you on the list. You were my age and your cover letter made you sound so sincere and excited," he explained, "You were also pretty cute ...", he muttered in a cough before continuing, "I just wanted someone I could be friends with. And I think I made the right choice."
You chuckled, "Yeah? How can you be so sure?"
"I can tell that you like me," he grinned, "We're gonna be besties in no time."
His hand bumped yours as he said this, lightheartedly making contact with you. It was hard to gauge whether he was just overly charismatic or if he had been genuinely hitting on you all this time. All you knew was that if he kept it up, you'd probably end up actually falling for him.
Humoring him, you absentmindedly bumped your hand into his own too, rolling your eyes jokingly as he grinned even bigger at you.
Yeah, you were going to get close in no tome.
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It had been two months. Two months since you started your job. Two months since you met Jungkook. Two months since you'd been right – you did fall for Jungkook.
It wasn't as dramatic as it sounded. You were pretty sure this was just an innocent crush. One that most people in Jungkook's vicinity probably had to battle on a day to day basis.
Innocent civilians could not be blamed for the natural effect Jeon Jungkook just had on people. He was handsome, funny, charming, and he was also a flirt. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like he reserved that last trait for you and you only.
Through the weeks, Jungkook was not shy to show his special interest in you. He'd seek you out constantly, always making you stick to his side – which was your job, but still! There was always a sense of something more behind his actions. As he had said, you two became friends quickly, but just as quickly, you had become one of the closest people to him within his staff.
He'd make conversation with you, constantly migrating to your side the moment he got a short break from whichever schedule you were currently at. He'd go as far as interrupting your work just for some of your attention. In short, he was driving you insane.
Walking far too close to you in the hallways, he'd question "Where to next?", with a smile, walking side by side with you while putting his entire attention on you.
And now, you were currently overseas with Jungkook, accompanying him for some solo recordings while the rest of his members worked on their own stuff. It was a small team of people, which was quite unusual for a member of the biggest group in the world. Since it was an unofficial schedule that only Jungkook would be attending to, only the closest members of his team were really necessary. This meant you and a few others.
The situation had started off pretty much okay. One of the requirements for your position had been to become a translator for Jungkook in any situation he ever needed. That had been unnecessary so far, as you had been in Jungkook's home country these past few weeks of work. Now that you were in America, however, Jungkook sought you out even more, claiming you must attend to every outing with him in order to help him in case he needed a better understanding.
You didn't know Jungkook too well yet, but, you were aware that after so many years in the industry, he knew enough English to get by. This was simply yet another excuse of his to keep you close. When you lightheartedly confronted him about this, his response was to stare down at you with his gigantic doe eyes and pretend as if he had no idea what you were talking about.
"English? What's that?" his head had tilted to the side, cutely feigning confusion and giggling when you broke out into an annoyed smile.
On top of joining him any time he went out for leisure (under the false vice of translating), he had also insisted you accompany him to the occasional dance practice he'd attend while in America. Your presence in this instance was completely unnecessary, but you still did not question it. Nor did you question why you were the only person he insisted on bringing along. His other managers? Nowhere to be found. As time passed by in Los Angeles, less and less people would accompany you and Jungkook on his outings – whether they be for leisure or work. It had now fallen down to Jungkook, his bodyguard, and you.
"C'mon, don't you want to see me dance? I'll buy you a meal afterwards, pinky promise," he'd hold his pinky up to you with a boyish smile, knowing you wouldn't deny him.
Anytime Jungkook would discreetly hit on you or fluster you with his attention, you'd simply laugh it off or play into it just the right amount. It wasn't like you didn't enjoy it. His decided infatuation with you gave you butterflies that had you kicking your blanket late at night when you'd think back to how much he must've liked you.
You were entirely aware that he knew you liked him back also. You never said it, nor did you ever return his flirting, but you knew that he knew. Any rebuttals or instances in which you told him to chill (jokingly, of course) were just covers you'd put up. The nerves about actually acknowledging his feelings always stopped you in your tracks, leaving you the lone option of just giggling along to him or rolling your eyes (depending how cheesy he was being).
Jungkook loved your back and forth, you could tell. He enjoyed when you'd jokingly tell him off for his sickly flirtatious demeanor or when you'd simply banter with him. It was likely just a motivator for him to keep going, naturally knocking down your walls one by one as time passed.
The camel's back had broken one week after your arrival in LA, when Jungkook finally decided to take things further, now inviting you over to his hotel room after what were assumed to be work hours. The excuse? He wanted to go over next week's schedule. Both you and him were fully aware he simply wanted to hang out, but the lines were beginning to blur.
"Hey," he welcomed you with a smile when you came knocking on his door, leaning against the frame before gesturing at you to come in.
"Hi, Kook," you walked in, unsure of what to do after making it past his door.
"You can take a seat while I get us some drinks," he gestured to the hotel room couch and walked over to the mini fridge in the living room.
"Drinks? Thought we were debriefing next week's schedule?", you asked with a teasing tone, reclining back into the couch.
"Oh, yeah, the schedule, for sure," he responded in a completely unserious manner.
Approaching you again with drinks in hand, he sat on the same couch as you, leaving a small distance between the two of you to create a more casual environment.
Handing you your drink, he chuckled before even being able to speak.
"Have I been obvious enough or should I try harder?", he asked, sipping his beer.
"Jungkook ..."
"C'mon, it's been a few months. You already know I like you, right? You have to know by now. Are you really not gonna reciprocate at all?", he pouted, "I know you like me back."
"What makes you so confident?"
"You haven't once told me to fuck off," he grinned, leaning back against the couch in complete relaxation.
"I can't do that, I work for you," you rebutted.
"Hah! Please, I know that wouldn't stop you. You might've been a little shy when we first met, but I know by now you would've told me to get fucked if you weren't interested."
He had a point. There had been a few instances in which you did, quite literally, tell him to get fucked. It was always in jest, of course, but you knew that if you ever turned down his flirting, he'd tone it down without question.
Of course you never wanted his flirting to stop. You had found a new source of energy within yourself any time Jungkook would shamelessly shower you with attention. Despite being discrete about it, never being direct with his flirting, he still gave you the same undivided attention any boy with a crush would. It made you feel giddy and wanted. Yet it also made you worry for what may come of acknowledging his interest further than you already had.
You laughed along with him and entertained his banter for a while, following along with his flirting as the two of you drank with one another, eventually arriving to a tipsy state. He drank like a sailor while you only nursed a few drinks, yet somehow reaching a similar level of drunk.
"Are you ever gonna answer my question? I already know the answer, I just want to hear it from you," his original question in regard to your feelings did not circle back until now, catching you off guard yet again.
"Jungkook ..."
He scoot closer to you, "Come on, it's just us. You know what they say – acceptance is the first step."
"If you already know I like you, why do you keep asking?", you groaned, taking yet another swing of your third drink of the night.
"Aha! You do like me," he pointed at you as if he had made the grand discovery.
"Jungkook!"
Raising his hands, he relented, "Sorry, sorry. I'm just excited to hear it. Can you blame me? I've been trying to get you to flirt back for months."
"I don't have the same liberties as you, I'm your subordinate, it'd be inappro-"
"Inappropriate? Not any more inappropriate than me hitting on you every day since we met."
"Inappropriate, exactly," you scoot further away, "which is why you should stop."
He scoot closer again, this time even more so.
"I like you, you like me. Why should either of us stop?"
"I work for you. Yeah, you can flirt with me, but-"
"But what? Come on, don't reject me before I've even asked you out. At least let me have that much," he insisted, knowing he was wearing your false rejection down.
You sighed, twisting your body so you'd now be facing him fully on the couch, "Okay, fine. Go ahead."
He twisted too, now fully facing you. He took a deep breath and put down his drink, "Let me take you on a date? Please?", he pleaded with a shy smile.
"Can I say no?"
"I mean, you can, but I'll just keep insisting," he giggled, making you groan exaggeratedly.
With a fake sigh of defeat, you accepted, "Fine. You can take me out. But if you're as annoying as you were today, then I don't think it's going to work out."
"Yah! I'll be the perfect gentleman. Just you wait."
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After a few more drinks, Jungkook insisted on walking you back to your room, – despite the fact that it was just next door – sheepishly asking if he could kiss your cheek goodnight, to which you responded with a kiss on his cheek of your own and a hug goodbye. Through your peephole you could see a very adorable Jungkook scrunch up his nose and smile to himself in contentment at the night's outcome.
Going to sleep with this insane sense of giddiness had been almost impossible. Your mind kept going back to the pretty boy who had insisted yet and yet again for the chance to simply go out with you. The back and forth this past few months had wore you down immensely, and last night had just thoroughly hammered you in.
You weren't entirely sure of the logistics of the date just yet. How were you to go out with Jungkook when he was so insanely popular? People were already aware of his current stay in Los Angeles, as he had been spotted a few times. They were also aware of your presence, though people already knew of your role and had grown accustomed to seeing you with Jungkook without questioning it.
Going to any usual dating spot with him alone would still prove catastrophic, however. Even if people knew you were nothing more than a manager, a one-on-one outing at a place usually meant for couples would be an instant giveaway, so it was entirely out of the question.
Surely the hopeless romantic that was Jungkook already had something planned, so you likely didn't have to worry your head over it. For now, you could simply wait for Jungkook's next unpredictable act of affection towards you with a racing heart.
~
The following day, you found yourself waking up earlier than usual, having been awoken by incessant knocking on your door that you had not expected. It was 9AM, so not too early, but today was meant to be a day off for everyone on Jungkook's team, including him. It was obvious to you who could be the culprit behind the knocking, but it didn't make it any less strange, especially considering Jungkook never had a tendency of waking up early unless it was for work.
Marching to your door in annoyance, you swung it open without any need to check who was on the other side, knowing you'd encounter the same doe-eyed boy you had kissed goodnight just a few hours ago.
"Jungkook, what the hell are you doing here so early?", were the first words out of your mouth.
He was already fully dressed, donning his usual black attire and carrying two drinks from what you knew was a local coffee shop – with one of them being your drink of choice, because of course Jungkook would have it memorized.
He grinned at you, placing your drink on your hand and smiling even harder when you sipped it.
"Just wanted to make sure you hadn't changed your mind about the date," he wasn't actually here for that reason, obviously, but it was still cute of him to use it as an excuse.
"And if I have?"
"Don't say that, I'll cry."
You laughed, leaning against your door as you sipped your drink once more, "So, have you decided what we're doing?"
He shook his head, "Nope, can't tell you. That's top secret. All you can know is that you should be ready tonight at 7 sharp and to wear something nice but comfortable," he blushed a little before continuing, "maybe that pretty sundress you wore the other day?", his eyes left you to shyly look at his shoes for a moment.
Fuck, he was far too cute.
You pretended to ponder for a bit before agreeing, "Okay. I think I can manage that."
Letting out a tiny little "yes!", he looked to you again, noticing your pajamas, "I'll let you sleep in since I kinda kept you up all night, but I'll be back, okay? You can keep your expectations as high as you want, I'll meet them all," he said confidently.
"Oh? Okay, let's see if you can swoon me then," you accepted the challenge before receiving a shy yet short hug goodbye and heading back into your room, aware you'd be unable to go back to sleep with all the anticipation you felt for your date.
Things had already changed drastically between you and Jungkook and it had only been a few hours since his official confession about his crush (along with your reciprocation). He was touchier and more open with his affections, even becoming a little sheepish now in contrast to how bold he used to be. Now that the cards were all on the table, it was harder to even look at each other without blushing. It felt like a giddy high school crush, and you were already enjoying it far too much.
~
"Fuck, you look gorgeous," Jungkook breathed out the second you opened your door, "Sorry, was that too much?," he chuckled sheepishly afterwards.
Ignoring the blush threatening your cheeks, you shook your head and smiled, "Thank you, Kook. You look ... you look really handsome," you went on a whim and placed your hands on his jacket, enjoying his own shy smile at your compliment.
You made small talk as you walked down to take Jungkook's private car, sitting side by side in the back as the driver took off.
"So, where are you taking me?", you asked again.
He tsk'd, "No patience in that head of yours, huh? Relax. It's private and comfortable. You'll have fun, I promise. Just let me surprise you."
"Fine," you sighed in feigned annoyance, leaning back into your seat. Jungkook followed and leaned back also, face turned to stare at you.
"Would it be too forward to say I already want to take you home?", he asked.
"Stop," you groaned, "Don't say that, you already wore me down into going on a date, give me time to breathe."
"Are you saying I could wear you down into letting me take you home?", he smiled.
"Anyways," you rolled your eyes, making him chuckle.
The rest of the ride was filled by your usual banter, making the date entirely too casual thus far. It felt like a regular outing with a friend, plus the added butterflies you felt any time his eyes would scrunch up whenever you made him laugh. How handsome he looked also did not help matters. He had changed out of the casual clothes he had on this morning, opting for a casual yet elegant look that consisted of his usual chunky boots and a black blazer. It was very much a usual look for him but he somehow looked extra good tonight.
Fastforward to the date itself and you found yourself in what was supposed to be a private restaurant A-listers in LA would frequent. It allowed for the utmost privacy and served the most famous of people. The atmosphere of the place was casual enough for you to be able to sit yourselves, but it was still packed with security and high-end waiters making the rounds. Being there as a mere manager felt almost illegal.
Jungkook held your hand as he guided you to a secluded booth in the back, opting to sit next to you rather than across you, something you found really cute of him.
"Do you like it?", he asked after a few moments of sitting.
You nodded, "Do I even wanna know how much this place costs?", you asked as you took in your surroundings.
"Yeah, no," he laughed, "Don't think about that. It's all on me. You being here is more than enough," he reassured, reaching over to take your menu before you could get to it, "I'll cover the prices, okay? I want you to order anything you want."
Cute, handsome, funny, into you, and also such a gentleman? You were not to survive even the first date.
"Order for me?", you suggested, knowing he was a foodie at heart and would likely order the perfect meal for you.
And he did. Unsurprisingly to everyone, he picked the perfect meal and side dishes and drinks and even desserts. The meal was amazing and completely relaxed. The conversation was never-ending, allowing for no awkward lulls or forced small talk. Jungkook had been right all those months ago, you did become very good friends. It made you wonder if he had liked you from all the way back then.
"What are you looking for in a relationship?", asked Jungkook after a few drinks, already cozied up with you in the booth.
"That's very forward for only two bottles of soju," you joked.
"C'mon, you can tell me. I won't tell," he whispered childishly, leaning closer to you with genuine interest in his eyes.
You straightened up before responding, "I guess I want something serious. No hookups or anything like that, just ... just someone nice to spend my time with."
"Hey, that's kind of what I am already, huh? I'm nice and we spend most of our time together."
You chuckled, taking a swing of your drink before returning the question, "What about you? What are you looking for in a relationship?"
"You," he deadpanned, giving you a dopey smile.
You couldn't help giggle at that, scrunching up your face at how much of a flirt he was.
He grabbed onto your chin and made you look at him, completely halting your laugher, "I'm serious," he started, "I've been wanting to ask you out since forever, but I knew I'd be putting you in an awkward position with your job. But I don't care about that anymore. I know you like me, and I like you – so fucking bad. Give it a chance? Please?", he pleaded as he stared down at you, eyes fleeting to your lips for one quick moment.
Your breath caught in your throat, making you freeze and gulp before being able to respond to the confession you'd been expecting, yet were not prepared for.
"Jungkook ... Take me home?"
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"F-fuck," he groaned, "do you know how long I waited to have you?", his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses in his wake, "thought about this every day ... How pretty you'd look pressed up against me ... So fucking pretty," he panted.
Jungkook had dragged you off the booth the moment you suggested for a change of scenery, directing the driver to get the two of you to the hotel as soon as possible. Once at the hotel, Jungkook rushed you to your floor, having already had to hold back during the entirety of the drive back. Even in the elevator, your usually lighthearted Jungkook was missing and replaced by an agitated version of him.
The first thing he did upon unlocking the door to his room as push you against it, closing it back up in the process and liberally letting his lips trail down your neck.
"Kook ..."
"Have I ever told you how much I love the way you say my name? God, just everything about you," he trailed his way back up, hands still on your waist and fingers digging into your skin.
His lips leaned down into yours, almost kissing you but not yet, "I know it's kinda late to ask, but can I kiss you?", he whispered.
Your nod was nothing short of desperate, lips almost chasing his won before he finally connected them to yours.
His kiss was as soft as his hold on your waist, and the sigh he let out against your lips was only a ghost of the passion he felt for you. His lips guided your own, with his tongue licking your mouth open and invading it in a sensual entanglement between your tongues.
It was hard to think clearly with the pretty moans he let out against your lips, almost as if you were gifting him the utmost pleasure with the mere touch of your lips. Hands became braver and breaths became heavier, leading to a mess of ruffling clothes and gasps filling up the silence of the room. You melded into each other, refusing to let your lips separate nor prevent your hands from exploring one another. His hands made it under the skirt of your dress, liberal in the way he felt up your add and pressed you up against him. In the meantime your hands threw off his blazer and began unbuttoning his shirt, feeling up his strong chest in the process.
"Let me take you to my room? Fuck, I- I can't think. Just wanna have you so fucking bad," he mumbled into your lips, groaning when you refused to stop kissing him as he spoke.
You nodded, not trusting your voice and allowing him to guide you to his room by the hand.
Once in his room, he laid you down softly, letting you sit up as he took off his remaining clothes, eyes encouraging you to do the same. His eyes widened when he realized what you'd been wearing under the dress he'd requested, clearly caught off guard by the pretty set you had chosen for him.
It wasn't all that, simply a matching lacy bra and panties that you'd packed before coming to LA. Clearly Jungkook didn't care about the quality of the set, or at least that's the impression his eyes gave you as they stayed glued to your chest, halting his movements as he took his shoes off.
"Oh ...", he breathed before making his way to you on the bed, "For me?", he asked as his hand went down to lightly run his fingers across the strap.
"Mhm," you nodded, getting up from the bed and putting your hand on his shoulders, eyeing up his toned chest and tracing his tattoos, "Do you like it?", you looked up and made eyes at him.
"Fuck, don't do that. You can't look like that and then look at me like that and think I won't fucking burst," he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist once again, "Can I touch you, pretty? Hmm?"
Nodding again, you led his hands to your breasts, letting out a breath when his hands began feeling you up, going from your breasts to your hips to your ass while his mouth made its way back to yours. He freely moaned into your mouth at the feeling of your body under his hands, walking you back onto the bed and lying you down once more.
His hands were hesitant in reaching the clasp of your bra, to which you responded by humming a soft 'please' into his lips. The removal of your bra caused him to pull away for you as his eyes got a fill of you, groaning yet again at the sight. His hands went to your breasts again, feeling them up as his lips trailed down to your tits. Jungkook's groans of pleasure at the feeling of your bare skin against his lips were never-ending. You fed into it, arching against his lips and running your hands through his hair. It wasn't like he needed any encouragement; his eyes told you of every bit of lust he felt.
"I want you so fucking bad," he murmured against your tits, "I can't even think ... Just want you so bad. Haven't been able to stop thinking about you for months," his lips suckled at your nipple once more before reaching your ear, breathing heavily against it, "Tell me I can fuck you, please. Just need- need you so fucking bad."
Pulling him to your lips by the his hair, you moaned your desire for him into his mouth, pleading at him to get on with it.
"Fuck me. How do you want me? I'll- Fuck, just-"
"I know, pretty. I'll take care of it, okay? Just ... Want you just like this. Wanna see you while I fuck you, okay? Let me-", his hands reached to your panties, seemingly meaning to finger you before you stopped him.
"No, Jungkook, just fuck me. Please? I'm wet enough, I swear. Just need you. Now," you pleaded at him.
He shook his head, tutting at you, "Baby, at least let me eat you out? Gotta stretch you out a little. Swear I wanna fuck you so fucking bad, but shit ... Need to taste you," he rambled before getting on his knees, pulling your legs apart and towards the edge of the bed.
"Fuck ... Always wanted to kiss up these thighs," he breathed as he ran his nose up and down the sensitive skin, leaving a few airy kisses along the length of them, "So soft and pretty."
Slowly yet sensually, he made his way to your cunt, pressing his nose against your panty-covered pussy and taking a deep breath, shamelessly capturing your essence. Ignoring your scandalous whine, he pushed your panties aside and stuck his tongue inside, groaning at the taste of you.
"Baby ... Fuck, how am I ever gonna function without this pretty pussy ever again?", he murmured into you, tongue digging deep inside you as he took turns sucking and licking at you. His nose made an appearance eventually, rubbing deliciously against your clit while your hands pulled at his hair, pushing your hips up against his face.
"Yes, fuck, keep grinding on my face, baby. Use me," he pleaded, almost crying into your cunt.
Jungkook was already an expert in your pleasure, damning everything else in favor of optimizing your pleasure in every way. He let you pull at his hair and grind on his face, somehow never running out of breath as he ate you out with a desperation that had your nails digging far too harshly into his hair – something that had him moaning against you.
Once finished, he licked up every drop of your essence, humming in pleasure at the taste and even coming up to let you suck on his tongue, sharing your own honey with you.
"Kook ... Fuck me. God, I need- need you so bad. Please," you pleaded into his mouth despite not pulling away from his kiss.
"Fuck, okay, yeah. I- I'll fuck you," he finally pulled away and pulled down his boxers, reaching over to his pants on the floor to get a condom from his wallet.
"Oh? You were ready for this?" you grinned at him mockingly.
"Baby," he whined, letting his head fall to your chest in bashfulness, "Don't do this right now. Just let me make you feel good. You can make fun of me all you want after."
"Okay, Kookie. Now, hurry up!", you reached down to his ass, squeezing it jokingly as he let out a scandalized noise and lightly nibbled at your tit in retaliation.
Finally, he put on the condom as you slipped off your panties all the way and throwing them off. He was soft yet shy in his movements as he teased your slit with his cock, playing with the wetness and groaning at the warmth wrapping around the head of his cock. He checked in on you constantly throughout, kissing at your cheek every so often as he bottomed out.
"Feels so good, pretty. Fuck ... gorgeous girl. Knew you were made for me," he groaned, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you closer as he began to thrust.
His words of encouragement didn't end there, letting out every emotion he felt towards you all while you whined his name and raked your nails down his back.
"Always wanted you ... You have no idea how much I like you,"
"Sweetest girl, and all for me ... Oh, fuck- feel so good wrapped around me,"
"You take it so good ... Feel so fucking good and look so fucking pretty. How could I ever resist you?"
"Need you so bad, fuck. Need you every day,"
His praise was never ending, rendering you a mess both physically and emotionally as your feelings for him burst in the form of cries of his name and mumbled reciprocations of his feelings.
"I need you to cum with me, gorgeous. Okay? Let me just- Yeah, right there, huh? That's the spot?", he murmured almost to himself as he lifted you by the legs and began hammering his hips against that one spot deep inside you that had your eyes rolling back. One of his hands eventually joined the mix, thumbing at your clit slowly yet harshly enough to make you gasp at the intensity of the sensation.
"Gonna cum, Kook. Cum with me? P-please?," you cried out for him.
"I'm right there, baby. Just cum with me. Like you so fucking much," he couldn't help but let out yet another expression of his feelings as his orgasm took over him, taking you right along with him.
"Like you t-too. S-so much!", you cried before practically blacking out.
Hips continued to grind against each other as your highs hit you, creating a symphony of skin slapping desperately and high-pitched whines coming from the two of you.
Jungkook almost fell limp against you when his high finally wore down, breathing heavily into your chest before rolling to your side, holding your trembling form against him.
"Was that a good first date?", he asked after catching his breath.
You laughed at the complete change of subject, "Maybe. I'm still expecting you to outdo it for the second one," you turned your body to his own, nuzzling against his chest.
You could feel the vibration of his chest as he chuckled a response, "Oh? I earned a second one?"
"Shut up before I change my mind."
"Yes, ma'am."
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content:  afab reader, smut,  semi-public sex, reunion sex, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 597 (teaser); 1877 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"Kook! Stop being so touchy!," you whined when you finally found yourself alone with him.
He ignored you at first, opting to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle his head into your hair with a satisfied hum.
"But why, baby?", he huffed.
He thought he was so cute when he played dumb.
"No one in the staff can know we're dating. It's like you want me to lose my job," you groaned, reciprocating his gesture against your better judgment.
"Baby, I'm your boss, and I have no plans of firing you, so what's the problem?", he ran his nose up and down your neck, breathing you in softly.
"Still. Sleeping with my boss just gives off a bad image."
"Everyone already knows I have a crush on you anyway, what's the harm?", he whined.
"Kookie ...", you groaned.
"Hmm, love when you call me that, baby," he giggled against you, waddling from one side to the other as he walked you over to the wall, pressing you up against it in a surprisingly innocent manner.
After yet another 'subtle' public display of affection he had decided to engage in whilst recording for a new brand deal, you had dragged Jungkook over to an empty dressing room during a break, deciding to put a stop to his behavior before it went too far.
You had only been dating for a few months by now, becoming exclusive almost immediately after that first date. However, despite the exclusivity and the age of your relationship, you had demanded that Jungkook keep it under wraps when it came to work. The only people aware of your relationship could be counted on one hand (maybe two), including his members, family, a few close friends and your own loved ones. Other than that, not even the company was privy to your new relationship.
Unfortunately for you, it seemed like your boyfriend was on a mission to let everyone know about your relationship, always sending you suggestive looks or sticking to you in a manner usually reserved for couples.
Most people in Jungkook's team already knew of his touchy demeanor (and of his very obvious flirtatious tendencies when it came to you), but you knew that you'd be in trouble if you ever reciprocated. Having such a cute boy blatantly show interest in you proved hard, as you had to control yourself in front of everyone else any time he decided to cause trouble for you.
"C'mon, baby. We're alone now. There's no one to see what I wanna do to you," he smirked into your neck, beginning to trail kisses along its length.
His grabby hands stayed on your hips, occasionally sliding up your waist and under your shirt to feel the warmth of your back. Not-so-innocent touches were beginning to arise, making you conflicted since you were technically still in your company's premises at the moment.
Pressing your hands into his chest, you made a lame and effortless attempt at pushing him away, your heart not truly in it as you allowed him to keep his hands on you, "Kook, we're still at work!"
"We're practically done! I did my part, it's just the guys who need to get their shoots done. I could literally disappear right now and no one would notice. It's okay, baby," he reassured, wrapping your hands around his waist and pulling you even closer, lips beginning to ghost your own.
"Kook ..."
"Shhh, just let me kiss you. Been holding back on kissing you all day," and those were his last words before occupying his lips with your own.
...
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