#I have a lot more of their songs under my fingers than any other group ahhaa | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sailoryooons · 1 year ago

Note

Okay hear me out, but maybe a little bit of enemies to lovers, little bit of smutty goodness between witch hunter!yoongi and witch!reader?? Idk why this popped in my head but I’m kind of desperate to see a little something now lol.

Also, I love you ❤️

❀ Pairing: Witch hunter!Yoongi x f. witch!reader

❀ Summary: For years, you and Yoongi have played cat and mouse. It’s his duty to rid the world of witches, but he always finds a new excuse to let you slip through his fingers. When you find yourself at his mercy, you wonder if the great witch hunter will finally end your game of chase, or if there’s something that will stay his hand.

❀ Word Count: 4188

❀ Genre: Urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, a hint of angst, smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: On screen character death (not permanent though), depictions of blood and intense action sequences, scary demon thing, depiction of weapons, hints at violence between two groups of people, mild world building, a bit of angst, explicit language, explicit sexual content featuring light nipple play, unprotected vaginal sex, emotional sex, a lot of spit, UNEDITED.

❀ Published: August 3, 2023

❀ A/N: I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to control myself with some of these ideas because god dammit Sarah, I want to turn this into more than ~4k of a work. Like this idea inspired me so much, you have no idea how insane I wanted to go on this but I had to CONTROL MYSELF because I promised that this year I would keep it tame. I love you so much and I’m so sorry that this is like 90% plot and 10% smut but I kept inching toward 5k and I was like I HAVE GOT TO STOP MYSELF JESUS CHRIST and dkfgjdiogjfoigjg I am telling you right now, I want to come back and revisit this fic and makie it like a four chapter thing or something because GOD I LOVED THIS IDEA AND YOU KNEW JUST WHAT TO REQUEST. Also this is unedited!!!!

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Most nights, Yoongi dreams of you. He knows better, and yet he can’t help himself. It’s like you’re living under his skin, a virus that has taken root in the marrow of his bones. He doesn’t know how he would dig you out if he tried.

If he tried.

If anyone from the Conclave knew the dangerous game that Yoongi is playing, he would be ousted or killed. Killing would be the mercy, but he’s garnered enough hate within the elite members of the Conclave to know they’d rather him suffer cut off from his resources. His friends. His family.

Still, Yoongi walks a dangerous line. He knows it’s wrong, letting a witch infect him like a sickness. He is sure that he’s under your spell. There’s no other explanation for the way he always lets you slip away. For the way he closes his eyes and imagines the flutter of your heart against his, the sound of your gasps, the warmth of your hands.

Stars explode behind Yoongi’s eyes as he presses the heels of his hands into them. He’s exhausted, limbs heavy and sore from a day of bloody work. The activity downtown has only worsened the last few months, making Yoongi hunt multiple times a day and return home banged up.

The pain he can handle. Witches and their demons are nothing new to him. But he knows there’s something he’s missing, something lurking beneath the surface of the increased activity and the strong demonic presence in the city.

Yoongi knows he could ask you. He’s thought about it a few times over the last few weeks but he’s talked himself out of it each time. The curiosity has always lingered there, waiting for him to ask in those moments where you cross his path, coy and sharp as ever. In the minutes you linger, shooting him insults he thinks you don’t mean and playing little word games.

He doesn’t ask, though. And you never offer, despite the fact that your sharp eyes and knowing smirk lead him to believe you know he wants to ask.

Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t. Not giving you what you want is part of the fun. He likes the way it makes you bristle, magic crackling at your fingertips. He loves the way it makes you narrow your eyes at him, lobbing empty threats that make him want to purr.

Whatever this effect you have on him is potent. He can’t shake you off, can’t outrun you.

And worse, he doesn’t want to.

Rain begins to beat on the bedroom window outside. Though his limbs are heavy from slogging through the sewer system downtown after a witch and her ivax demon, he’s a little too keyed up to sleep. Yoongi senses something staticy in the air, an energy that he can’t name.

Opening up his phone, he flips through his text threads with members of the Conclave. It seems everyone is in it tonight, the demonic activity buzzing and the monsters worse than usual. He frowns when he sees Seokjin mention a prowler crawling through the warehouse district. Yoongi knows that’s where you live and an unexpected sense of unease slivers down his spine.

He locks his phone and tosses it on the bed. He doesn’t need to worry about you. You’re one of the most skilled witches in the city and you’ve killed scores of demons and others alike. He should remove your head for the number of hunters you’ve put in the ground, but you’ve killed triple that in witches.

Which is why you’re alone. It’s not lost on Yoongi that you’re a witch without a coven and with unusual alliances living in a warehouse all alone with a prowler on the loose. If you know it’s there - you have to know it’s there, being you - he knows you’ll go after it.

“Fuck,” he sighs at the ceiling.

Grabbing his phone, Yoongi sends off a quick text.

Yoongi: Anyone dispatching to take care of the prowler?

Councilman Haer: Negative. The Conclave will not be dispatching. The Warehouse District is not critical and it’ll go back down after it’s satiated. Prowlers aren’t controlled by witches, it might even take a few out for us.

Yoongi stomach flips as he squeezes his phone tight before getting up. He’s tired of the Conclave’s inaction. He knows he’ll get in trouble for going after something so dangerous without backup, but he can’t ask Seokjin and Hoseok to back him up on this one. Not unauthorized, and not for something so dangerous.

Unsanctioned hunts is exactly how Yoongi has ended up at the bottom of the pool among Conclave members, but he doesn’t care. Politics can’t erase the fact that he’s the best fucking hunter in the city, and no councilman who won’t get their hands dirty can give him grief for doing what needs to be done.

This isn’t about the Conclave, though. Yoongi knows it. Seokjin would know it, if Yoongi told him what he was doing. But the thought of a prowler tearing through the low-income streets in the Warehouse District doesn’t resonate with him. Neither does knowing that you are one of the witches in the line of fire.

Yoongi dresses and arms himself with military proficiency. A black, long-sleeved shirt with a form-fitted leather vest over it to prevent most stabs and cuts, knives sheathed along the ribbing of the vest, breathable pants with a tactical belt and pockets full of hunting necessities, and his necklace with the Conclave helix.

At the last second, he grabs a jacket and pulls the hood up to keep the beating rain from soaking him through. While he has some talent with magic to help him heal faster and make his blows stronger and faster, he’s not skilled in the way of weather or anything advanced enough to keep him dry and comfortable.

Nervousness settles into him as he takes the subway to the Warehouse District. It’s not far, but the train is empty and filled with dirty puddles left behind from passengers. Lights flicker above as the subway rockets unevening on the tracks, making him dizzy.

When he steps off the train and into the wet underground of the station entrance, he knows something is amiss. His fingers twitch as he jogs up the steps, boots splashing loudly as the rain comes down. Wind whips at him here and when he hears a crack of thunder too loud and rumbling to be human, his instincts kick in.

Yoongi takes off running. He knows where your warehouse-turned-loft is. He’d originally scouted it out to eliminate you. Now, it’s something he’s always kept an eye on, steering other hunters away from your home. It’s silly, he knows. You’d call him weak if you knew, probably. And yet he does it, diverting danger coming your way when he can.

Now, danger is already there.

The storm rages harder as he heads your direction. Wind pushes at him, making Yoongi lock his muscles as he fights the freezing cold rain and the debris that blows down the street with the force of the storm. He hopes that it keeps people indoors and away from the prowler.

But Yoongi sees the purple lighting lance out of the sky, an explosion of radiant beauty for a moment before it strikes nearby, blowing transforms into white sparks and he realizes what is so uncanny about this storm.

It’s you. You’re the storm.

A roar of rage shakes the air as he comes around the corner to your street. The warehouse you live in is at the end of the road right up against the bay. The wind is mixed with salt spray, stinging his eyes as he runs towards the shadowy outline of your building, nearly impossible to see in the rain and night.

Yoongi manages to roll one of the heavy doors open to your loft, muscles screaming with effort. Stepping inside, chaos greets him. The ceiling is blown out above your home, rain pouring in from the sky. It tastes like lightning and blood. No doubt your storm is what ripped the ceiling apart, but when he sees the prowler, he doesn’t blame you.

A massive creature stands ten feet tall, rippling with leathered hide and spikes on its back. Long, gangly limbs drag on the floor with black, sharpened talons on the end of each of its three fingers. The prowler walks awkwardly and Yoongi notes the scorch mark in its left shoulder, making it lean as it drags itself toward its intended target.

Which is you, laying on the ground bloody and rain soaked. Yoongi doesn’t even think. He has no idea if you’re conscious or not, but he’s moving across the room, putting power into his step as he pulls out two of his daggers and jumps high up into the air.

Yoongi’s intent is to land on the back of the prowler and sink each blade in as he falls. He doesn’t anticipate the demon to turn away from bloodied prey, but it does, swinging its arm wildly to bat him away. He’s lucky that the forearm catches him in the stomach and sends him flying and not the flaws.

Closing his eyes and bracing for impact, Yoongi is surprised when he doesn’t slam into a wall. He opens his eyes to see himself floating toward the floor, suspended briefly before the phantom energy drops him gently. He lands with shock, looking up to where you’re sitting up, one hand extended toward him.

At least you weren’t out cold or dead. Yoongi is really happy that you’re not dead, but it’s cut short as the prowler charges him.

This time, Yoongi’s ready. He runs at the beast, waiting until he’s right outside of the window of its swiping claws before he dives to his knees, sliding under the creature and between its legs. He twists his hands, cutting the inside of the creature’s thighs as he goes.

It shrieks, shaking the building and scattering Yoongi’s thoughts. He feels fizzy and confused for a moment, the mind breaking scream of the prowler enough to make him vulnerable. He feels a hand on his face and he looks up, momentarily stricken with the thought that he sees an angel.

“Thank you,” you breathe, and he recognizes your voice. Usually it cracks like a whip, but this is soft. Strange. It terrifies him. “I’m going to do something that is probably going to kill me. Just know that I liked our game, Hunter.”

“What are you doing, Witch?”

Your smile is like the sun. He doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful. Your face is covered in blood and rain, turning your neck scarlet as it runs. There’s a gash above your brow and he sees a blackened wound in your stomach.

It is amazing, how a creature like you, bred to be an evil, wicked thing can look radiant. Holy. Wonderful. Your hand is cradling his face and it feels warm, despite the rain and blood on your hands. Your thumb is soft as it sweeps across his cheek, a touch more reverent than he’s ever known.

“Witch,” Yoongi starts, unsure what you’re doing.

“I’ll miss that. Take this.”

Before Yoongi can react, your hand falls from his face. You move past him with absolute confidence, lifting your chin. You have a limp as you do, and Yoongi reaches after you but you’re already out of his grip.

Something stirs in the air. He’s only felt power rippling like that once before when he was a child, and the entire Conclave worked together to slaughter an Eldritch Witch that had attacked them and taken out more than half of their hunters.

Now, Yoongi feels that dark presence again, energy buzzing against his ears as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. The prowler senses the power disturbance too, backing away from you as dark particles begin to gather around your hands.

Above you, the rain hovers, disrupted by the frequency of your magic. The buzz in Yoongi’s ears gets louder as he climbs to his feet, clapping his hands firmly over his ears, wincing as it gets higher and louder. He thinks it might burst his ear drums or crack his skull open.

Disks of dark particles circle you as you approach the demon, which is now roaring once more, trying to disrupt your thoughts. It doesn’t work, the air vibrating with dark matter. You’re at the center of the swirling darkness, the rings rotating around you like an access.

The sound stops suddenly, and for a moment, Yoongi thinks he’s deaf. Black matter pulses from you, exploding outward. Yoongi hits the floor, realizing if he gets hit with your magic, he’ll die. Never before has he witnessed the Eldritch Blast of a witch, but he knows that it's only used as a final stand.

I’m going to do something that is probably going to kill me.

The finality of your words shreds him open as the shockwave of your magic barrels at him. He thinks he’s going to die as it expands toward him, but instead, it arches over him, battling down against a magical barrier.

Take this. Yoongi realizes you’ve warded him from your destruction, keeping him safe as your blast levels the world around you. He feels the magic beating down on your ward like raging fits, vibrating and shrieking under the pressure of the magic.

It even keeps him from being injured by the collapsing debris.

Yoongi looks at you as the world falls to pieces. You go down to one knee, then the other, swaying as the darkness cascades around you in a final flutter of power. Then you fall over, heavy and unmoving as the rest of the building comes down.

All he can do is scream.

Most nights, you dream of Yoongi. You don’t know when it started - perhaps that first night after you met him? You can’t be sure. All you know is that at some point, the hunter poisoned you from the inside out, a disease taking root and rotting you all the way through to your core.

You always knew that dreaming of him would get you killed one day. But Yoongi was different. Wiser than the rest of his wretched Conclave. Smart enough to question his way of life and his faction’s merciless killings. You think he’ll start asking the right questions soon, that maybe he’ll start seeing the signs that who he has sworn loyalty to isn’t who they say they are.

But Yoongi never asks questions.

It’s easy to tell he wants to. There’s always that little pause at the end of your meetings. You used to think it was perhaps he was trying to decide whether or not to kill you. Perhaps it was that at first, but now it’s something a little different. A little more. Like he is on the edge of finally asking you what exactly is going on in the city that he protects from monsters.

Yoongi is simple, though. He likes his little life tucked away in the Art District and he likes the wash, rinse, repeat of killing demons and corrupted witches nightly. You think he likes your little run-ins.

Now, you’ve finally paid the price of letting him live these last two years. Had someone told you before you’d met Yoongi that you’d sacrifice yourself for him and the rest of a small neighborhood, you’d have laughed in their face. You weren’t a hero, though some might think slaying your own kind and their creatures was worth praise.

Penance and praise are not the same, though.

Dying seems like a good way of paying off your list of wrongs. Especially to save Yoongi. If only to save Yoongi, if you were being honest.

Witches have a lot of lore about death and where one goes in the afterlife. You’re not sure where you are, if you exist, or if you’re even really a thought. It feels like nothingness and everything all at once, a void of floating consciousness. There’s no pain, but you remember the warehouse. Remember the prowler ripping down the door and coming for you specifically.

And him. You remember Yoongi coming in, looking like a fucking angel of old as he leapt through the skies. Together you might have taken on the beast. But prowlers are notoriously difficult to destroy, and you were in no shape to protect Yoongi, much less fight by his side as a reliable partner.

That left you with one option, and though you knew it would end you, you’d done it anyway.

Yoongi’s face swims in your mind. Soft and round, eyes like the bottom of the ocean, a single pink scar carved through his right eye. Mouth soft and petal pink, hair silky and dark, reaching to his shoulders. He’s small for a hunter but he’s strong and broad, his mind his best weapon.

Witch, Yoongi had said. The last words you’d hear from him, spoken with a softness that you’ve never heard from him before. Rain-soaked and wide eyed Yoongi, looking at you like you held the flame of life, like you were something more than a creature on the other side of the trench.

The best thing you could do for him was die.

So you summoned your magic from deep within you, that ancient, sleeping thing. You try not to think about what Yoongi’s last memory of you will be, an eldritch horror that will remind him of the creature that slaughtered his family as a child.

Yoongi will never get to ask his questions. You’ll never get to tell him why you haunt the streets killing your own kind. Yoongi will never know the softness of your kiss. You’ll never know the gentle press of his hands.

Something brushes across your forehead. You feel now and you frown. Or can you frown, in whatever plane of death this is? You’re not sure, but you feel… the weight of your own body. The beating of your own heart. The rush of air through your lungs as you breathe.

Awareness prickles at the back of your neck like a needle. Slowly, you begin to feel solid. Your fingers twist in soft sheets, and when you turn your head, you feel the plushness of a pillow. Smell petrichor and cedar.

It smells like… Yoongi.

“Hmmm?” you feel the vibration in your throat at your unspoken question, nothing but a rumble of noise and confusion. Something cradles your face. “Hunnn..?”

A deep, throaty laugh. “Mmm, I take care of you for a week straight and we’ve moved on to endearments?”

Your eyes flutter open, lids heavy. The world swims into view, a little blurry as your eyes try to focus in the dimly lit room, taking in the bed you’re in and the face hovering above yours.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, your heart expanding with unfettered joy.

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said my name.”

“What?”

“Say it more often.” He leans forward and you watch as his dark eyes drink you in. “And never do that to me again.”

Before you can ask him what that is, Yoongi’s mouth is pressing against yours. You melt immediately, going boneless in a bed you’re unfamiliar with, lost in the citrusy taste of his mouth and the gentle press of his lips. His kiss is soft soft soft, blurring reality as he pulls at your bottom lip teasingly before pulling away.

Eyes fluttering open, you stare at him in wonder. He hovers above your face, haloed by inky-black hair. “Yoongi.”

He smiles. “It sounds much better than hunter. Hun can stay, though.”

“You’re not calling the shots.”

“You’re in no condition to fight me.”

“I killed a prowler, I think you’re no problem.”

His eyes glow. “I think perhaps you’re right. But for now, you’re at my mercy.”

“Kiss me again.” You lift your hands and bring them toward his face, brushing a finger over the bottom of his scar. “And don’t stop this time. I’ll ask my questions later.”

“Of course, witch.”

Yoongi’s kiss is hungrier now. Desperate. Full of all the questions he never asked and you meet him with equal fire. You don’t care that you’ve beat the odds and lived. You don’t care about anything else but the weight of Yoongi straddling your waist and the feel of his velvet soft skin beneath your hands.

Every inch of him is warm, filled with the heat of the hunter’s fire that burns through every member of the Conclave. This hunter burns brighter than the rest, though. Warmth blooms where your fingers press over his stomach and chest, ridding him of his shirt. Fire burns where you grab his arms, arching into him as his teeth skim your throat.

You’ve never felt this in sync with someone, bodies twining together like you were made for one another. Yoongi’s hand is scorching as his touch ghosts down your body, his touch light and teasing as he lowers his mouth to your hardened nipple, catching it and giving a gentle suck.

Honey-dipped moans slip from your mouth. Yoongi’s mouth is wet-hot against your skin, tongue laving hungrily as his hand seeks the heat between your legs. Your thighs open for him easily, giving Yoongi access to the dripping mess of your folds. He curses when his fingers slide between your slit, gathering slick to circle his digits around your clit.

“Fuck,” you hiss, hips twitching. “Don’t bother. I can take you now. Want you now.”

“I told you that you were at my mercy.” You summon your magic, rattling his shelves. Yoongi leans over to your neglected nipple and plucks it with his teeth, making you squeal and shiver, pleasure rattling you. “Fine,” he agrees. “Greedy witch. Should have known.”

“Not greedy,” you shoot back as Yoongi sits up and sheds his pants. Your hands follow him, tracing the faint scars on his stomach, pressing against the muscle of his tapered hips. “I’ve waited for months for you to do something. To say something.”

“I’m not good at that.”

You hum. “It takes me dying for you to take initiative?”

“A lesson hard-learned and never to be repeated.”

Yoongi’s cock is hard, bobbing heavily as he shuffles you under him and presses your thighs open for him. The brown tip is sticky with precum, his shaft long and thick enough to make your cunt ache for him more.

“Nice cock,” you tease as he pumps himself, hand gliding and spreading his precum down his shaft.

He grunts. “Can’t wait to feel this fucking pussy,” he mutters, leaning forward and pressing the tip to your entrance. You make a breathy sound, eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure-pained stretch. “Think you can take it, witch?”

“Yes.”

Yoongi sinks in and you second-guess your statement for a second, but the stretch of his cock pressing you open feels good. Deliriously so, your back arching as he bottoms out. You feel him in your gut, deeper than anything ever before and you whine as he draws his hips back before snapping them forward, punching the breath from your lungs.

He sets a deep, hard pace. You grip his biceps, feeling the muscle flex in his arms. Every part of you is on fire, lit up from the closeness of your bodies as Yoongi leans down and melds your mouths together, continuing to fuck you so deep you know you’ll never forget what it feels like.

Every brush of his cock against your g-spot drives you mad. Every whisper of your name - your name, not witch - makes you shudder. His tongue is hungrily as it brushes against yours, his moans deep and throaty as your pussy grips him tight.

“Fuck,” he pants, sliding a hand down your body to grab your thigh and hoist your leg higher. It changes the angle, making his stroke somehow deeper. Your eyes roll back and your head digs into the mattress as you fist at the sheets. “You can fucking take it.”

“Keep going.”

“As if i could fucking stop.”

You never want him to stop. Fucking you, kisses you, teasing you, shadowing you as you take on the world. You want every part of your life colored with Yoongi. You want him to be a part of your mornings, your fights, your weaknesses, your strengths. You want to rile him up, needle him with little insults that get him going. Tease him to make him laugh and share that secret smile.

Every moment has led to this. You don’t know how you never saw this outcome, here with him, crying out his name as your orgasm crests into an unstoppable force. When you come around him, it’s with his name in your mouth and so much need for him in your heart that you think you might explode with energy for a second time.

After, when you’re wrapped in Yoongi and you feel his hunter’s skin blaze against you, sweat-slick skin pressed close, you think that finally, he’ll ask those questions. You’ll give him answers.

“Don’t do that ever again, witch,” Yoongi warns. “I will follow you into death.”

#yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts suga #bts fanfic #minors do not interact #minors dni #bts suga smut #yoongi angst #halis happy agust

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arabe11as · 4 months ago

Text

A night with a rockstar

A young mysterious lad seems to flirt with you in a pub

warnings: MDNI, sexual content, strong language, slight degradation/fatphobia, public sex, light BDSM (choking).

You arrive at a pub in Sheffield with a few girls you’ve stayed in touch with since finishing school.

You’re in your twenties, craving a break from the monotony of work and the solitude of living alone in the city.

Instead of spending another night indoors, you decided to join them for a drink. As you walk in, you notice they’re all wearing coordinating outfits, which makes you feel self-conscious in your gothic attire.

“Hiya,” you say, approaching them with a smile. “Oh, hi Y/N, you actually came,” Jess giggles, the unofficial leader of the group.

You can’t quite figure out why you’re here—these girls have always been dickheads, and you’ve never really liked them. Maybe you just didn’t want to feel so lonely.

you head to the bar to order a drink, you notice the girls giggling and glancing over at a group of lads, maybe your age, maybe a bit older, sitting in the corner booth.

“What are you lot giggling about?” you ask with a smile. “Don’t you notice? The Arctic Monkeys are sitting across the room,” one of them scoffs. “Who?” you ask, genuinely confused.

You might’ve heard a few of their songs in passing, but you’ve never been that into them.

The girls, on the other hand, are clearly smitten, and you notice Jess giving the lead singer a flirty look. He, however, seems completely uninterested and looks away from her.

“I dunno, maybe staring at them isn’t the best way to pull,” you mutter under your breath. Jess catches it, turning to you with a snide grin.

“As if you could do any better,” she snaps, making the rest of them burst out laughing. You’ve had just about enough of her nonsense. “Maybe I could,” you fire back, sick of her attitude.

Jess sneers, “I don’t think he’s into girls twice his size,” making the group erupt in laughter.

Ouch, you think, feeling the sting of her words. As much as you don’t care what Jess thinks, it still hurts more than you’d like to admit.

You glance around at them, wondering what the point was of even coming out tonight.

Forcing a laugh, you brush it off, but as soon as they turn their attention elsewhere, you quietly grab your pack of cigs and slip out the back for a smoke.

Leaning against the wall, you take a deep drag, letting the smoke calm your nerves. Just then, the fire exit swings open.

It’s him. The lead singer. He’s got long, shaggy brown hair and the most inviting, warm eyes you’ve ever seen.

Your mouth drops open a little in shock as he stands right in front of you. He flashes you a smile before strolling over. “Haven’t got a lighter, have ya?” he asks, his thick Sheffield accent making your heart skip a beat.

“Uh—yeah,” you stammer, smiling as you fumble for your lighter. As you turn to hand it to him, you notice he’s already got a cig in his mouth, leaning in slightly, waiting for you to light it. You step in closer, almost too close, and flick the lighter.

The flame dances in the small space between you as you light his cigarette, feeling the warmth of his presence.

He leans against the brick wall next to you, taking a drag from his cigarette. “your mates seem like twats,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

“What? Who?” you ask, momentarily distracted by how good-looking he is, completely forgetting about the girls inside.

“The girls you were stood with,” he replies, his eyes glinting with amusement as he holds the cigarette between his fingers.

“Tell me about it. they’re not really my mates,” you admit, smiling shyly as you struggle to maintain eye contact with him.

He studies you for a moment, just staring, his gaze making your heart race. “What?” you finally ask, a bit self-conscious.

“Nothin’. I was looking at you, but I think she thought I was looking at her,” he chuckles, his laughter warm and genuine.

You smile to yourself, taking a drag from your cigarette as the two of you stand there. “I’m Alex,” he says, offering you a friendly grin.

“Y/N,” you reply, smiling back. An awkward silence settles between you as you both smoke, the weight of the moment making your heart race. Don’t fuck this up, you think to yourself.

“I, uh—I like your band,” you blurt out, trying to fill the silence.

“Oh, really?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice. “What’s your favorite song?”

Panic sets in as you realize he’s caught you. If you’d known who he was, you might’ve been fawning over him like the other girls inside. “I—um… you know that one song that goes, uh—" you stammer, struggling to come up with anything.

“Oh yeah?” he teases, a knowing smile on his face.

You give up and laugh. “I don’t know any of your songs, Alex.”

“I figured,” he chuckles, the tension easing as you both laugh together.

Your cig starts to die out, and you want to punch yourself for not knowing how to keep the conversation going.

You’re too scared to ask him out, convinced he’d probably say no anyway. With no excuse to stay any longer, you toss the butt to the ground and stamp it out.

“It was nice to meet you, Alex,” you say with a smile, turning to walk down the alleyway, deciding to head home.

“Just go through this door,” he says, holding it open, assuming you’re heading back inside.

“Oh, I’m going home,” you reply with a small smile.

“Why?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“There’s nothing for me here,” you shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.

He hesitates for a second, then blurts out, “Do you wanna come back to mine?”

Your eyes widen at his forwardness. “No! Not like that, I just—everyone’s going back to mine. Do you wanna come?”

You smirk to yourself, considering his offer. After a brief pause, you decide to take a chance. “Sure,” you say, smiling as he grins back at you.

He still had more than half his cig left, but as soon as you said yes, he tossed it to the ground, stamping it out with a quick motion.

Now, you find yourself in his living room, surrounded by his mates who are sprawled out on the sofa.

You’d half-expected a scene of wild partying—snorting lines and doing shots—but instead, they’re all laid back, watching a movie and drunk-laughing at every little thing. His mates are surprisingly nice, not the arrogant rockstar types you imagined they’d be.

“Do you want another drink, love?” Alex leans over, his voice soft as he asks. You nod, and he flashes you a smile before adding, “Come help me make it.

You follow him into the kitchen, feeling a bit more at ease now.

You hop onto the kitchen counter, watching as Alex carefully mixes vodka with coke, making sure it’s not too strong for you.

As he hands you the drink, he finds an excuse to step in closer, slipping between your legs. With barely any height difference between you, he’s at eye level, watching intently as you take a sip.

“Is it alright?” he asks, his voice gentle

“Mhm,” you respond softly, nodding as the drink slides down smooth.

He doesn’t say anything more, just keeps staring at you with those big brown eyes. But it’s not the kind of stare that makes you uncomfortable; it’s warm, almost affectionate, as if he’s seeing something in you that no one else does.

You tilt your head slightly, curiosity piqued.

"What are you looking at, Alex?" you whisper, your voice soft but teasing.

He leans in just a bit closer, a smirk playing on his lips. "What do you think I'm looking at?"

"I dunno, you seem very deep in thought," you reply, matching his playful tone. "What are you thinking about?"

His eyes darken slightly as he keeps his gaze locked on yours. "Do you really want me to answer that?" he asks, his voice low and almost challenging.

"Yes," you say, your voice dropping to a flirty whisper, your faces now just a breath away from each other.

He hesitates for a moment, as if savoring the tension between you. Then, with a wicked grin, he finally confesses, "I'm thinking about ripping off those fishnets you've got on and fucking you right here on this kitchen counter."

Your breath catches, the air between you thick with desire. Leaning in even closer, you bring your lips to his ear and whisper, "What's stopping you?"

That's all it takes. In an instant, his hands are on you, pulling you closer as his lips crash into yours. The kiss is hungry, urgent, as if all the tension between you finally snapped.

You can feel the heat radiating off both of you as he grips your thighs, fingers curling into the fabric of your fishnets, already starting to tug.

Alex rips them open, his hands quickly slipping your panties down to your ankles as he fumbles with his belt, his eagerness clear.

He leans in, pressing his lips to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. The intensity of the moment overwhelms you, but a sudden realization hits-you're not alone.

There are maybe eight other people just in the other room.

"Alex, what if someone walks in?" you groan, your voice a mix of desire and concern.

"Fuck them," he moans in your ear, the heat in his voice making it clear he's too far gone to care about anything else.

The words send a thrill through you, and the tension between you deepens as you teeter on the edge of losing yourself completely in the moment.

Alex finally frees himself from his jeans, the anticipation almost too much to bear. He pushes into you, his movements urgent and needy, filling you with every thrust.

The cold surface of the counter contrasts with the heat between your bodies, heightening every sensation.

Your hands instinctively reach up, tangling in his hair as he moves in and out of you, each thrust making you gasp.

The world outside the kitchen fades away, leaving only the two of you and the raw intensity of the moment.

"Fuck, Alex," you moan, your voice a desperate plea as you cling to him, urging him to keep going.

His pace quickens, his breath ragged as he grips your hips, pulling you closer with every thrust

Alex's hand slides up, wrapping gently but firmly around your throat as he leans in to capture your lips in a deep, heated kiss.

"Please don't stop, Al," you groan, your voice heavy with need.

"I'm not gonna, don't worry," he murmurs against your lips, a confident smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He thrusts into you with a steady rhythm, but then, at one perfect angle, he hits just the right spot, and you cry out, the pleasure so intense it catches you off guard.

Quickly, he covers your mouth with his hand, muffling your cry. "You alright?" he asks, his pace slowing as concern flickers in his eyes.

You nod frantically, your voice reduced to a breathy moan. "Mhm. Please... harder," you manage to gasp out, your words tumbling together as your body arches against him, craving more.

Taking your plea to heart, Alex picks up the pace again, thrusting harder, deeper, hitting that spot over and over.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you grip his shoulders, your nails digging in, the pressure building until you're teetering on the edge once more, his hand still lightly wrapped around your throat, grounding you in the intensity of the moment.

"You're so pretty," Alex whispers in your ear, his voice laced with both tenderness and hunger.

As he speaks, he bites gently at your neck, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. His teeth graze your skin, leaving behind a trail of purple bruises, each one a mark of his desire.

The mixture of pain and pleasure only intensifies the moment, your body reacting to every bite, every word.

You grip him tighter, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation, his whispered compliments fueling the fire inside you as he continues to take you closer to the edge.

His breath is ragged in your ear, and you can feel him getting closer, his movements becoming more erratic.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groans, his voice strained as he battles to hold back.

"Do it inside me," you gasp, the words slipping out before you can even think.

You feel him hesitate, his pace faltering as he processes what you've just said.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice tinged with both shock and desire, clearly unsure if he should.

"Yes, please, Al," you beg, your voice desperate as you pull him closer, your nails digging into his back. The thought of him filling you up only heightens the pleasure building inside you.

He gives in, his resolve crumbling as he thrusts into you one last time, deeper than before, and you feel the flood of warmth as he spills inside you.

The sensation sends you over the edge, and you both cum together, your bodies trembling against each other as waves of pleasure crash over you.

His grip on your throat tightens slightly as his orgasm overtakes him, his face buried in your neck as he moans out your name.

As you both catch your breath, you slide off the counter, your legs shaky. You pull your panties back up, feeling the slick warmth of his cum leaking out of you, and you can't help but smile, loving the way it feels.

You kiss his lips softly, savoring the taste of him one last time before you break the kiss.

"I should go," you say, your voice still breathless.

"Wow, a shag and now you're off?" Alex laughs, the sound vibrating against your lips as he leans in for another kiss.

"I need the pill, you freak," you giggle against his mouth, kissing him once more, this time with a bit more tenderness.

"I'll get a taxi home. I'll call you tomorrow," you smile, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes before you reluctantly step away.

The look in his eyes tells you he's not ready for you to leave, but he lets you go, watching as you head for the door with a small smile on his face.

Alex walks you to the door, his hand lingering on your lower back as you share one last lingering kiss. “Get home safe, yeah?” he murmurs, his voice soft with concern.

You smile up at him, feeling a warmth in your chest as you lean in for one more quick kiss before finally stepping away and heading out to the taxi waiting for you.

You can feel his eyes on you as you climb into the car, and just before the door closes, you catch one last glimpse of him standing there, watching you with a small, satisfied smile on his face.

As the taxi pulls away, Alex heads back into the living room, where his mates are sprawled out on the sofa, all of them staring at him with amused expressions.

“What?” Alex asks, trying to play it cool, though he’s fully aware of the looks they’re giving him.

“You could’ve asked us to leave, you know?” Matt says, raising an eyebrow.

“We had to turn the telly up,” Jamie adds with a laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching as he struggles to keep a straight face.

Alex’s face flushes bright red as the realization hits him—they heard everything.

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to hide his embarrassment, but the redness in his cheeks gives him away. “Shut up, you lot,” he mutters, sinking into a chair, but he can’t help the sheepish grin that tugs at his lips, despite the teasing.

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #alex turner fluff #alex turner smut #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x reader

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perfumejamal · 11 months ago

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SECRET SANTA (h.r) 18+

pairing: dom!renjun x f!reader

summary: when you are renjun’s secret santa and you choose to get him a silly present, but the night ends with him splitting you open on his couch.

genre: @jenoslutie ‘s christmas collab, smut, fluff

warnings: best friend!renjun, pocket pussy mentioned, unprotected (seems like all my fics.. but pls use protection!), cute renjun, softdom!rejun, creampie??

word count: 1.6k

a/n: YOOO yall don’t know how many time i had to scrap the damn fic. i was so close to ending this account that’s how bad it was fr.. also i am so sorry for how late this is i was trying my best to finish it with how many times i deleted it and tryna keep up all my course work ,, hope yall can enjoy and look past how late it is ………also listen to this song bc it was on repeat while i was writing this!!

renjun was one of the hardest people to read, he was very quiet and kept to himself. unlike the rest of the guys, he didn’t hit on you or make sexual jokes around you. you were convinced he didn’t make any jokes of that sort at all.

you smile as you mentally read his name off the slip you just drew from a cup. you and your friends decided to do secret santa, following the usual tradition you had all followed.

you spotted renjun sitting at the kitchen counter, snacking on some chocolate covered pretzels. he would talk from time to time, but most conversations was held by you and the others. you sit on the counter facing him, staring down at him. “junnie?”

he hummed softly as a response, “are you not having fun?” you say with a sad tone to your voice.

he quickly straightens his posture before responding, “i-im having a lot of fun!” he says with a slight smile.

you smile back at him taking his hand and leading him to the living room, where everyone else was singing and dancing.

you snickered to yourself as you wrapped up renjun’s gift. unsure of what to get him you thought you’d get him something silly and something he needed. your friend group was very open about hookups and lack there of. renjun, however didn’t really talk about any of that. so what better gift to get him than something he could use to pleasure himself?

you were getting ready to drop off his gift. he didn’t have a lecture today and he wasn’t working so it was the perfect time to swing by his apartment. you also didn’t want any of your friends to see the gift, they tend to make a big deal out of things.

you rung the doorbell to his apartment, quickly making your way in when he let you in.

“junnie!” you exclaim hugging him immediately. “i’m your secret santa,” you say with a bright smile to your face handing him the wrapped present.

he smiled and took the gift placing it under his small christmas tree. “take a seat, let me get you some hot chocolate,” he said heading to the kitchen.

you take off your jacket and place it on the hanger by his door. snuggling into his cozy couch, and covering yourself with the blanket you had crocheted for him. “junnie i’m gonna search for a movie to watch!” you yell from the couch, earning a small ‘mhm’ from him.

scrolling through the new releases you chose a random rom-com, and renjun came back just in time with your mug of hot chocolate and some cake. he sat down next to where you laid, getting under the blanket and letting your head rest on his lap.

the movie started with the main characters hating each other, and you were intrigued this trope being your favorite. your focus kept shifting as renjun kept playing with your hair, his slender fingers massaging your scalp.

you relaxed into his touch, your mind hazy at the softness of his fingers. “fuckk,” you moaned, accidentally. you cover your mouth quickly realizing what just happened. he chuckled, slowly pulling his hands out of your hair.

your face is reddening but you try to hide it by looking at the screen, focusing once more on the movie. which was probably not a good idea. you’re not even sure how long he was massaging your scalp, but by the time you looked back there was a sex scene.

you clear your throat awkwardly as you watch it, rubbing your legs together and shifting around. “are you okay, y/n?” you quickly look up at him from his lap and nod your head yes rapidly.

“yes!” you exclaim. “sorry if i was moving so much,” you say moving to sit next to him. focusing on the screen once more.

you let out a sigh of relief as the movie came to an end. “you know,” you start, moving towards his tree. “you can open your present,”

he nodded walking towards his tree, grabbing the cutely wrapped present. “you’re right,” he said as he neatly ripped it apart. his eyebrows furrowing in question looking at the box under the pink wrapping paper. you sit back on the couch sipping on some water as his mouth forms an ‘o’. “you got me a fucking pocket pussy?”

you burst out into laughter, spitting out the water in your mouth. he walked towards the couch while holding the present in his hand. “y/n,” he started, lifting up your chin up to face him. your eyes wondering everywhere but to his own. “why’d you get me this?”

his tone was deep, with a serious undertone and it made you nervous. you had never seen him like this, you didn’t even think his voice could go that deep, dropping a few octaves from his normal voice. “i-im sorry.. i just wanted to give you something to help yourself!”

he looked down at you angrily, “what? you thought that just because i didn’t fuck you that i didn’t fuck anyone?” he leaned down closing the gap between you and him, “you’re right, though.”

you could feel his breath on yourself, making you even more nervous. “do you know why that is, y/n?” you nodded your head no as a response, unable to get any words out. “well, it’s because i want to fuck you, i always have.”

you gasped at the words, throat closing up at his words. “fuck it,” he said before closing the gap between you two, pushing his lips on yours. his hand sneaking around your body, one around your neck to deepen the kiss the other gripping your hips.

you moan into his mouth, he pulls away slowly. “i need you right now, y/n,” he says. “then fuck me, junnie!” you say in excitement awaiting his next move.

his eyes were full of lust and warmth, he kept steady eye contact with you as his he started getting on his knees between your thighs. he pressed the hot warmth of his mouth onto your clothed pussy. chuckling against you as your back arched from the friction. “baby, relax your body,”

you whine as his fingers grace your cunt, he plays with the waistband of your panties. “please! please do something renjun,” you pleaded him making him laugh at you before pulling your panties down and lapping at your pussy.

his hand grip at your thighs, and his tongue works your folds. he sucks on your clit like a madman, hungry and thirsty for you. “you’re so fucking wet, y/n,” he says while adding two fingers into your hole.

you gasp, throwing your head back, a scream ripping through your throat. “fuck, fuck!” you moan out, your hands making their way to his soft hair, grabbing a handful to guide him more into your pussy.

renjun looks up at you, seeing your pleased face, smiling to himself. “y/n, baby are you close?” he asks you in a sweet tone.

“mhm! fuck, yes i’m close junnie!” you moan out as a response. and just like that your body felt empty, your orgasm is quickly interrupted. a sadistic chuckle escaping him as he sees the sadness on your face. “why’d you stop?” you pout.

he smiles, cupping your face with his soft hands, caressing your hair before saying, “i want to feel you,” he says simply, kissing your swollen lips, “i wanna feel you come against my dick,”

you bite your lips, using your hands to pull his sweats down. letting his dick spring out against his abdomen. “can i ride you?” you ask, whispering into his ear as if you’d be ridiculed if you said it any louder.

“fuck, y/n, you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

you smile, climbing onto his hardened dick, using his arms as support. you both let out a pleased sigh as you sank down into his dick, slowly letting yourself adjust to his size.

you started to slowly bounce, but renjun had different plans. his hands rest on both sides of you, forcing himself into you fast, making your eyes roll back. he giggled bringing his head to rest on the nape of your shoulder as you rode him slowly.

the room was filled with the sound of your bodies slapping against each other, and your loud moans along with his quiet moans. you ran your nails over his toned back, biting his shoulder softly.

he uses his hands to lift you from bouncing, causing you to whine. “shh, baby,” he said pushing your head onto the soft couch in his dimly lit living room. you can feel yourself feeling hotter against his hard dick.

renjun aligned himself, hand resting on your lower abdomen, slowly entering you feeling himself against your lower stomach. “you alright y/n?” he asked earning a response from you almost immediately.

“yes, yes fuckkkk!” you scream into the cushion you were holding for support. “you’re fucking me so good, junnie.”

he smiled to himself, his thrusts becoming sloppier. he could feel himself getting closer and closer to coming undone. his hand worked its way to your clit rubbing circles, making your eyes roll back harder than before.

your legs were threatening to give up on you, and renjun gripped your hips to hold you up. “where do you want my cum?”

you moaned at the question, “in me please!”

he complied with your request, cumming in you. your body gave up on you, letting you fall down onto the couch. renjun let out a low chuckle. “you fucked me crazy, junnie!”

he smiled at you, pressing a kiss onto your lips, your eyes half closed. “yeah, i guess i did,” he laughed at your fucked out state. “do you still think i need that pocket pussy?”

you giggled, “definitely not, you probably think i’m the worse secret santa…”

he smiled, “this was the best gift i could ask for,” he said placing a soft kiss on your lips.

#nct smut #nct #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct dream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct u #nct x reader #perfumejamal #renjun #SoundCloud

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luckyshotwrites · 27 days ago

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Ch. 108 // Another Girls Day // Day Off

Contents (Warnings): What's wrong with Underkin? (Fluffier than usual, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on A03

Wordcount: 5,600+

Song I correlate to this Chapter: None unfortunately

Author's Note: THANK YOU ALL FOR WAITING. I appreciate the support, sincerely. AND I HOPE IT'S COHERENT.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Jan. 31st, Tuesday)

Lynette

I read over the text again, sitting in the parking lot.

Lev: Don't worry, Lynette, I didn't forget about you. I'm preoccupied at the moment and will make time for you soon.~ 10:30 a.m.

I tapped my head to my phone. Great.

Today, like most days, I considered myself lucky.

His vendetta against Alexander overwrote whatever he planned to use the five hours he won during our poker game.

I'm surprised Xander didn't lock Lev's human case sooner. I didn't know if it was Alexander being "sportsmen-like" or if he hadn't considered it before.

I'm surprised he didn't given how much he complains about losing. I mentally waved the thought away. I should be happy Xander doesn't use his magic often.

I exited my car, ensuring my knife was strapped and my phone was in my pocket beside the keys. Lev poses more of a challenge to me, anyway.

I patted my punch bug.

Alexander lost his edge to me—his threats held little weight. Not that he'd let me get away with everything, but he backed off more. And regardless of our bickering, a part of me, slim as it was, trusted him.

I've known them for almost six months after all. We moved so much when Padre came back, I rarely knew people that long.

They still scared me. Lev more than Alexander at this point, yet the thought of reaching my hand out to them stayed.

"Give up on them, Lentils." My head imagined Wicks saying.

I sighed, taking slow steps ahead. They aren't like Claudia and Drake. I can't just...

Every bone in my stupid little body refused to give up. There were times, I wanted to, it's probably my need to prove people wrong.

Or a strong strive for self worth.

I faced the apartment building.

Do you really want to do that for Lev, Lynette? He's done nothing for you. Lately, he'd been getting on everyone's nerves like he was a harpist plucking at strings correlated to each of us.

I assumed it was for his entertainment.

Alexander didn't seem to care about Lev, unlike Drake. He complained about Lev every other weekend. The only person Alexander complains about is me. I shoved my hands in my hoodie pockets. Not that I'm any better sometimes.

I approached the opulent C.P.P.A. apartment complex known as New Horizons Complex. It resembled a high-class hotel. Big and grand imposing architectural jetted features. The balconies elegantly overlooking the parking lots and lush greens leading to the small lake across the way.

This is such a beautiful place, especially up close.

I walked to the entrance that was adorned with my favorite, pink knockout roses. I lacked the green thumb required to grow them myself.

I stopped next to the wall by the sliding doors. My phone buzzed erratically in my sweater pocket right under my fingers.

I rested back on the white wall, to use the shade of the under hang to read the messages easier.

I hope they're not canceling today.

I unlocked my phone and saw it was the pizzeria group chat. Most of us didn't talk much in the main chat unless Edgar made an announcement or someone brought something to everyone's attention.

Unlike our night crew chat. Our chat consisted of mocking, bets, or Claudia and Drake sending memes.

Is this about the resort?

Edgar: Hello everyone! I know I told those affected and wanted to keep it a secret for everyone else. However, I have been reminded I'd need to tell everyone to come in at the same time, much like the festivals, at 8 a.m. Thus, on this coming Saturday, we will be going to my wife's resort to serve our pizza that night for a celebration, and the day after you'll be free to explore! Technically, the morning of the first day will also be a free to roam period after the tour! 11:30 a.m.

June: 🤗 I get to hang out and see all my friends, sweeeeet!!! 11:30 a.m.

Alexander: 👍 11:30 a.m.

Viola: 👍 11:31 a.m.

Elliot: 👍 11:31 a.m.

Tila: 👍 11:31 a.m.

Lev messaged before I joined the chain.

Lev: Will we be sharing rooms again? 11:32 a.m.

Edgar: The top floor will belong to us, exactly 10 rooms. So, June and Elliot, Tila and Claudia, Zilla and Zane, and Alexander and Lynette will be sharing with one another. 11:33 a.m.

June: Yay!!! 11:33 a.m.

Zane: Bunking with my dear sister again 😍 11:34 a.m.

Zilla: Great 🙄 11:34 a.m.

Zane: 🥺 11:34 a.m.

Alexander: 👎 11:35 a.m.

I was tempted to put a thumbs down emoji too.

Edgar: Be nice guys. I put you together based on your current supervisor status. 11:35 a.m.

Drake: What he said out loud wasn't nice. 11:35 a.m.

Alexander: DON'T. 11:35 a.m.

I wasn't amused. I take back everything I was thinking earlier.

Edgar: Be civil. 11:36 a.m.

Tila: That's still one person without a roommate. 11:36 a.m.

Edgar: You're all adults so I trust you'll be fine if I share a room with my wife on the floor below. You'll have moderate supervision as Sandra and Tristan are on your floor. 11:37 a.m.

Edgar: If not I can share a room up there with Drake. 11:37 a.m.

Drake: We're adults.👍 11:38 a.m.

Edgar: Great! If you all have any questions or concerns let me know! 11:38 a.m.

Everyone gave a thumbs-up, including myself. I can't wait to talk to Wicks about that more tonight.

I pushed off the wall and twisted to the main entrance—they were sliding doors, similar to those at hotels and stores. I expected passcodes, or having to ring to get let in. Since most of the c.p.p.a. members live here, it'd be crazy to try and break in.

It opened to a main lobby. A few residents or those I assumed were residents, talking amongst one another on armchairs, holding drinks they got from the giant fridge with glass doors near them. There was a counter with coffee and ingredients for that, too.

I barely shifted my gaze to the right to see a front desk because someone's yell interrupted my thoughts and shoved down the softer ambiance.

"GINKOOSE!"

I watched Garter's lanky yet fit body throw itself over the counter.

My fingers itched for my knife as he ran at me. I was used to him running at me during training. I settled down once he overtook me in a giant hug. He lifted me off the ground as he did so.

He pressed me into his uniform so I couldn't turn my head.

"Nice to see you too, Garter." I said, unable to move my arms up to hug back because he pinned them.

He squeezed tight.

He's acting like he hasn't seen me in years when we trained yesterday. I welcomed his affection regardless.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, resting his chin on my head.

I stared at the painting on the wall beside the front desk, unable to look anywhere else. "I'm here to see Claudia and Tila; we're having a girl's day."

I felt Garter's snicker vibrate across my dome. "You're seeing the funny girl with those extra super long noodle arms and the other with dead eyes?"

Tila's eyes aren't that dead...well she does lack emotion most of the time unless she's talking about monster-related jabber.

"Yeah," I agreed, "also, those are Claudia's wings."

"They don't have feathers."

"Some wings don't have feathers!" I said. I pressed at his guard uniform, trying to tilt my head to see him. I moved my toes like they were on the ground and could help me.

"And Garter, I love hugs and all, but I also like being on the ground too."

Garter denied my request. "No, I'll carry you all the way up." His long, straight black hair slapped my face when he shook his head no.

I squirmed further, "Garter," and blew at his hair over me.

Another voice called from the counter, "Not without checking her in!"

I couldn't see them properly but figured they were the second guard at the desk alongside Garter.

"Fiiiiiine."

Garter loosened his grip, bending himself enough so my tippy toes could touch the ground.

He let go, and my tennis shoes plopped against the floor. Ah, hello, my old friend. I looked at my feet, doing a little march, enjoying the solid ground beneath me.

Garter left my side, going back behind the counter. I tracked him and scanned over their computer, mailboxes holding several names, and the large digital clock.

I smiled at the guy beside him. He reminds me of Wicks with those dark, deep, dark circles under his...wait, whoa. His eyes were the faintest green I had ever seen, a mint-ish color opposite my dark ones.

He reflected back a customer service smile. "You guys know each other, huh?"

He brushed some of his long blonde bangs behind his ear, disregarding the messy bun his hair tie barely kept back.

"Yeah!! I train her!"

"Reeeally?" The male leaned further over the counter to look at me. He was not as tall as Garter, but was he closer to Lev or Alexander's height?

Garter answered, "She's a classless."

That's right. The other lie I was told was to tell someone if they asked. I'm a "classless magus in training classless."

I bobbed my head, "yep."

He raised a brow, skeptically glancing from Garter then to me. "I see..."

Can he tell I'm not? Don't most monsters think I'm a magus because of my energy?

There were exceptions—Drake and Alexander, who said they could tell the truth immediately. The others admitted they wouldn't have known if Alexander wasn't the one to invite me.

The pale guy scratched the back of his neck and shrugged, "Well, if you know her, I should look over her to prevent biases." He beckoned me to get closer to the counter and walked to the open side.

Garter obediently waited behind it.

When I closed our distance, he pressed his lips together like he swallowed a container of torpedo's sour candy.

"Are you alright?" I sheepishly asked.

Though kind, he weakly nodded, and his smile made him look like he was baring his teeth at me.

Are those fangs? Is he a vampire? Or a vampire beast like Drake? It would explain why he'd doubt me being part of the C.P.P.A.

No, he doesn't have red eyes.

"Do you have any magic items on you?" He held up a hand before I could speak, "Any that you aren't using for impaired assistance? If so, you'll have to leave them here and retrieve them once you leave."

He said it in a calm and rehearsed apologetic manner.

I undid my holster and handed it off to him. "I only have this," Wicks told me they'd have to take it when I visited Claudia and Tila.

They were both here on a reform list. Claudia for lying about her certification to work, and Tila for helping her get the c.p.p.a certification illegally.

And Tila got that from Zetsu. I hadn't seen him since what happened with Andras. I hope he's doing okay. Last I heard from Wicks, he was going to go through the reform and was staying here too.

The male took it gently, avoiding my touch. Like Alexander does or did, especially when we first met.

He handed it to Garter, who put it in a locked safe under their desk. Without fully looking at me, he asked, "Are there any other weapons on you, magic or not?"

I shook my head, "no."

His head tilted slightly, something I associated with Drake, and took my answer after, "Okay."

While he pulled a stamp pad out from one of the drawers, I curiously whispered as quietly as possible. "Were you listening to my heartbeat?"

He half-smirked and opened the breast pocket of his black security guard uniform. It drew my eyes to his name badge that read Giovanni and then to the stamp he retrieved. "You've met another vampire, huh?"

"A friend I work with is a vampire beast."

He pressed the stamp into the neon pink ink pad, "Ah, the bigger, battier versions of us?" I contained my giggle, and he put the back of his hand on his forehead. "Sorry, that was stupid."

"It was funny," I reassured him, looking over his features again as I lifted my hand to allow him to stamp it. "Are you wearing a human case to look normal?"

"For my ears, yeah," Drake told me that normal vampires have much bigger and pointer ears.

"Not your eyes?"

He pressed the stamp down firmly. "Not all vampires have the same eye colors if you're wondering why they aren't blue, brown, or stuff like that." He lifted it up and inspected the stamp. "Our eyes are usually lighter during the day if that's throwing you off."

I looked at it when he was satisfied and read the words 'Visitor Pass' in a faint pink glow.

"I didn't know vampires had different eye colors. All his family has red."

Giovanni chuckled, "Ha, yeah, vampire red." When our eyes met, his smile lowered, "You're serious? I've never seen a vampire with red before." Is Drake really unusual for that? "Besides the vampires in those cheesy movies."

"You're talking about the ones your sister married?" Garter asked.

GARTER. Don't talk about that here; he doesn't know Wicks and I are related.

"Yeah," I tried to change the subject. I tapped the mark on the back of my hand. "Is there anything else I need to know, Giovanni?" I shouldn't have said his name like we're friends!

His brows knit, confused at first, and his head looked down at his badge.

"That mark means you are free to go. Garter will escort you to the room." He gestured for Garter to come over. "Once you enter the room, the mark will alert us and tell us who you're visiting. Do not go out in the hall too much unless you want to leave, because we'll know. And you won't be able to stay the night if you're visiting a reformie. Visiting hours last from 10 a.m. - 7 p.m."

I understood. "Thank you." I looked at Garter, "I am ready when-" Again, he scooped me up when Giovanni side-stepped out of the way.

...

Viola couldn't make it, nor could her partner Elise. I still didn't know if I wanted to meet her since Drake looked annoyed whenever she was mentioned.

I gathered he refused to get along with her because she was a giver.

Knowing what Drake used to do for Andras, I understood why he disliked anyone else offering their blood to him or other people. He also, much like myself, doesn't want to be seen as weak and needing handouts.

Without them, our group consisted of Claudia, Zilla, Tila, and me. Beatrice wasn't invited because, as Tila said, "I'd never have that wasp in my home."

Their apartment was a blend of contemporary chaos—modern furnishings littered with whimsical clutter.

Papers were stacked haphazardly on several of their end tables, and glass coffee table in front of the T.V.

I pivoted around the pages at my feet. They mainly were handwritten notes, sketches, and half-finished manuscripts. Scattered amongst those were books—vividly illustrated about monsters, all colorful compared to the room's neutral palette.

I peeked at the few lying open, seeing...intricate details of monsters and their eerie habitats.

I saw the familiar shelving unit behind the velvet couch where Zilla and the pillow pile stayed. It was barren compared to the one I visited at Claudia's home months ago. It held a small collection of bundled dried herbs, giving the area an earthy scent like I was ripe for a burial. That's in bad taste! Think of Claudia.

I sat at the top of the pillow pile, soon falling over when Claudia defied me for the throne.

Most of our time together, we watched terrible movies. Claudia brought out some cake she got during a C.P.P.A. bake sale. All of us got our picks ready for the T.V.

However, after finishing my first thin slice of the absolutely delicious satiny vanilla cake with whipped cream topping, strawberries, and homemade strawberry glaze, I was told I had to stop due to the energy content. I still fought to have the crumbs, and Claudia cruelly licked all the plates clean in front of me.

I see why Xander calls you a little demon. I joked in my head.

The first movie was from Claudia; she misunderstood the game and picked her favorite and beloved classic, Alone Abode. I chose one of the worst Super Rangers movies I could think of. It made the characters act incredibly and uncharacteristically dumb. They would never openly play soccer by the cage that held Froinlee, nor would they put the goal right next to it and risk hitting the release button!

Tila picked a monster movie to criticize the hunters and the monsters throughout it. It sparked all of us to join her, even though it was clear Claudia and I were making up facts, and that sent Tila to the moon with frustration.

Zilla's movie later sparked an idea in Claudia's head. Hers was about a hair salon that had to do a thousand haircuts in a week to save it. They used crazy tools to make themselves faster and, at one point, accidentally murdered a client and stole their money to make quota.

Claudia, now inspired once the movie finished, popped off the couch and stared at Zilla. Claudia clearly intended to make her wild mane of fluffy, razor-cut hair into her new muse.

"You have a lot of hair," Her mischievous grin was in full swing.

Holding a pair of scissors in one hand, Claudia snipped at the air.

Zila flipped her hair back over her shoulder, "you're not cutting my hair."

"But," she flashed her best puppy dog eyes.

"Besides the fact that Zane would absolutely kill you for undoing his handy work," Zilla ran her fingers through her locks, "I love the style. It fits my band's brand."

Band? I sat up on the couch, "you have a band?"

Zilla's violet hue shifted to me, "fuck yeah I do. Our temp name is The Outer Shells. We're small now, but I've been doing a few gigs here and there. That's where the pizzeria money goes."

Huh. I hadn't spent much of the money I made. I've only been paying my half of the rent, buying a few clothes, and sometimes groceries. The biggest purchases I made recently were a few new indie games.

Curiously, I asked, "Do you have any shows coming up? I'd love to see you."

Turned to me on the couch, she half chuckled, "You'd wanna come see me perform?"

I faced her back, "I can tell you have strong vocals by the way you talk, so it'd be a treat to hear you in action." I wonder if Wicks would want to go to that.

Zilla's confident bravado fled. Her face almost looked innocent.

She smiled, though sheepish, playing with the hair behind her ear. "We have a show coming up, so if you're…" She paused. Her enthusiasm drained. Something was wrong. What happened?

Her eyelids fell, and her eyes darted back and forth. She contemplated her next string of words.

Her speech slightly slurred, "You know, I'm not s-so s-sure the shows are quite your style." Zilla turned back up to see me.

I didn't know what suddenly changed her mind. Is she worried about me? Why? Is it because there are monsters there?

"Even if I don't quite like the genre of music, I-"

"You shouldn't come." Zilla interrupted me sharply, almost like she was…pleading? She puckered her lips and turned away, her heels tapping against the wood floor. "Forget I said anything." Her smile returned faintly, and she shook her head. "You'd get eaten alive at our shows."

I accepted it. "I'll take your word for it."

Zilla hadn't cared much in the past if someone suggested I go somewhere with monsters. There's also no way she's worried I won't like it. She's too confident for that.

Claudia, who failed to convince Tila to get her hair cut, moved to me. She stood at the couch, her face beaming as she hummed my name, "Hey, Lyneeeeetttteee."

I don't like when people do that anymore. Lev always hummed my name like that, so I only thought of him when someone else did.

"Yes, Claudia?"

"Can I give your hair a snip?" She snapped her scissors together, not that far from my face.

Do I really have to agree to this? She's my friend. I scanned the cluttered apartment, hoping to find some small hiding space, but Claudia and I had a small height gap. There was nowhere I could go that she couldn't. I'm also sure she's lighter than me.

She tapped the closed scissors on my head, "Lynette?"

I gave her an excuse, "My hair's pretty curly; it'll probably be difficult to cut for your first time." I had my dad's curls, though my mom's hair genes kept them from being as bad as his. From what I remember, her hair was straight or maybe not? Why can't I picture it?

It hurt to think harder about it. My mind wanted to linger on everything else that happened. It was a wretched, physical pain I couldn't fully comfort. That's why I'm grateful for Madre and them. They soothed it, and as weird as it was, most of the morning crew, Claudia, Garter, and Drake, did too.

Claudia had moved during my silence. She stole Tila's desk chair and wheeled it to me. She patted the seat. "I don't know if I can until I try."

I looked at the seat and then back up at her, "What if I say no?"

"You won't." She repeated the phrase she heard Wicks use on me, "because you love me."

I chortled and shifted my butt from the couch to the desk chair, "you are a friend I care for." I didn't quite say love yet. I valued my time with Claudia, especially outside work, as she often brought a playful spirit to the pizzeria.

Wicks would get jealous if I told another friend I loved them anyway. I smiled, holding in a laugh.

She swiveled the chair and pushed it forward, rolling me through the apartment. She narrowly avoided a few books and got me over the bump leading into their guest bathroom.

"Claudia, be careful with my chair!" Tila shouted as she and Zilla followed.

The fae positioned me over the sink at the mirror. "Perfect!"

I let her brush through the few tangles in my hair.

She got ready to cut, and I peered at her in the mirror.

My body stiffened when I saw her wings coming out of her human case. She handed the scissors off to one clawed hand, and the other grabbed the top of my head to keep me still.

"hey," I attempted to hide my distrust and flinched at the first snip. "Claudia, are you sure it's a good idea to use your wings to give me a haircut?"

No matter how much I wanted to support her, at the same time, I liked my head attached to my neck.

"Don't worry if I mess up, I'll brew a hair growth potion so all your hair will grow back super fast!"

I was relieved. "Oh, good…" Then my shoulders slouched slightly, "Claudia, do you mean ALL my hair or just the hair on my head?"

She continued snipping with wild abandon—bits of my curls flew about. "What do you mean? Do you grow hair in other places?"

Behind sealed lips, I let out a muffled scream in anguish. If Claudia messes up, I either tell her it's okay and I'm left with bald spots, or I take the potion and become bigfoot. My lip quivered. They'd probably all make fun of me at work and me smallfoot.

Tila, who bobbed her head, watching Claudia's cuts, responded. "Humans grow hair all over their bodies, including their face, arms, legs, armpits, back, privates, and feet. Some abundances vary depending on their genetic make-up."

Claudia detested that claim by poking my cheek. "Lynette doesn't have hair anywhere else," she slid the normal hand down my face like she was going over a countertop for dust. "She's smooth."

I exhaled, feeling partially embarrassed, "I don't really get anything on my face, but I still shave everywhere else."

Claudia's face read betrayal—for a few seconds—it quickly returned to her factory reset joy. "Ooooh, yeah, you're going to be coooovered in hair. Like a stupid amount." She did a few more snips. "That means I can cut more after!"

I immediately begged. "Or-or-OR, you can do an amazing job today and I can come back to you next time I need a cut!"

"DEAL!"

...

I planned to stay longer, picking at what remained of my curls.

"It looks better than I anticipated," Tila said, eyeing it.

My head was lighter, for sure. I hadn't had my hair this short since I was little. I usually kept it at mid-back for prime braiding, but now it barely reached my shoulders.

"She has talent," I said, heavily impressed that she had cut it coherently in a V shape. Didn't I cut it all wrong the first time I tried cutting hair?

I moved to tug another curl and was reminded of what Zilla said about Lev's nervous habit. My gaze shifted to Tila next to me. She was pushing around her two giant and curled piggy tails on either side of her head.

She's the best person to ask about the Underkin thing.

I casually pulled back from the sink, avoiding the tufts of my hair on the ground. "Uh…you know a lot about monsters, right?"

Her eyelids drooped, matching her sudden frown. "Are you attempting to insult me?"

I denied it adamantly, "No, I-I-uh-" Way to go, Lynette. I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts, "Sorry, no. I wanted to ask if you, perhaps, know anything about underkin?" There has to be a reason Lev gets touchy with them.

Tila was quiet. She's never quiet.

I looked back at her, expecting something akin to disgust.

Instead, her eyes flooded with emotion. These were much wider and more expressive than her usual sarcastic or dead eyes.

Her small, tight lips grinned. "KNOW THEM?" Her exasperated and excited huff sent her smile higher, looking far creepier than she intended. "It's been some time, but our species were once well acquainted. We were even considered 'kin' to them." Her feet stammered in joy.

"Our history goes way back to the first Underkin born of the higher being, Dra. They were of his kin, unable to use magic, unlike the Tamielkin with flames, Obracikin with water-" she wheezed a chuckle, "You get it."

She tapped her chin, "Underkin were around when Escora, like me, were heavily hunted," She shifted her head to each shoulder, "A few thousand or so years ago?"

A few thousand or so? A thousand years is not a few. "Right, right, just a few." I laid my back on the wall near the light switch and door.

Tila agreed, nodding, "The first Underkin swore to help one of my kind, and because of its heavy exposure doing so, it became what most beings call a "magic eater"."

Some take magic, too? "There are monsters that eat magic?"

Tila laughed, slapping the counter lightly, "Oh no. Magic is volatile. Why do you think people get hurt by it. No other monster has successfully been able to absorb or eat magic quite like them. It's said to work because their scales are-"

Claudia's voice popped beside me, making me jump off the wall. She leaned her head through the door. She escorted Zilla out after Zane called and begged her to go back home.

"There's a monster that eats MAGIC??!" Her different-colored eyes sparkled in wonder.

"Do you know nothing of-" Tila turned her head and sighed, "No, your coven told you very little, didn't they." She cursed under her breath. "Such barbaric ways."

Impatiently, Claudia gripped my shoulders from behind, softly shaking me while talking to Tila. "I wanna know about the monster!"

Tila continued, looking at me and ignoring Claudia. "Underkin were known for their beautiful black jade-like scales, dark as the night." She lifted her hand and waved it in front of us. Unlike Magus's, I noticed other monsters like her didn't need their eyes to glow when they used it.

In the air, black dust expelled from her fingertips. It took shape as she watched it, forming into a dragon, different from what I had seen in books. It's so realistic yet small.

Claudia and I trailed it with our eyes.

"Overtime, their scales got faintly lighter, as taking magic is no easy task." The dragon's pigment shifted slowly. "Their bodies adapted to more of a dark midnight blue."

"I'VE SEEN ONE BEFORE!" Claudia exclaimed, going closer to the figment. "On Yexodele, before I met you, I saw one in the sky..." She sulked, putting her chin on my shoulder, "Hendra had one of their arms too."

Tila yanked her hand back, and the dragon projection vanished. "AN ARM?" She spat in disgust. "So she killed one?"

Claudia shrugged, "I guess so…"

From what I knew, Hendra was a different kind of collector than Andras. Andras would rent or sell monsters off, while Hendra tore them apart for stronger pieces to add to her body.

Claudia lifted her head and sliced the air, "That must be how she cut mine before. She used that arm to take my magic."

Tila's nose wrinkled, " Like us, Underkin were hunted when monsters found out their scales held so much value." She looked out the bathroom door. "Not a single species can do what they can, absorbing and using the magic they get from another." She turned back to us, "Amalgamations are the only other species that come close, but they're magic-resistant."

I took it all in the best I could. Being a magic eater would make fights easier. I joked in my head. That doesn't explain why Lev dislikes them or doesn't look very Drakin-like.

"Lev's a Drakin, too, yeah? I didn't know they looked like dragons since Lev doesn't."

Has Lev ever said anything about that?

I brought a snicker to her face, sardonic as it sounded. "Oh. That's not his actual form. Drakin's adapted much smaller ones, which is probably how you've seen him. From what I understand, they tried to look friendlier to the magus we had living amongst us at the time."

"Magus's lived with you guys, too?"

"Yes, back when Magus's had no means to defend themselves against monsters, magic or otherwise." She lifted her head proudly. "My species taught them how to drain energy as well." She let out a breath. "And because Drakin's are one of the biggest species to ever exist on Yexodele, they couldn't fit into most places, as the average monster stands between fifteen and thirty-five feet. Thus, they created a smaller form. It works in their favor when fighting opponents like Magus's, and they're stronger because their bodies are condensed down."

So, how big is Lev?

"How did you know about Underkin anyway?" Tila finally questioned.

I glanced at Claudia, who looked like she was trying to measure the heights in her head. Claudia might tell Lev if I say it's because of how he acted hearing the name.

"Just wondering about different species besides Lev's." That didn't answer her question, and I waited for her to say that.

"Okay."

Okay? She accepted that?

She pointed at the back of my hand, and I peered down to see the "visitor pass" flashing.

"What-?"

We all heard a knock at the door after, and Claudia raced to answer. Tila's pressed her hand at my shoulder, stopping me.

"Did you hear it from Lev?"

She knows I didn't want to say it with Claudia around.

"Yeah. I don't think Lev likes them. He looks like he wants to kill me when I say Underkin."

Tila's hand slipped from my shoulder, "Tamielkin don't have a good history with Underkin because Underkin would pretend to-" Tila raised her finger, dropped it, raised it once more, and continued to do it several more times. Eventually, she let out her inquiry. "Lynette, you've seen Lev's form before, correct?"

"Y-yes? Red scales." I confirmed nervously.

"Any trim around his scales? Or do they jet out more than usual?" She did a slightly tilted pose with her hands, "possibly stick up a little?"

I couldn't remember now that I was being prosecuted. "Possibly? I think they have a slightly darker outline?" It's not like I had much time to get a good look at them; I was usually more focused on what he was doing than how he looked.

Her ever-serious gaze consumed her once excited glow. Garter's voice at the door asking for me interrupted our conversation. She cleared her throat. "Thank you."

I quickly looked back at her standing in the door frame, "is everything okay?"

"Fine as always," her eyes darted behind me, and I tensed up. "Lynette."

Garter grabbed me and twirled me around until he could adequately hug me. "Time to go!"

"Garter, hey!" I kicked my feet lightly in protest as he waddled toward their front door with me.

"I can walk on my own!" I shouted in defiance. Claudia teased me in the background, laughing aloud and waving goodbye.

On the other hand, Tila pushed her chair back to her desk and ordered Claudia to clean up the mess in the bathroom.

When Garter and I left their apartment, there was a sudden weight of anxiety stirring in my stomach.

Why do I feel like this is going to come back and bite me later?

...

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. I'm glad I put out a story that people can enjoy! I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable, as always~).

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below ↓ ↓ ↓

What I’d do for a Livable Income Part 2 (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

#widfali #vore story #fantasy story #writblr #sfw vore #nonsexual vore

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spenglercore · 1 year ago

Note

Omggg I was gonna send you some asks about Egon headcanons and completely forgot lol

So I saw you headcanon Egon as autistic and wanted to know what kinds of stims you headcanon him to do/have! Also as a bonus what kind of fidgets do you think would work best for him? Because we all know those are hot and miss and not everything works for everybody 😂

It's funny, I had a bit about him being on the spectrum to be widely accepted fanon in the last ask, but trimmed it bc I'd already written a novel.

Stims are one thing I've actually put a lot of thought into as far as his character, cos like you said, they differ from person to person. I stim very differently from my spouse, lmao.

Finger tapping is one that he actually does in the first film; he's tapping his fingers on the surveyor's tape measure he's holding when they first got to the firehouse, and I feel like that's also pretty common. This was also my jumping-off point for a few of his other physical stims.

More under the cut!

So alongside finger tapping, I often see him doing the classic idle leg bounce. Both are mundane and fairly ubiquitous even among NT people, so he doesn't feel the need to actively resist or stop himself. Both motions tap into his sense of proprioception in a very pleasant way. Something about the motion coupled with the resistance of changing direction rapidly just pings his brain Just Right. Another thing that stems from that, but one that he's learned to hide after one too many times getting mocked for it is dancing. I hc he learned to dance as a kid because well, in the late 40s and into the 50s that's just. What one learned to do, and in the first film it's stated that he and the others danced with some people at a club called The Rose. He enjoys the movement for the same reasons he taps his fingers or bounces his leg; there's motion through space, a sort of resistive feeling when there's a change in direction due to inertia, the impact of his feet on the ground. But he only dances whenever he's sure he's alone, so nobody really knows about it and they actually assume he can't dance, especially because he dislikes having to dance with a complete stranger, so his movements become stilted and almost robotic because the proximity to someone he's unfamiliar with.

You get him in the same room with someone he's comfortable with though and it's a different story >:)

Dancing as a stim also leads very nicely into his auditory stim. He's a Song Repeater of the highest caliber, and the music that tickles his brain is very much not what people expect. He tends to gravitate toward songs that have sounds more toward the lower ranges that feel 'fuller' sound-wise. Songs like Don't Bring Me Down by ELO, Gimme Some Lovin' by Spencer Davis Group, and The Loco-Motion by Grand Funk Railroad is one he listened to so much in college that Ray will change the station or turn off the radio outright if it comes on. But anything with a sort of 'heavy' or 'bouncy' feel to it, especially if it has repetitive or broad cyclic elements is going to get his attention most of the time.

He's also got a tactile stim with a bit of a story behind it, but I'll save that for another ask bc it's 1: Long and 2: Involves my headcanons for the kind of people his parents were. So, in lieu of any sort of purpose-made fidget toy, he's almost always got a rocker switch in his pocket:

The motion of clicking it back and forth is very pleasant to him, and he also likes the feel of the switch's smooth, concave profile and sometimes just runs his thumb along the curve rather than actually clicking the switch over. It's small enough to keep in his pocket or even just hold in his hand while he messes with it, and doesn't attract attention. And most importantly it's not loud. I definitely feel like he's one of those people who would have to be physically restrained from attempting to murder the pen-clicker in the room because it feels like someone stabbing him in the brain with a pencil repeatedly. Bad Noise(tm).

#asks #nonbinaryvulcan #headcanons #egon spengler #autism stims

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blueberryjam1201 · 1 year ago

Text

Unexpected

Genre: drama, comedy

Warning: many facts changed for story development purposes!

This is a fanfic based on Doh KyungSoo(D.O. from EXO) Expectations Highlight Medley. I was fascinated by the story in the video and as a person with a vivid imagination, I started to develop the topic in my head to such an extent that I needed to write it down. Please be aware I am not a professional writer, this was created for fun!

The story is much longer than in the medley so I'll separate it into a few chapters.

I hope you will enjoy the ride! ❤️

Prologue

"...we were strong,

The strongest it was ever possible...

We were the mountain in the middle of a dark ocean of the wildest woods,

The enchanted future we expected to spend together...

...ah...

...why...?

How did we end up like this...?"

The voice of a young man rumbled with bitterness in his head. He didn't hear anything else. Walking on nighttime empty streets of Seoul's suburbs. This dark street, barely lightened by old lamps, was carrying another memory. Every corner of this town did. KyungSoo, that was his name, the man whose eyes still could see her walking next to him. His world just crumbled apart...

Chapter 1

Under the cut 👇🏻

-... I was thinking of asking you, but that's not a good idea *ha ha ha* - A loud laugh just shattered on the white corridor walls. Doors in also white color were open. Inside the changing room for celebrities, two men were chatting together. Best friends, discussing the latest events. The room's walls were white coffee colors. In the center, there were two sets of white couches and black, wood tables facing each other as in the mirror image, creating a footpath just in between. On the wall, opposite the doors was a long row of wood tables and black chairs scattered around like whoever was using them forgot to slide them back under. Above the tables were mirrors, hung next to each other. On the right side was a long stand with clothes prepared for the next idol's performance.

- You'd make my song too emotional, can't be bothered with that - laughed the tall one sitting on the first chair from right side. His name was Chanyeol, KyungSoo's best friend. Kyungsoo was sitting at the table on the left side of the room. He was smiling but his eyes were telling about irritation.

- Because the lyrics are about the difficult breakup, it should be emotional... Creams are happy with their songs...- said with an unmoved tone.

- Right! They are doing great, I swear! - Chanyeol admitted while pointing his fingers at the door as if this girl group was standing there. - you fitted the songs so well for them -

- Because they're not "fitted", the manager banned me from giving any archive songs, so I had to create new ones, especially for Creams -

- That's bad, I bet you have lots of great songs written, but can't use them - After saying those words Chanyeol's smile disappeared from his face and he continued - are you planning to use them for yourself? - looked at KyungSoo and the silence fell over the room. KyungSoo was gazing at his hands while looking for the best answer:

- No...It's fine, they will be waiting for the next idol...-

- Bollocks!- a friend raised voice while swinging his head forward - You'd be great! but...- then leaned comfortably on the chair - anyways...it's your decision. Do whatever you want - and stopped here, as he knew he'd say too much if he would continue.

KyungSoo without any further discussion stood from his seat and started to walk to the doors, asking: are you going?

Chanyeol then smiled and did the same. When they opened the door, just at this moment the girl group walked by together with two men looking like security. Both are tall, well-built, and equipped with a utility belt and black body armor.

Just behind the 5 young girls, the manager was walking. Middle height, middle age. Wrinkles under his eyes were representing more of his personality than age. He glanced at KyungSoo for a long second and suddenly smirked while turning his head forward. Kyungsoo was just watching him without any visible reaction. Then, both he and Chanyeol stepped outside of the room and followed the group.

*click click click*

the sound echoed in the corridor.

- Chanyeol! Oh God, this is unbelievable! -

a female voice shouted. She suddenly appeared next to the friend's couple, this maybe 25 or 28-year-old girl, and started to take pictures with the camera. Chanyeol was posing while KyungSoo stepped back so he wouldn't be in view. She reacted:

- What are you doing? Come here! - and pointed by her hand on the spot next to his friend.

- I'm not an idol though-

- Sorry, what's your name? -

- Doh KyungSoo- he almost whispered

- It's shocking! I thought you're one of the idols, you look great - she smiles after finishing the sentence.

- I'm going first, can't be late, OK? - said Chanyeol and waved his hand in a "goodbye" manner then walked away.

The photographer needed a longer time to consider what she should do from now on.

- You're not going with them? - asked after long seconds.

- I'm not in a hurry, the performance will be later - and smiled shyly at her, waiting for a reaction.

- I should go because I still have a lot of content to do. See you later! - and she runs forward, slowly disappearing from his view. He was standing in silence for a long second, then decided to move as well.

Later, in the control booth, KyungSoo together with 3 other staff was preparing for the performance which will take place next 20 minutes. KyungSoo standing in the back, looking at the other coworkers, making sure everything is under control.

- Don't...!- he raised his voice but then hesitated - ...Don't use the middle lamp, it will make them dazzle, it's too strong -

- Oh, you're right. Sorry! - answered the one sitting on the left side of the controller and twisted one of the caps. KyungSoo came near and looked at the soundboard.

- That should be ok - said and raised his head to look at the scene behind the wide window. The view was incredible. Hundreds of seats in red colour as well as the carpet. Approximately 10 step stairs led to a stage top, 2 pairs, one on the left, second on the right. The massive curtains that split the stage and hidden the other half were in navy blue colour. Suddenly, the door was opened and the photographer girl from before came in.

- Hi, would you mind if I make a few shots? -

All of them looked at her with many questions in their eyes.

- What for? - finally, the one sitting just at the right end of the controller broke the silence.

She smiled happily and said:

- It's mostly for my portfolio, but we may be using them later, of course with your permission only! - then stuck her camera to her smiling face and pressed the button to make a picture.

KyungSoo wasn't happy. He looked at the girl resentfully, but when he was about to start talking, the doors opened again...

It was the manager, who casually walked in.

Without any word, he stood next to KyungSoo and looked behind the window, then started:

- All prepared? -

- Yes, we just finished. The program is starting next 5 minutes, we are ready -

Then manager looked at KyungSoo out of the corner of his eye.

- Did you imagine?...- he grunted. Surprised KyungSoo asked: Excuse me?

- Did you imagine yourself there? - those words were like a knife straight into KyungSoo's heart. He barely managed to stay calm:

- Why would I do such a thing? -

- We both know this could have been your stage, but with your attitude, we would need a mask or dubler - then smiled like it was the best joke he could ever think of.

- You would be hidden behind the scenes and gi...-

- Can you...!- KyungSoo interrupted him, but backed off the next second, then finished with a low tone voice:

- It's not the best time, leave it manager Kim...-

The smile wasn't coming off the manager's face, but he did do as he was told. KyungSoo suddenly turned around and saw the photographer still standing there with a frightened face.

- Do you need to be here? - asked. She then, without any word opened the door and walked away.

The performance was glamorous. Creams have shown spectacular shows and gathered hundreds of fans cheering for them singing their producer's songs. After the show, the audience started to walk away, and staff rolled up the equipment or cleaned the stage. Two friends, Chanyeol and KyungSoo walked into the theatre by the backstage doors. Suddenly, Chanyeol stopped:

- KyungSoo-yah, sorry! - and fold his hands as if in prayer - I forgot I promised Sue I'll show her some things online and take her back home, you know what I mean - and stick out his tongue flirtatiously

- Sorry, I promise I'll pay you back double for today! - and run back to the backstage leaving KyungSoo alone.

He wasn't upset, he wasn't even sure if he was bothered about it. This was a long, difficult day and the only thing he wished for was going back home and lying in his comfy bed. He turned around and walked towards the main entrance, but then...sudden hunch told him to stop. In the middle row, just on the first seat next to him was the photographer girl, looking at the camera and sliding photos. She wept silently...her right hand was holding her head widely to cover part of her face. KyungSoo looked at her in silence, why the sudden need to speak to her? It's not his business, and they don't know each other...why the hesitation to just walk away?

- What? - she asked, while still covering her face and looking at the camera. KyungSoo was looking for the best question to ask. Then after a couple of seconds, he goes:

- You're not going home? -

It wasn't the best choice of question, but it just flew somehow from his mouth, surprising himself.

- ...are you hungry?- she asked without moving an inch from her last position, making him step back and open his eyes widely out of shock:

- W..well...I didn't plan it, but I can grab a takeaway if...that's OK? - almost whispered, still mesmerized. Suddenly she smiled and looked at him:

- Then let's go, what was your name again? KyungSoo, the producer of Creams? I like it! My name is YiSeul, the photographer in training - she smiled gracefully even though the tears were still lying gently on her cheeks. That made him smile happily for a second. This wasn't in the scenario. Meeting her that day wasn't planned at all, but even if he was tired, this new colleague seemed like the best companion after this long, demanding day.

It's only today! They will never meet again, so why not?

Won't they?

#kdrama #doh kyungsoo #do kyung soo #exo do kyungsoo #d.o. kyungsoo #do kyungsoo #exo kyungsoo #kyungsoo #highlight medley #exo d.o.#exo d.o #d.o.#expectations #fanfic

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honeyhobi · 1 year ago

Note

For the ask game you know who I'm gonna do...Spider, sixteen.

Put That Guy In a Situation™️ Ask Game

Crossposted on AO3

16. Meeting past/future self + Spider Socorro

A/N: What are the plot redefining implications of the RDA somehow getting their hands on time traveling technology, you ask? Shrugs, try not to think about it too hard. Enjoy!

Content warnings for implied abuse and non-con.

“Ready or not, here I come!” Spider calls, jumping down from his perch in a tree where he'd been counting with his forehead pressed against the trunk.

He listens to the breeze whistling through the branches; runs his hands along the tall greenery and giggles as a kenten takes flight in a colorful swirl, away from his curious fingers. Hide and Seek is his favorite game to play in the forest. He likes seeking more than hiding, because no matter how still he is or how quiet he tries to be, the others always seem to find him first. But when he’s the one seeking, it’s like he is an equal. He is the hunter, ears strained and eyes hyper focused for any signs of his prey.

Neteyam’s been teaching him how to track using displaced soil and the positions of the plants. It’s hard work, but it comes in handy for games like this. Spider gets close to the ground, studying the grass that's at eye level with him. Movement in the corner of his eye has his head snapping up, but it’s only a couple of syaksyuk swinging from the branches above him. The moment of distraction is what causes him to spot the group of wilted ferns a few feet away. They list heavily to one side, like something bigger has kicked them away. Spider grins triumphantly.

“Lo’ak~” he sing songs, bounding over to the trail and following it as the pattern weaves through the forest. Now that he’s spotted it, it’s almost ridiculous how obvious the tracks are. Someone has been this way, and recently, too. “You’re getting sloppy, bro!”

The trail leads him right to a thicket of vines before disappearing beyond them. It’s a great hiding spot with the way the vines are half-obscured in shadow. He peaks through a gap and sees a tall tree in the center of a clearing. It’s hard to see at this angle, but there’s a figure kneeling at the base of the tree. Gotcha. Spider shoves through the curtain of vines, the words already halfway off his tongue.

“I found—”

His voice dies as the figure comes into full view.

It’s not Lo’ak. It’s not Neteyam or Kiri, either. No, the figure that turns to face him looks just as shocked to see him as he is to see them. A human boy. He’s wearing clothes similar to the humans back at Hell’s Gate, but Spider doesn’t recognize him as any of the scientists that work alongside his foster parents. His mask isn’t as bulky, either, and the exopack is quieter when the boy inhales sharply.

“Shit,” The boy hisses.

Spider doesn’t warn him not to curse. There's no adults around to catch him, anyway.

“Who are you?” He asks. Even as he does so, he gets closer to the stranger. Maybe he should feel more cautious, but he has no reason to fear any human in the forest. None of them have ever cared enough about Spider to want to hurt him before.

“I'm, uh, a friend. Of Norm's,” The boy says.

That has Spider perking up. “Oh, me too!”

Now only feet away, he can see the boy's face clearly. It's almost familiar, the dimple in his chin and set of his cheekbones makes Spider feel like he’s seen this boy before in passing. His blonde curls are cropped close to his head, and his sleeveless shirt reveals arms tight with muscle and broad shoulders. He must wrestle a lot, Spider thinks, when he sees all of the bruises on the boy's body. They crawl up and around his biceps, circle in purple and green blotches near the base of his throat and peek out from under the seal of his mask. There are some bite marks, too, red and fresh looking.

“Are you out here by yourself?” The boy asks.

Spider shakes his head. “I'm playing with my friends.”

The boy smiles a small, subdued smile. It's a little sad, and doesn't quite meet his big brown eyes. “Where are Lo'ak and Kiri? Is Neteyam with you?”

“I dunno, we're playing Hide and Seek. Do you know the Sullys?” Spider asks, a little surprised. This boy might not be a total stranger, no human at base really is to him, but he'd think he would know this one better if the boy knew Lo'ak, Kiri, and Neteyam by name.

“Sure do. You're all kind of hard to ignore when you play around in the labs.”

Spider dips his chin bashfully. That's definitely true, the scientists only let him go outside as much as they do because the only other option is to let his chaos be unleashed within the compound. And that can lead to lots of headaches and any number of broken tech.

“Sorry.”

The boy clicks his tongue and brushes a hand under Spider's chin to make him look up again.

“Don't be. Norm secretly thinks it's funny when you get up to trouble. Don't tell him I said that, though.”

Spider mimes zipping his mouth shut and throwing away a key to show that the secret is safe with him. It's the right move, because the boy's smile widens.

“How old are you now, Spider?” The boy asks.

“Seven.”

A beat. The boy stares at him with a faraway look, and for some reason it fills Spider with a lonely type of sadness. He gets the sense that the boy in front of him doesn't get a lot of hugs.

“We went back too far,” the boy mutters under his breath. It's quiet enough that he probably didn't mean for Spider to hear it. Not that it matters, because the words don't make any sense to him.

There's the sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves, and the boy's body language shifts. His expression turns grim, almost scared. Spider turns in the direction the sound came from, expecting to see a viperwolf or something.

“Miles?” A voice calls from beyond the clearing, getting closer.

The voice is unfamiliar. It must belong to another person Spider hasn't met yet. Is he calling for the boy? Surely he isn't calling for Spider, no one refers to him by his birth name anymore. Then the boy grabs him by the shoulders and spins him around so they are facing each other again.

“Spider, you gotta go, alright? Lo'ak is probably around here somewhere.”

The urgency in his voice scares Spider a little. Something has changed in the last minute that they've been here together, and he doesn’t know what. But he wants to reach up and smooth the crease that has formed between the boy's eyebrows.

“Do you and your friend want to play with us? You can be seeker in the next round, if Kiri lets you.”

The boy sighs, bringing a hand up to cradle Spider's head. “Maybe next time, okay, buddy? For now you have to go. Don't want the others to think you gave up seeking, right?”

That spurs Spider into action. If there's one thing he hates more than anything is people thinking he's a quitter. Even though he’s the smallest of his friends, and not as fast or strong as the other kids in the Omaticaya village, he is not the type to just give up on something.

“Right!”

He turns around and darts through the vines from which he came, only sparing a moment to wave goodbye to the boy still kneeling by the tree. The boy waves back and watches him go, shoulders hunched in on himself. A little bit of that sadness from earlier washes over Spider at the sight, but he doesn’t dwell on it for long. He passes through the vines back into the forest and almost instantly finds another set of tracks. These ones are smaller and indicative of somebody who is barefoot. They run all the way up to a bunch of trees with thick branches obscured with leaves as big as Spider's torso. A great spot for a Na'vi to blend in.

Spider cracks his knuckles and starts to climb. All thoughts beyond seeking take a backseat in his mind. He can ask Norm if there are any other humans named Miles at Hell's Gate later. For now, he has a game to win.

#my writing #avatar the way of water #miles spider socorro #answered asks #writing prompt

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lgcxnoeul · 2 years ago

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talk your ear off

After several years of training, he could proudly state that he had formed special relationships with each coach that he had spent valuable time under their tutelage. While some relationships had started off comically awkward, there were many coaches that he had vibed with from their first one-on-one interaction. He was still the very same troublemaker that had joined the company years ago, testing how far he could push boundaries, but with wholesome intentions ( of course ) and always outside of the valuable lessons and workshops led by the coaches.

He had learned that there was a time and place to fool around early on. All thanks to Instructor Yoo. He had been one of coaches, whom had been straightforward and warned him that his antics wouldn't always work regardless of endearingly cheeky he came across to others. Noeul was still adamant that fun could be had any second of the day. He had only become better at reading the room because of Instructor Yoo. He had been ecstatic to find out that the man would be the coach to check up on him for the current project he was participating in. Without him, he didn't think he would have reached this point in the company.

Maybe, he had come with a bribe —an iced caramel macchiatto with an absurd amount of espresso shots— and sporting one of his toothy grins when he stepped through the door.

"Did you miss me that much, Instructor Yoo?" He questions with a slight tilt of his head, teasing tone in his voice. He sets down the man's drink on the table, properly greeting him with a bow of his head. "I heard you specifically chose me."

An obvious lie, but the bold assumption makes the corner of the man's lips twitch upwards and laugh out-loud, which was a rare sight to whoever knew the stony-face man.

"Tell me about the project, Noeul."

"Well, I didn't know how I would feel constantly being surrounded by twenty men. I think I'm just happy that the company didn't force us to bunk together like the military." He sinks further into his chair, half-chuckling when he exhales through his mouth. "That would have been traumatizing." He taps his fingers against the arm of the couch, pressing his lips into a firm line. "In all seriousness, I really enjoyed that all of us with different skillsets came together and produced something to be proud of. I don't know if we achieved what the company wanted in terms of success, but we all worked hard until aches were unnoticeable, and we bonded over our struggles, our disagreements..."

"It affirmed for me that I want to be in a group. There is nothing more exhilarating than hearing footwork syncing on wood floors, or all of us out of breath when the instrumentals stop playing." He rests his chin in his palm, snorting at his own words. "Okay, that is a bit cheesy, right? I did end up bidding adieu to my sneakers. That was a loss I wasn't prepared for this month and I had to purchase a new pair, break them in. I'm not even sentimental or perceive them to be lucky, but it did throw me off. As a dancer, does that happen to you?" He pauses, clearly waiting for the man's response, only to not receive one. "Anyway—"

He bites on the inside of his cheek to suppress the pout from forming on his lips. He reaches for his drink to play with the straw, taking a quick sip. "I appreciated how the schedule was set up. I realized it's the type of schedule that works for me, one that I won't lose my sanity since you know that I'm not the most patient person. It's not too repetitive and there is always something new to look forward to. I had a lot of fun learning the unit songs and I can't wait to perform them at the concert. I'm crossing my fingers that I can do a concept like 'Do It Like This' in the future so—" A pause to wink at the man. "...if you can pass that along for me that would be great. Although, my arms were hurting the first day. I need to work out more, but that was a cruel reality."

"They felt like jelly!" He lifts his hands, pretending to be like one of those balloon men at car washes that he saw when he went to the U.S. with the other trainees. "Ah, before I forget, I think that the variety aspect was my favorite. It was a fun way for all of us to learn about each other, our personalities... I've spent time with most of the trainees, but it's rare when we get to interact with the actors and the models. I learned a lot from simply observing them. Some of them are in a league of their own, right? I was impressed by their expression, or how great they are at finding the camera. I realized that I have a lot to improve on. The wall just keeps growing and growing, Instructor Yoo."

"Noeul, you shouldn't forget to breathe." The reminder is finished off with a reassuring smile, notifying him to continue speaking if he wanted to.

"Right, right." The young man mumbles, averting his gaze to stare out the window. Had he switched the drinks? Why was his heart beating so hard? "Were you the evil person behind the choreography for 'Do It Like This'?"

A loud and boisterous laugh finally escapes the coach, filling the room and almost catches Noeul off guard, who joins him with subtle dimpling of his skin above his cheeks.

#lgc:springboys #( grooooowth )#( i have a lot to work on )#( i haven't forgotten. i promise. )#( will work on a tracker tomorrow )

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hunting-songs · 10 months ago

Note

The bad thing about sometimes having to travel for work is that they are attached to the availability of rooms that the hotel has at that time. Unfortunately for them, there were only two rooms with one bed left each one, so they had to divide into two groups. Basho and Linssen on one room, Senritsu and Kurapika on the other. "It's fine. I'll take the floor" The blonde mentioned nonchalantly. There wasn't much to think about, he wasn't going to let Senritsu sleep uncomfortably, especially knowing the pain she usually had. In any case, he didn't think he would sleep that night either. They were in an unfamiliar place and his senses were more alert than usual. "In fact, I think I'll sit in that chair and stand guard while you sleep"

On the other side of the corridor through thick, wooden doors Senritsu could hear Basho and Linssen discuss not of they should share a bed- they both had been Hunters for years and as people who had slept on ground as cold and hard as rocks with the littlest privacy a bed, even if it was shared, was paradise-, but who was getting the good pillow with the feather stuffing. Senritsu had to bite the inside of her cheek to not burst out in loud laughters when she heard Basho with a voice from deep out of his chest claim loudly ' I AM THE MAN WHO NEEDS GOOD STUFFINGS', so she held her small hand before her mouth and tried her best to look up to Kurapika without chuckling. "I am so flattered that you have this iron, unbreakable trust in me to think that I could even just enjoy thinking about falling asleep when there is a very awake and very loud breathing person in the same room as me.",the young woman hummed friendly, but only winked up at the other in all good humor: "Nothing against your volume of breathing Kurapika- you are a very quiet person as much in moving, talking and also breathing. But you could be estinto instead of pianissimo and I would still be kept awake by you just breathing." On the other side of the corridor Linssen and Basho had just started a brawl over who got the pillow with the feather-stuffing, even if it was not an actual fight but more the brawl of two schoolboys rolling around on the floor smacking eachother weakly and pulling eachothers hair, while trying not to make a single noise to not alert the teacher. "The teacher" was a nineteen year old, blonde Mafialeader in whos heartbeat Senritsu could hear his worry for her, but also a slow echo singing to her from nights that he had not spend sleeping that pushed dow on hisshoulders like a of iron weaved cloak. A worried line appeared between the Musicians big eyes, but she only shaked her head with gentle smile: "No need to play that song of yours for me. Do not worry for my sleep, Kurapika. I will play a song and use my Hatsu to lift my exhaustion and eventually I will be able to relax and use my Hatsu properly when I know that you are sleeping peacefully. So take the bed, please." "Also, by all means-" her small hands started to dance through the air to a melody only she could hear: "-who of us would be more useful sitting in the chair and keeping watch? You, who uses En or me who as an Emitter can use En a lot of better and also who has the good ears to know everything happening in this hotel from the mice in the cellars to the doves nesting under the roof, mhmmm?" Her finger stopped dancing and instead pointed directly up to Kurapika like he was a criminal just convicted by a detective : "I too,can use logical conclusions and this conclusion says: "Go to bed and sleep, Kurapika. Good night." On the other side of the corridor Senritsu could hear that Linssen had just managed to sit up on Bashos back with the bigger mans arms pinned beneath is knees while Linssen was holding up the featherstuffed pillow with surpressed, triumphant laughing as if the pillow was a precious treasure. [ @skarletchains ]

#v: es saß ein klein wild vöglein #skarletchains

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edddimun · 2 years ago

Text

Fake Animosity

(not my gif)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem! reader

Description: (Enemies to lovers!) What started off as a small argument turned into something much bigger than intended.

Warnings: Swearing, slight violence (from bullies), angsty (but there's fluff)

A/N: HI EVERYONE! This is my first fanfic ever omg. I tried my best at this! <3

Note: I will be posting more ff on my MAIN BLOG - @edsmunsonsworld

Word count: 4000

Everyone was aware of your two-way animosity. He would show more respect for the other members of the group than for you, and you would do the same for him. Steve and Robin knew your liking towards Eddie, but the hopes of your feelings being returned were low- as you both bickered a lot. Though it has never gone this far.

“Well, that’s understandable Munson, since you enjoy playing ‘music’ that sounds like smashing shit together and calling it a song,” You scoff, rolling your eyes. Although you just officially met him a few months ago, you’ve noticed him around school a lot. Either shouting at the jocks or talking to his group. And now he’s here because of Dustin.

“Then why are you always showing up with the rest of the group every week to watch my band?” He smirks, leaning his back against the edge of a table.

Taking a deep breath in you say, “Well, first of all, I am forced to because if not then Dustin and Steve will physically drag me out of my house and shove me in the car. Which has happened before. And second of all, the only part I look forward to on these nights is going to the diner right after your performances.”

Eddie chuckles and straightens up, “You wanna know something?” He mutters. You just stare into his brown eyes with a deadpan expression, not reacting to his question. He leans in, lips just inches away from your ear.

“Even though you don’t like my music, I know you secretly enjoy watching me play.” Your head slightly tilts in confusion.

“How do I know?” His voice deepens, “Well, I’ve noticed you’re always distracted during my performances.”

“Wha-”

He cuts you off, “Distracted by what you wonder?” You don’t answer.

“Distracted by me.” Your heart drops for some reason.

“Don’t think I don’t notice you staring at me, staring at my hair, my tattoos and especially the rings on my fingers” He looks down at his rings and starts moving them around, your eyes following his.

“That’s what I’ve noticed you eye the most.” He leans back and smirks. You look back up at him.

“Hm.” You scoff. “Oh Eddie,“ you sigh, crossing your arms and shifting your weight on one hip. Your tight shirt and tight jeans hug the right places of your body. The warm-toned colours of the spotlights you’re standing beneath in Gareth’s garage enhance your features. You’re looking a little too good right now for Eddie. He bites his lip and eyes your body up and down, and finally to your eyes.

“Don’t think too highly of yourself Munson, especially with me.” You mutter, “I must admit your rings do look nice, especially under the spotlights when you perform,” You say with a stern voice. “But, don’t take it as a hint that I’ll treat you any better- you have been treating me like shit since we met, and you still do,” Your voice softens as you look away but back to his eyes, trying to keep up your demeanour.

Instead of waiting for his response, you walk away towards Robin who is rambling to Nancy near Steve’s car. As you’re walking towards the girls you hear,

“But you’re the one treating me like shit too!” Eddie loudly exclaims, drawing everyone’s attention.

You stop in your tracks and turn around. Everyone is silent. He slowly takes a few steps towards you. Before he says anything, you interrupt him.

“I treat you like shit because you did it to me first!” You say, matching his tone and volume. You’re lying if you said that you’re not scared. Even though you and Eddie occasionally argue, it has never reached this stage.

He licks his lips, digging his hands in his back pockets, his eyes burning into yours as he takes a step towards you, leaving a good gap between you.

“I did it to you first? Really? You believe that I would be rude to someone when we first meet?” His tone starting to get more vicious. “I guess you would think that because I’m a freak. But you were the one who ignored me and shouted at me to leave you alone!” His hands flail in the air and loudly slap his thighs.

You see Dustin slowly walking towards you both, “Um guys, I thi-”

“And do you know why I did that? Do you?” Your voice rises as you question him. “Do you know what I just went through a few moments before that happened? Before you first arrived with Steve?” Your loud voice turns into a whisper, trying to conceal the cracks in your voice. Dustin places a hand on your shoulder trying to calm you down. Tears start to cloud your vision as you recall the events of that day. Eddie opens his mouth to say something but notices the tears in your eyes, which he has never seen before. Given that you’re the most stubborn person he’s met and you always had an intimidating nature. His mouth closes and looks at Dustin with wide eyes and a confused state.

“Okay I think that’s enough,” Dustin quietly says, rubbing your back. He gives a quick glare to Eddie, in order to stop him from protesting back. Eddie is taken aback and confused as to what just happened and what happened on that day. The tears in your eyes start falling. You look down at your feet to hide your tears. You wipe your cheeks as you and Dustin walk towards Steve’s car.

The car ride towards the diner was silent. Although Eddie was in his van with Mike, Will, Lucas, Max and El (hiding in the back). While you were in Steve’s car with Dustin, Nancy, Robin and obviously Steve. Everyone didn’t want to continue making you upset by talking about it. Instead, Robin laid her head against your shoulder while Dustin rubbed your back on the way there.

However in the other vehicle,

“Why did you continue to argue with her even though she walked away?!” Max exclaims as she rubs her temples.

“Well because she was literally the one who was mean to me at first! She acted like a bitch to me, so I continued to act like a bitch back!” Eddie argues back to Max while gripping the steering wheel.

Mike sighs before calmly telling Eddie, “You didn’t know what she just went through thats why she was like that. Yes I’d understand that you would be rude back to her at first, but she tried being nice to you after the incident but you kept being mean.”

“Pfft,” Eddie rolls his eyes, “I would’ve noticed if she was being nice to me dummy.”

“Hey!” Mike shrieks, he sits up turning his body towards Eddie, “You’re the one being the dummy! A clueless dummy! You kept ignoring and neglecting her! So obviously you wouldn’t notice! She even came up to Dustin and I once and asked if you were alright because you kept silent when she tried to talk to you! She thought you were upset and wanted to help you!” Mike rants. His heavy breathing now filling up the silence.

Eddie stays quiet. His eyes continue watching the road as he drives. His mind is filled with many unanswered questions and surprisingly, guilt.

“What did happened?” Eddie quietly asks, but loud enough for everyone to hear. Instead of getting a reply from the kids, he’s met with silence. He looks at Mike in the passenger seat and sees hesitation in his eyes as he looks back and forth between Eddie and the kids in the back. Mike purses his lips and properly sits back on his seat. Everyone is scared to say something or say nothing as it might trigger a nerve in him.

“L-Look its up to her if she wants to tell you, okay?” Max responds.

Eddie slowly nods. He turns into the parking lot of the diner and sees Steve’s car follow behind him. In his rearview mirror, he can just see you sitting in the middle seat staring out the window with someone’s head on your shoulder. He sighs and parks the car. He turns back to look at the kids and they’re just staring back at him with nervous eyes.

“What?” He asks confused. ‘Nothing’ they all murmur trying to not make him mad. They all quickly get out of the van, leaving Eddie alone.

“Weirdos,” He whispers to himself as he watches the kids run up to Steve. Eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. He gets out of the van and immediately his eyes are drawn to you. Arms crossed with a red nose and watery eyes, walking with Robin into the diner.

He purses his lips and follows everyone inside.

The table is silent. Dead silent. Except for Steve whistling, trying his best to relieve the air. Eddie is on one end of the table and you are on the opposite end.

“Uh..so who’s paying?” Robin says with a smile, breaking the awkwardness. “I think Steve should pay because he’s been closing the store all week. While I..” Robin points at herself, “Have been leaving early and finally getting sleep!” Robin nudges your shoulder, earning a small smile from you.

“Hey! Just because I work more doesn’t mean I have enough spending money for all of you!” Steve blurts out.

Robin's brows furrow, “Why are you spending your money on someone else?” She smirks while Dustin and Mike giggle.

“Oohoh! Something is going on!” Robin laughs as Max, Lucas and Nancy start laughing. Robin suddenly gasps, “Wait! There is someone!” Robin loudly exclaims, whilst violently clapping her hands.

“What?” Steve whines, his hands rubbing his face.

“Well…you’ve been taking my closing shifts so you can get more money right?” Robin asks. Steve rolls his eyes, “Well obviously.”

“You used to complain about getting closing shifts but now you want them so you can earn money and that's because you’ve been taking someone out!” Robin shrieks, gathering the attention of some other customers. You giggle and shush her to be quiet. Eddie, on the other hand, is not focusing on the conversation, rather he’s thinking back to the times when you’ve actually tried to be nice but instead his main goal was to ignore or act rude to you.

“Hey Eddie, is it okay if I can watch you guys play D&D tonight? Dustin’s been raving on about how good your campa-”

“No.”

“Wait wh-”

“Why would I let someone who doesn’t know a single thing about the game and doesn’t know how to play, inside to watch? Let alone you you’ll probably just make some unnecessary comments just to make the kids laugh, which, by the way, aren’t funny,” He states glaring at you.

You’re taken aback. You didn’t know what to do or how to respond, so your sweet demeanour takes a turn.

“Wow. Hm. Didn’t know the freak could talk back. Did you learn that from the bullies?” You pout at him. “At least you’ve learnt something in high school,” You viciously say rolling your eyes before walking away.

Aaaand that’s when the hatred began.

The awkward tension at the table is finally gone, and everyone is having conversations amongst themselves. You and Robin are laughing at how picky Dustin is with his burger. No pickles. No lettuce. No sauce. Just a bun, meat and cheese.

“You’ll probably need to drink some moisturising cream to prevent your mouth from becoming dry from that thing,” Robin chuckles out while you laugh hard.

Dustin loudly exhales before arguing back with Robin. You continue to laugh as you sit between them listening to their blabber. Eddie’s brought out of his daydreaming trance as he hears your laughter. It’s something he didn’t hear that often as you always tried to avoid him whenever in a group setting. His eyes continue staring at you. Admiring your smile, how your eyes smile when your mouth does, your hair moving side to side as you look between Dustin and Robin.

“Are you going to say something or just stare at her?” Steve quietly says, sitting across from Eddie trying to not gather anyone else’s attention.

“Look man, I-” Eddie huffs, not knowing what to say. He desperately wants to say something to you, he wants to know what happened but doesn’t know how to approach it.

“I just want to know what happened,” Eddie mutters out. Steve nods, chewing on his food.

He swallows and says, “Go up to her after this. I bet she wants all this to be over too. But you have to give her space. If she wants to talk about it, let her. If she doesn’t, then that’s her choice…” Steve sighs, “She’s a really nice person. She has such a pure heart and even though she doesn’t want me to say this…” Steve looks at you. You’re rambling to Dustin about some burger sauce.

“She’s told me she likes you. And I'm not sure if she still does. But before our group even met you, she’s talked about you to us- in a good way obviously. She was always rambling on about how good your hair looked that day or blah blah blah. She loves your rings. Like a lot. And she says how you’re so talented and how you treat the kids really well,” Steve says. Eddie stays frozen, still trying to process the information that Steve is telling you.

So you’re telling him that the girl that Eddie has had a crush on- before you both ever met, likes him too? or likED him. Thanks to Dustin's rant about you one day at lunch and you overhearing it then throwing a pickle at him was when he started to like you. You both would share glances at school- until you both actually met. It felt surreal but at this point, Eddie knew that he ruined it. Although he’s been mean, he’s flirted in a mean way. Usually, after an argument, you’d push him away, or he would call you pet names - which you secretly love but tried to hide by showing a disgusted face.

Steve waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face, “Hello?”

“Well shit, looks like you feel the same way too huh?” Steve chuckles looking at Eddie and then you- who is still rambling. Eddie doesn’t react in a negative manner at Steve’s comment, instead, he looks at you, wondering what he’s going to do next. He sees you stand up on the other end.

“I’m going to the bathroom! I will continue to say the rest of my debate when I come back Henderson!” She chuckles and ruffles Dustin’s hair.

“Yep,” Eddie quickly replies to Steve and stands up to follow you.

Eddie waits by the bathroom to wait for you to come out. The door opens after a few minutes, revealing you.

“Hey,” Eddie says, accidentally making you jump from the sudden voice.

You chuckle and look up properly, “Whoa- oh…um, hey.” The smile on your face disappears when you realise who was standing right in front of you.

“Oh I-I’m really sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” Eddie slightly chuckles, scratching the back of his neck to lighten up the atmosphere. “U-Um..ca-can we talk?” He quietly says.

You look behind his shoulder and see the others looking at you both but trying to not make it obvious.

Your eyes look right back at his, “Outside.”

You’re standing right next to Eddie, who is fidgeting with his rings. His hair moving along with the wind, covering some of his face.

He pushes his hair back, eyes on the ground, “I just want to say, I-I’m really sorry. I know sorry doesn’t make up for anything I’ve done. And I know I have no clue what happened on that day, I’m sorry for misjudging you by the first impression. I knew something happened on that day but I didn’t think it would affect you that much. You don’t have to tell me what happened, i-it’s your choice but I’m just rea-”

“No, I’m sorry Eddie,” You look up at him, and he does the same. His eyes fill with confusion.

“Wait why are-”

“No. I ignored you, and I acted rudely when we first met although you tried to help me but I just treated you like a piece of garbage. And I swear I don’t treat people like that - especially when we first meet,” you chuckle, bringing your eyes back to the ground. You start playing with your fingers, “I-um, well- the reason why I was acting like that was because... I was at my locker and I heard Jason talking about your group, especially you,”

You look up at him and gulp. “He was calling you names, and he was saying how he wants to sabotage your D&D session after school. And I was obviously was not fond of that because I know how much your campaigns mean to you guys,” Eddie’s eyes and heart soften hearing those words. The guilt in his heart starts building up.

“So I went up to Jason, and I pretended as if I was against you guys too, and obviously he knew that I talk to Dustin and Mike. B-but I knew he wanted to get you specifically, and we haven’t even met each other back then.”

“Hey Jason, I heard you want to sabotage the Hellfire's D&D game?”

Jason turns around, along with the rest of the jocks and some cheerleaders, “Who are you?” Jason laughs and so does everyone else. You don’t react but all you do is stare at Jason with a deadpanned expression, causing the laughter to die down quickly.

“Wait- what? But don’t you talk to some of them? Bike and Justin? Or some shit like that?” He says with a confused face. You don’t answer.

Jason clears his throat, “What do you want?” He whispers.

“I can help you sabotage.”

“I told them a different room, I helped hide some whipped cream and other stupid shit that I can’t remember,” you say. “I told them the room right between the music rooms and the bathroom-”

“Isn’t that where-”

“Yes, the room where Principal Higgins suspiciously goes into for whatever reason…but anyways, I convinced them that Principal Higgins let you guys play in there anyways. I mean it looked convincing because there was a big ass wooden table in there with chairs scattered around,” you and Eddie both softly laugh.

“Well we got the everything ready, the cheerleaders and I helped hide the boys in some closet and behind smaller tables. And I told them that as soon as the door opens- thats when it happens. Pieing your faces with whipped cream, throw water and pop some shit. And that’s what happened,”

You sigh, “Except to Principle Higgins. I didn’t tell anyone in the group about this- even Robin. But I was at the end of the hallway in the corner, hiding. Until, I heard the loud commotion, followed along with “Oh my gosh, we’re so sorry, wrong person, and then the infamous ‘In my office now!’” Eddie stares at you with wide eyes. This whole time, you were protecting him and he didn’t even realise.

“But that’s when things went downhill…I knew things were going to happen to me after the incident but it was kinda worth it. But that night with you. That’s when Jason and the others followed me back home from school. And out of all those days, I had to be walking to school,” you pause for a moment.

“As I was walking home, I was listening to music on my walkman. And someone snatched it off my head and I look back to see the cheerleaders and Jason. It was Victoria, Lily and others but they were telling me how my life is going to become a living hell. I didn’t act scared but that’s when they crushed my walkman and started pushing me to the ground. They kicked, punched and pulled my hair. No one was around and they just left me there,” Tears start falling from your eyes, you try your best to wipe them as fast as you could before Eddie could see. Instead, he softly grabs your arm and pulls you towards his body. He holds you in your arms and lets you cry.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain anymore,” He whispers in your ears.

He puts his chin on top of your head, “I understand now. I’m sorry I treated you like that. I-I really am,” Eddie’s eyes start to well up.

He rubs your back up and down and continues to comfort you. Leaning back and look at his face, you can feel his breath on your lips as you’re inches apart. You notice his tears are on the verge of spilling. You lift your hands towards his face and wipe his tears that start to fall. His arms move to hold you around your waist.

“You did it for me?” Eddie whispers as his voice cracks.

“I had to Eddie. I couldn’t let them do that to you. I would feel guilty for the rest of my life if I knew that they were going to do shit to you and I didn’t do anything,” you whisper.

“You could’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

You both stare into each others eyes, the warmth of your bodies keeping you warm. His lips move trying to say something.

“But why me? Why me out of everyone? N-no one cares about D&D. No one cares about us. Everyone hates us.” His eyes looking down.

His lips start to tremble, “Everyone hates me.”

Eddie’s voice goes from a whisper to a mumble. Though you were able to understand. You can hear the hurt and the insecurity in his voice. Your heart hurt as soon as he said that. His eyes look down. You lift his chin with your fingers. Eddie’s watery eyes stare directly into yours. The once mean, rude and aggressive Eddie is no longer here. The side he was afraid of showing to everyone, he is now showing you.

“I don’t. I never did Eddie.”

“Even with the way I treated you before?” He utters with guilt.

“Never.”

He feels comfort in your arms, trust and love. Something he never got to show and feel. But now that you’re here, he feels loved. Loved and trusted by you. Even though it was very unexpected, it’s something you both were longing for. Longing for each other’s arms. Waiting for this very moment.

He leans forward and presses his lips against yours. Ever so gently. He pulls you in closer by the waist, deepening the kiss. It was the perfect kiss. Full of hope, passion, regret, guilt and love. It was as though nothing that had occurred between you and Eddie had ever happened. The truth was hidden by all the arguments and remarks, as well as the feelings you two had for one another. The concealed truth of what started the fake animosity between you and Eddie.

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kepamount · 3 years ago

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part twenty-four - butterflies

blue moon 🌙 - MM19xreader, smau, crack comedy, fluff, angst and smut

← previous

warnings: explicit sex (don’t read the written part if you’re under 18 please!!), unprotected penetrative sex, riding, fingering, praise, dirty talk, I think that’s it but pls let me know if I missed anything!!

a/n: and here is the twenty-fourth part of blue moon, dedicated to the lovely and beautiful @benluvbot for her birthday, love you lots bby! this is not proofread bc I literally just wrote it in the last three hours so pls forgive any mistakes 😭 lmk what you think and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist! x

taglist 🤍: @masesangel @moneymasnn @cesarazpi28 @rmvb24 @sad-fridge2323 @masonm19 @shannon-jade-99 @lazysportsfanfornhl @gotbangtanlads @blazingmount @chilwell-21 @user8292 @japanesekel @ofxinnocence @heli991113 @silverlightprincess

‘I could stay here forever,’ I sigh happily as I look up at the beautiful sunset, my arm locked with Mason’s, and I can see him smiling at me out of the corner of my eye. We’re walking down one of the small side streets towards the beach, so we can walk along the shore back to our villa.

We woke up together in my bed again, having another slow lazy morning. We had a little morning swim in the pool, having races and diving competitions, before he made us breakfast which we ate together on the balcony. And then we got ready for our group daytrip to see the ruins of Atlantis!

It was so much fun. I practically dragged Mason around the entire time, spouting off different mythology facts, and he just listened with this little smile on his face, giving appropriate reactions to everything I said. All our friends just watched us with these amused looks on their faces, as though they knew something we didn’t, and I know what they were all thinking, but they’re wrong. Me and Mason are just… friends who still can’t help but be a bit mean to each other.

When we got back, I begged him to watch Hercules with me, and we set up the living room as a little cinema. I made us a makeshift bed on the floor with blankets and cushions whilst he set up the projector on the wall. We ate way too much popcorn and I sang along to every single song, Mason amazed that I knew all the words.

When ‘I Won’t Say I’m In Love’ came on, I properly got into it, Mason watching me prance around the room singing my heart out with this big grin on his face. He tried his best to sing the backup vocals that the Muses do even though he’d never heard the song before, reading out the lyrics from his phone, but I performed more than enough for the two of us, belting out Megara’s lines like they were coming from my heart.

Once the film was over, we had a light dinner on the balcony and then he suggested a walk to watch the sunset. We left around an hour ago and we’ve just been strolling around the area, stopping every few minutes to take photos of the sky and selfies with everyone who asks.

‘You’d stay here forever? You wouldn’t miss London, or touring?’ he asks, and I mull it over for a moment. ‘I’d definitely miss it but… life is so much more simple here. Lazy mornings and days on the beach and amazing food and pretty skies. I adore my normal life, but here… everything’s easier,’ I explain, not saying the thought that’s really on my mind, but he says it for me.

‘We don’t have to worry about us here. When we get back home, things won’t be this simple, and we’re gonna have to have a conversation about this,’ he says softly, and I nod without looking at him. ‘But…’ he begins with a grin, taking my hand and moving around to stand in front of me, walking backwards and pulling me along with him, ‘you don’t have to worry about that yet. You have other priorities.’

‘And what, may I ask, are those priorities?’ I ask with a raised eyebrow, unable to hold back my smile. ‘Trying to stop me from throwing you in the water.’ Before I can process his words, he’s scooping me up into his arms. ‘Mason!’ I shriek as he runs across the beach, nearing the water, and I thrash around in his arms to try and get him to put me down.

‘Mason, I swear to God! Please, Mase, don’t! Mason, please!’ I scream through giggles, Mason laughing as we reach the shore, some families further down the beach watching us amusedly. He throws our phones down onto the sand before carrying on running into the ocean, all the way until the water is right up to his waist, the back of my dress soaked through.

He puts me down in the sea, the water reaching to just beneath my chest, and I give him a death stare, a wide grin on his face. ‘I’m gonna kill you,’ I threaten, failing to hold back my smile, before splashing a load of water up onto his face, and he gasps as it drips off his hair (and abs. In fact, his entire torso drips with water, my stomach turning at the sight). We chase each other around, soaking each other with big splashes as our laughter drifts out into the sea.

He grabs me after a couple minutes, pulling me into his arms just as a particularly big wave hits his legs. He loses his balance and slips, both of us falling into the water. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he says straight away, getting up before holding out a hand to me, and I just laugh as he lifts me up. ‘You’re an idiot, Mount,’ I say affectionately as we head up towards the beach, our villa visible on the hill in front of us. ‘I’m your favourite idiot, though,’ he grins, and I just roll my eyes.

I take off my sandals and Mason takes off his water-logged trainers as soon as we’re on dry ground, the sand sticking to our wet skin. He takes my hand into his, our fingers interlaced as we walk up off the beach, and then he suddenly remembers our phones. He goes rushing back to find them and I watch him amusedly as I searches for them in the sand. He finds them, holding them up above his head victoriously, and I laugh as he runs back up towards me.

As soon as he reaches me, he puts an arm around me, rushing me up the road, and I look at him confusedly. ‘You are wearing a white dress. And it is soaked through. And you’re not wearing a bra,’ he murmurs under his breath, and my heart drops as I look down at myself. I’m practically naked.

‘Oh, my God,’ I gasp, and we begin to run up the hill, hoping none of our friends are looking out of their windows, and we’re both out of breath when we enter our villa, collapsing into giggles against the wall.

‘You’re an idiot,’ I say amusedly when our laughter dies down, both of us sat on the floor in the entryway, leaning against opposite walls. ‘Like I said, your favourite idiot. Just like how you’re my favourite brown girl with great tits,’ he grins, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m honoured,’ I say drily. ‘You should be. There’s a lot of brown girls with nice tits out there,’ he says lightly, and I roll my eyes.

‘None as good as yours though. I might even go as far to say you have the best tits out of all the girls in the world, brown or not,’ he murmurs, snaking an arm around me and pulling me down onto him. ‘Ever the romantic,’ I whisper with a small smile, and he grins before sliding his hand to the back of my neck so our lips meet.

He has such a lack of control, instantly deepening the kiss by parting my lips with his, sliding his tongue across mine in a way that makes tingles run through me. His hands are firm on my waist, the curves of my body slotting into his perfectly, legs tangled together as our lips move in sync, letting out soft breaths and gasps. His hands slide under my dress, one stopping at my pants whilst the other grasps my boob, groping me like a horny teenage boy.

He slips a finger under my pants, ghosting along my folds, and my breath catches in my throat. ‘We’re gonna fuck here? In front of the door?’ I ask with our lips still pressed together, his quirking up into a grin. ‘If you want to,’ he responds, pushing a finger into me, and I feel my entire body set alight, a soft moan falling from my lips. He adds another finger, fucking into me and scissoring his fingers to try and stretch me out a bit.

I’m too focused on the pleasure to kiss him back so he presses his lips to my neck as I roll my hips to meet his hand. ‘Feels good?’ he asks against my skin, and I just whimper in response as my walls clamp around his fingers, his lips curling up amusedly. ‘Stop clenching, babe. Gonna break my fingers,’ he murmurs, and I try to relax as gentle waves of pleasure roll through me.

‘Can I ride you?’ I whisper, and his movements stop for a moment as he looks up at me with dark eyes. ‘Seriously? God, you’re a fucking dream, babe.’ ‘Remember when you said to me a couple days ago that I’m not exactly a dream?’ I ask him with a small smile. ‘I take it back, I take it back. You are a dream. The dreamiest dream to ever… be dreamt. Created by sandman himself,’ he grins, making me giggle. ‘Someone’s a fan of Rise of the Guardians.’ ‘The biggest fan, babe.’

I put my hands on his chest and push myself up to straddle him, sat on his stomach. He leans back on his elbows, watching as I pull my dress over my head, dropping it on his head. He throws it away, about to say something, but his words die on his tongue when he sees me sat almost-naked on top of him. ‘God, you really do have the best tits,’ he murmurs, making me laugh.

He pulls his shorts and boxers down to the tops of his thighs, tugging on his dick a few times. ‘Go on, babe. It’s all yours. You can do the work today,’ he grins, making me roll my eyes. I pull my pants aside before lifting myself up. He guides himself into me, eyes glued to the area between my legs as I slowly sink down onto him.

He curses softly as I gasp, taking him all the way to the hilt. I’ve never felt so full in my life, and I take a moment to adjust. ‘You okay?’ he murmurs, and I nod, taking deep breaths as he watches me with a slight grin on his face.

After a good thirty seconds, I begin grinding down onto him, dragging my hips back and forth, flooding my mind with pleasure. ‘Ah, fuck,’ he groans, my stomach turning at the breathlessness of his voice as I roll my hips, the tip of his cock pressing against the spot inside me that has my head feeling light.

My clit brushes against his skin with each movement of my hips, and I feel my body getting weaker as I let out a soft moan, my hands pressing into his strong chest. ‘God, so tight,’ he murmurs as I clench around him, lying back with his head resting on the floor, body tense and veins corded tight in his arms and neck. I could cum just from the sight of him like this.

‘You’re so fucking big,’ I whisper, eyes watering at the feeling of being so full, hips erratically grinding down onto him, and he grins up at me. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yeah. Filling me up,’ I whimper, a shit-eating smirk on his face. Clearly, I’m not the only one with a praise kink. ‘God, if only you from a few days ago could see you now,’ he says cockily, and I shoot him a dirty look.

He suddenly thrusts up into me, forcing a loud moan out of me, and the arrogance exuding from him literally triples as he continues thrusting up into me, making me bounce on top of him. ‘Fuck, ugh, feels good,’ I whine as his cock drags against my walls, hands digging into my waist to lift me and drop me, meeting his thrusts.

I already feel the knot in my stomach tightening as he rams into me, the sound of our skin slapping together and obscene squelching with each thrust echoing around the room. He pushes himself up to a sitting position and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, his hands still pressing into my waist to guide my movements.

I press my lips to his, our teeth clashing with each bounce of my hips, both of us moaning into each other’s mouths. How he’s managing to maintain enough sanity to lift and drop me on top of him at a steady pace is beyond me, because I’m so full of pleasure that I can barely focus on keeping myself upright, my head falling back when he slides a hand between us to rub slow circles on my clit.

‘Close, babe?’ he asks, and I nod, nails digging into his shoulders, and I can tell he’s close too, his cock twitching inside of me. He focuses on getting me there, guiding my hips back and forth with one hand whilst the other continues its onslaught at my clit, my vision blurring as I near my high.

‘Cum for me, y/n. So fucking pretty for me. Want you to cum on my cock, babe,’ he prompts, fucking up into me each time he drops me onto him, his cock hitting my soft spot each time. ‘Fuck, Mase, I’m gonna…’ I trail off, and he thrusts into me particularly hard, pressing down onto my clit, making me hit my high.

I let out a loud moan of his name, body shaking as I lean my head against his shoulder, clenching around him, and he rubs at my clit to get me through my orgasm. As soon as my walls loosen around him, he begins fucking into me, the overstimulation making me shudder, but I meet his thrusts to try and get him to his orgasm.

‘Fuck, y/n, I’m close, babe,’ he groans in a strained voice, and I can feel his cock twitching, his hands tight on my waist. ‘Cum in me, Mase. Want you to fill me up,’ I whisper against his ear, clenching around him, and that’s all it takes. He buries his head into the crook of my neck, moaning my name, and I rock my hips back and forth as he cums deep inside me.

We stay like this for a few minutes, both of us taking deep breaths as he goes soft, his head still resting in my neck as his fingers lightly dance up and down my back. ‘We need to get up, Mase,’ I murmur, fingers playing with his hair, and he sighs against my skin before looking at me with a soft smile. ‘Come on, then.’

We get up, my legs shaky as we head to the living room, and I drop down onto the makeshift bed from earlier as he heads upstairs. He comes back a few moments later with a towel and a fresh change of clothes for both of us, a grin on his face. He cleans me up with a gentle touch and helps me put on the clean clothes, before getting changed himself and lying down beside me.

‘A shower can wait ‘til the morning,’ he murmurs, and I nod in agreement. ‘You must be shattered,’ I say tiredly, and he lets out a soft laugh. ‘Yeah, I am. You were supposed to do the work, you pillow princess.’ ‘Pillow princess refers to LGBT women,’ I tell him, and he looks surprised. ‘Really? …That actually explains a lot,’ he says, and I giggle at the thought of some of the funny looks he must have had when using that term before.

‘Before you fall asleep… I got you something,’ he says casually, reaching into his pocket and pulling out something silver. He hands it to me with a small smile, and I sit up in surprise, taking it from him. It’s a bracelet with a light blue butterfly pendant hanging from it, the exact bracelet I was looking at in the gift shop at the Lost City ruins before Steph distracted me with some drama about her sandal breaking.

‘Mason,’ I whisper in shock, looking at the bracelet in wonder, and the smile slips from his face. ‘Do you like it?’ ‘Yeah, of course I do,’ I say, feeling tears in my eyes as I look at him, a massive grin on his face. ‘Let me put it on you,’ he murmurs, taking the bracelet from me and clasping it around my wrist, his fingers brushing across my skin making my arm tingle.

‘I also… got this for myself,’ he says, trying his best to sound all relaxed and offhand as he gets another bracelet out of his pocket. It’s the same as the one for me, with a slightly darker blue butterfly. ‘Matching?’ I ask and he nods with a small smile, holding out his wrist so I can put it on him.

‘Look at us,’ I grin, looking at the butterflies together once his is on, and he pulls me into his arms, my back resting against his chest, head tucked under his chin. ‘Any particular reason you decided to get us matching bracelets?’ I ask, the boy chuckling and I can feel the vibrations of his laughter against me. ‘As a matter of fact, yes. There is a reason.’ ‘Oh, really, Mr Mount? What’s the reason?’ I ask amusedly.

‘The reason… is that when we’re back in London, we can look at these bracelets and remember this time we’re spending together. We might go back to our frenemy ways, but this can be a reminder of a simpler and happier time, of us living in… domestic bliss in Santorini,’ he laughs, making me giggle as my stomach explodes with butterflies, my eyes locked on our bracelets together.

‘You told me yesterday that your heart is happier here, and mine is too. So I want us to look at these butterflies and remember that happiness,’ he murmurs, and I turn my head to look at him, my eyes watery. ‘Thank you, Mase,’ I whisper, a tear spilling down onto my cheek, and he laughs, raising a hand to wipe the tear away.

‘I take it you like it then,’ he chuckles, and I nod, resting my head against his chest. ‘I love it,’ I respond softly as he presses a kiss to the top of my head, and I don’t think that I could ever feel happier than I do in this very moment, wrapped up in his arms with matching blue butterflies on our wrists.

#mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #mason mount smau #mason mount social media au #chelsea fc

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fredshufflepuff · 3 years ago

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— anon’s request: ok so since i too am a whore for angst. how about the reader and rafe having a summer thing as a kook (maybe she goes to the pogue school but is a kook) and once she goes back to school, they drift apart and rafe gets jealous of her spending her time with the pogues. then maybe he sees her again at mid summers all dressed up and remembers he still loves her. please break my heart with this, im in need of a cry and then maybe put it back together with some fluff at the end? please

— warnings: fem!reader, brief smut (skip if uncomfortable), asshole!rafe for a good chunk of the imagine, language, angst, fluff.

— word count: 2,166

IT all started when you bumped into rafe at the country club on figure eights.

you didn’t normally hang around that area, but you were hanging out with sarah that day—which meant eventually running into her brother.

she tried to keep you away from him, just because he had no filter and didn’t think twice before voicing his opinion, but sooner or later your interaction with the boy would happen.

“oh god” sarah mumbled causing you to raise your brows, a confused frown on your face as she signaled to look behind you.

you turned around not so subtle to see rafe cameron making his way down the grassy hill, a golf club in one hand and a can of beer in the other.

“hey little sis, when were you going to introduce me to your friend here?” the boy spoke, a small grin on his face at seeing her roll her eyes.

“i wasn’t planning on it, you know—considering how you’re an ass.”

a small giggle fell from your lips as rafe turned his attention back to you, the sides of his mouth curling slightly at your reaction.

“well since she won’t introduce me, i will” he said, his figure leaning over yours which was sat on the grass.

he tossed his most likely expressive golf club to the ground to extend his hand out to you, which you hesitated to take before slowly reaching for it.

“i’m rafe cameron.”

of course you knew who he was, everyone did.

“y/n y/l/n.”

YOU thought the interaction with sarah’s older brother was in the past, not having to see him again since you weren’t planning on going back to figure eight or the club any time soon.

but when you found yourself in his bed getting the absolute daylights fucked out of you, you knew right then and there that this wasn’t a one time thing.

“fuck rafe,” you moaned loudly, your head thrown back against the pillow as your eyes fell shut from the feeling.

he slide his cock in and out of your needy hole as you whimpered from under him, his toned body pressed against yours as you jolted from each thrust.

“m’gonna cum, flood this needy little fuck hole” he spat, his hand coming down to grab your face and force you to open your eyes.

“please, rafe. please fill me up” you begged, your little moans and pleads sending the boy over the edge.

as soon as he gave you permission to cum you didn’t hold back. it felt like your entire body had shut down as your head fell to the side.

rafe sent a rough thrust into your quivering body before emptying himself inside, making sure to keep himself as close as possible in order to not let any leak out.

“fuck,” he groaned in your ear, his body pressed against your small one as your hands came up to rest in his hair, pulling on it gently as his cum filled you up.

later that night you didn’t bother sneaking back out to your place, instead rafe suggested you actually stay—running you a hot bath before ordering take out.

it surprised you really, considering how you didn’t know what you guys were.

you both agreed to only be friends with benefits when this all started, but now you didn’t know if you wanted that or not.

you wanted something more with the blue eyed boy.

“what are we?” you asked while laying in his arms, the feeling of his breath trailing down your neck giving you comfort.

“friends with benefits.”

no hesitation was found in his voice. it was quick and sudden, just like your heart breaking.

“oh.”

you didn’t talk much with rafe after that night—leaving early in the morning to avoid further interaction.

rafe didn’t suspect anything though, knowing how busy you usually get with school and home life, but after that single day turned into almost a week, he knew something wasn’t right.

usually you’d be around the house or at the country club, but it felt like you were almost avoiding him.

when school started up that’s when things really started to hit for rafe. you were not only distancing yourself from him, but now you were hanging out with the pogues.

to him you had wiggled yourself into john b’s friend group, getting closer with everyone but mostly jj, the one pogue he despised more than the others.

it was the night of midsommars and you were preparing yourself to see rafe, your nerves seeming to skyrocket every time his name was mentioned.

“ARE you feeling okay, y/n/n? you’re all jittery” kie pointed out, her eyes locking with yours through the vanity mirror as you slowly brushed through your hair.

“i’m okay, kie— really. just nervous for tonight i guess” you shrugged, your response seeming convincing enough as she nodded.

“hey slow pokes! hurry up or we’re going to be late” jj called, pounding on the door making you and kie jump.

“fucking assholes” you mumbled.

MIDSOMMARS was something you always looked forward to.

the lights, the food, the beautiful dresses and people you got to meet—which was rare considering how almost everyone there were stuck up kooks who’s only personality trait was having money.

all except rafe.

he was different towards you, a lot different it was scary.

“jj, don’t get into any more fights, k?” kie sighed, licking the pad of her thumb before dragging it across his face—getting rid of the dirt that had formed there.

he didn’t say who specifically it was with—the fight��just claiming it was with some stupid kooks who didn’t know when to stop talking.

“yeah yeah” he mumbled, running his fingers through his hair before sending you both a small smile.

he picked up his tray and spun it on his finger before sending her a wink, a blush coming to kie’s face as she quickly looked away.

“soooo, you and jj....” you said, the girl’s eyes rolling as she playfully pushed you away.

“enough about me, what about you?”

“me?” you raised an eyebrow, “what about me?”

“don’t play dumb, y/n/n. i’ve seen you come back late with hickeys.”

you grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waiters walking by and took a long sip from it, your eyebrows twisting together— “this is good, you should try it.”

kie was about to protest until the music started to kick up again, your favorite song playing making you gasp.

you quickly placed the glass on an empty table before taking her hands and pulling her towards the dance floor.

“let’s dance!”

unknown to you—rafe had been watching you ever since you stepped foot into the venue.

IT was almost one in the morning when everyone had left, you and kie sitting at one of the empty tables while you waited for jj to finish up.

you hadn’t had that much to drink, but you could say you were a little tipsy.

“ready to go?” jj asked while throwing his arms around you both, a sarcastic grunt dropping from your lips at the sudden weight.

“we were about to leave yo-”

“well, well, well...if it isn’t the golden trio” a familiar voice spat, your head snapping to the side as your eyes fell on the devil himself.

rafe cameron and his little minions.

“if it isn’t daddy’s money, dumb, and dumber” kie snapped back—referring to topper and kelce who were standing on either side of him.

“put your dog on a leash maybank before we do it ourselves” rafe threatened, only causing jj to break from your side and lunge at the boy.

“jj, stop” you said, grabbing his arm as kie yanked him back, “he wants a reaction.”

“i didn’t see you there, y/n. so quiet and small, hard to notice you.”

which was obviously a lie. rafe noticed you the second he walked into the stupid party.

“what do you want, rafe? getting bored at the country club?” you asked, your lips dropping into a fake pout.

“actually the country club is entertaining, unlike some needy bitches who can’t satisfy my needs.”

your face dropped as kie gasped beside you—jj completely unaware of what was going on but still pissed at the way rafe was speaking to you.

rafe’s face dropped slightly at the realization of what he just said, nothing but lies falling from his mouth as his eyes filled with guilt.

“fuck you.”

YOU didn’t remember much after that. just the events taking place of jj trying to throw another punch at the boys before getting dragged away by kie.

the poor girl was trying to control her hot headed friend while the other was on the verge of tears.

but you refused to cry.

in front of rafe or not, you would not let yourself cry over him.

all you remember is crashing at john b’s house and waking up with a massive headache.

your legs were draped over kie’s as the two of you slept on john b’s bed, the boys taking the couch in the living room.

light from the outside peeked through the curtains as your eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness.

your phone laid next to you on the comforter as your hands dragged it closer.

what you weren’t expecting was a shitload of texts from rafe.

rafe cameron: i’m really sorry

[sent 1:34am]

rafe cameron: y/n

[sent 1:34am]

rafe cameron: i didn’t mean anything i said

[sent 1:36am]

rafe cameron: i was drunk and wasn’t thinking

[sent 1:40am]

rafe cameron: please hear me out

[sent 1:41am]

rafe cameron: meet me at our place

[sent 1:49am]

rafe cameron: 7:30am

[sent 1:51am]

you groaned loudly while reading his texts, the need to throwup swirling in your stomach as you tossed your phone to the side.

you ran your hands over your face as you thought on what to do, biting your bottom lip in the process as you stared at the wall in front of you.

after what felt like an hour of pondering, you let yourself slip off the bed and grab your hoodie that was thrown on the floor.

you were going to see him.

‘WHAT if she doesn’t show’ rafe thought to himself as he sat in the sand, his eyes locked on the waves crashing in front of him.

he was stupid last night.

the boy made a stupid mistake that he regretted deeply.

he just needs to show you how sorry he is.

“rafe.”

his head snapped in the direction of your voice, your figure standing a few feet from his as he then quickly stood up.

he dusted off his pants before nervously making eye contact, his throat suddenly drying up as he attempted to swallow what felt like a rock.

“y/n, i’m s-so so sorry for what i said yesterday. i-i didn’t mean any of it-”

“so what? i’m supposed to forgive you?” you cut off, raising an eyebrow as his mouth fell slightly, “what if it happens again?”

“i-it won’t! i swear it won’t. i was just drunk and jealous and really fucking stupid” he blabbered on, his hands shaking as he tried to defend himself.

“jealous?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing together as he nodded his head shamefully.

“of you and that stupid pogue.”

“jj?!”

he seemed to visibly retract from your words, his eyes narrowing as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“yeah, him.”

“so you acted the way you did...because of jj?” you slowly asked, his eyebrows knitting together as he stared at you.

“i didn’t mean it, y/n...” he frowned, his face dropping slightly as you waited for him to continue, “please give me another chance, i’ll show you how sorry i am—how much you mean to me.”

it was quiet for a good minute as your thoughts swarmed your mind for a response.

“rafe...”

“y/n, please.”

another minute went by, the only sound coming from the waves crashing along the shore.

“fine.”

IT had been five months since you forgave rafe, and things were honestly going better than you had expected.

after that morning on the beach he took you out on a proper date—ending in him walking you back to your house and even stealing a kiss.

he even stopped starting fights with jj and the other pogues, wanting you to know that he was better than that.

“WHAT do you want to watch?” rafe asked while flipping through channels, one hand holding the remote while the other rested on the small of your back.

“m’not sure, you can pick.”

he hummed in response before clicking on some random channel, not really planning on watching it anyway.

he tossed the remote to the side before looking down at you, admiring your relaxed state with your arms wrapped tightly around his torso.

“you know i love you right?” he suddenly asked, his voice low and soft as he stared at you from above.

“why so gushy, rafe?” you teased, your own head angling up to see him better.

he was so beautiful.

“i’m not gushy,” he rolled his eyes, “i just wanted to remind you.”

you blushed at his words before nuzzling back into the crook of his neck, your lips kissing the delicate skin making him smile.

“i love you too, rafe.”

🏷rafe cameron taglist : @jordynsharum

a/n: could you tell i didn’t know how to end it

#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #obx rafe #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron angst #rafe angst #rafe cameron

722 notes · View notes

wincore · 4 years ago

Text

romeo roulette | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

summary: if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.

genre: soulmate au, office au, fake dating, fluff (a lot), angst (a little), romcom, magical realism (??)

words: 21.2k

warnings: language

song recs: playlist here !

a/n: behold ! a kdrama compressed in a fic ! ok i was lying there was more than a little angst but all in good fun <3 i have never experienced working in an office (thanks to the panny) but i tried making it as accurate as i could !! hope you have fun with this <3

It’s not that you’ve never been looked at with a lover’s gaze, it’s just that whatever look Jaehyun has been giving you is mildly uncomfortable. It’s not supposed to be that way. Hell, even his hand clasping yours are a little too clammy for your liking.

Jung Yoonoh. Get your act together.

You wish he were a better actor than this. For someone used to eyes on him in each and every room he’s in, he’s not very good at making eye contact. You’ll be saving this performance. Not to stroke your own ego but at least you know how to behave under strong gazes.

There are three people staring at the two of you and your fingers intertwined, scrutinizing your postures and the expressions on your faces. Maybe Jaehyun should face them instead of glancing at you wordlessly. He’s a terrible liar for someone who acts so smooth.

You look up with a short smile. The aforementioned three are your coworkers—former class rep at uni and your current boss Doyoung, your friend Soojin and Jaehyun’s friend Sicheng from IT. None of them look happy—like it concerns them. If there was a competition for nosy coworkers, this entire group would be winning awards left and right (and that’s including you).

They’re going to find out, an annoying voice giggles inside the quiet corner of your brain. Like hell, they will. You didn’t take up acting lessons in college for nothing. You just need to focus on the details.

This whole charade dates its beginning to a week ago.

If someone were to tell you Jung Yoonoh from marketing is your soulmate, you would most certainly either laugh or take it as a genuine insult. Hence, you were glad when you found that he isn’t.

It was an accident. You had glimpsed at his soulmark, right below his collarbone, at a particularly wild office afterparty—and somehow, you thought it was fitting that his tattoo was a little red heart. For someone born on Valentine’s day (which you know from a night out with coworkers, not because you’re remotely interested), if his soulmark was not something as disgusting as a heart, it would be the textbook definition of irony. But then again, fate is a funny thing. Your soulmark is a heart roughly the same size, with a little more intricacy in the form of a piercing arrow.

Despite all, however, if someone were to ask you if Jung Yoonoh is the worst person to be your soulmate, the answer is no. You can name at least five coworkers off the top of your head that you’d choose him over. You would choose him over Doyoung (and especially his nagging), you would choose him over Taeyong because he’s too hot and you also don’t like men in a higher position than you are, you would choose him over Jungwoo because you suspect he’s secretly a furry. Jaehyun is certainly better than your deskmate Dongmin who, despite an angelic smile, is: a) too distant to make actual conversation with, and b) in a relationship despite being your soulmate. Sweet-tempered Dongmin doesn’t even know it’s you. You’d love to be the bearer of bad news but this one—you’re not exactly ready for it yourself.

So that’s the explanation for why you hunted down Jaehyun and in a desperate attempt to not seem pathetic, coerced him into a role that has carefully picked benefits for either of you. You just have to bite the bullet sometimes.

“And I get what out of this?”

“Me? Temporarily, that is.”

Jaehyun laughs in amusement and you drop your smile, almost offended. If you were a gift, you’d certainly be an attractive, spicy, hot one—he doesn’t have to look at you so incredulously. In a neat business suit, Jaehyun is as kempt as ever though his tie could do with some more work. As an HR assistant, his appearance pleases you. However as a person, the perfection annoys the hell out of you. He could show himself to be more human. It would make your job (both the actual and the metaphorical) easier.

“I’m leaving,” he announces with a nonchalant exhale. “You keep messing around during work hours like this and people are going to think you’re jobless.”

“Wait!”

You jog up to him and block his path, crossing your arms as you huff at his indignance.

“I said no,” he repeats, and when he tries to evade you, you push him back with your palm flat against his chest. Jaehyun doesn’t show any more discomfort than usual, biting the inside of his cheek.

“You haven’t found your soulmate, right?” you say, taking a deep breath. If you have to resort to psychological warfare, so be it.

His smile wavers and he straightens, no longer leaning against the printer desk. “No. How does that matter?”

“It matters because you’re going to be my pretend-soulmate. Now, don’t be a pussy.”

He opens his mouth and closes it, furrowing his eyebrows. “You can’t always trick me into doing what you want.”

“I’ll ask Doyoung if you say no.”

“See—enough with the tricks, they don’t work anymore. I’ve known you for two years.”

“I really will ask him.”

“Not convincing enough. You don’t even talk to Doyoung outside work.”

You groan into your hand, taking a few moments to come up with another plan. How is your obvious charisma not enough? You certainly can’t tell him how rejected you feel with the whole Dongmin situation even if his rejection hasn’t officially come yet. It’s too embarrassing for a grown adult to go through. You don’t mind being lonely for the rest of your life if you’re successful. There’s a price tag on each decision you make anyway.

“I’ll treat you to lunch every day. I’ll pay.”

You cross your arms, tapping your foot in anticipation. They say the way to a man’s heart is through the stomach. Besides, Jaehyun hates spending his lunch money on himself. This ought to do something.

Jaehyun places his hand in front of his mouth in mock surprise. “Oh no, out of your beloved paycheck? That’s kind of scary, honestly.”

“Jaehyun. Stop messing around. I’m being serious.”

He purses his lips, hesitation across his face. You don’t like the way he thinks, with quiet, lost eyes and no clear giveaways on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

You smile in relief though you try somewhat to not let it show on your face.

“On one condition.”

Your eyes dart across his face, nothing that tells what he might suggest next. You hate when you don’t get to decide on things.

“You have to come visit my family next month and pose as my soulmate—”

“No way.”

“—and when this whole game you’re playing is over, you’re going to say I rejected you.”

You stare at him, weighing the odds.

“Fine,” you say finally, voice pitched in slight annoyance.

Jaehyun shrugs.

“But I tell my parents that I rejected you. Or they’ll come after you with a task force or something.”

You mutter the last part.

He grimaces, holding his breath for a good few seconds and then letting it go.

“Alright. It’s not like mine and your parents know each other—or will ever meet.”

“Fine then,” you say. “We have an agreement.”

“We have an agreement,” he repeats.

Now, back to more pressing matters. The people in front of you aren’t a stupid lot—even if you've seen Doyoung spend $500 on plush toys, seen Sicheng absentmindedly walk into a desk and pretend to not be in pain for the next five minutes and Soojin somehow convinced a senior to get her coffee because she thought he was an intern (in her defence, it worked).

The only way is to act through. You clear your throat.

"We… we discovered it last week. Our signs match."

Technically, you drew an arrow with a permanent marker over Jaehyun's tattoo in an attempt to resemble yours. It's not awful, but perhaps not perfect.

“Discovered? Like just happened to find out?” Doyoung asks.

“Isn’t Jaehyun’s on…” Soojin leans in to whisper hurriedly in your ear. “On his butt? Did you guys sleep together?”

You contort your face in disgust. “The what? What? Who told you that? And no.”

Soojin makes an ‘ah’ sound and leans back. “I should stop listening to office rumours then.”

"You should." You glare at her.

Sicheng is the only one without questions at the tip of his tongue but the look on his face worries you most.

“I’ve never seen your tattoo, now that I think about it,” he muses, turning to Jaehyun. “Although we’re roommates.”

Jaehyun clears his throat, looking around with shifty eyes. "Why is… why is everyone looking so suspicious?"

"It's just… so sudden," Soojin says, looking around at the others.

"Yeah," Sicheng mutters.

"Soulmate fraud is a big deal too, you know that right?" Doyoung informs. "You could get put in jail."

You throw up your hands in exasperation. "Why would we pretend? We don't have any reason to. And, uh, you're sure about the jail thing?"

You look at Doyoung, hoping your question didn’t come off too squeaky.

"You’re right,” he says, sighing. “It’s so unlikely for soulmates to work in the same company, let alone the same building.”

“Oh, yes, I’m so lucky,” you mutter under your breath.

Doyoung sighs. "Look, we're happy for you. It's just that… it's a little sudden."

"Literally what I just said," Soojin says.

"Literally what she just said," Doyoung agrees quickly, not wanting to pick a fight. Sometimes you wonder who the real boss is.

"Look, just because we don't even acknowledge each other or find each other remotely attractive or wouldn't even be each other's office Christmas card candidate—"

Jaehyun nudges your side with his elbow and gives you a look that seems a lot like "You're making it worse".

You clear your throat. "That's what happens to most soulmates! You think you're going to land the perfect one and boom. You get a chump from marketing."

Jaehyun makes a sound of protest. "I didn't want a snob from HR either."

The two of you glare at each other, and you find that clenching his jaw makes Jaehyun slightly (around 0.05%) more attractive, or at the very least more bearable to look at.

Doyoung gasps. "Okay, I get it. You're having adjustment issues. I know a guy for that. He's helped every newly found soulmate couple adjust with each other."

"We don't need that," you interrupt, offering your fakest smile.

"You do," Doyoung responds, his smile equally fake. "I'll drive you this weekend if you're free. He’ll give you one free session. No more, because we all know how capitalism works."

People have got to stop copying your fake smile. You wish you could have it copyrighted because after all, it’s the same smile that tricks interviewees into thinking they got the job. It’s not evil if you say it isn’t. You open your mouth, look at Jaehyun doing the same and when you can't come up with an excuse, give up and nod.

"Don't look so resentful," Doyoung says, tone slightly complaining. "I'm not doing this as your boss. We were friends in college and I'm just doing you a favour. A friendly favour."

Soojin hums in deep thought. "I feel like this is some sort of nepotism."

"I feel like you should open a dictionary once in a while," Doyoung mutters, only to get a vaguely threatening look from Soojin.

"Anyway," Sicheng diverts, eyes curious when he turns to Doyoung. "Why did you call us here?"

"Ah." Doyoung's eyes widen. "I heard promotion rumours."

Sicheng lets out a loud huff of annoyance. "You summoned us here for company gossip?"

Doyoung crosses his arms. “So, you’re not interested?”

“Who said that?” Sicheng responds quickly, leaning in.

The five of you huddle closer in a circle, looking as conspicuous as a cult.

“You guys know that Jinyoung’s leaving, right?” Doyoung starts.

Soojin gasps audibly only to get a smack on the arm from Doyoung. “Why’s he leaving? He's like employee of the month every month. ”

A few chuckles pass through the group at her discontentment from months of losing out on the title.

“I heard he found his soulmate. Lucky ass gets tax benefits too now,” Sicheng complains. “Why is he leaving?”

“Oh, look who’s interested in gossip now,” Soojin coos.

Sichengs turns red in the face and looks away, clearing his throat. “You’re gonna answer my question, Doyoung?”

“Oh! Right.” Doyoung looks up from a text. “He got rejected by his soulmate.”

Soojin covers her mouth this time when she gasps and you can’t say your jaw doesn’t drop as well.

“Rejected? Like our picture-perfect Jinyoung got rejected?” you repeat, trying to process the information. “Please don’t tell me he decided to be an idiot and sign a mutual rejection.”

“No, he didn’t lose his senses,” Doyoung responds with a duh undertone. “He’s getting the compensation money.”

You sigh. “Man, I feel bad for him.”

Jaehyun hums in agreement. There’s a hush over the group and you feel fear rise in your chest. You don’t want to be rejected. You’ve seen how happy Dongmin looks with his girlfriend—he’d reject you in a heartbeat. Of course, you could just receive the compensation money from the one-sided rejection and get it over with but you refuse to. It hurts to not be wanted. It hurts to not be wanted by someone who’s supposed to want you. To be specific, it hurts your pride. Every time you see the damn arrowed heart on Dongmin’s wrist, which he tries so hard to cover with his watch, you feel like throwing up. You’re glad yours isn’t as easy to spot—resting right above your hip bone.

“Anyway, someone’s getting promoted to that HR specialist position.”

You gasp. “Is it me? It’s me, right?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes and you elbow him. “What’s with you?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he says, shrugging. “Isn’t it stupid to get your hopes up over a rumour?”

Doyoung breathes out. “Wow, (name) really sucked the life out of you, Jaehyun.”

You glare at him when Soojin breaks into a fit of laughter. “You- you know what that- you know what that sounds like, right?”

Your face contorts into disgust and you shake your head. “Let’s be more professional, alright, Soojin?”

She clears her throat and straightens her clothes, like a teenager being reprimanded. “I’m your senior. It’s embarrassing when you say that to me.”

Jaehyun speaks up and turns to you. “I think lunch break is almost over.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So?”

“You’re forgetting something.” He smiles, dimples showing, but his eyes come off menacing.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You forgot about that stupid lunch promise.

“Hey. Professional,” Soojin warns.

You groan and link your arm through Jaehyun’s, making him bite back a smile. What is it with men and getting weirdly happy about lunch?

“We’re gonna go get lunch,” you announce.

“Ooh, (name)’s ditching quality time with coworkers for dates now,” Soojin coos.

You roll your eyes and exit the office, stopping to wait in front of the elevator.

“I think that went well,” Jaehyun says, shrugging lightly.

“Shh. What if they hear us?”

“Do you think they’re X-men? We’re a long corridor and closed doors away.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Still…”

Jaehyun’s smug smile makes you want to smack it right off and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt this way with him. You swear he’s not as bad as some of the guys you’ve met but Jaehyun is simply annoying. An A grade nuisance. You can trust him though. If Soojin says he’s a reliable guy, you’ll believe her—she doesn’t bluff when it comes to seeing right through men, though she does have a tendency to believe stupid rumours.

“Your acting was shit though,” you snipe.

Jaehyun lets out a low sardonic laugh. “At least I was subtle when I was messing up.”

You cross your arms and huff. “You know what? You can take the next elevator ride.”

“Huh?”

You step into the elevator just as the doors open and quickly jam your finger to the close doors button. The look of betrayal on Jaehyun’s face is subtle but it’s enough to satisfy you. As the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens—it’s very applicable to elevators. He can take the other one.

However, almost immediately after, the elevator doors open and you groan, opening your mouth to send a sarcastic congratulations to Jaehyun for pressing the button on time.

Your words hitch on your tongue. Dongmin greets the two of you with a smile, standing beside Jaehyun, who has his eyes averted from you.

“Hey,” Dongmin greets. “Congratulations. I heard the news.”

“Thanks,” you croak, clearing your throat with a bit of heat on your cheeks. Jaehyun looks like he might burst into a fit of laughter any moment and you shoot him a subtle glare.

“Where are you headed to?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m going to grab a sandwich from the cafeteria.”

“We’re also headed to the cafeteria,” Jaehyun declares, with a smile that’s almost devilish.

“No, we’re not,” you say quickly, making Dongmin raise an eyebrow. You hold back a groan. If only Dongmin weren’t raised to be the politest man you know and a little bit more of an asshole.

You hum and turn to Jaehyun. “I told you about that new cafe. Remember, honey?”

Dongmin makes an ‘o’ with his mouth. “Nicknames, already? Ah, I’m so jealous. It must be great to get along with your soulmate.”

Oh, the sweet summer child that Dongmin is.

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “Oh, won’t it take too long, darling? We have—”

He makes a show of checking his Rolex, a gift he received from his superior that he spares no chance to flex.

“—Around ten minutes left.”

You hold back a groan and plaster on your smile. “Come on. Now is the best time.”

“That sounds like a load of—”

You elbow Jaehyun hard in the gut and a restrained sound dies in his throat, eyes widening in the sweet look of discomfort taking over his features. You smile triumphantly and turn to Dongmin with an immediate change of expression.

“I’ll see you in office later,” you say, bowing slightly.

Dongmin nods and gets off on the fifth floor. You watch in quiet relief as the elevator door closes and turn to your dear companion, irked.

“Did you have to do that?” Jaehyun asks, voice raspy with pain.

“You deserved it. Don’t you dare make this a bigger mess than it already is.”

“You came up with it.” Jaehyun straightens, finally. Apart from the few loose strands of his neatly parted hair, he doesn’t seem all that disgruntled.

“And we’re going to set some ground rules,” you declare, closing your arms.

Jaehyun straightens to his full height, the space between the two of you diminishing.

"Okay," he agrees. "Then we both get a say in it. It's a contract, after all."

"Fine. First rule, no being weird around Dongmin."

Jaehyun chuckles. "I think you need to be more careful about that than I do."

You pat his cheek. "Focus. Just don't- don't be around him for too long."

Jaehyun purses his lips. "Why are you so uncomfortable around him? I thought you were doing this because you didn't want to reject him."

You glance away, feeling uncomfortable. "It doesn't matter. I just don't want him to know."

Jaehyun hums. "Fine. My turn. No calling me a chump."

Your cheeks puff up as you try to contain your laughter. "It bothered you that much, huh?"

Jaehyun furrows his brows. "No one's ever called me that before. It's always 'oh my god, he's so handsome, who is he?' or 'ooh, I might faint from how hot he is'."

You giggle. "Alright, handsome."

Jaehyun exhales, his puffed cheeks making him look like a resentful five year old instead of a grown man with a professional job. You pause before you get back on track.

“No nicknames,” you blurt. “It’s weird when you call me something endearing. And your flirting feels kind of threatening.”

“What do you mean, baby?”

“See! You’re doing it again.” You cross your arms at the look on his face; anything close to victorious over Jaehyun’s features is unbearable to you.

He raises his arms in exasperation. “How are we supposed to make this work if we act like we don’t care about each other. Guess why Doyoung’s taking us to couple therapy?”

You huff, slightly pissed off. “You’re saying it was my fault?”

“I’m saying we could have avoided that with better acting.”

“You think you’re so—”

The elevator door opens with a ding on the first floor and you turn to find a bunch of interns back from their lunch break. It would be much less of an awkward affair if you and Jaehyun weren’t well into each other’s personal spaces, noses almost touching and with a mutual glare which could be easily mistaken for a look of something more sensual. You jump away from Jaehyun and leave the elevator as fast as you can, feeling far too conscious of yourself. With long strides, you exit the corporate airs of the building to a sunny, fairly populous sidewalk.

Jaehyun catches up to you, bending and trying to catch a glimpse of your face with an incredulous smile over his.

“Don’t say a word, Yoonoh.”

“Ooh, you’re saying my name now.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I find it plenty funny.”

“That’s because of your trash sense of humour.”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look so smug.”

Mondays are the days that make you want to scream in agony, not Thursdays—though they are pretty high up on the worst days of the week list. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe pretending to be in love with someone you simply cannot be in love with is an awful idea.

Soulmates don’t need to be in love with each other, you think to yourself. There’s plenty of soulmates who are just in it for the financial benefits; you can just pretend to be one of them. This dilemma is starting to fray your nerves and Jung Yoonoh, with his lax disposition and dimpled cheeks, is making it worse. And to top it off, you now have to take him to your favourite (kind of secret) cafe in the name of the lies that slipped your tongue. It was supposed to be a quiet comfort spot for you.

You blow a puff of air out and dismiss the thought. Comfort spots aren’t real anyway when you’re all grown. There’s bound to be a breach.

However, you will not let the (lacking) romance department of your life get sorted out by someone who doesn’t even know you. Lady luck would be an acquaintance to you at most. If fate is a game of chance after all, you might as well be the one spinning the roulette. You look at Jaehyun, piecing together the perfect plan for this seemingly frivolous play-pretend. The game is in your hands now.

You blink at the figure of Jung Yoonoh under February sunlight on a modestly busy sidewalk. It’s not something to be surprised at—however, the stark contrast in attire makes you stare longer than you intend to. Wearing a black graphic hoodie and pair of worn out jeans, Jaehyun looks about as casual as you can bear. It’s always weird to see coworkers out of formal clothing.

“Are you just going to stare at me till Doyoung comes and picks us up?” he asks.

You roll your eyes.

“You look nice,” he says, and you glance down at your outfit with a flush of heat over your cheeks. It’s just a short A-line skirt, stockings and a sweatshirt. This is as basic as you get. What’s worse is that his comment didn’t sound sarcastic.

“You- You look nice too. I guess.” Once in a while, you will say something extremely stupid and pretend it never happened. The frequency increases around Jaehyun for some damn reason.

“You guess? I’m pretty sure I look more than nice.”

“And how long did you look at yourself in the mirror and practise catchphrases this time?”

Jaehyun’s ears turn the shade of cherries and you press down your smile. You knew that time you caught him talking to himself in front of a car window would play to your advantage.

“What’s that you’re holding?” you ask, eyeing the plastic bag he’s holding.

“Ginseng,” he answers, staring blankly at the cars passing by. “I heard the couples therapist is in his sixties so he might find it useful.”

“Oh, old people stuff,” you muse quietly. “That’s quite thoughtful of you.”

You should’ve brought something, you think for a moment before realizing that couples probably don’t give separate gifts.

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

You shake your head. “Anyway, we might as well kill some time. Twenty questions. Let’s go.”

He laughs. “What are we, in college?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Don’t make us sound like we’re thirty. I bet you’re the kind of guy who has his retirement plan figured out.”

“Wrong,” he emphasizes, face leaning closer.

“Fine. I’ll start the questions, you unsalted block of butter. How many relationships have you been in?”

Jaehyun opens his mouth and closes it, ears turning red. “That’s your first question?”

You roll your eyes. “Okay. I’m guessing it’s single digit and on the lower side.”

He rolls his eyes. “How many relationships have you been in?”

You shut your mouth. There’s a moment of silence, a breeze passing you by, carrying winter away in its arms to make room for spring.

“Never found a relationship worth it,” you mutter, glancing away.

Jaehyun hesitates before opening his mouth. “Me neither.”

“Good thing for us, eh? Love makes people crazy.”

Jaehyun faces you with a clipped smile. Never did you think Jaehyun from marketing would be relating to you on a personal matter.

“Oh, but I’ve had enough hookups and I can bet you’re mediocre at best in bed.”

Jaehyun glares at you. “I am not and I can prove it to you.”

“Is that an invitation into your bed? No, thanks.”

He opens his mouth to retort but is interrupted by the Hyundai Grandeur pulling up to the sidewalk and rolling down the driver window to reveal Doyoung. He looks as overworked as usual, but his eyes are more tired, a bit of makeup covering the dark circles. You’ve heard his soulmate is a makeup artist for an idol group and wonder how they even came to be. Does fate throw darts randomly and pick its choice?

“Get in. Quick,” Doyoung instructs. “I have to drop you off and head home. My family is visiting. I didn’t even get a warning and they think I’m in a gay relationship with Taeyong because we still have our friendship rings from college.”

You want to laugh and agree but Doyoung looks rather pissed off so you hold it in. The two of you do as told, getting in the backseat and shutting the doors in sync. The car smells rather leafy mingling with the scent of fresh clothes and you eye the jar dangling from the rear-view mirror. You open your mouth to ask what scent that is when Doyoung’s voice rings out.

“What’s that?” Doyoung signals to the bag with Jaehyun.

Jaehyun looks down. “Ginseng extract.”

“Oh, the gift pack?” Doyoung asks.

Jaehyun nods and Doyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “If that’s for Mr. Lee, forget it. He hates gifts. Something about inward appreciation and shit.”

Jaehyun groans, massaging his forehead. “What do I do with this then? Is this guy a priest?”

“Give it to Doyoung,” you suggest. “His family’s visiting.”

You hear an audible hum of approval from the driver seat and turn to Jaehyun making a face of reluctance. Maybe he isn’t so magnanimous after all, you think smiling.

“You’re both quite tame today,” Doyoung remarks, just when the silence is starting to swallow the inside of the car. “Makes me wonder if you need Mr. Lee after all.”

“We actually don’t…” You shake your head. “We’re here and it’s free so why not?”

Jaehyun shoots you a questioning look. It’s not like you can cancel when you’re in Doyoung’s car and already on the way. You’ve known your boss long enough to know the wrong answer to his questions. You look outside at Seoul streets and sigh.

Jaehyun looks at you, your focus elsewhere and wishes this would end already. He has no idea what overcame him to accept your ridiculous offer but he must be just as ridiculous. At the very least, he finds you quite lovely to look at—not that he’d ever admit it to you. The foundation to this weird bickering friendship (if he can call it that) would be ruined by that. His ego, however, has been boosted up a few notches from the fact that you called him for help. He looks outside the window, holding back a smile. It’s a sunny day.

The therapist, Mr. Lee’s office building is a fancy one with an even fancier lobby. Baby pink leather couches cushion your bum nicely as you wait for your appointment. The architecture is that of a corporate firm and you feel quite at home with the large glass walls by the revolving door. This therapist guy must be rich as hell. The receptionist wears a formal uniform; her blouse is light pink with a grey pencil skirt and you like the look of it. You wonder if asking her where she bought it is time-appropriate. More couples sit around you and you, unfortunately, have to scoot closer to Jaehyun as a result. You do not want to catch that disease they all have. Why are they even here for therapy if they’re smiling at each other in that sickly enamored way?

Now that you’re here, you’re starting to feel that this arrangement was ill-decisive. You should’ve done a better job of acting. You wonder if you can get a refund for that college course on acting, pouting as the ticking wall clock gets on your nerves. Even the marble floors are pink; the walls are mahogany red and there’s a heart-shaped wall clock, and should you glance around more, you’re going to nauseate yourself. This guy certainly takes his job seriously—or just really likes pink-red themes.

A woman in her early thirties exits the elevator and announces your names, and you click your tongue at the fact that she used Jung for your surname. It sounds distasteful.

You follow her, starting to get nervous. You really hope this Mr. Lee isn’t as good as Doyoung says he is. Your fraud falling apart within three days is too embarrassing a defeat, not to mention bordering on illegal if found out. What the fuck does the government care about broken hearts and beneficial relationships? It’s so nosy. You understand the financial situation in case of happily bonded soulmates but apart from that, there really shouldn’t be this much discrepancy in the name of love.

Love drives people crazy. You’d rather not lose your good sense in the name of something so inane. After all, money makes the world go around, not love.

Restricting a gag at the deep red heart on the door, you push them open with Jaehyun to find an old man sitting on a similar baby pink couch as in the lobby. He gets up to greet the two of you, the wrinkles on his face deepening when he smiles. Despite everything, he has a sort of grace to him, the one that comes with growing old elegantly. An upbeat song plays on a record player attached to the wall, although at a very low volume, and the tune reminds you of Animal Crossing.

“Doyoung told me about the two of you,” Mr. Lee says, gesturing at the two of you to sit down. “How long has it been since you found out?”

“Six days,” you answer at the same time Jaehyun answers, “Four days”.

The two of you look at each other.

“Four-Six days. We didn’t keep track.”

“Ah,” Mr. Lee says. “How do you propose to celebrate your anniversary?”

You hesitate opening your mouth and declaring that you don’t really need to do that crap. Mr. Lee notices your expression and breaks into gentle laughter.

“I’m kidding. Anniversary dates don’t matter,” he laughs. “It’s okay to celebrate your 100-day on the wrong day. Don’t worry.”

You purse your lips. To your dismay, Jaehyun isn’t as bothered by the sickly pink environment and Mr. Lee’s relaxed demeanour.

“I have a hundred percent success rate,” Mr. Lee assures the two of you, looking directly at you.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” you mutter under your breath and get a nudge from Jaehyun, who has his politest smile on.

You can’t believe Jaehyun has a better customer service mode than you do. If you didn’t know him, you’d be fooled into thinking he’s the nice guy character every office has. Unfortunately, that one goes to Dongmin. You hate getting stuck with nice guys (unless they offer financial stability).

“I think Doyoung might have been exaggerating,” Jaehyun explains calmly. “Whatever he told you.”

“He told me the two of you have a bickering problem. And staring at each other when the other isn’t looking.”

You cough. “That is not true. The staring part.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you. “I knew you were checking me out,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes. “Keep dreaming, Jaehyun.”

Mr. Lee laughs. “Your bickering seems to be quite affectionate. I don’t know what that boy was worried about.”

You press your lips together into a thin smile, annoyed that anyone would ever describe your interaction with a man as affectionate. It makes you feel like an idiot. You were always better off alone—the universe was wrong to assign Dongmin to you. Maybe you needed to see the apparent love of your life clearly in love with someone else to snap you to reality.

“However, what is a playful lover’s fight in the beginning can turn into real fights.”

“Right,” you mutter. “It’s all fun and games in the beginning.”

“The two of you have almost no animosity—you’ve known each other before you discovered the soulmark, right?”

The two of you nod, having already reconciled yourselves to this session. It’s a one-time thing, you tell yourself. It will be over soon.

“The soulmate information shouldn’t influence the relationship you already had. If anything, it should be drawing you closer. First time awkwardness is common.”

He’s starting to sound a lot like your high school sex ed teacher. You get the idea to pretend to be sick and get out of this early.

“Company policy too,” Jaehyun mutters. “Unofficial company policy makes office romance out to be some sort of sacrilege.”

“You know, I was the CEO of your company so I do know the policies,” Mr. Lee says, smiling in the confident, reserved way senior citizens offering wisdom do.

You choke on the water you were taking a sip of, a coughing fit overcoming you and Jaehyun hesitates before awkwardly patting your back.

“Huh? CEO? I’m sorry?” you manage.

Mr. Lee lets out a loud, hearty laugh. “I stepped down two years ago.”

“That’s when I joined,” you and Jaehyun say at the same time.

Mr. Lee smiles at the two of you wordlessly. “I have an idea for the two of you. Why don’t you try turning your ‘I’s into ‘we’s? Do some activities together and when you talk about it, you’ll find yourself much closer.”

You narrow your eyes. “You know, Mr. Lee, I’m a little curious about your relation with the company—”

“My recommendations won’t help you get promotions faster.”

“Dammit.”

Jaehyun chuckles beside you but a glare from you turns it into a suppressed smile. The one thing that wouldn’t be a waste of time opened its door and closed it right back.

“But you know how promotions work,” you press, leaning forward.

An alarm rings, so pleasant in tone that you know it’s a Samsung. Unfortunately, it’s the ugly flip model and you question Mr. Lee’s taste (and wealth).

“Oh, look, time’s up,” Mr. Lee announces, and you think you catch a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Jaehyun springs up before his ears turn red, embarrassed by the gusto with which he himself got up and looks at you expectantly. You get up, sighing.

“Next time, Mr. Lee,” you warn. “I will get those details.”

“I charge by the hour.” He smiles.

“Stop threatening the therapist,” Jaehyun mutters to you, taking your arm and turning to leave.

“Oh, and,” Mr. Lee calls. “It’s always better to be honest than to pretend.”

You blink in surprise when Jaehyun tugs at your arm, bowing in thanks and leaving the room with you.

“Was it just me or did he see through us?” you whisper to Jaehyun.

He shakes his head, whispering back, “There’s no way he could tell. He’s probably referring to something else.”

“Like what?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

“Tell me, are you always so domineering towards strangers even?” he asks. “I just thought you liked to press my buttons because I’m easygoing.”

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not as cool as you think you are, especially since you get so hot and bothered by me.”

“It’s just you,” he whispers earnestly and your pulse rises. “No one else.”

You cough to kill the awkward silence and walk faster to the elevator. Jaehyun follows at a leisurely pace and it’s never occurred to you before but the sound of someone’s footsteps can also be annoying, proof currently standing beside you.

The elevator doors open, and much to your appallment, a young couple happens to be full blown making out inside the elevator, hands where there certainly shouldn’t be in broad daylight. Jaehyun whips his face away, clearing his throat loud enough for the couple to detach themselves from each other and hurriedly exit, fixing their clothes on the way.

“So he wasn’t lying about the success rate,” Jaehyun states quietly, a look of resigned horror on his face.

You can’t even respond for a few moments, following him into the elevator and shaking your head to get rid of the thought that inevitably jams itself inside your head. It might have a point, however.

"Maybe we should kiss too," you think out loud.

Jaehyun stiffens, looking at you with wide, fearful eyes. "No."

"We have to kiss, we're dating!" You exclaim, hands on your hips.

"We're not actually—ah, whatever. It’s not worth bickering with you."

"Why? Afraid you'll fall in love with me?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, and you’re suddenly aware that your bickering keeps drawing you closer to each other, your faces nearer than you’d realized.

"If anything," he starts with a confident smile. "You better not fall in love with me."

"Oh, please. You're taking this way too seriously."

"You're the one that wants to kiss me."

Your cheeks heat up. "You're- I- That's not—argh, fuck you."

Jaehyun looks smug, and you have the unstoppable urge to punch it off his face. You take a deep breath. Violence is not the way, (name).

“If we were a few years younger, you’d be begging for mercy under me,” you seethe.

Jaehyun’s eyes shift over your face in confusion, ears burning bright red with each passing second. Before he can open his mouth, you let out a short yell.

“Not like that, you pervert,” you say, leaning away from him.

“I didn’t even say anything. On an unrelated note, were you a delinquent in school?”

You roll your eyes. “Kind of. I had a temper and a sharp tongue.”

“And now you’re a people pleaser. That’s quite the development.”

You smack his shoulder. “You’re getting on my nerves, punk.”

He makes an ‘oh’ with his mouth before smiling. “You totally did the delinquent accent.”

“I’m guessing you were the shy, little boy who flushed red at conversations about kissing.”

Jaehyun clears his throat in annoyance. “I was not. I was quite popular in high school and college, you know?”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “It’s that face of yours.”

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

“Oh, look, we’re on the first floor.” You exit the elevator, leaving a puzzled Jaehyun to follow in stumbling steps.

“I don’t think Doyoung’s picking us up,” you state. “You take the bus? Or do you have a car to flex? I don’t ride in anything below a Tesla, unless it’s Doyoung because he’s technically my boss.”

“You’ll have to do with good old rented Hyundais,” he answers.

You exhale. Maybe he’s getting used to you. The bus stop is opposite the building, the structure squeaky clean and a bunch of people waiting on the seats. It’s a busy place and you wonder if the scammy-therapist-slash-your-former-ceo’s business has anything to do with that. You sit the first chance you get, shoulders pressed against Jaehyun’s for the lack of space and admiring the passing traffic. Seoul really just depends on the lenses you see through. Work days make the screen tinted grey and blue and you hate them often but some days, it’s good to experience those. Weekends are brighter, sunny and usually not with Jaehyun but he doesn’t really put a damper on them either.

You scan his side profile, a little envious when you realize that his confidence isn’t misplaced. You might have trained yourself to be more of a pleaser over the years but he’s the sort of person people come to like naturally. Moreover, his skin is perfect and his hair is always looking styled even in a mess. Fate and Life are partners in crime when it comes to being unfair.

Jaehyun turns to look at you and you snap your head to your lap, turning on your phone and staring at the homescreen for a good few seconds.

“Twenty questions,” Jaehyun announces. “Let’s play again. I’ll go first. Do you check me out when I walk away?”

“What is this, playing my own cards against me?” You scoff. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“So, yes or no?”

“Sometimes,” you mutter. “But it’s not the good kind of checking out. I’m checking out how terrible you look with your mess of a tie.”

Jaehyun laughs, the sound a hearty rumbling sort and you can’t help but smile back at that. It’s kind of cute when he laughs—the sound of it and the way his cheeks are dusted pink.

“My turn,” you say with a cheeky smile as you lean in to whisper. “Have you ever had a wet dream about me?”

Jaehyun chokes on air, coughing out the surprise as he stares at you dumfound. You stick the tip of your tongue out and throw him a wink, thoroughly enjoying this victory against him. It feels great to fluster someone like Jaehyun.

“No,” he says with clear emphasis.

“Even the night you said I was so unbearably hot very loudly to Sicheng?”

Jaehyun leans back sighing, covering his face with his hand. “I was tipsy. And it was my first night out with coworkers. Give me a break.”

You giggle. “Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. There were worse incidents that night. An intern threw up on Doyoung’s shoes—I can’t even imagine the horror the poor girl experienced.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling through his hand.

“Have you ever sent nudes?” you ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

He sighs. “Maybe. Have you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

He curls his lips. The answer seems to be no but you’re at least seventy percent sure he would be attracted to you in a world where your personality traits weren’t being nosy and annoying.

“Do you think you’re a good kisser?” Jaehyun asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Definitely.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You cross your arms.

He shrugs, leaning in slightly as though flirting (if he had the audacity). “We could test that.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “What happened to no kissing in the contract?”

“It’s not officially there.”

You roll your eyes, glancing away. “You know, I’m starting to believe you were some sort of desperate fuckboy in college.”

“I- I was the hottest dude on campus and if we went to the same college, you would be pining after me. I literally had the Campus Prince title and girls would follow me to see me in class.”

He crosses his arms, a frown tugging down his lips.

“Ooh, Jung Yoonoh’s getting fired up,” you say in a monotonous voice. “Wonder how many girls you pulled with your chewed up fuckboy dialogue.”

Jaehyun scoffs but he clearly finds your accusations amusing, as hinted by his unbothered smile. He asks a question again.

“What’s more important to you—truth or happiness?”

The question catches you off-guard. Jaehyun’s eyes are delicately curious, nothing too strong and even so, you find yourself holding your breath under his gaze.

“Huh?”

“Twenty questions. We were playing?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“Right.” You clear your throat, rubbing the back of your hand. “I… I’d choose happiness, I think. I’m… I’m not sure.”

“Really?” He doesn’t look too hellbent on taking apart your answer so you breathe out. He’s starting to pry into you finally. “I think the truth will make you happier.”

“That’s not- that’s not always true.” You look away, hoping the quietness of your voice ends the conversation there. You don’t know how to talk about it—you never really have. You’ve ugly cried over the lack of your love life to a stranger after five shots of whiskey but you don’t think you can talk about things like this sober. You don’t even know why you answered. Jaehyun makes you feel oddly comfortable.

Jaehyun shrugs, getting up when the next bus halts in front.

“What did you major in?” you ask, following him.

“Business,” he answers before thinking. “Kind of hated it. But I started out with IT and that was somehow worse.”

You gasp, taking a seat beside him on the bus. “I started with IT too! It was a nightmare. You took that Database Management course?”

Jaehyun smiles. “It was like the course equivalent of reading the back of a Wi-Fi Router.”

You laugh. Maybe he isn’t so different after all.

“You know, you do look like a business major,” you hum, furrowing your brows as you pretend to scrutinise him.

“So, you’re indirectly saying I either look like a rich kid or a jackass.” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“They’re both the same thing.”

The laughter from the two of you makes an old woman behind you grunt in displeasure and the two of you apologize. It’s nice to talk like college kids again. The Seoul sunlight shines on Jaehyun’s face and you bite back a smile when his dimples appear. They aren’t all that bad. If you get along like this, there’s no reason to worry about fate and the universe and other superfluous things offered to you on a boring old ceramic plate. It’s a smooth ride.

Your eyes drift to Dongmin’s workspace instinctively and you shake your head. This is exactly why you were avoiding him and even started the entire fake relationship with Jaehyun. You’d choose fake dating a (good-looking) chump from management over embarrassment and possible heartbreak any day.

You groan internally before glancing again and find the desk empty. Surprised, you blink and turn only to scream at Dongmin’s figure behind you.

“Shh!” he says urgently. “Don’t move. And don’t panic when I say this but there’s a bug on your shoulder.”

“What the fuck? Get it off, please,” you say, voice choking up.

Dongmin rolls up a stack of papers and you let out a low screech. “Don’t kill it on my shoulder!”

“Sorry,” he says and your eyes soften as he gently pushes the paper against your shoulder and takes it away. You breathe a sigh of relief and he signs you a thumbs up as he wiggles the paper in the air outside the window.

“You saved me,” you say, smiling.

He returns it, his most beloved eye smile making you wonder if you made the right choice. Wouldn’t it be fun to just crash everything and watch it burn? You know you want to. Benevolence and grace were never your style. However, it’s his smile again that stops you. Maybe you don’t really want to be the bad guy after all. You’re sparing him from confusion and dread.

You’re sparing yourself from rejection and inevitable loneliness (yay).

It’s been a week, discussing details with Jaehyun before the both of you collectively decided to just wing it and hope you’re not caught. After all, there’s no real way to prove you’re not soulmates if you’re careful enough (the same way you can’t prove someone’s cheating if they’re careful enough but that’s quite a depressing analogy). Perhaps if you renounce the soulmate benefits (and Dongmin didn’t smile as often at you), it would be less morally taxing. You, however, are greedy. When you want something, you’ll do anything to get it.

You stare at the computer screen and sigh, cross checking the employee records for incorrect data and your eyelids start to droop. Of all the days, you just had to be assigned the most boring task on a Friday. You also should’ve gotten sleep instead of getting mad at Jaehyun’s dry responses to your plan of action. It was perfectly viable; unnecessary, but perfect nonetheless.

Soojin rolls her chair backwards into yours. “We’re going drinking tonight. Wanna come? You can bring your boy-toy too.”

You roll your eyes. “As much as I’d love to call him that, he’s still the chump from marketing for me.”

“Or,” Soojin emphasizes. “Your actual soulmate. How lucky is it that you work in the same building, in the same company?”

“I’m not sure if you’re being ironic.” You scroll through the database with trained eyes.

“I’m not. A lot of soulmates don’t even get to see each other because of their line of work. It’s so tragic.”

You’d be glad if you didn’t get to see Dongmin ever too. But you’ll keep that to yourself. You hum in response and hear a sigh from behind you.

“Let’s have fun,” she whines. “Is Jaehyun that much of a downer? He’s one of the hottest dudes in the building. I thought you’d be cheery.”

You pause and think to yourself. She does have a point. You’re definitely supposed to look happier. Your soulmate has the looks of a model and fifteen year old you would fawn over him no doubt.

“It’s the work,” you answer. “I’m working overtime to compensate for my rent.”

You work overtime anyway because you hate heading home to an empty apartment.

“Ah, you signed a new lease, right? Near Songpa?” Soojin looks at you with pity and pats your shoulder. “You know what? I’ll treat you to drinks tonight. You deserve a day off, missy.”

You smile. “Thanks, Soojin.”

“And,” she adds in a singsong voice. “The love of your life is here.”

You furrow your eyebrows before tilting your head and almost sighing in exasperation at the figure of Jung Yoonoh outside the glass door. He may not show it, but you know distress when you see it. You’ve seen enough squirming undergraduates at company interviews.

You quickly get up from your seat, praying that he didn’t mess something up. However, you find it cute when he looks like this, the urge to fluster him even more presenting itself to be rather tempting.

“I think you have a sick obsession with me, Jaehyun.” You cross your arms after closing the door behind you.

He exhales, closing his eyes for a moment before taking your arm and pulling you away from the door.

“Woah, this isn’t high school. You can’t just pull me into a corner to make out.”

Jaehyun’s ears flare hot red and he clears his throat. “You’re in high spirits today.”

You weren’t, actually. Somehow, teasing Jaehyun gives you the same rush as caffeine. You just love when the nonchalance on his face turns into discomposure.

“I came to give Doyoung these files. Or you, since you’re practically his assistant.”

You ignore his comment. “There’s clearly something else.”

“The team sports event is coming up,” Jaehyun starts, hesitating. “I’m not managing it this year. I have to participate.”

“So?”

“So Dongmin has a higher chance of finding us out. What if he sees my mark in the changing room and it all goes to shit?”

“Great! He’ll think you’re his soulmate and I’ll be spared from this nonsense.”

“I’m being serious. It’s already difficult living with Sicheng and having to change with my doors locked. It’s kind of suspicious.”

“Do you guys sleep naked with each other or what?”

“No, but I do sleep with my shirt off.”

“Ugh. Why would you give me that image?” you complain. The image isn’t bad per se but it’s not what you need right now.

“You clearly liked it,” he mutters.

You furrow your eyebrows. “You’re not doing this just to give me a load of unnecessary anxiety, are you? Do you know how swamped with work I am?”

“No, of course not,” he answers, no indication of which question he answered. “Also, is there a reason Soojin’s glaring at me?”

You wave your hand in dismissal. “It’s just the haven’t-warmed-up-to-coworker’s-new-boyfriend glare. Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t seem too relieved but you have more anxious thoughts invading the privacy of your Friday evening. You have to keep up your composure. It could happen one way or another, perhaps in a situation better than a team sports activity, but you have to figure it out. You reject your soulmate anyway—the same way he would.

Glaring at Jaehyun one last time, you get back to your desk. Jaehyun looks at your receding figure and finds himself checking you out, the largest blow he’s taken to his dignity. He shakes his head, breathing in and out. This is so not like him. He’s supposed to be the suave, handsome guy who people can’t seem to get to and yet—yet, you do it so easily. It’s unfair. He swallows his heart and tells himself he’s too old to feel this way. He’ll just drown himself in work and pretend love is a commodity like everyone else with a corporate job is supposed to.

“You know,” Soojin starts when you get back. “Jaehyun kind of looks high if you look at him long enough. Weed is illegal though but who knows? Maybe he’s a bad boy deep down after all.”

“Which rumour have you been paying attention to now?” You sigh deeply.

Soojin laughs. “It’s funny to hear everyone’s opinions. Even if most of them turn into scandalous tall tales.”

“Anyway,” she continues. “I’m clocking out. I’ll get Jaehyun to take you to the sake bar.”

You look at her, puzzled.

“You’re a matching set now,” she follows up and you groan.

“Don’t give me that cr—”

“Toodle-oo! Let’s have some fun before we’re grey and old, eh?”

You sigh and nod. Maybe you should look into a caffeine fix, even if it costs you a mental power outage at the end of the rush. It’s not like you to be so down on a Friday but alas, Fate is as miserable a woman as you are. The sake bar is starting to sound good.

Or, you could always watch a few ASMR cooking videos instead of staring blankly at the employee records. Either way, this Friday better improve by tonight.

“This is going great,” Soojin says, louder than she probably intended after her fourth shot.

“Of course it is,” you mutter.

You haven’t yet had a chance to drink more because of two reasons: one) Soojin is hogging the alcohol and two) it would be embarrassing to get drunk in front of Jaehyun. Adding to your misery, Soojin has been gushing over her soulmate and the way she always makes breakfast for Soojin, listing off every single recipe she’s made. You would love to listen but you’re a tiny bit past your limit.

“Wooh, Jaehyun, you look hot,” Soojin whistles, in more of an older sister manner. “I can almost see your tattoo. Why don’t the two of you show us at the same time and we can take a commemorative picture?”

You cough loudly. “Mine’s on my waist, Soojin. I’m not ready to expose skin.”

“Right. Sorry.” She turns back at lightning speed to bother Dongmin with her stories, who smiles at her politely. It seems so genuine that you’re slightly enamored with it for a moment. There’s Jungwoo from marketing beside him, some more HR employees and thankfully, no interns. Doyoung is the only one partly miserable in the lot, talking into the phone for half an hour now.

“Shit.” Jaehyun nudges you and whispers, “I forgot about the tattoo. This T-shirt makes it very visible.”

You look at him, alarmed. You fix his jacket, startling him, and pull the zipper all the way to his neck, making sure to backhand him on the chin.

“There.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“What do you want me to do about it? God, you’re like a child.”

“I’m like a—okay. Just cover my tattoo with foundation or something.”

“You think I carry around a whole bottle of foundation?”

Jaehyun blinks, deeming it safer to keep his mouth shut.

“Okay. Fine. I have an idea. Come to the washroom with me.”

“Oh my, this isn’t your making out in the corner type of thing, right?”

You glare at him and he shuts up, following you quietly to the surprisingly clean restroom. The fact that it isn’t gendered makes you very glad. You make Jaehyun sit on the low enough basin counter and push your knee against it to balance yourself as you take out a permanent marker from your bag.

“I hope Doyoung doesn’t fire me for sneaking away,” you mutter angrily. “He didn’t even make me receive his calls all day.”

Jaehyun scoffs lightly. “Please, Doyoung adores you and your work ethic. He talks about it more than what I need to overhear. That and Taeyong’s detailed aquarium maintenance rules.”

“He does?”

Jaehyun clears his throat and you hold back bombing him with more questions till you’re done with painting an arrow into his tattoo.

“Isn’t it weird?” He looks at you with round, curious eyes. “Yours is a heart. Mine’s a pierced heart.”

“Hm. Funny coincidence.”

“Do you have to sit on my lap for this?”

“I’m not sitting on your lap,” you hiss. You are kind of close. You train your eyes on his collarbone as you pull his neckline down.

It would be so embarrassing to be caught like this. You’d rather be caught making out with someone in the broom closet. You hold back a pained sigh. Jaehyun has some nerve speaking to you when you’re already annoyed with him. Couldn’t he just have worn his business attire? Why does he get to go home early? Taeyong is far too lenient a boss. You start swearing internally, getting nervous when you think about the consequences of your actions.

“Has anyone ever filed a complaint against you?” Jaehyun asks, and you nudge his chin upwards to draw the line on his tattoo.

“For what? Being perfect and successful?”

“For that attitude. The ‘take what I want’ attitude.”

You roll your eyes. “No. You’re saying it like I’m awful to the core for trying to take what I want. I haven’t got such a bad soul, you know, as souls go. You wouldn't write articles about how good a soul it is but… it’s well enough.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow and you avert your gaze from his eyes. This sort of proximity shouldn’t be bothering you, you shouldn’t be rambling.

The door opens right then and in a fit of panic, you do the unthinkable. You press your lips to Jaehyun’s and pray that whoever walked in has no idea who you are and more importantly, can’t see the permanent marker in your hand.

“I’m so sorry!”

You know that voice. You half regret it when you hear it. Dongmin exits the bathroom as quickly as he entered and you pull away to look at the empty space. Beside you, Jaehyun stays so still that you forget he’s there for a moment. You breathe out in relief though part of you still feels a heavy ounce of regret.

You turn back to Jaehyun and find his doe eyes soft and lost in thought.

“I get it now,” Jaehyun whispers. “It must hurt. That he doesn’t care about the system.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That he’s so reckless about discarding you.”

You separate yourself from him further, standing up and brushing your clothes. “You’re overstepping.”

“Sorry,” he responds quietly.

There’s a pause.

“Did you just kiss me right now?”

“Shut up. I didn’t want him to see us and especially this.” You wave the marker in front of his face.

“You just kissed me in a fit of panic. That’s the first time I’ve seen someone respond to panic this way.” Jaehyun looks a little too smug.

“What are you implying?”

“You wanted to kiss me.”

You scoff. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

You want to knock the smile right off his face but you stick to flicking his forehead, his yell of surprise satisfying. This Friday night was supposed to get better. In fact, you are going to make it better if life won’t. The soju won’t drink itself and you deem that Soojin has had enough.

Ignoring Dongmin’s confused look, you order far too many soju shots to be considered healthy. As you promised yourself, you are going to make this Friday better.

You just had to go and get drunk. Jaehyun stares at you, blinking slowly and wondering just how much you can embarrass yourself before it becomes a burden for him. He has to get you home; you’re practically a matching set now. But are the halves of a pair supposed to take care of the other when they get drunk?

“You know what, guys?” You announce, standing up abruptly and immediately getting pulled back to your seat by Jaehyun. It doesn’t stop your mouth however.

“I hate the stupid system,” you continue. “To tell the truth—”

He smacks his hand over your mouth. Jaehyun has had enough of the silent mini heart attacks you give him. The rest look at him with puzzled looks and he can’t even bring himself to give them a polite smile before dragging you out of the bar. The night breeze is cold enough—maybe it’ll sober you up.

"You're so annoying, Jaehyun," you mutter, massaging your forehead. "Did you know that?"

Or maybe it won’t.

"Never heard that before."

"How do you always keep to yourself and still be the center of attention?" You cling to his arm for balance.

"Have you considered that maybe a polite man isn't as scheming as you think he is?"

You curl your lips. "Stop using big sentences. I hate that I barely know you, and I know everyone."

Jaehyun purses his lips. "You just enjoy the power that comes with figuring people out. Don't you?"

"Whatever you say. I want life to be a nice and smooth ride but then again, I can't even face my soulmate." You let out an airy laugh. "I didn't really need one though."

Jaehyun laughs in disbelief. "You look like you're dying of loneliness."

"Ooh, that's a big claim, Yoonoh."

"You say I keep to myself but what about you? You like hiding, don't you?"

You laugh. "Is this the part where I say we're nothing alike?"

He purses his lips, shaking his head in dismissal. He's just tired of chit-chat with someone who smells like she robbed a liquor store in Itaewon.

“You must think I’m some sort of selfish, vapid, work-obsessed overachiever,” you continue, tilting your head with a blank look in your eyes.

“Well, not exac—”

“But guess what? Your opinions are invalid, Jung Yoonoh. You’re just some chump from marketing. A very good-looking chump but still.”

Jaehyun swears under his breath as you fling your arms open in the same manner a speech-giving patriot fighting for freedom would. Unfortunately, the freedom struggle is private in this day and age, and you just smacked him in the nose instead.

You sigh deeply and he looks at you again, warily now as he holds his nose.

“You’re not exactly wrong either. I’m so empty. Like a bottle of soju with no soju. Could you bring me some?”

Jaehyun massages his temples and solidifies his resolve. He’s had enough stares from people on the sidewalk. With delicate concern, he holds you up with one arm around your waist, balancing your weight evenly so you can stand. Promptly, you bury your face into his neck and an embarrassing, high-pitched squeak evades the filter of his mouth. You’re just so adept at making his days (and nights) worse.

Jaehyun tries his best to carry you to the parking lot without any signs of struggle but good lord, are you uncooperative. Once he’s down lugging you to the passenger seat, he breathes out in relief at long last and makes sure you don’t fold in over yourself dozing off the seat. Getting you to sit up, he finds himself smiling the slightest bit at your smudged lipstick. Even like this, you’re quite pretty.

Realizing what thought came over him, he shakes his head vigorously as if he’s committing a horrible crime. He just has to get you home—Soojin had texted him the address prior to the outing just in case—and then he can go back to pretending whatever he even is supposed to.

The sports event is really just HR and Management trying to one-up the other in a more quantitative way. You’re not really fond of the sweat and heavy breathing that comes with physical exertion if it’s for the sake of competition. Competition is such a childish, masculine way of handling things, especially emotions.

HR is leading in wins, however and that means you have something to rub in Jaehyun’s face. You hate participating but you’re not allowed to opt out without a medical certificate. At least one competition, and you had to choose the three-legged race. All these potential partners, and Dongmin had to choose you.

“I’ll win,” you tell Jaehyun, stopping by him once you exit the changing room. The indoor stadium is usually a recreational facility for senior employees but on sports day, it’s closer to a gladiator arena. The seats are green and occupied by grinning employees, most of them glad for a day off but also upset they don’t get to attend their personal affairs in it.

Jaehyun stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Shouldn’t it be a ‘we’? You need a partner. Oh, are you sad you can’t pick me?”

“Not at all.” You cross your arms, annoyed at his mock pity.

Right then, Dongmin jogs up to you in a blue tracksuit. His hair sticks to his forehead because unlike you, he takes sports very seriously. Jaehyun, on the other hand, just seems to enjoy the competition. As a guilty pleasure, you’d like to see the two of them compete one day. That would be a competition worth betting on.

“I’ll have to borrow your soulmate.” Dongmin laughs. “The race is starting.”

Life strikes again with its poorly timed irony.

“Don’t mind me,” Jaehyun says politely.

The race is easier than you thought it would be considering most of the other employees struggle with teamwork. You’re the HR team for a reason. But then again, you feel a certain hollowness pervade you while you’re pressed to Dongmin’s side. Wouldn’t it be nice?

All you can think is that Dongmin and you are perfectly in sync. The realization comes off as sad despite your victory and the wide grins on both of your faces.

Jaehyun purses his lips and gives the two of you a nonchalant look. He’s avoided getting caught in the changing room quite well. For some reason, he’s glad that you’re winning but also dissatisfied about it. He would certainly feel different if he were participating in that race, wouldn’t he? He would win. Losing a competition is a huge blow to his ego. Lately, he seems to be losing a lot of races. The two of you have been growing closer and he doesn’t mind late night discussions about flawed systems and childhood memories; but the fact that you’re growing on him is something for him to be on edge about. He’s never felt so close to someone, and still so far.

“Oh, they have good chemistry, don’t they?” Doyoung comments beside Jaehyun, before taking a sip from his bottle.

“What chemistry?” Jaehyun snaps and Doyoung almost chokes on the water.

“Chill out, man.” Doyoung eyes Jaehyun’s figure in concern. “She’s like officially yours.”

Jaehyun refuses in a series of sputtering responses. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not jealous. I’m not that kind of man.”

“I didn’t paint you as that kind of man either,” Doyoung mutters before speaking up. “But love, Jaehyun. Love’s a weird thing.”

Jaehyunn ignores his comment and walks down to the grounds, jogging up to you. He immediately forgets to say anything at all. Smooth move, Yoonoh.

You just stick out your tongue at him subtly.

“I told you we’d win,” you say.

Jaehyun crosses his arms. “Congratulations. I thought you, quote, hate this stupid competition for dunces.”

You clear your throat and Dongmin laughs beside you. Before he can offer his bottle, Jaehyun offers his own in a rush. You raise an eyebrow but don’t question it.

“You guys really are a perfect pair.” Dongmin laughs. “Sometimes I wish Mijoo was my soulmate.”

You give him a pitiful smile. There go your happy feelings of victory.

“But I’m happy this way.” Dongmin nudges your shoulder with his. “Don’t give me that look.”

That is not the look he thinks you were giving. You smile.

“What about this? We can go on a double date! Those are fun, right?” Dongmin muses, crossing his arms.

“No,” you and Jaehyun refuse in a panic, and Dongmin blinks in confusion at the overwhelming response.

“I'm more of a homebody,” you explain.

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun agrees.

It makes Dongmin laugh aloud. “Oh, fate didn’t go wrong with the two of you.”

Your smile wavers. Did it go so wrong with you and Dongmin? Jaehyun’s hand brushes yours and you look at him. A perfect side profile and flushed hot cheeks with dimples to die for. You wouldn’t mind being in love with him. You don’t mind love much at all.

Shaking off the thought, you watch as Dongmin leaves the two of you to run to the changing rooms. Eyeing Jaehyun’s red team sweatshirt with “Management” in big typography over the chest, you look back up to his face.

“Why did you jog over here so desperately?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Jealous?”

“Yes. I am irreparably in love with you.”

He leans in quickly and you flinch, making his dimples show up.

“Asshole,” you curse. “I’ll file you for harassment. Don’t do that again.”

“Isn’t it harassment when you feel me up while you draw—” Jaehyun leans in to whisper. “—the soulmark?”

“I would never have my hands near your greasy existence if I could,” you huff, scandalized.

But the thing is, Jaehyun is getting better at this game of flustering each other and you don’t like it one bit.

“Hey, you know Dongmin’s girlfriend?” he asks suddenly.

You nod. “Kind of. I’ve seen her pictures on Instagram.”

Jaehyun pauses before humming in realization.

You cough. “Not that I was stalking them or something. Obviously.”

Jaehyun gives you a knowing smile but doesn’t question anything, much to your aggravation. It would’ve been better if you had a chance to prove you weren’t stalking them but then again, that is exactly what you were doing.

“Well, we went to the same college. Same major too.”

“Are you serious? Wait, how do you know? Does this mean you stalked their Instagram too?”

“Too?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“She’s not exactly the evil homewrecker type,” he says.

“I know that,” you snap. If anything, you feel like the evil homewrecker even if Dongmin’s supposed to be your soulmate.

They’re so reckless. Jaehyun was right—you do blame them in a way. They don’t care who they trample under their nauseating parade of romance. But then again, that parade is better than a personal rejection.

“I’m just saying… don't hold it against them.”

“I don’t remember asking for advice, Jung Yoonoh.”

Jaehyun shrugs, dropping the issue. The preparations for the next race is starting and it has something to do with passing balls from basket to basket—you get bored already when you see Doyoung stretch before shaking hands with Taeyong.

“Wanna get ice-cream? We funded the food truck this year.” Jaehyun looks expectantly at you.

“Sure.”

You contemplate holding his hand for a moment but let that thought bury itself. You don’t have to pretend right now.

Much to your despair (or delight) however, Jaehyun takes your hand absentmindedly as he walks towards the exit. It’s not that you’ve never held hands before, it’s just that Jaehyun’s skin is soft against yours.

“I can’t believe you and Mijoo were in the same course.”

It seems she’s ahead of you in every direction you look to tread on. Of course, you will not be telling Jaehyun that. You don’t exactly feel jealousy—can’t feel jealousy when your life is perfect as it is. And for Jaehyun? You hate to admit it but you’d trade places with Mijoo any day.

“Well, she didn’t really like socializing back then so I didn’t know we were in the same program either.”

You chuckle, glancing down at your intertwined fingers despite your best efforts. It feels nice like this. It feels nice to be wanted by someone—even if it’s a lie.

“Do you think- Do you think they’re brave?” You ask. “They didn’t even hesitate to disregard the system.”

“I think people in love are always brave.”

You hum, looking down at your feet. All the more reason the system fucked up. You were never even supposed to be partnered up. You’re not brave—the face you put on is. The idea of love seems to get further and further away from you.

Just then, Jaehyun tugs at your hand, walking slightly faster and making you complain as you jog to catch up with his long strides. The food truck is fairly large, on the street outside to the stadium entrance. February is catching up with its heat and you curse at global warming for this hot winter day.

“You can take up to five scoops of different flavours,” he informs you, grinning sheepishly. “I guess the cups aren’t large enough for beyond that.”

“I didn’t know you were this passionate about ice-cream,” you say.

“Sicheng rubbed off on me.”

You laugh. IT must have given Sicheng enough stress to develop a sweet tooth. You love the HR Department when you look at the others in your company.

Jaehyun has a nice smile. You don’t know why you think that but you do and now you can’t focus on anything apart from the pink dust sprinkled over his cheeks and the handsome dimples that accompany. You don’t want to stare but clearly, Jaehyun must have been blessed by some divide being if not for fate. Maybe he’s a mess up like you. As far as you know, his soulmate doesn’t exist. That little red heart is so simple that none of the soulmate designs match it.

A rather repulsing part of you is happy about it. You like the feel of Jaehyun’s hands. You like the way he looks at you. You wouldn’t mind it if he were yours.

Jaehyun’s house is as cosy as his mother makes you feel. It’s been a while since you’ve been home and if you were perhaps less emotionally constipated, you would have tears welling up in your eyes. There’s quite a few relatives too but then again, every Asian family jumps at the chance to celebrate something as mediocre as engagements and marriage and soulmate findings. Apparently, hormones are perfectly fine to them once you’re not teenagers anymore.

This isn’t so bad. What was so scary about meeting parents again? Jaehyun’s dad did challenge you with a questionnaire but lucky for you, you know exactly how interviews work. You’ve got enough information on Jaehyun from the man himself for this visit. The briefing he gave you was boring though; you already know what you need to know about Jaehyun.

You sit at the table, while most of the other guests work in the kitchen. Jaehyun’s mother asks you questions about your life, friendly and welcoming in every way possible. Mothers are truly god-sent. You wonder how she produced someone as far from divine as Jaehyun. (Except in looks, perhaps.)

You say that out loud and get a sharp quip from Jaehyun, his mother’s eyes lighting up at your childish interaction.

“Oh my, fate is never wrong!” She remarks with a wide smile. “I’ve never seen Jaehyun open up so much with anyone before. He was such a shy boy in school, you know? All the girls would send letters and confessions and he would just turn red in the face.”

“Mom.” He smiles all too sweet at her but you can see the panic in his eyes.

She rolls her eyes before turning to you. “Darling, you have no idea how proud I feel to see him this at ease. I was honestly getting tired of all the ‘your son is so polite and well-mannered’ comments. Some bickering ought to do him good.”

“Mom,” he repeats, straightening. “I think auntie needs some help setting up the table.”

“Don’t shoo me away yet. I have to tell (name) about the time you were elected class representative in middle school. And all those sports and acting awards.”

“You don’t have to advertise me, Mom,” he says, dropping his face into his hands to rub at his eyes, already growing tired. “I’m already- I’m already hers.”

His mother coos and apart from the expected deep red flush on Jaehyun’s skin, you find yourself feeling hot in the face too. Jaehyun’s aunt calls for his mother right then and you watch as she makes her way to the kitchen entrance, the two women glancing at you and giggling to each other over some shared words.

Jaehyun takes the opportunity to grab your hand and walk away to a more obscure part of the house upstairs. With significantly less relatives, it should be a good hiding spot unless discovered by his giggling cousins that he refuses to introduce you to.

“Aw, what a shy baby,” you coo, smiling at the thought of a younger, easily-flustered Jaehyun.

His ears are bright red and you think that he’s still easily flustered. He just doesn’t show it much anymore—there’s only one dead giveaway.

“Forget everything my mom said,” he instructs. “It’s not important information.”

“Oh, no, darling. Your mother is a gold mine of vital information. You know what? I’m going to go chat her up right now. I’m sure you were quite the teenage dream I should know about.”

Jaehyun grips your wrist before you can escape, pulling your closer.

“Don’t.”

You don’t know if it’s the proximity or the fact that there are most definitely a few family members that could walk in right now—but you find yourself embarrassed as you look at his face. It’s very pleasant, handsome even, and the strands of his hair look irresistibly soft from this distance. You reach your hand out and brush the hair out of his eyes, almost instinctively.

“You have nice eyes, Jaehyun,” you say out loud, not sure why. He doesn’t fluster this time but it makes you all the more aware of your nearness.

Your eyes glance at the bottom of the staircase to see a little girl, around nine, hiding from behind the wall that separates the dining room and the kitchen. You return your gaze to Jaehyun with a smirk.

"We should kiss right now. Your little cousin's watching."

Jaehyun looks mildly disgusted. "Why would I want to kiss you in front of my cousin?"

You roll your eyes. “You don't get it, do you? The fastest way to convince a family is through rumours.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "So?"

"Oh my god, you're an idiot. Nosy cousins are the most effective way to spread rumours."

"Ah." Jaehyun looks enlightened enough for you to continue.

"Okay, but first you need to have these mints." You take out the emergency mints from your purse.

"What? I don't need mints. I have nice smelling breath.”

"Everyone needs mints, Jaehyun. Especially men."

Jaehyun sighs heavily. You take the opportunity to grab his wrist and pull him into a corner.

"Have this mint or else."

You hold his face between your thumb and forefingers, cheeks squishing under the pressure as you force a mint in. He lets you do it for some reason, looking lost as he gazes at you.

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh my, you're enjoying this. Pervert."

"Wha—what? You have to stop thinking you're hot shit, oh my god. I just got distracted for a bit."

"By me, right?"

"No! I just zoned ou—you're enjoying this."

You bite down your smile but a giggle escapes you anyway. Jaehyun rolls his eyes though he smiles, looking far too close to irresistible when his dimples show.

"You can't keep teasing me," he says, voice low.

"I've been doing it for two years. I'm pretty sure I can do it for at least two more."

Jaehyun scoffs, laughing at your statement. "You know what? I'm going to get back at you from now on. I've been so lenient."

You snort before pressing the back of your fingers to your nose. "You? You're going to get back at me? You’re good at lip service, Jaehyun."

“Huh. You might be right about that.”

There's a beat of silence and you look at him expectantly. In the next beat of your heart (or lack thereof), he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours, surprising the life out of you as your back hits the wall. It's not just a touch either, his mouth moves over yours and when your knees feel weak, you reluctantly admit that the rumour about Jung Yoonoh being a good kisser is true. Maybe his body count isn't a lower-end single digit after all.

He pulls apart with a short smile tugging at his lips. "Satisfied?"

You sputter out a response before clearing your throat. “I- I don’t think anyone really saw us in this corner.”

Jaehyun makes a low humming sound. “Or you could just say you want me to kiss you again? I know I’m a good kisser.”

“Fuck off.” You punch his chest, eliciting a quiet grunt from him.

You move away from him, peeking from behind the wall. Oh, she saw it alright. The giggling gives it away and the fact that a few more younger cousins have gathered. This is ridiculous. The fact that you wouldn’t mind more is even worse.

You turn back to Jaehyun with steel-set eyes. “No more kissing. Ever. Never again. Kissing is officially banned.”

Jaehyun looks perplexed. “I thought that was a good kiss. Did you not enjoy it? What do you mean no kissing?”

“And I take it back.” The heat on your face is still burning steadily.

“Oh, I see. You liked it so much that you’re embarrassed.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So I’m right?”

You roll your eyes and quickly walk down the stairs, a few words of complaint left hanging in the air as Jaehyun follows behind, stumbling over the steps.

Jaehyun likes how comfortable this is. He doesn’t mind glaring daggers at each other but this is fun too. It’s like he doesn’t have to be careful about the lines he might be crossing—there aren’t any damn lines at all. He can’t call it love, at least not by definition, but something is there. Something that is solid enough and heavy enough. Something he would be ready to hold on to.

You laugh at a joke Jaehyun’s dad makes. A family is the only place to feel at home. It might not be yours but maybe at the end of the night, you can convince them to disown Jaehyun and adopt you as their child instead. His cousins seem to be interested in the same things you were as a high schooler and it surprised you. Your job lets you advise the older cousins in a fairly friendly fashion. The little ones seem to like your dress and you find them far too adorable with their pink cheeks and dimples, much like Jaehyun’s. Speaking of which, he definitely got them from his dad. You look around and wonder how Jaehyun has so many female cousins and not an inkling about how women work.

It doesn’t hurt anymore that Dongmin discarded you so recklessly.

He’s wrong. Jaehyun’s wrong. It doesn’t hurt—didn’t hurt right now at the very least. When Jaehyun kissed you, you didn’t think of Dongmin or his girlfriend or anyone else. You thought that Jaehyun’s skin is somehow always the right temperature.

You shake your head. Jaehyun drives your getaway car and you shouldn’t get too comfortable in its worn-out leather seats. This shouldn’t be any different to you; you aren’t supposed to find love in every corner. This was all a survival instinct.

The more stories Jaehyun’s mother shares with you over dinner, the more you find it comfortable to be here. You don’t feel this welcome in your own apartment (although, there isn’t exactly anyone else living there but you and the goddamn pigeon that wakes you up at six in the morning). The more the night progresses, the more you want to believe in this lie. Jaehyun glances at you from time to time, his gaze neither uncomfortable nor harsh and you smile at him when he does. Right now, there is no loneliness and the air is warm and smells of freshly cooked food; the way familial love works is such a mystery. You feel content.

“Why are we doing this again?” you lean in and ask Jaehyun, eyes focused on the TV as he tries to fix it.

“Because I need to get out of work, and fulfilled soulmates get a day off on Valentine’s day.”

You nod. “Your apartment kind of stinks. I feel sorry for Sicheng.”

“This is clean,” he defends, pointing at the lack of any visible mess in his room. His work table, however, has too many items scattered over it to be called neat. There’s a fairly large TV attached to the wall and you’re a little jealous about it. You only ever watch shows on your (quite beloved albeit small) laptop. The blinds aren’t fully closed, the evening city lights trying their best to pry their pervasive fingers in and add something more to the peach hue of Jaehyun’s room.

The doorbell rings just in estimated time for food delivery, a sigh leaving your mouth along with a ‘finally’. His place is strangely comfortable and much less of the war zone that you expected. There’s no reason to feel awkward, really, or even the bubbling in your stomach. You’re not seventeen, in your crush’s house. Jaehyun isn’t even someone you like that way.

It’s just two friends hanging out and watching a movie and doing other friendly activities. Two friends hanging out on Valentine's day. Two friends who have kissed more than once.

What do lovers do anyway?

This thing with Jaehyun has turned into clandestine smiles at the office building, subtle texts of ‘did you eat?’ and ‘good morning, idiot’, racing hearts at brushing hands on the occasional off-work hangouts (you refuse to call them “dates”) and overall, a lot more pink hearts floating over his head when you see him. It’s positively appalling.

You don’t mind it one bit.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” The delivery man wishes as he leaves and you feel a sudden rage bubble up in you.

“Ah, does he think every couple celebrates Valentine’s day? And just because we’re in the same apartment means we’re a couple? Wow.” You cross your arms, scoffing. “Who’s he to wish me?”

“Why… Why are you getting mad?” Jaehyun asks quietly, slightly confused.

You glare at him, your anger not quite dissipated and walk back into his room, placing the box of confectionaries on the bedside table with a loud thud. Jaehyun follows, placing the drinks rather clumsily beside it. He gives you one last look of concern before settling down on his bed.

You let out another huff of complaint.

"Does everything have to be heart-shaped?"

You stare at the nauseating display of baked goods delivered in a pretty heart-shaped box. The brownie is in a clear plastic box that has a tiny bouquet of hearts atop it, the coffee cups have heart stickers around the rim, and the pastry itself is heart-shaped or rather, two halves of a heart. One of them is strawberry pink and the other chocolate brown.

“You seem… suddenly fired up,” Jaehyun comments quietly.

You don’t really care if you look crazy to him right now; he’s already seen the worse parts of you. You’re just so annoyed at all this red and pink that was delivered. Aren’t cafes supposed to stick with that beige-cream palette?

While you contemplate, Jaehyun tears the little sugar packet and attempts to open the lid of the cup at the same time, your blood pressure rising at the sight because you were half sure he’d spill the drink. After much difficulty, he shakes the packet trying to get just enough sugar but of course, like the clumsy oaf he is, he misses almost entirely, spilling sugar over his coffee table. It’s oddly endearing but that’s a thought you’ll keep to yourself.

He turns to you with a sheepish grin and you give him a look of distaste.

“You are a sorry excuse of a person, Jaehyun.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t mess this up.”

You turn to look him in the eyes, the honey shade alluring under warm apartment lights. They really are pretty.

“I, and every other sane human being, would not mess up adding sugar to a cup of coffee.”

“You faltered for a moment there.”

That was not the reason you faltered. You roll your eyes and look away, taking a sip of your drink and sighing at the taste.

“How do you even like Americanos? Don’t you like a bit of cream and sweetness?”

“I don’t really care for bitterness,” he answers.

“Wow, you must be a masochist.”

“And it’s quite obvious you’re a sadist.”

You snicker. “That makes us quite the pair.”

“I would like that sentence in a non-BDSM context, thank you.”

Jaehyun turns on the TV and the Netflix logo animation pops up. You raise an eyebrow at his ‘Continue Watching’ list, eyeing Bridegerton and Sweet Home, and wondering if he could be any more of an enigma. You can’t possibly figure him out at this point. You groan when he picks a title.

“Ugh. Do we have to watch a romantic comedy?”

“What? They’re funny. And I thought you liked those 2000’s movies.”

You believed in unicorns and sock goblins and love back then too. These days, you hate to see other people in love, especially when it’s fake. The movies you loved are now the movies you hate. The couples you eyed with delight at parks and cafes are now the bane of your existence. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that you enjoy the digital fireworks from a couple having a massive online breakup. Things falling apart are entertaining when it’s not happening to you.

You purse your lips. Can't you see other people happy without wanting to tear it down for yourself?

“Fine. But I’ll pick the 2000’s romcom.”

Jaehyun shrugs and hands over the remote. You see Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds on the poster and click on it immediately. The Proposal has a good enough comedy to romance ratio, in your opinion.

“I’m kind of surprised you came,” he says quietly.

“Why?” You raise an eyebrow. “Is it because of the suggestive nature of visiting someone’s apartment on Valentine’s day? Did you think we’d be doing something… more fun?”

You lean in and bat your eyelashes suggestively, although you’re clearly joking.

“I think you should know better than to get mouthy with me,” he answers as he leans in further, making your heartbeat hike at the proximity. Maybe he’s figured you out. Wouldn’t it be so nice to figure each other out at the same time—like puzzle pieces fitting together?

You move away from him. “Well, it’s not like I can go anywhere else. And I didn’t want to stay in my own apartment.”

“Maybe you enjoy my company?”

“Look, I would be sipping my coffee at a perfectly aesthetic cafe if it weren’t Valentine’s day.”

He raises an eyebrow at your nonsensical declaration and you sigh, trying to explain yourself.

“Cafes just terrorize the single folk on Valentine’s day. You should always go with Netflix,” you say.

“And chill?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“As I’ve told you so many times, I am not stupid.”

You inhale, an idea presenting itself.

“Hey, since we’re technically a couple, shouldn’t you be sharing your Netflix password with me?” you ask, pressing your lips into your cutest smile.

“No.”

“You’re so stingy,” you mutter. It was worth a shot.

Jaehyun laughs, your hand reaching out to poke his dimples but you stop yourself. You weren’t supposed to get this comfortable. This wasn’t your place to be. Lost in thought, the moving screen leaves you unfazed and you can’t look at him anymore. However, Jaehyun reaches out right then and wipes at the space beside your lips, your focus lifting from the beginning scenes of The Proposal and latching onto Jaehyun’s lips.

There’s a pause, your head clearing itself of thoughts when you make eye contact with him. Soft hair, doe eyes, full lips and dimples—he’s so damn attractive, it hurts your existence. Does he have to be this close to you? You have mixed feelings about that look in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers suddenly.

“Yes,” you answer.

If you look from a rational point of view, you should not have said that. You should have said anything but that. But you don’t want to think right now. Jaehyun’s touch is warm over your skin as his hand rests under your jaw and the other on your waist.

You should not have said that. But you feel loved.

Somewhere along, you find yourself parting only to kiss again, the feeling of skin so delightful in a way you’ve never experienced. Your shirt hikes up and you see Jaehyun eye the little heart with the arrow—the sign you so despised with a gentle smile.

“It’s pretty,” he whispers.

It’s pretty but it isn’t his. He doesn’t have to look at you like that—he’s come a long way from nervous glances and now he’s the one making you nervous. Just say it isn’t love and it will be alright.

You part, sobering up for a moment and you disentangle your limbs to sit at the side of his bed.

“What’s- What’s wrong?” Jaehyun whispers.

You exhale.

“All my life, I wait and when it comes, it’s all wrong,” you say, staring at your lap. Self-pity is the most disgusting kind of pity to feel. You’re past crying at things like this. You’re past crying for an ounce of romance, every time you listen to a love song on the radio or look at an Instagram post of a couple or pass by lovers on the sidewalk content with each other. You don’t even have cats to return home to. Modern loneliness is wearing you down but you can’t believe in fairytales anymore.

He scoffs, smiling bitterly. “I don’t even know if this is worth losing my dignity over.”

“Jaehyun—”

“We can’t pretend anymore—I can’t pretend anymore,” Jaehyun exhales. “I want you enough to forget the system. Give me an answer. Please.”

You don’t mind forgetting the system right now. Jaehyun’s lips are always the right temperature; the warmth of his body seeps through his shirt as you press yourself to him in a hug. He’s perfect and right now, you want to believe he’s perfect for you—even if he isn’t, you want to believe it into existence.

You cup Jaehyun’s cheeks, unsaid emotion in his doe eyes, and kiss him. This time, you mean it with every ounce of your being. There’s no more flustering each other, just the hot flush of intimacy when you feel skin that doesn’t burn you. It’s just the right feeling. There’s no way this can be wrong.

Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? You wish the voice would pipe down. It’s a coward, fearing fate just as everyone else does. But you are better than that, and this feeling is too enjoyable to let go. You don’t want this to fade.

Just then, Dongmin’s face comes to mind and you think that maybe if you kiss someone else with all you have, you don’t have to think of your shortcomings ever again.

Jaehyun pulls apart and you miss the warmth.

“You’re not… You’re not thinking of me, are you?” he asks.

You don’t answer, even if the silence is overwhelming.

“I’d rather not have you close your eyes and think of someone else when I’m in front of you.”

“I’m sorry” is all you can say.

“You can at least pretend to love me.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. “Could. It’s not like this was ever supposed to work out.”

You gulp, looking away. “Jaehyun, come on. That’s not like you. We were- we were just… having fun.”

He takes a deep breath. “It hurts to not be wanted by someone you want. You know that. So why are you doing this to me?”

Because misery likes company.

“I’m sorry.”

It seems the phrase you barely uttered when you were younger is tumbling out of your lips in a mixture of grief and pity. Perhaps it’s karma. Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps it’s just the consequences of your mistakes.

Jaehyun parts his lips, a sigh departing. He leans in again, pushing away all of his thoughts. A little more hurt won't kill him tonight. How and when did you bring him down to his knees?

However, he's stopped by your hands against his shoulders, his lips hovering over yours.

"Let's stop," you say. "You're right."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

“I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

You wish you could be brave enough to burn the instruction pamphlet from destiny. But right now, you need to get away from Jaehyun, away from any more misery business.

“I’ll get going,” you say, gathering your stuff.

Jaehyun hesitates but doesn’t stop you. He would never stop you, can’t stop so how could he even dream of stopping fate? This can never work out. It felt right in the moment but you don’t know anything more than that. You can’t close your eyes and pray everything disappears. No one else will solve your problems for you, you know that.

It’s time you start fixing the mess you made. You leave with a polite goodbye and hear a loud sigh behind you once the door is closed. Blinking away the urge to walk back in, you take long and quick strides to the elevator. You’re going to fix this.

Maybe if Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face’ wasn’t blasting at full volume at this stupid office party, you could be thinking a little straighter.

He was right. You can’t pretend anymore. There were thousands of ways this could have gone better. You didn’t have to pretend to be soulmates when you’re not. You could’ve discarded your belief in the whole system like Dongmin and Mijoo and dated someone out of spite. You didn’t have to drag Jaehyun into your sorry mess. You need to take out the nail you hammered into your own foot.

It’s the first time you’ve visited the rooftop restaurant from the company’s subsidiary chain of high-end restaurants but you imagined it would be bigger. It’s the news’ fault for making this place seem like a football field. However, you might be feeling that way because the distance between you and Jaehyun is suffocatingly small as is the distance with Dongmin. You don’t need to see Jaehyun tonight.

You don’t intend to make your confession a public affair and you certainly don’t believe in tack things like atonement. However, improvement begins with a step in the right direction. Maybe you’ll be a better person after this. Maybe you’ll still be as annoying and pushy as ever. You need to get it off your chest so you can proceed with the already tedious journey that comes with a soulmate rejection. You wonder why there’s so many man-made laws about soulmates when fate has made it complicated enough as it is. Love is the same as legalese when it comes to this system.

You flit about the crowds, smiling and greeting people and swerving away from Jaehyun every time he tries to approach you. You’re trying to make a good decision for once. He better not intrude. You’re wearing pink too, for the first time in a while: a satin shirt, pants and blazer set in dull pink.

“Dongmin,” you say, pulling him by the sleeve of his blue tux, and away from the rest of the HR team. “I have to show you something.”

“Hm? Show me?” He blinks at you.

You get him to follow you to the inside the premises, stopping when you’re far into a

“Uh?” Dongmin looks around before leaning in to whisper. “You’re not plotting to murder me, are you?”

You blink, and he laughs at you incredulously. “Why are you so serious?”

“I was lying,” you rush. “With Jaehyun. He’s not my soulmate. You are.”

Dongmin blinks in confusion. “Are… you joking? That was a weird joke but it could pass as funny—”

“Dongmin.”

You pull out your shirt from your pants, exposing the tattoo on your hip. It’s the little arrowed heart that has been plaguing you for years but now when you look at it, you feel no animosity. After all, it’s been through the same things you have.

Dongmin’s face falls into stunned silence, eyes fixated on your waist.

“That’s- That’s my—what is this?”

Russian roulette is certainly not the same without a gun.

“I lied, Dongmin,” you answer, fixing your shirt back in. “I was so afraid of your rejection that I made an even larger fool of myself.”

His initial shock seems to have partly subsided.

“You… Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks momentarily hurt.

“You have Mijoo, Dongmin. I can’t ruin something like that.”

A love that doesn’t need fate to fix it.

Dongmin glances away in guilt and sighs, though the sound is croaky. This must be more than what he can take.

“I’m sorry,” he says, haltingly. “I hurt you, didn’t I? When I thought I was being brave, I hurt you instead.”

You smile bitterly. “We all hurt someone, Dongmin. I still have to fix that one for myself.”

He scans your face, lips trembling slightly as unspoken words die on them.

“We’ll tend to the legal stuff later, hm? No compensation. We can file a mutual rejection.”

“But—”

“Shh. I’m happy enough as coworkers and I get paid more than enough for this job. Might get a promotion soon too.”

You wink at him with an added finger gun, trying to play it cool. Despite everything, a weight feels lifted from your shoulders. Now that you are truly alone, you might as well embrace this growing loneliness crawling under your skin. Discomfort could be something you can get used to.

When you get back to the warmly lit rooftop, the HR team looks at you curiously. You have the most self-destructive thought you’ve had in a while and tell yourself, you might as well if you've come this far. This is it. This is your social death. Honesty is the best policy, unfortunately.

“Dongmin and I have the same soulmate mark,” you announce. “We’re soulmates but we’ll sign a mutual rejection.”

Doyoung looks almost like he’ll faint and Soojin’s mouth is so wide open, you could practice throwing some mini basketballs in. This is your team—almost a second family, and it’s time you stop trying to hide yourself or disguise your feelings as something they’re not. They’ll get over it, as will you.

“J-Jaehyun?” Soojin looks to your side and you turn to find Jaehyun frowning.

“You could’ve discussed this with me,” he says, an odd sound of relief in his laugh.

It hurts to look at him but you muster up your strength.

“I’m sorry,” you say, facing him. “I didn’t want to drag you into this hell with me.”

Into this loveless hell made for you.

“(name).”

It’s so painfully quiet in this corner; there are so many eyes on you and only the hurt taking shape in Jaehyun’s eyes knock some sense into you.

“I’ll leave first,” you say, bowing as you take your leave.

You brisk up your pace and exit the venue as quickly as you can and into the building corridor.

Unfortunately for you, you recognize the pair of footsteps that follow you—both of them having their timings wrong. Boys don’t chase after the girl when she’s walking away. Boys should leave a girl alone when she feels like she’s about to cry.

You turn to face two men and groan internally. This is the worst possible situation—you’d rather crawl into a hole than look at either of them. The corporate light shines harshly on either of their faces but the look on them is so earnest, you want to close your eyes and scream. You don’t mind being alone. You were overstepping when you wished you weren’t.

“(name),” Dongmin starts. “I’m sorry it turned out this way. If you’d told me, we could have talked this out.”

A light scoff leaves Jaehyun and Dongmin purses his lips. It’s kind of funny watching both of their tall frames in hesitant postures and you cross your arms. You’re going to deal with this quickly like you always should have. If you’re dealing with fate, you need to have a clear head—and fortune doesn’t favour fools. Being with Jaehyun was nice but he is not yours. Dongmin may have been assigned to you but you’d rather not ruin someone’s relationship.

“What would we have talked about?” you ask. “Compensation charges? Apologies?”

You see a hint of positivity on Jaehyun’s face and turn to face him, frowning.

“And you. Don’t look so smug. You’re the reason I realized this crap. It hurts. Like hell.”

He opens his mouth but no words come when he’s far too taken aback. He can’t offer consolation now, not after everything. You knew this would happen. You would undoubtedly end up wishing you didn’t fall in love with him on the day you leave.

“(name). Listen to me,” Dongmin calls again, voice gentle.

Jaehyun sighs. “We’re both fucking this up, dude.”

Dongmin takes a sharp breath.

“You know, soulmates can be platonic,” he reasons, looking only at you. “People are made for each other differently and maybe you and I—”

“You’re just making her feel worse,” Jaehyun cuts him off.

“How do you know that?” Dongmin asks, finally turning to him. “Because you’ve spent a month or two with her? I’m her soulmate.”

“I think a month or two is much better than a stranger with the same damn birthmark.”

“Oh come on,” Dongmin scoffs. “The system exists for a reason.”

“I don’t give a shit about the system. The same as your girlfriend—oh, sorry, did you forget about her already?”

“It’s not like that.” Dongmin quietens. “We’ll figure something out.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. They’re worse than you are—honestly, you don’t know what you expected from the timid emotional maturity of men. Both of their polite facades have melted and you’re starting to miss their sweet-tempered work demeanour.

“Come with me,” Dongmin tells you.

He wraps his hand around your wrist and tugs, Jaehyun visibly tensing up at the gesture. He presses his tongue against his cheek in annoyance but refrains from doing anything rash. You feel sorry when you look at him.

“Dongmin,” you whisper. “Can we- can we have a moment?”

Dongmin nods in understanding and exits the hallway to cool off with a few splashes of water in the washroom.

“Would you go with him?” Jaehyun asks, jaw clenched. “An acquaintance as most? Are you willing to run into the arms of fate that you hated so much?”

He looks bitter and you can’t think of a sugar-coated response. You’ll just have to tell him how you feel.

“I need to sort things out, Jaehyun. This—”

You point from him to yourself.

“Couldn’t work out thanks to fate. Dongmin and I will never work out because he’s braver than I am. You know he’s doing all of that just so I don’t get hurt, right? He’s not suddenly in love with me.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, looking down to his feet. Is it so bad that he let jealousy get the best of his mouth? Envy isn’t so awful. He looks from your eyes to lips and wishes he were young enough to believe in fairytales.

“You don’t have to be brave,” he whispers. “You don’t have to be so brave to fall in love. You don’t have to be brave to stay with me.”

“We tried, Jaehyun. And we can’t cheat fate. That, at the very least, requires bravery.”

You press your lips into a thin line. It hurts. It hurts so bad to look at him and face the consequences of this flawed design. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that you have to follow the rules even after trying your best to break them.

“You wish you never met me, don’t you?” you whisper. “I made a mess.”

Before he responds, you bow in a short goodbye and walk towards the elevator. There’s no footsteps behind you, no Prince Charming. It’s just you and your high heels clacking against the cold marble as you head back to an empty home. You always thought freedom would feel different, that distance would give you perspective. It just feels awful when no one is around you at all. When you have no one to pick up morning calls from, receive texts from asking if you ate, spend time in peace without uttering a single word—are you free or are you lonely?

The rules state that the two of you are different. It is true. You are as different as love in real life and love in the movies; and neither of them have happy endings now.

You wish you drank some more last night if you were going to embarrass yourself like that. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you have two more days to figure out how to face your coworkers. You frown when you think of Jaehyun. Were you wrong to tell him that you simply couldn’t choose him? What if fate is right and it falls apart? You stir your morning coffee, the will to drink it fading slowly. It’s already fallen apart—and it wasn’t fate who did that, it was you. Should you have taken his stupidly warm hands and asked him to follow you? You don’t understand how it works at all.

Centuries of questioning what love is, poking and prodding at it like a lab sample, and there’s still no perfect answer. Love is blind. Love is cruel. Love is a fever. Love is temporary insanity. Love is acceptance. Love will set you free. There’s just too many variations. You can never tell if fate is meant to make it easier or worse.

No one questions you at the office and you're not sure if you’re glad or aggravated. Only Doyoung shoots you a pitiful look which you brush off and immediately get into work. Embarrassment is only real if you acknowledge it. However, every time Dongmin tries to talk to you, you ask for space and even alone in your thoughts, you don’t get it. They just have to drift to Jaehyun.

You wonder if what he said was true, that he wanted you enough to forget the system. It’s clearly ruined now. The spiral of thinking has you zoning out during work more often than not and even Doyoung ends up reprimanding you for your lack of focus. Sometimes you want to snap but other times, you’re just hopelessly reciting the events over and over in your head. This was supposed to happen, wasn’t it? You don’t even have the strength left in you to blame it all on Jaehyun.

You pace in the corridors after work, contemplating popping by the Marketing Department. What could go wrong? Sure, it was a little dramatic of you to leave like that but everything can be fixed, right? You groan. What you were supposed to be fixing, you made worse. Are your hands cursed or something? You shake your head, returning to your desk to gather your belongings and head home.

Unfortunately, the sight of Doyoung sitting in your chair alarms you and you stop a foot away.

“If you’re going to reprimand me for watching cat videos instead of checking the employee records, I can assure you my efficiency is still top-notch.”

“You’re—what? Never mind.” Doyoung shakes his head. “Can you give this ginseng pack to Jaehyun? I owe him.”

Oh no. You know where this is going.

“You know I’m going to keep that for myself, right?” You make a face. “I’d rather die than face Jaehyun right now.”

Doyoung shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one running to you. This is in case of an emergency.”

You give him a fake smile and Doyoung shakes his head. “Good to see you’re still great at pretending to be fine.”

You sigh. “Thanks for looking out for me, bossman.”

Doyoung blinks, hand covering his mouth when an audible gasp leaves him. “Woah. I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you thank me. But don’t call me bossman ever again.”

“Noted,” you say, taking your bag and leaving with a short goodbye. You’re lucky he lets you off work early, even if you never took it. Employees usually can’t leave until their superiors does and if you were a senior employee, you’d be giving your juniors quite the hell.

You seem to be good at concocting hellscapes. Perhaps, you should look for job openings in the underworld. One last thought of Jaehyun exits your head and you take the bus home, admiring the city you live in and the warmth of people and their relationships. You don’t feel jealous; you just bask in them for the time—be it a mother and her son or two bickering sisters or a lovely old couple. That’s how it’s meant to be, then. That’s how love works.

Jaehyun smacks his head against the sofa armrest for the fifteenth time in a row.

“Dude. You’re going to permanently ruin the fabric.” Sicheng says, eyes trained on his laptop screen.

“I should’ve said something more.” Jaehyun’s voice is so zombie-like, he thinks he should cast himself in the Train to Busan sequel as an extra.

“I’m glad I’m not you,” Sicheng mutters.

“Can you give me some sort of consolation, at least?”

“That’s not what I’m your friend for.”

Jaehyun sighs and resumes smacking the back of his head against the armrest. He really needs to figure this out. After all, he can’t really Google the solution to this.

“One thing doesn’t make sense,” Sicheng says, finally looking up from his screen. “Why do you have the same mark as (name)’s if you’re not soulmates?”

“You’re so incredibly—but adorably—stupid, Sicheng. She drew it in with a permanent marker. She kissed me too! It was sudden and weird but I didn’t mind it.

“Yikes.” Sicheng makes a face. “So… you didn’t take a shower for how long now?”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“The ink hasn’t washed off. I heard you singing in the shower yesterday, how could you not have washed that off? Ugh. Don’t tell me you miss her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he jumps up and rushes to the washroom. Looking into the mirror, the tattoo poking out from his T-shirt resembles yours a lot more than his. The arrow is still drawn in. Jaehyun’s shoulder slumps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Turning the tap and letting the water flow, he wets his hand and rubs at his collarbone to remove the arrow.

Except it doesn’t budge. His skin turns painfully red from the rubbing but the ink, which usually washes off in less than five minutes has no intention of leaving. Did you use a different brand of marker the last time? When was it anyway?

Jaehyun breathes out, firming his resolve. He needs to be with you.

Sicheng blinks in surprise as Jaehyun grabs his car keys, not even bothering to change from an all-black getup of a T-shirt and jeans like some emo teenager, and shuts the front door behind him. Not even a ‘goodbye, I’m leaving!’

Sicheng sighs. Love makes people crazy. He’s not falling into that trap when his soulmate literally doesn’t exist, the same as his soulmark. It seems the contestants in this game are full of exceptions.

You hit your head against your pillow. To visit Jaehyun or not to. You haven’t left your bed since you woke up around seven in the morning, and now it’s ten. Your bedsheets are a mess because you’ve rolled around too much on them (in despair, not with someone unfortunately).

You need the quiet sometimes to let your mind rest, to let your heart rest. You needed time. But maybe it’s been long enough and now you’re just searching for excuses to hold on to your last shred of dignity.

You lift your head up and glare at the box of ginseng on your table. Should you? You reluctantly get up, feeling a sting of pain in your back for lying in that awkward position for so long. Right when you’ve put on your slippers, the doorbell rings and you groan. How did the package you stress-ordered last night arrive so early? These deliveries are getting faster and faster.

You walk to the front door and open it thoughtlessly, freezing up at the sight. Your first reaction is to cover yourself. You’re not exactly your best-looking version at the moment. Jaehyun’s dark circles almost match yours but he’s better dressed than you are—in a black T-shirt and jeans while you’re wearing a Gudetama pajama set.

“We’re not just friends,” he blurts. “We’re not soulmates but we’re not just friends.”

“Huh? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing I’ve looked.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in a question look.

“That’s not important! Look—”

He pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. His hair is so disheveled and messy, he barely even looks like the same well-maintained marketing employee you know.

Jaehyun tugs at his T-shirt, pulling down to reveal his tattoo—albeit with your marker-drawn arrow through it. He does have a pretty well-built chest, you note before chiding yourself for getting distracted.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you, uh, need help scrubbing it off or something?”

“No.” Jaehyun lets out a huff of exasperation. “It won’t wash off. If it’s what I think it is—”

“Miracles don’t happen to people like us, Jaehyun,” you say quietly.

He gulps. “I don’t know about miracles but… I just needed an excuse to see you, I guess.”

You look up, a rose blush over Jaehyun’s bare face, and run your finger over the tattoo, sighing at the warmth of his skin. Your hand travels up to his cheek, resting atop it while you muster enough courage to look Jaehyun in his chocolate brown eyes.

You pull away. This isn’t the time. You still have an internal crisis to sort out. Are you even deserving of love? It makes much more sense if the answer is no.

However, Jaehyun pulls you in by the waist, his right palm warm against your cheek.

“I don’t care what anyone says.” He runs his thumb over your cheek in a painfully fond manner. “You’re worth more than the price I pay for this.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours swiftly, your head clearing of thoughts almost immediately. It feels so right, you can feel the spark, the red thread around your skin, hear the bells. This kiss was far more perfect than it was supposed to be.

You part, gasping. Jaehyun blinks at you, breathing heavily.

“Kiss me again.”

Jaehyun does as told and you might just believe in miracles this way. With his hand around your waist and in your hair, his lips over yours and the low rumbling laughter that parts the two of you—you might just believe in miracles. You might just believe that love isn't something you deserve by earning.

“I like this,” Jaehyun comments. “I like the way this is.”

You press your finger to his lips. “I think you should shut up and kiss me some more.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sexually repressed as of now, but that’s no reason to take advantage of me.”

You scowl, punching him on the shoulder and moving away from him.

“Come back,” he complains in a quiet voice.

“I am not going to do that.” You cross your arms.

“Come on,” he mutters, inching closer as you inch away, till your back hits the couch and you tumble backwards onto it, your legs on the headrest. Jaehyun laughs at your position, leaning in to keep his hands on either side of you, a doting look over him.

“Hey, did you know if I kicked my leg up, it would hit you in the balls?”

“Please don’t do that.”

You giggle, Jaehyun’s nose rubbing against yours in a bunny kiss.

“Is your place usually this much of a mess?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

You sigh heavily. “I was having a bad day, okay? Or… a bad weekend.”

“Do you even have food?”

You look away, crossing your arms. Jaehyun sighs and shakes his head.

“We should go grocery shopping. How do you live like this?”

You scoff. “Oh, spare me the lecture. I’ve heard enough horror stories about your room from Sicheng. You can’t hide from me by sweeping your clothes and belongings into his room.”

“Snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your mouth and you immediately cover it. Jaehyun smiles at you fondly and you look away, unable to bear that gaze of his.

“It really won’t wash off, by the way,” Jaehyun states, scratching at his collarbone.

You narrow your eyes, smacking his arms away to roll off the couch. Taking his wrist, you walk into your bathroom and turn the tap on. Something’s strange. But also strangely right.

“Look, I already tried—ow! Don’t rub that hard!”

You blink in confusion, trying again despite Jaehyun looking like his soul already left him. It doesn’t work. Your marker isn’t even that permanent. At least his regenerating skin cells should get rid of that arrow. Unless the ink was deep enough to pierce all the layers, as in a soulmark.

You gasp.

“You were right!”

“I told you s—”

"That's the point, isn't it?" you say, realization dawning as your eyes widen. "To see if people will question the system at all."

Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe.”

"Oh, all those unhappy marriages that could have been saved," you say as you exhale.

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. "I think that the point was, people can be happy without their soulmates. It's whoever you make one out of. Or I Googled too many articles on anti-soulmate propaganda."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. Watching his ears turn bright red is the cherry on top.

“Okay, fake-boyfriend-turned-real-soulmate.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Did you rethink your decision about sharing that Netflix password with me? I get the girlfriend free pass, right? Right?”

“I didn’t even share it with my mother.”

You whack his arm, him possibly used to it by now, judging from his lack of response.

“Idiot.” You cross your arms. “We can Netflix… and chill then. God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Jaehyun breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so pushy.”

“And you like being pushed around, nerd.”

“Who said that?”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, spinning you so that your back hits the door. He leans in to kiss you again and you smack your palm over his pouted lips. You laugh at his face, his eyes brimming with confusion.

“You’re in my apartment. I make the rules here. Think twice before you start a game with me, Mister.”

His shoulders droop. “Fine. Can you at least let me kiss you four times a day?”

“Five times, if you ask.”

He laughs before leaning in again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“You are one hell of a woman. Emphasis on hell.”

You laugh and grab his collar, pulling him in for the kiss that seals this deal.

You realize a few things in the moment: a) You don’t have to play roulette to find love, b) You don’t have to pick your poison to find love, and most importantly c) Love is right where you make something of it. Fate is still not in your good books but if it bends to you this way, you don’t mind at all. If Jaehyun kisses you like this every day, you don’t mind one bit.

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