summary: You try to send Jihoon off to work with a parting gift that he doesn't like--or so he claims.
word count: 959
SVT Shorts Series | Masterlist
You stir as Jihoon’s warm body shifts out of your grasp, leaving cool air behind. He takes a moment to stretch; you take a moment to admire his naked torso, blinking sleep out of your eyes. He looks so good with his lithe form backlit by the early morning sun.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he says, voice still low.
“Mm…like what?”
“Like you want to bite me.”
Giggling, you snuggle deeper into the pillows. You already did that last night; left a beautiful mark behind, too. He’ll find it soon. You’re looking forward to it.
Yawning, Jihoon heads into the bathroom. Wait for it…
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
You stifle another giggle, tugging at the thin straps of your camisole, which have slipped down in the night. You like to sleep with bare arms, mostly so you can enjoy the feel of his skin against yours. It’s grounding.
Jihoon’s angry face appears in the doorway. “What did you do?”
“Don’t know what you mean.”
“This!” Pointing at the huge red mark high on his neck, he hisses, “You know, just the giant hickey you left on me!”
Rolling over onto your stomach, you grin. “I did a good job, huh?”
“I can’t go to work like this!”
He absolutely can and that’s the point. You’re sick to death of the Head of Information Security thinking that just because she has a fancy title, she can keep trying to ask your fiance out to dinner. She’s tried making it a date, a team-building exercise, a reward for his hard work. Jihoon is running out of ways to politely refuse her.
So you thought of a more straightforward one.
Striding over to the closet, Jihoon pulls on his work clothes, feeling along his shirt collar. His nerdy little polo falls just underneath the edge of your mark, almost an underline to your explosive statement.
“I think you look sexy.”
“I’m not supposed to look sexy at work.” He tugs his shirt collar up a little more, trying and failing to cover the mark.
“I don’t know,” you tease, kicking your feet back and forth. “I kind of like the idea of the hot IT nerd coming over to help fix my computer problem.”
Jihoon responds with an exhausted glare. “We are not doing roleplay. This is a serious issue.”
Sighing, you push yourself off the bed and head to the bathroom. Rummaging through your makeup bag, you pluck out a tube of concealer. “Come here.”
“Now what are you going to do to me?”
“Hide all my hard work,” you say, showing him the tube. “It’s supposed to match your skin tone when it goes on, though I don’t think it does transparent.”
“Hurry up,” he urges, tugging his collar down for you.
It’s tempting to lean forward and give him another one. Instead, you go about covering it up the best you can. When you’re done, the hickey is practically invisible. His skin looks a bit strange if you stare at it too long, but there’s not much else you can do with so little time.
Jihoon turns to study his neck in the mirror, then nods. “Good enough.”
“So glad you approve,” you retort.
Not bothering to clean up your makeup, you wander out into the living room where your desk is set up facing the window. Dropping down into your chair, you yank your laptop open and type in your password.
Jihoon hovers behind you. “Baby.”
“Bye, go to work.”
“Don’t be like this, please.”
“I’m busy. Working.”
You open your email to make a point, clicking through each one without reading it. Jihoon sighs.
Placing a kiss on your bare shoulder, he finishes getting ready and heads out the door. You continue staring at your computer screen until you hear the door close and lock. Then you slump in your chair.
Whatever. He’s right, he’s the Security Operations Center Lead. He can’t show up to work looking ravished.
It still drives you crazy that his boss gets to spend all day flirting with him while you have to sit here and deal with it. And it’s not that you don’t trust Jihoon, because you absolutely do. His boss doesn’t stand a chance against you.
You just can’t help your desire to make it really, really obvious that he’s yours.
Resolving to be more mature about the situation when he gets home, you head to the bathroom to get ready for the day. It’s only after you’ve dressed, brushed your teeth, and started on your hair that you hear the front door close.
Jihoon should be at work right now. Unless…
Sure enough, he’s standing in the entryway, hurriedly toeing off his shoes.
“Jihoon? Did something happen?”
Your eyes drop to his collar where the edge has been rubbing against his neck. The fabric is stained with concealer and you can see the very bottom of the hickey. Your heart rate jumps.
“You didn’t get in trouble, did you?”
“No. I took a sick day.”
“But–”
“I kept thinking about the mark you left and, well…”
You follow his gaze down to the very obvious bulge in the front of his work slacks.
“Ended up with a bigger problem.”
The grin that splits your face is indecent. “You made such a fuss about it and it secretly made you horny.”
“Not a secret,” he grumbles. “Get over here.”
But you dance just out of his grip. “I think you owe me an apology.”
Jihoon’s eyes flash; his hand darts out, catching you around the waist. With one smooth movement, he pulls you flush against his body. “I think,” he says dangerously, “that I owe you something else. Something to match.”
WHEN YOU START DATING A FANTASTIC AUDHD GUY WHOSE AUTISM WORKS LIKE YOURS AND YOU LOVE ALL THE SAME THINGS AND HAVE ALL THE SAME LIFE GOALS BUT HIS FUCKING PARENTS START DIVORCING IN A MESSY WAY SO HE NEEDS TIME TO HIMSELF AND YOU START MISSING A MAN YOU'VE KNOWN FOR ALL OF THREE WEEKS
the way he went on to piss me tf off + mocked my love of tennis + i noticed he neverrrr talked abt politics + now i fucking hate men and have entirely built up a case against marriage which was always something i wanted deeply. lmao what one (1) year does to a woman,,,
this is an excerpt from a fic i wrote and never finished four years ago titled 20th century boy :3 just felt like posting but probs gonna delete evench (my new abbreviation for eventually)
sorry no fancy pic dividers but here’s this 240 pixel bowl of google image spaghetti!! enjoy, or don’t
You should’ve never trusted Jennie to pick out your outfit. She told you, word for word, “As someone who dated a diver in high school, wear a sweatshirt so you don’t get wet”. You think back on her “I’m totally right” facial expression and shake your head as you realise that advice was nothing but a lie. The slap of heat that hits you as soon as you walk in the aquatic center is nothing short of hell. You decided to wear Jihoon’s sweatshirt to give back to him despite his insistence, since it’s Thursday and you won’t see him until next week. It wasn’t washed, but the decision to wear it was also a mistake and another “advice” by Jennie. “He’s gonna fall in love with you if he hasn’t already. He’ll get one look at you and be like ‘Oh my god she’s the love of my life’ and then you get married and look back on that moment when your kids ask how mommy and daddy met. You’re welcome.”
Now, in retrospect, you don’t think you’ve ever heard a worse piece of advice in your life. This sweatshirt has been sitting in a pile of dirt for almost three months and no amount of perfume or stain remover laundry pens could change that. In fact, as you find your place in the stands only subtly looking for Jihoon, you realise the stank of this sweatshirt even more. You can’t really smell it, but just wearing it makes you feel icky. The only reason you’re giving it back to him is so when he rejects you, he doesn’t have to awkwardly ask for it back so you don’t curl up to it every night and dream of him like he’ll probably think you’ve been doing once he finds out you’re in love with him. Oh god. It’s giving you a headache just thinking about it.
More of the swimmers file out of the locker room closer to 6:00, when the meet is officially supposed to start, but you still can’t find Jihoon. It’s embarrassing to admit you’ve been looking for him for the last fifteen minutes.
Someone calling you by your full name cuts your continuous search party short. You look over your shoulder and see a giant group of guys. It’s Jihoon’s frat. You vaguely recognise some of them from the group picture hanging in the living room at the house, but others you haven’t seen a day in your life lead you to assume they’re new pledges.
The one who called your name makes his way over to you. “Hi Mingyu.” You say blandly. He takes offense and makes a dramatic look of shock. “That’s how you treat a friend?”
“No offense, but you’re the last person who should be talking about how to treat a friend.” You’re referring to the party and him leaving Chan stranded by lying to him and talking behind his back. You probably won’t ever be over how he spoke about your best friend in his absence. “Okay, I promise you we’re actually friends now. He’s pretty cool, I was just being a dick for fun,” You don’t really buy it. “And I bought a ping pong table.” Hearing that causes you to smile a little bit, but he won’t be off the hook for a while. “What are you doing here anyways?”
“Jihoon invited me.”
“He did? Cool.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well we always try to come to his meets for support, he only does well when we’re here”
“I don’t believe that”
“Yeah well just watch, oh look he’s waving at us”
When Jihoon sees you, he’s shocked beyond belief and even thinks his eyes may be deceiving him. But no, you’re here in the flesh, wearing his sweatshirt no less. He’s glad you’re here but didn’t really expect you to come. Not for any particular reason, but maybe you’d forgotten and thought he was weird for inviting you. Once he sees you, he smiles and waves at you and only you. You do the same to him. “Where’s Chaerin?”
You ask to try to calm your heart down a bit. “Robotics club. She said she would stop by here a little later, but she’s a big nerd so she’ll probably stay there until 9-ish.” You nod and turn your attention back to Jihoon, who was shaking his feet seemingly out of nervousness. He’s in four events today, and you don’t speak swim, but it sounds like a lot.
Mingyu reads your mind and hands you a program that you somehow missed on the way in. “He’s doing a 400 today, gotta be long.” You open the program and start to look for Jihoon’s name to see what Mingyu’s referring to.
Then, it’s right there under Men’s 400 Meter Freestyle. You’re not the best at measurements, but considering there isn’t a number higher than 400 in the list, you assume it’s a long distance. His name is also under three other categories: 50 meter freestyle, 100 meter butterfly, and 200 meter individual medley.
Mingyu asks for the program back and you relinquish it to him. “Oh my god, he’s gonna die.” He says suddenly. “Why?” You ask.
“400 meters is, like, 8 laps.” Glancing at the pool in front of you, it’s increasingly obvious that it’s far from small. In fact, it’s probably bigger than what you’d have imagined before getting here. For a brief second, you worry for Jihoon. You know he’ll be fine because he practices a lot, but you can’t help but be concerned. He just has that effect on you.
“Trouble in paradise?” A familiar yet vague voice says to you. It’s Calc 2 boy–Seungcheol. You’ve avoided him thus far because it still comes as a shock that he would lie about something so feeble, but the sweatshirt in itself was sort of a gift in disguise. “What?” You reply. He’s still cute even in regular lighting, but there will never be another time between you two like that night at the party. That you know for sure.
“You look forlorn. Still cute, though. You okay?” You hear Mingyu kiss his teeth from the left of you. Me too, Mingyu.
You badly want to roll your eyes, but foolishly assume Seungcheol has good intentions. “Yeah, I’m fine. What about you? What have you been up to besides giving other people’s stuff away?” He looks confused at first, until you point to the sweatshirt you’re wearing. He finally gets it. “Okay, look. I borrowed it once and since I have a personal attachment to my own clothes, I just gave his away because I wouldn’t miss it.” The explanation is subpar at best. If Jennie had done that to you and made no efforts to get the item back, you don’t know if you would’ve forgiven her as quick as Jihoon seemingly has. “Maybe don’t do that next time?” You suggest obviously. Seungcheol starts to defend himself, but someone gets over the speaker and announces the start of the meet.
You subtly move away from him and closer to Mingyu since he’s the more tolerable of the two and you don’t know anyone else.
Jihoon’s first event isn’t for a while, so you chat a bit with Mingyu while the other swimmers compete. He’s an interesting guy, and unintentionally funny so you decide he’s not as bad as you thought. Hopefully he was telling the truth about his friendship with Chan.
Another fifteen minutes go by and they announce events 5 and 6, the 200 meter individual medley, Jihoon’s first one of the night. The women go first and you watch closely to get an idea of what Jihoon will have to do. It looks extremely difficult. It’s also incredibly impressive that swimmers are able to move their body like that in the first place. You really hope he’ll do well.
The women finish up and the men take their places. You get your cell phone out and prepare to film. You don’t know why, but you just feel like you should. “Are you ready?” Mingyu shouts at you. His friends are to the other side of him planning on what to yell at Jihoon as encouragement. It’s not in your plan to participate, but you eavesdrop a little on their conversation. “Let’s get it!” You playfully respond. Jihoon looks at you and you feel like you can’t breathe.
The swimmers take their places and in a second, the start sound rings out and they’re off. You start the recording late but do your best to get a good angle. He’s so fast, it’s insane. You don’t worry anymore. It’s hard to when Mingyu and company are probably the loudest people here. While everyone else is clapping, they’re yelling and screaming. You participate a little bit, but soon it dies down as the laps stretch on. God, this is so long, you think.
You don’t know how Jihoon does it. By the time he’s made it up and back for the second time, you’re tired of recording and almost stop until the cheers from all of Jihoon’s friends start up again.
This time, you join in to try to boost morale not only for yourself but for Jihoon’s who’s been leading the entire time. He really is amazing.
The last lap proves to be the most difficult. The person behind Jihoon catches up really fast and they’re neck and neck. Suddenly, you cheer louder for him than ever. They reach the halfway mark and flip to start the swim to the finish line.
You feel like you’re yelling louder than even Mingyu, but you really want him to win.
And he does. By a mere 0.4 seconds, he narrowly manages to snag first place. You’re so proud of him. Even if it was close, he still made it out on top and that’s all that matters. But when he steps out of the pool, he looks everything but happy. In fact, he looks a bit defeated. “Jihoon! Good job!” You shout at him. He looks up at you and offers the smallest smile, but your encouragement means more to him than he ever showed.
Jihoon gets his ass kicked in the 50 meter freestyle, which comes directly after his first event, but Mingyu tells you he probably did that intentionally to save his energy for the 400 later and you just take that at face value. His coach doesn’t look upset, she looks oddly relieved, so you aren’t upset for him.
Your university swim team is smaller than the competitor’s, so you assume that’s why Jihoon’s in so many events. You don’t think he’d have volunteered to swim so much if asked.
His next event is the 100 meter butterfly and you think you’ve seen a YouTube video or two about it. It’ll be easy for him. He did the freestyle with no problem and you thought that would be the one to trip him up. Mingyu leans into your ear and slightly whispers, “He’ll probably throw this one too.” You turn to him and ask him to explain. “Think about it, this is event 12 and he won’t have to swim again until the last one, 24. If he does good, the other team’s gonna think he’s a threat and try to change their strategy.” You try to follow along as close as you can. “Well, if he throws, they’ll count him out and focus on someone else to beat. They’ll never see him coming.” What Mingyu says does make sense, but you still think Jihoon has the capability to win both times, and you hope he does. He’d know better than you what to do, so you’ll support him either way.
The butterfly starts off and Jihoon immediately takes his place in dead last, sixth place. You assume he’s doing what Mingyu theorised, but on the way back of the first (and last) lap, he picks up speed and makes it to third place halfway to the end. You cheer and cheer and cheer and he ends up in second, which is better than you expected. If he really wanted to, he could’ve made it to first, but he is stellar to you.
Mingyu invites you to go down to see Jihoon for a bit until his last swim. Unfortunately, there’s no time for you to ask if it’s allowed since every one of his friends has already filed out of the bleachers. You’re a bit nervous to speak to Jihoon, but you know you want to congratulate him on doing so well thus far (and we do not talk about the 50 meter freestyle). The only worry that you really have is the fact that you’re wearing his sweatshirt. It’s probably coated in your sweat and that’s disgusting and disrespectful to give back to him, especially like this.
As a quick and last minute decision, on the way down the stairs, you rip the sweatshirt off and neatly fold it. You were only wearing a tank top under it so you hope no one pays any attention to you. It’s almost like being naked, and you might as well have been at this point.
The pool area is crowded as another event begins, and you intentionally hide behind the brigade of boys to draw less attention to yourself. You may also be hiding from Jihoon.
The group stops and you assume they’ve reached the man of the hour, but you stay put even as they rowdily congratulate him. You’re so lucky they’re about ten deep, otherwise you wouldn’t have a choice but to talk to him.
Pretty soon, Mingyu loudly asks where you are and you’re put on the spot. Everyone moves out of the way and you see Swimmer Jihoon for the first time up close. “Hi.” You smile at him and he grins back at you.
“Congratulations Jihoon. You’re spectacular, really.” You were only barely aware that the conversation wasn’t just between you two and that there were twenty other eyes on you at the same time. However, something about the way you stared at each other felt so intimate. Even if it’s one sided and your brain is causing you to think like a lunatic, you still will pretend to live out your fantasies until you’re unable to.
Jihoon looks down at your arm, seeing the sweatshirt tucked under it. “Oh, um, I came to give it back to you. I know you told me I could keep it, but it’s yours.” You obviously know he can’t take it now since he’s in the middle of a swim meet, but you weren’t exactly planning on talking to him until the end anyways. “We’re gonna go get some snacks, you guys want anything?” Mingyu awkwardly interjects, giving you this unnatural look. From the time that you’ve been acquainted with this typical tall frat boy, you’ve caught on to his mannerisms. For instance, this is his way of signalling that he’s leaving you alone with Jihoon because he senses some weird vibes going on. He’s not wrong, but you still can’t believe him.
Accepting your fate, you both say no and all ten-ish boys leave. Now it’s just you and him. You break the ice and say, “Can’t believe you didn’t invite me to one of these things sooner.” He laughs at you and pushes his hair back so the water doesn’t drip on his face. He looks so hot doing that and you can’t help the thoughts that plague your mind.
“Well, first of all, you probably would’ve thought I was weird to do that when we haven’t been in a good place for the past three months.” He has a point there, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. “I probably would’ve forgiven you a lot sooner if you said ‘Hey come to my swim meet’ instead of listing off everything you’ve done wrong and begged for forgiveness.” He pushes his hair back again, and as much as you love seeing him do it, you grab a towel from the rack behind you and hand it to him. “Thank you. And I did not beg for forgiveness. You loved my apology.” He affirms. Can you believe this comedian? “Oh so I loved it? You bribed me with a festive cookie, Jihoon. I’d be dumb not to accept it.”
You talk like old friends, eventually relocating to a bench on the side so you’re not in the way of anyone else. Conversation flows so naturally with Jihoon. The nerves that you once felt fizzled away so fast from the minute he greeted you. He’s so easy to talk to and ironically, that’s what makes it so hard for you to confess. You want to tell him that over the time you weren’t on speaking terms with him, you only realised how much you actually like him, but you’re afraid he realised the opposite.
In the middle of the conversation, he suddenly invites you out later. “Do you wanna, maybe, grab dinner after this? It’s fine if you’re busy or something but–“
“No, no, I’m not busy at all. I would love to.”
Earth to 10th Grade You, College You is going on a date to dinner with Jihoon.
——
Jihoon completely crushes the 400 meter that you were worried for and ends up with his second first place of the night. He’s so happy and he actually smiles when he finishes. The entire crowd cheers for him, but you’re still the loudest (and the proudest). Mingyu talks your ear off on the way out of the aquatic centre. The lobby is crowded and you suggest a different place to meet up with him and almost say to text him where to go, but stop yourself when you remember he doesn’t have a cell phone. Everything’s more complicated with Jihoon.
You all end up just waiting in the lobby with everyone else, slowly getting more claustrophobic as time goes on. Soon enough, though, Jihoon joins your group in a matching sweatsuit that just screams “I’m a competitive swimmer”. He falls into step next to you (and you assume it was on purpose because you’re an absolute nut) and everyone heads out of the doors into the night air. You remember it’s winter and quickly slip the funky sweatshirt back on due to the limited options you had. The frat guys, including Jihoon, talk very animatedly amongst themselves all the way to the parking lot where they agree to reconvene at home to celebrate. Only, you and Jihoon won’t be there because you’re having dinner(!!!)
He’s the one to break the news to the rest of them and one guy offers to at least drive you guys to the restaurant. You both decline at the exact same time and Jihoon promises to celebrate with them later. Pretty much all of them get a similar look on their face and eye him very closely as he leaves his bag in the trunk so he won’t have to carry it around.
You say your goodbyes and quickly text Jennie to let her know what’s going on. Then you guys head the other direction. Believe it or not, the campus is still unfamiliar to you even when you’ve been here for the past four months. This means Jihoon is leading the way to wherever, and you’ll trust he’s not taking you to a dark alley to chop you up like fresh fruit.
Talking is simple, but you both opt not to since it’s so cold outside.
The restaurant he takes you to is this dimly lit soup place that is perfect to you especially considering the weather. You find a place in the back, away from anyone else. It wasn’t on purpose, but it felt right. He tells you to order anything you want, and you quickly argue that you’ll be paying since he did so well at the meet. That conversation is quickly dropped once you get menus and start finding what you want.
“Have you been here before?” You ask him. He shakes his head. “This is gonna sound lame, but I’ve been wanting to ask you to dinner for a while, just couldn’t find the right time. I looked up places close by and found this. So I really hope it’s good.”
Okay, there’s no way you’re delusional about this. He literally just admitted he’s been wanting to ask you out–to dinner, but for the sake of your own sanity, you’re omitting the nuances–and he even found a restaurant (of which he’s never been) to bring you to, so what does this even mean?
I am a grown ass adult and I still get nausea when I feel like I'm in trouble. They're gonna send me to the principals office and take away my toys for a week. Can you just fucking kill me instead of making me stew in my fucking anxiety
WHEN YOU START DATING A FANTASTIC AUDHD GUY WHOSE AUTISM WORKS LIKE YOURS AND YOU LOVE ALL THE SAME THINGS AND HAVE ALL THE SAME LIFE GOALS BUT HIS FUCKING PARENTS START DIVORCING IN A MESSY WAY SO HE NEEDS TIME TO HIMSELF AND YOU START MISSING A MAN YOU'VE KNOWN FOR ALL OF THREE WEEKS
thirty minutes before the new year i find out the kpop market has reached such saturation there finally is an idol with the same name as me……. happy new year horndogs
hello! can i request woozi with jealous prompt 'what? me? jealous? never'? thank youuuu ><
ⵌ jihoon x gose director!reader.
ⵌ word count: 1,019.
ⵌ notes: i can't stop writing about jihoon,, 🧎
Jihoon has long since accepted that he can be a jealous man when it matters.
He considers it harmless because it gets him moving. Jealous of a different group's success? He works doubly harder to make good music. Envious of someone else's build? He puts in more hours at the gym.
Jealousy is Jihoon's friend. At least, that's what he keeps on telling himself as you praise Soonyoung for his 'initiative'.
Another day, another filming for Going Seventeen. Today's concept is Christmas-themed: A Secret Santa shopping trip with a negligible budget per person. Jihoon knows he should be focused on getting something halfway decent for Chan— the member he had randomly picked earlier in the day— but he keeps getting distracted.
Soonyoung is looking just a little too pleased, a little too smug at your doting. Jihoon can practically hear the way his best friend is preening as he announces, "It's nothing, really. Just a little idea I had."
Jihoon doesn't even know what the two of you are talking about. He does know, though, that he's not going to hear the end of it from the rest.
It's an open secret, after all, that Jihoon has a crush on you.
He's always found it a bit inconvenient, really. He never thought he'd be the type to catch feelings for a staff member, but forced proximity and your undeniable charm have left him helpless.
It's just a crush, Jihoon has told anyone and everyone who teases him about it. I'll get over it.
Except it's been maybe a year and Jihoon is decisively not over it. He's preparing to deliver some variation of the same denial as Wonwoo sidles up to him, the latter grinning in an infuriating way.
"Don't start with me," Jihoon grumbles, his fingers tightening around the extension arm of his designated GoPro.
Wonwoo raises his shoulders in a shrug. "I'm not saying anything," he says in a tone that very much indicates his plans to say something.
A beat. And then, Wonwoo prompts, "Jealous?"
A derisive snort of laughter escapes Jihoon. He could lie, say something along the lines of What? Me? Jealous. Never, in an attempt to get his friends off his back. But they'd see through him anyway, so what was the point?
"Maybe," Jihoon answers. When Wonwoo only stares at him, Jihoon amends, "A little."
Wonwoo laughs at Jihoon's easy acceptance. The older man throws an arm around Jihoon's shoulders, the force of it almost sending the latter faceplanting into a shelf of keychains.
Jihoon is in the middle of biting out an annoyed "Could you not?!" when Wonwoo stage-whispers to him, "Don't worry. The director has a favorite, and it's not Mr. Steal-Your-Girl over there."
Before Jihoon can even question the taunt, Wonwoo is already peeling off to accomplish his task. The words echo a bit in Jihoon's mind. A favorite. Your favorite.
He wonders, briefly, what it would be like— to have that privilege.
He shakes his head, as if to empty his head of the thought. Wonwoo was just teasing, and Jihoon still has to find a gift for Chan. He spends the next thirty or so minutes wandering the department store, internally debating what to get the group's maknae.
Jihoon is weighing the merits of a Bluetooth shower speaker when he next hears from you.
"You know," you say from behind him. "Those have terrible sound quality."
It's only through years of conditioning that Jihoon doesn't jump, but he can't help the way his heart rate picks up ever so slightly. Still, he manages to keep his expression perfectly calm as he glances over his shoulder.
You look every bit like you always do. Clipboard in your hands; headphones hanging around your neck. An easy grin. The picture of the director who has robbed Jihoon of all his rational thought time and time again.
"Well, you didn't give us much to work with," he answers dryly.
"That's the challenge," you tease. "A low-budget exchange gift."
Jihoon sets down the speaker before turning to fully face you. "What would you suggest, then, if this is a bad gift?"
Your gaze flicks down to the GoPro. You didn't typically converse with the boys while they were shooting; if you did, the content was typically cut.
Something compels Jihoon to hit the 'pause' button on his device. "Off the record," he insists, a corner of his lip tugging up in the ghost of a smirk.
There's something unmistakably fond in the way you laugh, in how you choose to indulge Jihoon instead of insisting that he should keep filming.
"You got Chan, right?" You tilt your head to one side as if you're mulling it over. "I saw him fawning over the tealight candles earlier. If you're in the mood to be a menace, though, he thought the beanie hats were deplorable."
Jihoon lets out a chuckle of his own. "Got it," he says. "Candle, hat. Thanks for the intel, director."
It should end there. He should walk away, should turn the GoPro back on and film the rest of the show.
But Jihoon has never been very good at doing what he should, and his mind keeps replaying Wonwoo's earlier words.
And so, he finds himself asking, "What about you?"
Your eyebrows raise. "Me?"
"What would you like for Christmas?"
You look thrown off. Understandably so. "Oh," you say, your tone just a little softer. "That's not—"
Necessary, you're probably going to say. Jihoon cuts you off with a small shake of his head.
"We could have a little exchange gift of our own," he goes on. Jihoon has no idea where this is all coming from. The confidence in his flirtation. The smoothness of his words. It's a rare thing, but he's not going to let it go now that it's here. "I'll get you something if you get me something."
You laugh again, and then you give Jihoon the perfect opening. "What would you even want for Christmas, Jihoon-ah?"
Jealous has always been Jihoon's friend. It gets him moving.
a/n: thanks for requesting!!! tbf im not too satisfied with this one, but i hope you like it <3
contents: jihoon x gn!reader , established relationship , idol bf!jihoon , sappy and cute , reader writes jihoon a song , reader is a candy lover (ME. I AM READER. I WILL LOVE CANDY the song FOREVER)
it's the end of the year and jihoon is tired. but not too tired for a meet cute.
content warning: swear words concentrated in just one part
note: this just came out while i was listening to my secular christmas playlist (you gotta separate the two iykyk) !! and i am craving a cold winter!! and i finally lonely and marginalised!! honestly no clue what this is!!
divider by tumblr user enchanthings
jihoon always felt the end of year wash over him. the weeks before his birthday blurred into one another; usually, it was his members reminding him he was turning a year older on the day of. before he knew it, christmas lights shone on enamoured couples in the busy streets of the city and the new year rang in somewhere in the middle of award shows and booked appearances. in between events, he slept a dreamless sleep. the year behind him had him spent by november 1st, and nothing inspired him in this season of full-speed running on empty. the enduring snow looked less like magic and more like future mud, the bite of the cold on his skin felt like a vengeful nudge instead of a vigorous pat.
yet this year, somehow, thankfully, he found himself walking among merry strangers on a weekday evening with nothing to do. first excited at the thought of free time spent fidgeting with an abandoned composition, the lack of inspiration hit so hard that he felt there was nothing to do but go out. he needed to see life happen to other people, to make sure time was indeed passing by and that it was possible to feel anything positive, anything other than massive indifference for the winter’s happy occasions.
early december had swept in with windy elegance and jihoon was glad he could justify bundling up to the extreme of someone seeking anonymity and needing to hide much of themselves to get it. he debated bringing his phone along, but imagined himself caught in a mob of invasive fans with no escape in sight nor hand and supposed he could switch on do not disturb and reach for it if need be. surely his coworkers were enjoying their day off with loved ones, sparing no thought to jihoon, imagining him locked away in the studio, and would not disturb him.
it is strange how perception works. jihoon had no desire for a coffee, but something in the window of the small café caught his attention and before he realised he was ordering an americano and a waffle. the barista looked beyond saving, surely working overtime or fighting off a cold, and jihoon felt selfishly comforted by the interaction. that, and his shoulders dropped with ease at the thought of the worker too far gone to recognise him if they even had the faintest idea who he was.
snow started falling in slow, fluffy flakes just as he sat at the table facing the big window which had mysteriously convinced him to walk in. taking off his face mask, a sigh escaped his mouth. was it just exhaustion at the busy season, the accumulation of the busiest year of his career, or was there something else tugging on his heart strings? was the loneliness a consequence of all the couples walking down the street, the newly introduced partners among the members? the thought felt new, but it was loud, like it was trying to get jihoon’s attention with an urgency he had never experienced before. a sudden weight crushed his chest, the burden of a deep love that had nowhere to go. surely the closest feeling to this must be grief, he thought, mindlessly swirling his coffee around the cup with a spoon. maybe i’m grieving the life i am sacrificing for my career, he thought.
just then, a small, dark, shiny object flew towards him and landed on his waffle. a gasp and a curse turned his attention away from what turned out to be the broken lead of a mechanical pencil. jihoon’s eyes zeroed in on the yellow and blue pencil, noticing the fingers tightly holding onto it. his eyes traveled up an arm, covered in a loosely knit jumper, along the curve of a tense shoulder, then met your anxious look. "i am so sorry! holy shit, fuck, i should not be swearing at strangers! can i buy you a replacement waffle? fucking hell, what is it with this pencil?! shit, no swearing!"
jihoon’s heartbeat picked up its rhythm. your face was bright red with embarrassment, knuckles white around the mechanical pencil. in front of you a notebook was filled with messy sketches of the view he had just been gazing at through the window. he recognised his penciled self as he must have looked mere moments ago, suddenly enraptured by the café, magically convinced a coffee was just what he needed. maybe it was you who lured him in, without even realising he was seeing you. he had gone out looking for the sort of calm and loneliness you only get in crowded places. he was desperate for some peace and quiet-
"how long have you been drawing?" he was surprised his voice did not betray the shock at hearing himself start a conversation with a complete stranger who had just rendered his untouched waffle unedible. maybe the fact that you were engrossed in your activity, alone in the same coffee shop, perhaps looking for the same serenity that had brought him here in the first place, gave him the illusion of a connection already established by your common circumstances.
"clearly not long enough, are you seeing this? i still can't draw a straight line... but i guess the struggle to get just one good drawing is what i like the best about it. is it masochistic? or sadistic? wouldn't it be both if you like hurting yourself in this way? i like struggling to do something right. clearly i like struggling to make a good first impression by contaminating food with pencil lead...."
jihoon let out a giggle. a giggle. exhausted, fresh out of inspiration, almost disgusted by the stuffy odour of his studio, happy to take some time away from his best friends and coworkers, this observant, talkative stranger was right up his alley. yeah, he could keep that conversation going, easily. maybe it wasn't coffee or his subconscious that brought him here, to this street, this café, this table, at this hour. "i can relate to that," he said with furrowed brows faking deep thought, as if he didn't know exactly how much this applied to his stubborn practices. "and where else in life do you like to suffer?" you laughed hard enough to throw your head back and your hands to your stomach. maybe it was fate, he thought as he propped up his elbow on the table, his head leaning into his hand, a smile stretching the corners of his lips.
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