Tumgik
#can tag it as whatever but i drew this keeping in mind that they definitely
beybuniki · 2 months
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origin - rising
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unioncolours · 8 months
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Jinchuuriki Temari pls pls PLSSSS 💜
And congrats on 60 subscribers wohooo!! 💕✨
Thank you, Mon, for your suggestion and ask ❤✨
This is part of my 60 subs challenge, feel free to check it out.
This is only PART ONE of Jinchuuriki Temari, and part two will come in connection to another ask 🥰 Part two is linked below.
Please keep reading if you fancy 🖤
BLOOD AND GOLD
part one | part two
Word count: 764 words
Tags: Jinchuuriki Temari. Blood and gore, I guess. Meet-cute, I guess?? VERY Canon Divergent. Canonverse.
It was supposed to be a cave just for shelter, but it turned out to be so much more. When Shikamaru together with Ino and Choji walked inside to hide from the harsh desert sun, they had immediately known something was off with the cave. It tingled of chakra and reeked of blood.
“We should turn back,” Ino said. “This chakra is – it’s not normal.”
The rattle of chains coming from the darkness startled them.
“Shit,” Choji whispered. “Something is in there.”
“Or someone,” Shikamaru finished. They pondered for a second whether to go back and not meddle in whatever scary business this cave had in store for them, but later decided that investigating would be worth it.
“This something is a someone,” Ino said when they walked deeper into the mouth of the dark.
They had never expected to find someone chained by rusty chuffs to the mountain wall of the other side. The wall was worked with metal, gold and sand, and the cuffs vibrated with chakra none of them had sensed before. It was a prison. A deserted prison.
The ’someone’ in question was a girl with sand blonde hair, arms cut and bruised, and a malicious snarl on her lips. She had to be a bit older than them, as her jaw was strong any and all resemblance of childhood had vanished from her face.
“Hello?” Ino whispered when they got closer. “What have they done to you?”
“Release me,” the girl demanded and stood up, not being able to keep a straight face out of pain when her joints in the shoulders straightened out from the uncomfortable position her arms were forced into. The chakra cuffs rattled and seemed to cut into her flesh even more. The trio winced at the sight of it. If not hunger and thirst kills her, an infection will.
“Why have someone chained you here?” Shikamaru asked.
“My father wants to kill me,” the girl spat and tossed her head back, revealing shining green eyes behind her dirty fringe. “Let me free for fucks’ sake.”
“Don’t move,” Shikamaru said when Ino took a step forward. “It can be a trap.” He grabbed a kunai and the girl laughed a raw and sarcastic laugh at the sight of it.
“I’d not do that if I were you,” she laughed.
“She is not an illusion at least, she is real,” Ino said. “But there’s something off with her chakra.”
“Best to stay away,” Choji mumbled.
“You are three against one, what could possibly happen?” the chained girl snorted as she leaned against the wall. The gold in it was off, Shikamaru thought. Why would there be gold melted into a wall meant to keep a prisoner? “Give me water at least. Postpone my death by a day, if you please.”
“What is your name?” Shikamaru asked. “You’re someone of value, aren’t you?”
“Ah, so my flesh has a price,” the girl laughed. “How comforting to hear. Go on, take an arm and sell it for good money.”
“Ha, ha,” Shikamaru said.
“It’s best not to agitate her,” Choji whispered.
“Agitate me, agitate me?” the girl snarled. “It takes a lot to agitate me.”
“What is your name?” Shikamaru asked again, now definitely more demanding. “Tell us, prisoner.” He walked closer to her, closer than he anticipated and closer than he would want to, but there was something about this prisoner which drew him in, unwillingly and cruelly.
“My name is…” The girl whipped her fringe out of her face once more. “My name is Temari of the Sand.”
Shikamaru was not standing right in front of her, kunai hard in his grip in case she did something suspicious. He could kill her right now if he wanted – that that he did, but the idea crossed his mind. In case she was dangerous, for she was not a civilian, nor a common shinobi. She was valued and kept prisoned away from the closest settlement. She was someone.
“Tell me, Temari of the Sand, why your father wants to kill you,” he asked.
Temari smiled, exposing razor sharp canine teeth.
“Shikamaru, step back,” Ino gasped and Choji swooped Shikamaru away from Temari with an expanded fist. Shikamaru grunted at first, annoyed, but all gasps got stuck in his throat when the earlier green eyes were no more.
What stared back at them were black eyes shining with gold in the middle of them.
“What is she?” Ino asked, rhetorically.
“What am I, what am I?” Temari smiled. “I am me. The jinchuuriki of the Sand, doomed to die.”
tbc one beautiful day ~
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Eddie Headcannon - Bringing Him To Meet Your Whacky (But Lovable) Metalhead Parents 🤘
Eddie Munson x (fem)Reader ✯
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✯ - You're nothing like your parents, but they still support you in whatever you like or want to pursue. They'll buy you whatever colorful atrocities you want to wear, or cover your room with. Grin and bear the bubbly music you play whenever they drive you around. They're just happy to see you happy, and you love them for it.
✯ - Unfortunately that also means putting on their best behavior whenever you bring some new preppy or jock guy around to meet them. You never push them to appear 'normal' around your friends or dates. You only ask them not to 'test his worth' by seeing how easily they can weird him out or scare him away. "If he plans on committing to you, this is what he'll have to look forward to anyway. We're just seeing if he can handle it." They'll say. And you understood. So after they sent the last jock running out to his car like the hounds of hell were at his heels, you took a break from dating.
✯ - Then you met Eddie. Introduced to him by Steve - an attempt at an old flame that turned out to be better as friends. Immediately there was something about Eddie that drew you in. His shaggy long hair, the many rings on his fingers, his loud and expressive mannerisms that matched his loud and familiar taste in music. Yes... he felt familiar. He felt like home. So much that you found yourself in his company as often as possible.
✯ - Eddie is lovable, but dense when it comes to picking up on someone's possible affection or attraction towards him. People often run in the opposite direction. Hell, it was weird enough getting used to his new-ish group of friends. A group that you've become a solid part of now. It didn't raise any questions in his mind when you began finding opportunities to be alone with him. Asking him to drive you places? Well, Steve's car is usually full of his unofficially adopted children. So of course he was the second best option. Offering to smoke weed with him at his trailer sometimes? Well, you were shit at rolling your own joints. Having him tag along with you while you run errands or literally do anything? Well, you're... a pretty girl. A very...fucking gorgeous girl in his opinion. So maybe you want him around to keep creeps to coming up to you. Scary dog privileges and all that.
✯ - One day you take Eddie out for milkshakes and lunch, and some brave asshole comes up and decides to flirt with you. Completely ignoring that Eddie is sitting across from you. Having none of it, you quickly turn him down. "Uh... can't you see I'm on a date?" And Eddie almost shoots milkshake out of his nostrils. After the reject leaves your table, Eddie is stuttering. Eyes wide. "A date? With me?? Haha, yeah that definitely scared him off." You squint your eyes at him, grasping onto your straw. "What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie stirs his straw around, looking anywhere but at you. "I mean, obviously you wouldn't really be on a date with me." That only makes you facepalm, dragging your hand down your face with a deep groan. "Did you really not think this was a date, Eddie??"
"Wha- Since WHEN? How was I supposed to know?!"
"I dunno, maybe the romantic mixtape I gave you on the way here? The handholding? We're literally sharing a milkshake!!"
"I thought we were sharing because I'm poor, not because we're on a DATE!"
✯ - That's how your relationship starts. ♡ Once it finally got through his head, he was all in. Finally noticing all the little things he skimmed over in the beginning. Like the way you hummed along to some of the music he played during a drive, even though you never really played that type of music yourself. Or the way you'd input some ideas whenever he was planning for a D&D campaign, even though you said you've never played before.
✯ - Then comes the moment you've been anxiously waiting for. Bringing him over to have dinner with your parents. Eddie was a nervous wreck. Seeing your style, and with his own terrible experiences with Hawkins parents, he thought this was it. Your parents would take one look at him, turn up their noses, and forbid you from being anywhere near him. Regardless of the fact that you were both legal adults and could do as you please. He didn't understand why you were so calm about this. Completely unbothered. Actually, you were excited. Almost bouncing in the passenger's seat of his van. As he pulled up outside your house, you took his hand in yours and looked him in the eyes. "Eddie, honey, trust me. My parents are gonna take one look at you, and understand exactly what drew me to you." You place soft kisses on his rings and knuckles. "Then, they're gonna get to know you. And they're gonna love you. Just like I do." He had to fight back tears, hearing you say those words for the first time. Last thing he needed was to meet your parents with bloodshot eyes and have them think he showed up stoned. "I love you too."
✯ - Your dad is the first one to see Eddie, since he happened to be walking towards the kitchen when you both entered the house. Eddie was prepared to put on his 'good boy voice' and shake your dad's hand. Yeah, nope. Before Eddie could speak your dad turns tail and runs up the stairs yelling for your mom. "Honey!! HONEY!!! Holy fucking shit, you gotta come see this guy! NOW!!" You're caught somewhere between soft embarrassment, and stifling a chuckle once you see Eddie's dumbstruck expression. Was he seeing things... or was your dad wearing a Judas Priest shirt?? Sure enough, once both your parents were downstairs, the realization hit him. Your dad's shirt. Your mom's black painted nailed. The visible tattoos on both of them. His lips curled up into the biggest smile you've ever seen. Oh yeah. He's got this in the bag.
✯ - Obviously none of their usual attempts to scare your dates away would work on Eddie. They didn't even try. Instead, they pretty much stole him away. Asking questions about how you both met and how long you've been seeing each other. Comparing tattoos (the one's in innocent places at least) and music tastes. Deciding to really solidify their love for him, you mentioned something about his D&D campaigns. Your mom was floored, running to get her box full of dice and all her other D&D stuff. By the end of the night he was being invited over AGAIN by your parents, and pulled into two tight hugs.
✯ ‐ When you and Eddie get into your first big argument and go through a short break up, the whole house is in mourning. Your parent's priority is comforting you, always. But you knew they missed him too. Thankfully the issue is resolved and your relationship is stronger than ever. So much that Eddie starts spending the night at your place on weekends.
✯ ‐ One night, after Eddie plays some D&D with your parents (for once he doesn't have to be the DM), you all have dinner together. Nothing new until it's time for Eddie to leave and he gives you his keys. He says he has to pee real quick and asks you to warm up the van for him. You're skeptical about it, but you listen. Twenty minutes later, he comes out to the van. Giddy and walking with an extra pep in his step. "What took you so long?" You asked. He waves it off and makes an excuse, taking his place in the driver's seat.
✯ - A month later, your parents invite you along with them to see some band play at The Hideout. The didn't mention the band's name, but they said it was special performance. You agree, since they sat through that Tears For Fears concert with you. When you get there, you weren't expecting to get seats right in front of the 'stage'. The way your parents hyped it up, you thought the place would be packed. Instead it was a scattered crowd of....eerily familiar faces... wait- is that Steve? The more you looked around, the more you noticed your friends faces around the place. Steve, Robin, Nancy, Johnathan, even Argyle. What the hell is going on?
✯ - Just as you're about to question one of them, you hear footsteps climbing up to the stage. It's Eddie, with the members of Corroded Coffin. He plays a song, something original that he wrote just for the occasion. A romantic song that ends with him hopping off the and getting down on one knee right in front of you. "Will you marry me?" He asks, holding out a ring you've admired before. It was your mother's ring, before your dad bought her a new one for their anniversary. Your parents gave it to him when he asked for their blessing.
✯ - You say yes ♡ crying when he slides the ring onto your finger. It fits perfectly. Just like Eddie fits into your family. You're soon-to-be husband. ♡
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A/N: I wrote this in a hurry, so excuse whatever mistakes I missed lolz. This ended up being a lot longer than I expected 😅
Masterlist , Ao3 ☆
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furvillaconfessions · 10 months
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Hi! This is the real Jayce, aka Pastel aka Bestest_Fox (attached proof of log-ins)
ID Verification: imgur.com/a/htd3n6b
First off, Yoshi, I HAVE to ask that the post about Lance and I gets deleted as soon as possible, this is EXTREMELY horrible to have on here about someone. Tagging it with "no definitive proof" is just a clear sign that you should NOT have posted this. The amount of shit lance has gotten from this blog is insane to me.
May I add from your own rules Yoshi:
 "4. Egregious claims must come with proof
the burden is on you— screencaps, archives, etc., whatever you have— so make it count. Otherwise, it’s deleted and that’ll be that."
Secondly, I have not been groomed. I do not shy away from talking about this, I would've preferred that OP just DMed me personally or something so I could explain and not have this public... This is something I've dealt ever since becoming friends with him. Lance is a very close friend of mine that has looked out for me for years now at this point. I don't owe the whole internet my entire life story, this is all very traumatic for me as is just because it brings back a lot of trauma from around a year ago when I tried to leave my unsupportive, transphobic, abusive parents and I had all of my property taken away from me (car, wallet, phone, computer, keys, etc.) and was basically trapped in my bedroom with nothing for a month. The only thing that helped me was being able to escape the house one night and walking to the corner of a street, waiting for my friend to pick me up. Just so I could leave and get on a plane to Lance and finally be in a supportive environment. I do not only live with Lance I also live on the same property as his father, step-mother, and brother. I have been thriving here, able to actually be myself and be happy, this past year has been the happiest I have been in ages and it's all thanks to Lance and his family. I don't know what other proof I can show you or give you to show you that Lance isn't a groomer/pedophile, its an outrageous claim to me to just toss out there. Adults are allowed to be *friends* with minors, ONLY FRIENDS.
...I was going to put something here but It ended up being way to personal and I really don't want to share that part of my life with anyone yet.. Just know I've dealt with a real groomer before when I was a lot younger. (11)
Lastly, I feel like I don't even need to explain this part but here we go... As for the FA and my art. As you have learned, I am 19. If you dug into my FA more you would realize that not only have I done paw art for Lance I've drawn actual NSFW for quite a few people. If anyone on FV wanted to go out of their way and dm me offsite asking for art of this sort, in my mind that is perfectly appropriate. I am an artist who accepts NSFW commission and I am not a minor, this is perfectly legal and in my mind its alright as long as I keep it in spaces meant for it. (aka FA) I'm sure you guys have seen your fair share of minors drawing NSFW... I have never draw NSFW as a minor, I always drew the line at that.
All this does is possibly ruin our lives and spread rumors that are actually damaging. This is something people get arrested for and is not something to be taken lightly. If you have any more concerns or anything like that DM me on discord or FV, I am a real person who is separate from Lance who has my own life, thoughts, and opinions. I don't know what else I can tell you all.
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fluffytriceratops · 2 years
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Random facts about Monet. <3
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Couldn’t help myself, I drew an older Monet. I love this bab so much. She deserves the world. Raph is definitely a proud papa. And Kristina feels lucky to have raised such a strong young woman. 😊❤️
I’ll be doing Nefertiri next, so stay tuned for that! ^~^
I drew this quite a while ago, I just never had the time/chance to post it. But since my job is done with, hopefully I’ll have more time to come online. See my pinned post for more details hehe. There’s quite a bit that went down the past couple weeks. I’m on vacation rn, so I won’t have a ton of time, but I’ll come on when I can! Expect to see a lot of spam from me because my notifications are overflowing— I’m talking way over 500 lol. So if I accidentally missed something you tagged me in, I apologize profusely. 😫 (also I am in no way trying to brag or anything about how many notifications I have, if it felt or seemed like that I’m sorry that’s not my intention I’m just trying to explain why I might miss something someone wanted me to see— 😅)
Tags: @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @digitl-art-monstr @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @post-apocalyptic-daydream @mysticboombox @drowninghell @squirrelfurs @lec743 @raphslovemuffin80 @bibiz82
(If you want to be tagged in my future TMNT/Raph&Kris related posts, feel free to let me know and I’ll happily add you!)
Have a wonderful day/night! Sending all the virtual hugs to you!! <333
- She was named after Claude Monet, a famous French painter.
- She is super strong, like really freaking strong. (Mystic power strong?) She can take a hit and she can deliver one too. When sparring with her sister (Nefertiri) she has to continuously remind herself to take it easy and not use her strength to its fullest. Otherwise she could accidentally really hurt her. This probably goes for other family members as well, especially those that are human and can’t really handle the brunt of her attacks when she is using 100% of her strength.
- Monet loves her strength but sometimes she’s scared she’ll accidentally hurt someone. (Something that’s happened on a few occasions, especially when she’s upset/angry or overly excited, she tends to forget how strong she really is) so she usually dials her strength down a lot if she can remember to. One of her biggest fears is to accidentally go too far and really hurt someone she cares for.
- Definitely a secret softy. Very few people in her inner circle have seen this side of her. It’s not something she’s comfortable with sharing. However, a lot of her family and friends knows she’s like this. She just heavily denies it. (Classic Raphael move hehe)
- She has anger issues and they only get worse the older she gets. She can be very violent and sometimes needs a reminder to take a step back and breathe. This is usually given to her by one of her family members.
- She is not afraid to put anyone in their place. She will speak her mind, no matter the consequences. Her bark is just as big as her bite. Monet is brutally honest and has a hard time keeping her mouth shut. She will snark the shit out of someone and loves a good banter. She loves to poke fun and tease people and doesn’t mind it if they do so in return.
- Please challenge her to an arm wrestling battle or spar with her. She loves it and will forever be your friend.
- Hates bitter and overly spicy or sour foods. She has an enormous sweet tooth. Loves baked goods, chocolates and candies. (All except the sour ones) Also prefers cold foods/drinks over hot ones. For example, iced coffee over hot coffee. Or milk/boba teas over regular hot tea.
- A good way to get on her good side is by bringing/making her something sweet. Whether you bake her some cookies or buy her a boba tea. Whatever. She might not show it right away, but she would be very grateful and happy about it.
- Loves to pull jokes and prank people, especially with her cousin Noa ( @rheawritesforfun ‘s OC).
- Monet is obsessed with horror/gore. She loves the genre, they’re always her favourite movies/books/video games. Halloween is her favourite Holliday. She goes all out for it. Candy and horror? That’s her shit! And it’s one of the only times she gets to be out on the surface. Which is awesome.
- Second favourite Holliday is April fools/Loki day. Everyone dreads the first of April because they know it’s about to go down. She prepares months in advance and anyone and everyone she knows will be suffering from her pranks. No matter who you are or how old you may be. No one if safe on that day. She goes all out.
- Bares her teeth at people often. Monet has sharp canines like her father, and sometimes they poke out of her mouth. But when she’s angry or in a bad mood, she will bare her teeth threateningly at people. Especially when she’s fighting.
- Queen of resting bitch face. Even when she’s in a good mood she’ll look the opposite.
- Often tells people to go fuck off or to go fuck themselves. Her mum hates her potty mouth, but Monet loves to curse/swear. She likes to come up with weird or creative comebacks too.
- Just like her mother, she is not the best singer. She’s definitely better than Kristina is, maybe even average? But she wouldn’t consider herself as someone with a good/great singing voice.
- Shows her affection with actions rather than words. Doesn’t hug often, but she will give head pats (or ruffle someone’s hair) as signs of her love and adoration. Same thing goes for fist bumps and secret hand shakes n stuff. If she is more physical with someone, they better not mention it because she’ll most likely immediately pull away and brush them off out of embarrassment. If someone continuously teases her about it, she’d snap angrily and storm off.
- Monet will get into a physical fight with someone. She tends to lash out and sometimes it can get quite aggressive. She gets better at storming off and walking away the older she gets, but it’s definitely very hard for her to do so. Her anger isn’t a party trick. It’s serious. And it’s something she battles with every day.
- She also tends to rant/vent A LOT to those she’s closest to. (Noa is definitely one of em lol) she doesn’t like to express her feelings openly to most people but she will to a select few. And those select few better be prepared for an ear full.
- HATES being bossed around and controlled. Especially if it’s involving someone she doesn’t like, or if she’s forced to do something she doesn’t want to. If it’s an order, she will do it. She’ll just bitch about it while doing so.
- Door slams are very common with Monet. And because of her strength, she has broken waaay more than anyone would care to admit. There’s a jar labeled “Monet’s doors” filled with cash from Monet because she usually has to pay for a new one. Or at least, help pay for one. It’s like a swear jar but with doors. They’ve given up on her swearing long ago hehe.
- Monet can be described as being erratic emotionally. She is daring, brave, and free spirited but she can also be quite sardonic and sarcastic. And of course, a classic rebel. She is very athletically adept, and can be quite friendly/kind to her family and friends. However, Monet is also very willful, stubborn, incredibly rude and aggressive. She is also the most relentless out of her siblings. It is her relentless ferocity that makes her such a deadly fighter.
- Monet loves to fight, wrestle, and trash the place. If there’s a brawl, she would love to join in the fight. Because of her passion for fighting, she would fight first and reflect and ask questions later.
- She can also be very cocky and competitive. When she wins games and duels against her friends and family, she will rub it in their faces, much to their dismay.
- Monet can be unpredictable, and her ferocious temper can sometimes frighten enemies even her friends/family. She can be very aggressive when trying to solve problems, even with her family and allies. Sometimes during training, Monet can get hostile, and she would do anything she can to beat her family in sparring matches. When she feels misunderstood or irritated (which unfortunately happens a lot), she tends to storm out and go topside or roam the sewers on her own. Despite the fact that her parents don’t like this considering it can be very dangerous.
- Despite all of this, she is the most loyal friend anyone could ask for. She will do anything, literally just about anything to protect those she cares for. Even if she might not ever admit it, in order to stay “badass” and “hardcore” and to protect her pride. She will do everything in her power to protect her friends and family.
- Basically she’s Raphael 2.0 (more so the other iterations, but still—).
- Because of her anger, and rebellious nature I do not believe she would be chosen to be the next leader. Whoever would be picked, she’d feel a bit resentful towards. They’d definitely have a bit of a rocky relationship. Especially if it’s a certain someone (cough cough Milo cough). (Another of @rheawritesforfun ‘s ocs). Due to their relationship already being a bit rocky lol. It’d definitely be a classic Leo vs Raph thing. And she’d probably be like “of course you’d get the role, you’re the former leaders son. I call favouritism.” Or something like that lmao. She’d defy his orders a lot, that’s for sure. Honestly, she’d defy anyones orders. Except maaaybe Noa. Cuz they’re as thick as thieves.
- Her weapon of choice would be the tetsubo. And she’d also always carry brass knuckles with her wherever she goes. Specially made to fit her hands by her wonderful uncle Donnie. She’d probably have a whole collection of them in her room somewhere. All of which she got as gifts, most likely all made by Dee. Unless she somehow got her hands on some regular human ones, then they’d only be there for decoration. Since she can’t wield them for obvious reasons. Along with the other classic side weapons the ninja carry (I.e. throwing knives, smoke bombs, grappling hook, etc.)
- Has two male pet rats named Zeus and Poseidon. They are her babies and she will die for them. And they were a gift she received from her Granpapi Splinter, and yes it was an ironic gift and she loved it for that.
- Like her ma, she also thinks Greek and Egyptian mythology is super cool. It’s one of the few things she’ll totally geek over. Another good way to get on her good side, get her to talk about it or get her a gift involving it. Even if it’s simply watching a movie with her. She’ll adore it.
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wincore · 4 years
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romeo roulette | jung yoonoh
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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
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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. 
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.  
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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. 
2K notes · View notes
adonis-koo · 3 years
Text
Star Struck
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| 1 |
↳ Summary: You’re a creature of habit, you plan everything from each hour to each day, so you can imagine the chaos which ensues after you discover a random guy leaking black goo in a ditch- who just so happens to be an alien.
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader
↳ Genre: lowkey strangers to lovers, alien!jungkook, fluff, smut,
Word Count: 12k
Tags: before anyone asks, yes tentacles are involved because I’m a proud monster fucker, jungkook has separation anxiety from Mc :(, he’s immediately whipped, and he can’t speak any human language at first oops, he like,,,tries it for a second before MC goes 🏃‍♀️ this is unedited and for that im sorry bc yikes
___ | Next
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In many cases, you could recall how you got into situations. For instance, when you were late to your mid morning lecture, you had zero excuses- not that the professor cared at all when you walked in with a bag of mcdonalds and a venti latte from starbucks. But the principle of the situation remained the same, you knew your actions would cause you to be late. You understood the consequences of your actions. 
The same could not be said for when you took in the curious male who didn’t understand a word you said.
“What do you mean you just- picked him up off the side of a fucking ditch!” Jimin flailed his hands as you twisted around to face you, the male was examining his hands as if he had never seen them before, not paying either of you any mind. 
You held up your hands as you replied, “I did!” You shouted back, immediately gaining the males attention as his eyes flashed between you and Jimin, “He was just…! Laying there! I don’t fucking know! What was I supposed to do? Leave him, look he’s hurt.” You pointed out the obvious wounds he sported. 
“...He’s bleeding black goo Y/n! Have you never seen a horror movie before oh my god!” Jimin grabbed his head as his voice became dramatic and peril, “You’re practically number one on his kill list! He’s probably here to abduct us and- and butt probe us or some shit!” 
You raised your brows defensively as you crossed your arms, “Look at him!” You pointed a finger at the male making him flinch a little, leaning a little away from you where he sat as his expression shifted, looking as if he was a kicked puppy at your tone, “Does that look like a butt probing alien to you shit face?” 
“Maybe!” Jimin snapped back, “He ain’t human that’s for fucking sure! Just…!” Jimin flailed his hands, “Just look at him!” 
You groaned as you rubbed your face, you knew it looked bad! You hadn’t meant to stumble across a body when you went out for your morning walk which you had been trying to do in an effort to be more mindful and healthy, but it seemed to only lead you to stressing the fuck out. 
You turned to look at the male, he looked anything but alien, well- for the most part. His eyes looked up at you almost glossy like, they were big and doe like, his lips plush and his hair dusted his eyes yet almost looked like a raven blue. 
He looked human, mostly. The part that threw you off was, for one the black goo that trickled down his skin- maybe if you were a photography major you’d scream how aesthetic it was and just take a picture before leaving him to die, but unfortunately this wasn’t the case and here you were. 
The other part of him was, well....the bits that glowed. You would’ve honestly mistook him for a horrible Avatar cosplayer that had a little too much last night had it not been for the black goo, the strip of glow emitted from his body all the way from his hands up his arms, and you assumed back to his shoulders as well. 
Most might have considered it tattoo’s and maybe you could pass it off as such if it weren’t for the constant soft hue purple, it shifted between blue occasionally but remained purple for most of the duration you had spent with him. 
“What the hell are you even gonna tell Seokjin!” Jimin grabbed his head as he began to pace, “He totally won’t let this- this thing stay with us!” 
You glared as you stomped over to the male who straightened a little, the marks on his skin suddenly tinging red as you turned to face Jimin, “Seokjin can shut the fuck up! And so can you! For all we know he’s just into special effects and can’t speak English you xenophobic fuck!” 
“I’m Korean you whore!” Jimin dramatically shouted as he walked across the apartment, for what reason? You weren’t sure other than to make a point and raise his voice, “I know Asian when I see it and that’s not it! I’m headed for class and when I get back he better be back in his fucking UFO.” 
You rolled your eyes as you kneeled down to look at the male, the marks had flared back to it’s constant state of purple once more as he blinked, “I’m sorry about him,” You apologized sheepishly, “He ah...he’s an asshole,” The male only tilted his head a little, “I’m...Y/n.” You felt a bit dumb talking to him. 
You didn’t want to assume he couldn’t understand you but...well...He just seemed so, curious, innocent even. His eyes peered around at his surroundings as if he had never seen them before. Not as if he hadn’t been in your home but, as if he had never sat on a bed, his body would bounce a little as if testing the springs only to find out they’d bounce and his eyes would light up. 
He had been playing with the light switch on the wall of the apartment when you first got home, he didn’t seem to understand you necessarily but he responded well to the tone of voice because when you told him to stop he seemed to understand. 
He had tried to speak a few times, but...Well, Jimin may have had a point, it didn’t sound like any Asian dialect, at all. It didn’t even sound like any language you had even heard of...Even if he looked like some sort of Asian ethnicity, which you supposed was the strangest part about this. He looked human, but he didn’t sound human. 
He spoke in a sort of throaty tongue that seemed frantic at first, but he must have quickly realized you couldn’t understand him and had opted to mute ever since, “What’s your name?” You asked, only to sigh in response as he blinked unsuspecting of whatever you had said. 
Sitting down in front of him you sighed, “Okay nevermind, we’ll figure out a name to give you meanwhile- hmmm, let’s get those fixed up yeah?” You stood up, noticing he wasn’t doing the same, leaning down you went to grab his hand. 
The marks on his arms suddenly lit in a deep maroon red as he jumped back making you screech- whatever thought of you assuming he was human went out the window at the sudden burst of...of....tentacles pushing out of his back and pulling in front of him like some sort of shield. 
“Woah! Woah holy shit, oh my god!” You flailed at the sight of his narrowed eyes and his defensive stance as you held out your hands in sign of peace, “I’m not going to hurt you! I- I just want to fix your wounds okay!” You fumbled out the words, “I’m your friend, yeah?” 
His eyes squinted a little further as he glanced between your hands and your hand, tentacles like you had seen- no you weren’t gonna go there- they looked almost- No. You weren’t gonna say it, you weren’t even gonna think it. They were almost glass like, but looked as soft as silk, probably deadly and something you shouldn’t touch. 
They restricted a little and much to your surprise he parted his lips as he slowly spoke, “...Friend…” As if testing the word on his lips. You raised your brows in surprise, if this man was an alien then...he was a really quick learner. 
You nodded rapidly as you spoke,” Yes! Yes! I’m a friend! Friend’s don’t hurt each other. Just...let me…” You slowly approached him, trying not to watch the four tentacles that emerged from his back keep your attention away from his face, the markings on his arms glowed a dimmer red, as if his initial reaction calmed down, slowly it melted back into a soft purple hue as his eyes carefully watched you grab his hand as you repeated, “Friend.” You gave it a little squeeze, his brows furrowing as he looked at his much larger hand encasing yours, to your face before back to your hand which held his. 
“Friend.” He echoed back tilting his head a little before his eyes suddenly lit up in understanding, nodding frantically he replied, “Friend!” His expression of anger was like the night to the day of his smile, which was bright and almost childlike, as if he suddenly realized what the term friend meant, “Friend!” He squeezed your hand back causing you to squeak at the immense strength he had, the symbol that curved on his hand suddenly shifted to a dark grey as his eyes quickly became worried.
“Friend?” His voice gentler this time as he stood up, practically towering over you as he peered down as if you were a little puppy, concerned he had hurt you. 
“I’m okay!” You nodded, feeling your voice a pitch higher and your face felt hot despite knowing full and damn well you were not going to fuck this alien, yet you had definitely watched too much hentai in your life to at least not let the thought cross your mind once. He was good looking, by human definition anyways, “Lets um...let’s just get you into the living room.” 
Curiously he followed you before you had him sit on the couch, he gave a little bounce to the cushion as his brows furrowed before his lower lip jutted into a pout- obviously realizing this surface wasn’t bouncy….How could an alien be in your house, who nearly killed you with the tentacles from his back….look like this...
You briefly wondered this question as you frowned, grabbing the first aid kit before sitting back down beside him, his marks suddenly glowing purple as his eyes curiously watched you pull out a rubbing alcohol wipe, you paused as you looked at his big doe eyes that looked at you so innocently...If he reacted violently to his hand being held you knew damn well this was going to be a bitch to convince him you weren’t trying to kill him…
“Look…” Your voice drew his eyes to yours as he focused on your words, “This is gonna...hurt...a lot okay…?” You offered a semi awkward half smile, gesturing to your own bicep where it was bleeding on him before gesturing to him, “Pain…” You nodded a little, making him nod, his eyes darting to his own before back to you but you could tell by the look in his eyes he had no idea what you meant.
“Pain.” You pinched his skin making him jolt, his eyes darting between your small fingers and you as he frowned, marks mixing with purple and red, “Pain…?” He mumbled, rubbing a hand on his head, suddenly he began speaking in his tongue, his voice deeper and throater then when he repeated anything in english. 
Maybe talking to himself, he wasn’t looking at you as he sighed, “Pain.” He spoke more firmly as he looked at you, seemingly a little lost, you held up the wipe as you gave a defeated smile, “Pain.” You nodded, knowing he would definitely understand what the word meant once you got this over with. 
To say he reacted violently, was a very poor understatement. 
His marks were lit up a bright red and his tentacles had emerged from his back once and he practically flew to the other end of the couch in defense as he howled in pain as he examined the large wound on his bicep, “Friend!” He cried out in anger, eyes glaring at you and tentacles covering his body as if he was a wounded animal. 
He had ended up destroying a few knick knacks around the house, a chair and a few photo frames while you attempted to chase after him in effort to clean his wound while he ran away like a puppy avoiding a bath. Obviously he knew you weren’t dangerous enough to try and hurt but...it seemed his pain tolerance was...extremely low. 
Eventually you had gotten him to behave and sit down, as he glared at the floor, marks glowing yellow as you felt him wince and jolt with every dab of the wipe, “Friend.” he mumbled with gritted teeth before he spoke in his native tongue, something you assumed was probably not so nice at you. 
“The feeling is mutual pal.” You muttered, not knowing what he said but knowing, deep in your heart, your feelings were most definitely the same to one another. He did little to resist your touch afterwards, eyes furrowing as he watched you carefully bandage his wound, occasionally he’d poke- not at the wound but the bandage, his fingers would pinch the material and he’d cock his head as if examining it. 
“Have…” You frowned a little as you tilted your head, gaining his attention, “Have you never been to Earth?” You were going to be extremely upset if you woke up in twelve hours and Jimin told you that you were on an extreme LSD trip and you just imagined a really hot alien in your head. 
His eyes lit up in the same way they had earlier, “Earth?” He raised his brows, lips parting before he suddenly looked around again, “Earth!?” He suddenly cried out as he stood up, looking around before going to the window and peaking out of the blinds, “Earth…” He suddenly spoke in his native tongue once more as he ran a hand through his hair before turning to face you, “....Human…?” He had said something else you couldn’t understand besides the singular word. 
“Yes…?” You nodded making him almost whine as he grabbed his head, as if in disappointment, you offered a weak smile. You supposed if you were an alien that had seen galaxies beyond imagination you’d be pretty disappointed at seeing Earth too. 
He sighed as he frowned, looking around the apartment before straightening back up as he looked at you, pointing to himself as he spoke, “JK.” 
You blinked a few times, unresponsive as you frowned, “What…?” Your face scrunched as he bounced a little, repeating the two letters once more as he pointed to himself somewhat harsher, your brows raising before your lips parted, “Oh…! You’re JK! That’s your name?” You gave a smile as you nodded.
His smile was like a child as his fists curled up as he nodded rapidly, not understanding a word you said but it looked as if you understood, “Y/n.” You slowly prounicated your name as you pointed at yourself. 
JK had attempted to say your name, multiple times actually, but his brows pinched in frustration, having a hard time with it, but oddly enough it was quite endearing to watch him repeatedly try and say your name, even after you have found yourself on your phone, typing in the nearest place to eat while trying to figure out how to break it to Seokjin that an alien would be boarding with you guys for awhile.
What else were you supposed to do…? Call the police? You looked at JK with a frown, he seemed oddly innocent and you’d feel guilty doing that to him, his brows pinched as he fumbled over your name once again as he puffed a breath in frustration, the marks on his arms glowing a deep hue of light orange. 
“JK.” His gaze snapped to yours as he tilted his head, you offered a dull smile as you spoke carefully, “Eat?” You pointed to your mouth before stomach, JK rubbed his head briefly mirroring you as he rubbed his stomach a little confused. You hummed as you searched around before finding a leftover candybar on the coffee table, “Eat.” You pointed at it before taking a bite. 
“Eat.” JK had an easy time saying that word with a nod before he suddenly seemed excited, bouncing his spot as he nodded wildly, “Eat! Y/n…!” His nose suddenly scrunched at messing up your name again. 
His attention was brought back to you at the sound of you giggling at how cute he really was for someone that nearly killed you twice within the last hour, “Yeah, it’s almost dinner time, we should get something to eat, I’m starved and Seokjin banned me from the kitchen.” You gestured to him to follow you as he cocked his head, not understanding a word you were saying. 
You pulled one of Seokjin’s hoodies from his laundry basket as he handed it to JK who frowned, looking at his own clothes before back at you, as if silently asking why he needed to change. No nevermind the fact he glowed like a fucking lava lamp, “Hide.” You pointed at his arms as he frowned, looking down at them. 
“Hide!” You emphasized as you pointed towards your own arm then to his before it suddenly clicked as he nodded, sighing as he spoke in his own tongue the throat sound of something like mild disappointment and you could understand, but it was necessary. 
JK all of a sudden pulled the shirt over his head nearly making you scream, the sight of compact muscles and tan skin that almost had an iridescent sheen glowed, your body suddenly feeling extremely warm as JK fumbled a little confused. 
He frowned as he tilted his head, why were you covering your eyes? He looked down at himself before back at you, was....was he not supposed to change right here? He pulled the sweatshirt over his head, saying something that made you pick up in relief to see he was changed. 
You grabbed your chest as you groaned, “Don’t do that again.” You were in too much a dry patch and desperation to be alone with an alien that had tentacles and a face like that. 
Now with his marks being covered you just needed something for his hands...You frowned a little before something occurred to you, going over to Jimin’s gym bag you grabbed the finger clothes he always used to lift barbells with. 
His fault he was a pussy that didn’t want to get callouses. 
You handed them to Jk as he tilted his head, first examining the fabric before he slipped them on, looking at them as he snorted as if amused before saying something that sounded an awful lot like he enjoyed wearing these. 
“Eat, now.” He perked up at your words as you nodded and he excitedly followed you as you grabbed your bag and phone before exiting the apartment building. JK was beyond fascination, looking around as if he had never seen anything like this place, even going so far as to wonder off a few times, immediately making you hold his hand once more to keep him next to you. 
Other people also stared at him, but mainly because he was acting weird, you shoved him a little and he seemed to understand to stop. 
But he still took a few peaks before his feet halted, making you nearly yanked back as he stopped, his lips parted and his eyes were all big and doe like in awe as he stared out over the sunset, speaking once more and you frowned. You wished you could at least pick up a few words of his own language, JK was honestly impressive in picking up so much in so little time. 
You smiled a little at how fond he appeared to be looking out over the sunset before you tugged his hand which was still in yours, he looked down at you before pointing towards the sun as you nodded, “Yeah it’s pretty, but let’s go eat, I’m starving.” 
“Pretty.” He repeated before looking back out over the sun as he repeated the word again as you tugged him along. Entering the Panda Express it was nearly empty given it was six o’clock already and the dinner rush had left but that was good, you weren’t sure you could control JK in this type of environment. 
JK only observed you as you ordered for the both of you, watch the mouth watering food slide down the servers before you paid for your meal, leading you both to sit the back of the store where glass paneling was up for JK to keep looking at the sunset as you set his box in front of him. 
Fried rice and orange chicken was never a bad combo for the first time eater. JK observed you as you held up your fork, plowing into your food as you sighed in contentment before a noise of amusement escaped you at the sight of JK pinching his brows as he struggled with holding his fork. 
His eyes darting to you as his lips parted a whine escaping him as he messed up your name again making you laugh even harder, you waved a hand before you set down your fork, leaning over the table as you spoke, “Okay fine, fine, no need to get so pouty. Here, you just...place them like this.” You fixed his long thick fingers that fumbled a little before they properly gripped the fork. 
“Okay? Like this.” You held up your own before scooping up a pile of rice with it, Jk mirrored you, puffing a breath in slight frustration at the sight of the rice falling from his fork a little, “If you’re mad about this I guess it’s a good thing i didn’t get us chopsticks.” You snorted as JK focused on his food. 
You watched in curiosity as he took his first bite, his brows furrowing for a moment and his held tilting as if he was heavily focused on how it felt in his mouth before his brows shot up and almost immediately began scooping more food into his mouth like he was a fucking starved man held captive. You were surprised at how fast he was devouring his food but you only smiled softly as you began eating as well, enjoying the rest of your meal in silence. 
JK had even ate the rest of your food once you were finished, you just sat there in your seat, your knee hiked up towards your chest while you ran a hand through your hair absentmindedly while watching him devour the rest of the food. 
“Good?” You called out, JK’s eyes finally leaving your box of food, rice sticking to his upper lip making you smile a little as he rapidly nodded, looking like he was drunk off fried rice and orange chicken, probably not even paying attention to what you said. 
By the time JK was finished he slumped in his seat, stretching out as a yawn escaped his lips, his eyes closing briefly before he sighed, looking out over the glass paneling as if something troubled him before his eyes darted back to your figure and back to the window.
You wished you could speak fluently in whatever language he spoke so you could ask what he was thinking about, once all of the innocence had melted off his expression in those child-like moments of glee, he was left like this, as if he was tired and maybe even lonely. 
How did he even get here? And did he need to get back? To where he was originally going? You thought back to his disappointment when he realized he was on Earth, and if you could stretch for a reach, you’d say he obviously had another location in mind before...whatever happened. 
“Hey,” you called out, drawing his attention as he raised his brows, “Home.” 
He tilted his head as he echoed the word, “Home?” You stood up as you nodded with a small smile, knowing damn well you wouldn’t be able to avoid Seokjin forever. 
JK stood up mirroring you before you guided him to where you threw your boxes away and he had even helped clean up the table before you both exited the shop, it was now dark out and the walk home was quiet as ever. But you enjoyed it, his company at least, you didn’t really have a lot of friends outside Jimin and Seokjin, who were your best friends since middle school and you all now split rent on an apartment close to campus. 
You opened the door, peeping in as JK stood there mildly confused, Jimin and Seokjin sat on the couch watching a movie much to your disappointment, opening the door fully you pressed a finger to your lips at JK as he tilted his head before you quietly shut the door. Grabbing his hand as you gently tugged it along. 
“Where in the absolute fuck do you think you’re taking him you horny fool?” 
God dammit. 
You grabbed your head with a groan as JK frowned, almost immediately concerned as he looked around, Seokjin stood up with his arms crossed, “He told me all about the goo monster here.” 
“He’s not a monster!” You screeched making Seokjin snort as he raised a brow, “...He’s an alien.” 
“Wearing MY sweatshirt!? That’s balenciaga!” Seokjin cried out, pointing an accusing finger at JK who looked a little concerned, looking at Seokjin then at you who he shuffled a little behind like a puppy with a tail between his legs. 
You felt an immediate wave of protection come over you at the sight of the action as you stood in front of him, despite him towering over you, “Would you stop! I’ll get him clothes tomorrow! Just leave him alone, okay, he’s hurt, he doesn't know anything about Earth and he just…!” 
“He’s not a dog Y/n!” You pressed your lips together as you looked away from Seokjin who glared at you pointedly, “We don’t know what this thing is or his intentions.” 
It was difficult to imagine JK’s intentions being anything but good when he was delighted at finding out your bed was bouncy, or the take of friend rice and orange chicken, or his excitement at the sunset, “He isn’t here to kill us! I can promise you that...just!” You squeezed your fists as you sighed, “Just trust me, okay? He’ll stay in my room and i’ll get everything he needs.” 
“Until what!?” Seokjin shouted at the lunacy of your words and you understood, it wasn’t everyday someone stumbled across an unconscious alien in a ditch, “Until what Y/n!?” 
“Until he’s able to speak enough English for us to know what the fuck he’s doing here, hell if I know Seok!?” You raised your arms, you...you hadn’t thought about his words yet, admittedly, “He just needs somewhere to stay until he understands more about Earth and how it works here okay? Listen…” You shuffled in your spot as you sighed, “The moment he poses a threat….i’ll deal with it okay? We can call the police or whatever and report it, but he’s been docile the whole time…” Okay that was a stretched truth but what they didn’t know wouldn’t kill them. 
“Jesus christ,” Seokjin groaned as he collapsed back on the couch as he sighed, “...Fine, just make him use Jimin’s sweatpants.” 
“Hey! I didn’t consent to this!” Jimin whined who had been admittedly just sitting back and enjoying the fight between you both as he almost always did, serves the hoe right. 
You said no more not wanting to push things further as you grabbed JK’s hand once more guiding him down the hallway as you pushed the door to your room open, his eyes lit up a little at the familiar sight, hurriedly he went to the bed as he bounced on his as he laid down, burying into your blankets and pillows with a content sigh as if he had been aching to lay down all day. 
You felt a little bad at the sight knowing you should’ve probably let him rest sooner, choosing to sit down on the floor you opened up your laptop before you began working on the paper that was due by tomorrow afternoon that you had chosen to ignore since you had came across JK this morning. 
By the time it was late night JK had been in a deep sleep, obviously deducing that humans weren’t that dangerous of a species to keep himself awake over. You yawned yourself as you shut your laptop, rubbing your eyes before you looked at your bed, frowning as you sighed. Grabbing the pillow that had fallen off the side of the bed as you laid on the ground. You had slept in worst places before. 
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You sighed in contentment as you rolled over on the nice soft surface, warmth filling you and sleep had been particularly forgiving to you last night. Man what had been so forgiving today to let you sleep this good?
The memories of yesterday had filtered to your mind too quickly making your eyes snap open, you had fell asleep on the floor how did you get in bed!? You searched frantically for the puppy like alien who was absent from where he had been collapsed here last night.
Fuck this better have not been that bad LSD trip! It would have you fucked for months that Jimin would really let you believe there was a hot alien guy you made up in your head. You quickly padded down the hallway almost frantically before your eyes were met with three heads of hair on the couch. 
“Die! Die!” Your mouth moved multiple times but you couldn’t form a single coherent sentence at the sound of JK’s nose wrinkling and buttons being mashed as the three boys were sitting with controllers in hand. 
“Which one of you fuckheads taught him that word!?” You growled finally, knowing JK was your age and probably even hundreds of years old depending on how his species aged and he understood the concept of killing but shit! You didn’t like hearing him say it like that when he seemed so naive and innocent about everything else on Earth. 
Seokjin and Jimin both whipped around sheepishly at the same time before they started immediately blaming one another as you gritted your teeth. You would’ve continued to glare at them both if it not been for JK’s cheeriful voice, he had immediately perked at the sound of before hurrying over, “Y/n!” His pronunciation had gotten better and it was difficult to not smile at the triumph in his voice as if knowing he had improved before stating your name again, “Game…!” He pointed at the TV before his controller. 
You nodded, “I can see that…so I guess he’s suddenly not a threat anymore?” You sneered at both of your bestfriends, JK frowned a little as he looked between you three, obviously confused as to what was going on. 
Seokjin looked mild, pretending as if he hadn’t heard what you said, prideful bitch, “He’s okay. Better at Jimin in Overwatch if you can believe it, maybe I’ll just let him be my duo instead.” 
“Hey fuck off!” Jimin glared at him, brushing his shoulder in somewhat offense before he spoke, “He is good though, wouldn’t stop saying your name this morning though.” 
“He couldn’t say it yesterday,” You explained before turning to JK again, offering him a weak smile, “Play.” You pointed at the TV in encouragement, who were you to tell the man what to do? You just rolled out of bed and needed something to eat before you interacted anymore with those two idiots. 
JK looked excited as he ran back over to the couch before he spoke, “Play! Y/n play!” Your lips parted at the way he strung the two words together so easily, he was catching onto the language...fast...like extremely fast. His species was obviously intellect enough that this was a skill of theirs, or so you assumed for him at least. 
“No play. Eat.” You pointed at yourself before the tiny kitchen as you walked away hearing a noise that sounded like a whine from him. 
“Hey you're making breakfast for all of us right?” Jimin called out, making you glare him down and if lazerbeams could shoot from your eyes he’d be a pile of ash, he held out his arms as he spoke, “Damn fine, so much for sharing is caring in this household huh.” 
You rubbed your eyes ignoring him as you yawned, immediately making a cup of coffee before turning to the fridge only to jump at the tall boy standing in front of you peering down wide eyed and curious, “Eat.” He said singularly before he offered the world's cutest smile that you couldn’t begrudge as easily as you could Jimin. 
Fuck! He was asking you to cook for him and he had a cute almost bunny-like smile and he looked so endured and hoping you would make him something as good as Panda Express, which there was no way you could but jesus you were willing to try. 
“Breakfast,” You pronounced slowly, knowing this was a bit of a harder word for him as he tilted his head and repeated ‘Eat’ once more before you shook your head, “Eat, breakfast.” You tapped the clock on the stove that ticked away, showing it was ten in the morning. 
JK only rubbed his head in confusion before shrugging, he sat patiently in the stool at the counter as he happily watched you cook away. You didn’t make anything too fancy, just breakfast sandwiches for you both before you set his plate down in front of him, a happy smile on his face as his nose crinkled. 
Not even hesitating before he dug into the meal which you had purposely made him two given how big of an appetite the man had, something akin to pride swelled in your chest though at the sight of JK nearly devouring the sandwiches happily, Jimin stepped into the kitchen looking offended as he sputtered, “Oh so you’ll make breakfast for the hoe that can hardly speak but you won’t for your best friend, I see how it is. Is it because you know I won’t fuck you and he probably will?” 
“Shut up!” You hissed immediately, unable to even enjoy your own food because of your head ass best friend who only smiled viciously at how flustered you were. JK was naively munching on his food not understanding a single word either of you were saying and not caring either when his face was stuffed with food. 
 Seokjin entered the kitchen making himself something to eat as well, “Hey, are you guys going to that party tonight at Beta Tau?” He tilted his head as your nose immediately wrinkled, you used to do frat parties back when you were a freshman but since then you just couldn’t keep the high pace anymore or the sleazy guys. 
“I’m going!” Jimin called out, before tapping his chin as he looked towards JK before you, “Hey, we should bring JK along, give him some good socialization!” 
“Uh no, that’s a horrible idea,” You shook your head immediately, “And I never said I was going either, and if I don’t go he’s definitely not going.” JK tilted his head in curiosity, knowing his name had been brought up before he between you both. 
“Boo you whore,” Jimin tossed a piece of bagel at you as you dodged it, his nose wrinkling as he pointed his butterknife at you, “You’ve just been nursing your wounds ever since Mark dumped you. You know it’ll be good for you and him.” 
“I am not nursing wounds!” You hissed out, feeling like a black rain cloud was piling over your head as you crossed your arms, “And it is a bad idea, JK hardly knows anything about Earth, taking him to a frat party is like tossing a baby into the ocean.” 
“Umm all I hear is bullshit babe,” Jimin scoffed as he rolled his eyes, “Besides, a little party never hurt anyone, it’s our job to show off what Humans are capable of after all.”
“At a frat party…?” You frowned as you sighed. 
“He’s not a baby Y/n,” Seokjin frowned as he looked between you both, “Just because he can’t speak english and he’s unfamiliar with how we live doesn’t mean he isn’t intelligent, i’m sure they have parties where he’s from. If this is about Mark that’s kinda selfish to hold him back.” 
You weren’t…! You weren’t babying him! And this wasn’t about Mark! You just…! You weren’t in the mood to see him, especially attached to Lisa, who you had already thought was hot as it was but instead of going for you she went for your boyfriend and now they were together, 
It had been a pretty big blow to your ego. 
“Fuck fine! We can go what the fuck ever. I have to go get him clothes today though if you don’t want him bumming off you guys though.” Jungkook was still wearing his clothes from yesterday and he didn’t look the least bit concerned though he watched you guys curiously. 
Jimin pumps his fists in victory as he shoved the bagel in his mouth, “You guys do that then, it’ll be a good bonding session, anyways I have a lecture I’m already late for peace.” He threw up a peace sign before quickly exiting as you huffed, you thought it was weird he was here at 10am on a friday morning. 
“Bond?” JK perked up looking at you in excitement as your brows furrowed a little, how could he pick up random words so fast? Jesus, he’d be enrolling in college just to see what it was about within the weeks if he didn’t chill out. 
“Something like that,” You muttered, “Finish your food though,” You gestured to his sandwich before you picked up your own taking a bite, “I need a shower first but afterwards we can go out and get you some new clothes.” 
JK frowned as he looked down at his clothes once more, obviously slowly beginning to understand you more and more as his lips jutted a little, clearly he liked his clothing he was wearing. 
Maybe they just didn’t change clothes where he was from? It was difficult to say, regardless you shook your head finishing up before you went to your room. JK followed you around like a lost puppy as he had finished eating before you. 
You had paused at the door to the bathroom as you frowned, JK looking as if he’d totally come in if you’d let him, “Go play.” You pointed towards the living room where Seokjin had resumed Overwatch. 
JK frowned as he looked between the living room and you, “Bond.” He pointed at you making your pupils widen a little, what was that supposed to mean? He shuffled a little more, nearly chest to chest with you as you craned your head to look at him, jesus he had to be 6’3 in the average pool of 5’9 men, “Bond.” He said more firmly. 
“No.” You shook your head, your smile became awkward and your body movement became flustered, what was he talking about, “You are gonna go play with Seokjin.” You pressed a hand on his chest, pushing him back a little, his lips quivering a little and hurt in his eyes as he looked down at your face as if in search, “And I’m gonna go shower.” 
You couldn’t stand to look at it any longer before you quickly shut the door, locking it as you groaned, pressing your back against the door. Why did he have to look at you like that…?
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“JK! Stop wandering off,” You lowered your voice a little as you tugged him along, your hand in his again as he had been exploring the store, “We’re here for clothes,” You held up the hanger you had in your hands as he frowned. He had been moping ever since you wouldn’t let him shower with you this morning. 
Or whatever his intention was. Regardless it didn’t change the fact that he needed clothes and despite being poor you were willing to throw out some money for him, but only because he was so cute. 
“Come on, let’s go to the dressing rooms, my arms are getting tired.” You tugged JK along who only pouted, obviously wanting to explore more than get things, but this was kind of a necessity. You gently pushed him into the dressing room, handing him the clothes as he frowned, his eyes looking down at the clothes then at you. 
Sighing you groaned, stepping into the small room with him before shutting the door, it wasn’t too cramped but you were uncomfortably close with him, “Okay….umm you obviously don’t understand the concept of trying on clothes so…” You flailed a little before tugging on his sweatshirt, he frowned before his eyes brightened a little. 
Understanding the message he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, your face immediately heating as you tried to not ogle his sculpted body which was muscular but slim, his shoulders broad but it suited his delicate small waist. 
You now had a good view of the marks that ran up his arms, they curved into a crescent at his hands and ran all the way along his arms, up his shoulders before curving to his back. You had changed his bandages this morning after you got out of the shower and admittedly they had healed a lot faster then you had assumed they would. 
 Whatever thoughts about his wounds however left your head as you nearly squeaked at the sight of tentacles immediately protruding from his back. Four to be exact, they were of a clear substance for the most part until your eyes followed further to their base where you noticed it matched the glow of his marks. 
A subtle pink and JK’s eyes a little bashful as he mumbled, “Bond…” His tentacles stretched forward a little as if in search for you before you squirmed towards the wall, trying your best to not let your horniness get the best of you in this situation. 
“U-ummm if you’re asking me to marry you the answer is gonna be no.” You held out the shirt in front of you to act as a semi shield to his advancement. Despite the language and cultural barrier JK seemed to understand your rejection as his lips quivered, his eyes dimming as he lowered them in acceptance. 
The tentacles immediately retracting back into his back as delicately took the hanger from you, fumbling to get it off and wow, way to make you feel like a dick. He wouldn’t even look at you as you sighed, relaxing a little as you grabbed the hanger pulling it off for him, “I’m gonna just let you do your business in here if you understand.” 
You exited as you grabbed your face, why did you feel so bad for rejecting him? You groaned as you leaned against the wall opposite of his room. Probably because you didn’t fully understand what he was trying to do if you could just speak the same language, and understand why he was here, maybe you wouldn’t have felt so bad. 
Seokjin kept saying he wasn’t a baby but...he was just so clueless as to how Earth worked, you couldn’t help it....You sighed as you rubbed your face, you just wished things could be easier. You had an afternoon lecture you needed to go to and you weren’t sure how JK would fair on his own and it admittedly gave you anxiety just thinking about it. 
He was curious by nature and you wouldn’t have a doubt he’d get bored easily just stuffed in your little apartment. JK opened the door to the dressing room, his gaze still cast on the ground as he handed the stuff back to you and you could only assume they all fit. You made sure they did because they were all at least two sizes too big for him but hey, they had to be comfy at least. 
Neither of you spoke as you paid for his things, holding the bags as you began walking back home, you didn’t like how quiet it was between you both and JK didn’t wander off not once as he let out what sounded like a sad sigh, his eyes looking up towards the sky as he mumbled something in his own language before back towards the ground. 
You felt like you kicked a puppy. 
You set his things down on the table as you looked towards the clock, you needed to get ready for class and honestly, you were gonna treat yourself to some starbucks after all this crap, “JK,” He peered up at you a little before his gaze became downcast, not looking at you but you knew he was listening, “I have to go to class…” You pointed to yourself, “You...need to stay...home.” You worded it carefully, his lips trembling now and you weren’t sure if he was going to cry or not, “I’ll be back!” You rushed, hurrying to the couch where he sat as you grabbed a remote. 
Pulling up Netflix as you shuffled around, deciding to put on a documentary for him on the ocean to keep him busy, maybe his language would improve meanwhile or...or he’d learn something, hell if you knew. 
JK frowned, sighing as he lowered his gaze in acceptance, reaching out you sighed, grabbing his face to make him look at you, “I’ll be back.” You spoke, your thumbs tethering over his skin which felt so soft and subtle, almost even more soft than any other person you had ever met, the glow of the TV made that iridescent tone reflect just a little. 
He really was the prettiest thing you had ever set your eyes on. 
He said nothing before you gave his face a little squeeze before letting him go, pressing play on the TV as he turned to watch, his expression slowly melted from sadness to that curious expression as he tilted his head, a purple glow from the crescents on his hands as he watched in fascination. 
You smiled a little before you grabbed your bags and slowly closed the door. You’d just hope he could figure out how to use the remote if he wanted to watch something else. 
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Class was slow and you couldn’t help but wonder what JK was doing the whole time much to your frustration, you needed to focus on taking notes as midterms were coming up and you would absolutely fail if you didn’t pay attention. 
The whole class dragged on for two hours and in order to try and do damage control for your lack of attention you ended up going to the library to study more and make flashcards as you had originally planned before your life fell apart due to an alien binging on netflix back at home. 
You eventually got a peace of mind when you pushed your earbuds in and put on music to help you focus. Proud of your work you leaned back in your chair as you sighed in contentment before your eyes finally landed on your phone, not thinking much before your eyes nearly popped out of your head. It was almost seven in the afternoon! Fuck! You’d be leaving within the hour to get to the frat. 
Shoving all of your shit back into your bag you hurriedly zipped up before running out of the library, fumbling the whole way home before you entered the house in a rush. Much to your surprise though Seokjin and Jimin were already ready and JK looked happy to be around them both. 
What you didn’t expect for what you had bought him to look so good, he was wearing a fitted shirt and jeans, Jimin must’ve let him borrow his leather jacket and those fingerless clothes adorned his hands, “Hey hold still!” Seokjin spoke as he kept combing his hair, obviously styling it up, “I should’ve gone into cosmetology for being this good at turning trash to gold.” 
“Not everyone wants to look like Tinky Winky on steroids Seok.” You called out as you plopped your bag down in the ‘study corner’ which you and Jimin invented as a way to justify your laziness and Seokjin had said you both were on thin ice but he’d allow it because he also was lazy. 
Seokjin whipped around, those bratz lips of his parting in offense as you shrugged, holding up your hands, not about to apologize for the healthy dose of truth he needed at least once a day. 
“Y/n!” JK cried out, immediately running over to you making Seokjin groan as he grabbed your shoulders, frantically checking over you as if making sure you weren’t hurt. You frowned as you looked down at yourself. 
“I think he was worried about you.” Jimin was licking a drumstick at the moment while sitting on the handle of the couch, “He wouldn’t stop saying your name when I first got in and he looked like a scared puppy. Had to convince him that it was not a good idea to go look for you like he first suggested.” 
“Suggested?” You frowned as you looked back up at the tall boy who immediately cupped your face making you squirm a little, perhaps startled and a little touch starved, “Umm I told you I’d be back…” Not surprised he didn’t understand you but still. 
You gently grabbed his wrists, tugging them away from your face as you smiled awkwardly, trying to not think about the fact that this man looked even hotter then before, if that was even possible, “I need to go get dressed.” 
“Nope, nu uh, I’m not finished with you.” JK was yanked back with a whine as Seokjin grabbed him by the collar as he had attempted to follow you, much to your relief because you didn’t need another episode of earlier today. 
You didn’t take too long to get dressed, choosing to stay casual as you typically would given you didn’t plan of staying long and hey, if all hell broke lose maybe you’d get yourself and JK mcdonalds on the way back. 
Pulling the flannel over your shoulders you stepped out of your room, Jimin incessantly jingling his keys as he spoke, “You took too long, we’re gonna be late!” 
“You’re late everywhere we go you whore.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing JK’s hand as you all left the apartment, he still seemed a bit confused as to where you all were going but had no complaints as you both sat together in the back of the car which he inspected.
Pressing the button on top of the ceiling only to immediately squint with a whine at the light, you pressed it again turning it off as you looked at him, “Stop touching things.” He pouted a little, choosing to grab your hand as he mumbled something in his own language. 
The ride was short and you couldn’t stop dreading what might possibly happen at the party, one scared with JK and it was over, the police would get involved and they would take him off to some lab where he could get tested and poked and prodded and the idea was upsetting to think about. JK hadn’t been here for more then a day and somehow you decided taking him to a party was a good idea? 
You crumpled in your seat, looking outside the window as you watched the party rage on in the house. Of course you wanted to avoid your ex but that wasn’t your main worry for the night. Opening the door you stepped out, JK quickly following after you as you called out, “JK...stay with me okay?” 
He nodded though you weren’t quite sure if he understood, regardless he seemed happy enough to hold your hand as the three of you entered, the music was blaring and the crowd was big tonight given it was a friday and everyone could cut loose. Not the wildest you had seen but certainly not the smallest. You looked at JK in concern but much to your surprise he only looked around in curiosity as he nodded, “Party?” He asked as he raised his brows. 
You nodded, “Yeah, it’s a party.” You called back over the music, looking around for somewhere a little more quiet but Jimin cut in, grabbing JK’s arm, “Hey, we’re playing beerpong and I need to know if he has good aim.” 
JK was immediately tugged from you as you glared at Jimin his smile cheeky, “Chill, he’ll be fine, looks like he’s used to this kind of scene. Maybe he’s a space fuckboy. We’ll watch him go relax.” JK looked back at you mildly concerned but you gave him a reassuring smile as you nodded, despite not fully agreeing with it. 
Could JK even drink? You felt stressed but then again you did pour rubbing alcohol all over a wound that could have reacted like acid to him, you supposed if he knew something was dangerous he would avoid it, or so you could only hope. 
“Bitch! Why haven’t you been answering my messages!?” You jumped at the sight of the blond looking ready to mow you over, Solar’s heels clicked against the ground as she nearly ran for blood at the sight of you. 
Cowering a little your lips twisted into a sheepish smile, your best friend glaring down at you and a pout adorning her lips, you hadn’t meant to ignore her texts the whole day but other things had obviously taken precedent. Should you tell her? 
“It better be for a good reason.” She pointed at you accusingly before you made your way to the buildable table set out with drinks on it, purposely avoiding the jungle juice you knew for a fact probably had that shitty bang energy in as you grabbed a bottle of benchmark, sure it was cheap and tasted like shit but didn’t that sum up your whole personality?
“Well…” You took a breath, your expression contorting a little as you looked up at Solar who waiting expectantly, why the fuck not? If anyone could keep a secret it was her- hence her promise to Kim Jenny in 5th grade that she wouldn’t tell you that she liked the same boy and ended up helping her ask him out. 
Which you only found out about last year in a drunk truth or dare session and you marked your own words that the next time you saw Jenny you'd slap her across the face. Which you ended up not, instead you were still drunk and ended up crying with her because her dog had died earlier that day. 
Still, the principle remained, Solar would keep it a secret. Taking a long chug of the mixed drink a warm burn settled in your throat, “I discovered an alien and- he has tentacles that literally fucking explode from his back.” 
Solar nearly snorted out her drink as she began laughing, “Girl you watch too much hentai. Seriously, what’s up?” Her laughing died down before an uncomfortable silence sat between you both, your lips quivered only a little as you looked up at her, her expression immediately dropping, “You’re joking…” 
“I wish I was Sol…” You took another long drink. 
“You’re joking!” She shouted, her lips dropping, “Okay no, tell me everything! Where is it? What does it look like? You better not be pranking me right now…!” 
You waved a hand, walking as she quickly followed as you recalled the events of how you found JK and what had ensued in the last 24 hours before you paused at the beerpong table, pointing at JK. Your face warm at the sight of a cocky smirk on his face, obviously his team winning as he landed yet another shot assuming by the sound of the other teams groan. 
“That...Y/n…” She turned to you deflating a little at the sight of him, obviously hoping for something a little more...alien like, “You’re such an ass!” 
“He is! You just can’t see the shitty avatar cosplay beneath all the clothes! He does have tentacles again, by the way...I am not crazy!” You grabbed your chest in offense, “You wanna know what I’ve been doing the last 24 hours, there it is! Trying to figure out what to do with an alien that keeps trying to bone me.” 
“Bone you?” Solar raised her brows before she scoffed a little, her brows raised as she took a sip from her cup, “Thought being a monster fucker was always your thing?” You shoved her a little, making her snort in amusement, again, if you could just figure out what his motive was and...maybe have a decent conversation, “Let's say he is an alien...not that I believe you but let's say he is...what are you gonna do about it? I mean really….?” 
You rubbed your head as you frowned, “Well...I don’t know.” you confessed with an awkward expression as she sighed, “I just…! I’m assuming he probably has his own plan…! But generally I’m hoping as he learned english- which is extremely fast by the way- that he’ll eventually tell us what happened and where to go from here I mean…” 
You frowned a little, something sad stirring inside you, there was nothing holding JK back from just leaving you all one night when he’s found what he needs, or figures out where to go or...whatever it is he’s doing here, “If he even stays here long enough…” 
Solar hummed before tapping her cheek, “That’s it, I’m playing against him, he hasn’t missed a single shot.” You tried to call out to her but it was useless, when Solar was determined, nothing would stop her.
You sighed as you turned away, feeling too much anxiety from watching JK to try and come in further especially if he caught sight of you. JK surprisingly enough seemed as though he had fun a lot of the night, you had stayed curled up in a corner on your phone most of the time brooding while nursing your drink which had admittedly helped you relax a little. 
Eventually though, good times always come to an end, this being no exception, “Hey babe, long time no see?” You stared down at your phone, scrolling through instagram as you ignored the sound of Mark’s voice, “Awwh c’mon, don’t ignore me.” 
You inhaled sharply, closing your eyes before you put away your phone, looking up at him as you raised a brow trying to ignore your heart racing just a hair, “Can I help you?” You asked, trying to act as if this totally wasn’t freaking you the fuck out. 
“You sure can,” Mark flirted, sending you that wink that was the very reason you had spun out in the first place with this guy and god you couldn’t deny his flirty nature always got the best of you, “Me and Lisa were hoping for a third in bed tonight and I thought, what girl would be better than my main girl.” 
He smiled, delicately holding your chin with a proud look and for a half a second you had forgotten how much of a bitch he was, that was until your mind lingered on the word ‘main girl’ to which your lips curled slowly, “...Main girl?” You scoffed immediately slapping his hand away as you shouted, “Main girl!? Since when was I the main girl!?” You watched Mark groan as you shook your head, “Uh no! You came up to me! You don’t get to act like this and you were the one that left me in the first place, why don’t you go back to your main girl!” 
“God you’re so over emotional-” You didn’t even let the little gaslighting fuck finish before you splashed him with your drink, a scoff escaping him as he raised his brows, “Are you fucking serious Y/n?” 
“Yeah, fuck you.” You shoved him before walking out of the kitchen, what a piece of shit! How dare he act all put out when he was the one that approached you, in a total douchebag way at that! You weren’t sure where everybody had went and at this point it was almost ten o’clock and you didn’t care! You just wanted to take a warm shower and go to bed!
You stepped down the stairs of the frat house and into the cool night as as you heaved a breath, scoffing as you rolled your eyes, this was exactly why you hated going to frat parties at Beta Tau now because you almost always ended up in an argument with Mark. 
Stupid little fuck. You muttered it to yourself as you wrapped the flannel around you, your eyes warily finding that of a drunk elderly man who definitely appeared in his forties, alone and his eyes immediately finding your lone figure. 
You kept your eyes on your phone as you slowly approached in hopes of walking past him, you hated parties, you hated going out at night, you hated the fact that you let yourself get so heated in the moment, “Well aren’t you just looking pretty tonight sweetheart.” You sighed in exasperation at the sound of his voice calling out to you.
“Thanks.” You offered dryly, not even attempting to smile because you knew it would just sound like that much more of an invitation to him and yet, even your singular dry word was enough of  a green light to him. 
A hand suddenly wrapped around your upperarm yanking you over as you squeaked out, “How about I take you back to my place? Show you a good time yeah?” He reeked of beer and your nose wrinkled as your expression twisted and your hands trembled. 
“Sir- I..I really need to get home…” You mumbled, not wanting to provoke him but your fear was getting the better of you by the second as you tried to keep yourself from panicking. You’ve never gone out tonight and you should’ve stood your ground regardless of who went were. 
His hands squeezed on your arms eliciting a noise of pain from you and you couldn’t even look at the guy as he growled, “Or I could go home with you sweetheart, or better yet. Why don’t we go over here…! Ow you bitch!” You had smashed his foot with your own but it wasn’t enough for him to let go of you. 
Instead his grip only got tighter making you cry out in pain as your eyes stung with tears, wishing he could just let you go...Within seconds though the man was nearly ripped away from you and a larger figure had wedged between you both, “Leave.” It was a one word command that was clear and demanding from JK, you couldn’t see his face and you weren’t sure you wanted too. 
JK was shoved back from the guy and taking this as an offense, you nearly jumped back at the sight of tentacles bursting from his back, your eyes bulging at the sight, not a single rip in his clothes as if they were transparent yet a lightening of bright fiery ran streaked through him. Your lips nearly dropped though because they obviously weren’t too transparent as JK used them to slam the guy into a wall with enough force to drive him unconscious. 
“JK! Hey! Woah holy shit!” You grabbed your head, JK whipped around, anger still evident on his face but his concern had taken over as he called out your name, what he hadn’t expected as for you to drag him into the alleyway. 
Tentacles still gracefully flowing behind him as if they were underwater, your eyes darting everywhere and anywhere for anyone to have possibly seen and yet…! “Don’t you ever do that again!” You hissed, grabbing your head in stress, if anyone saw that…! Anyone it was over! “Someone could’ve see you!” 
JK might not have fully understood what you said, but he could understand a few words here and there and your tone of voice, his expression darkening and his lips twitching in anger and disagreement, “Hurt!” He growled back pointing at you. 
“I don’t care if I got hurt!” You cried out, running your hands through your hair, anxiety shot through your veins, “You can’t do that!” You pointed at his tentacles, “You aren't human! Humans can’t do that!”
“Hurt!” He growled even louder, now grabbing your forearms in demand, firm enough that you couldn’t pull away but gentle enough that it didn’t hurt, “Y/n hurt!” He emphasized as best he could, his nose wrinkling in frustration as he spoke, “Protect!” It was spoken a little word but you understood overall what he meant. 
“Yes you can protect me that’s fine! But you have to act human!” You pointed at yourself, shaking his arm away before forcefully rolling up his sleeve, the marks which were burning red, “Human!” You snapped as you pointed at your own bare arm compared to his, “Not human!” You pointed to JK’s, “You can’t be that careless!” 
You were just lucky that the guy was drunk and hopefully wouldn’t remember any of this, JK’s lips twitched as if he still didn’t agree with you, snapping something back in his own tongue as he roughly shoved his sleeve back down before he went on what sounded like a long rant, the tentacles retracting into his back once more as he threw his arms up and you stepped back a little. 
You had never heard him so...vocal...or angry before...Which you had brought on yourself, you understood he thought it was the right thing to do and it would’ve been fine had he not decided to get his four other tendons involved. You above anything else, didn’t want JK to be taken from you. JK kept going though in his tongue, directly all of his- what sounded like unpleasant words at you as you crossed your arms, looking at the ground with gritted teeth and ignoring the way your eyes were attempting to blur in tears. 
Even if you couldn’t understand him you were positive you didn’t like or agree with whatever he was saying. You fixed your flannel that had been ruffled from the man as you sniffled harshly, trying to ignore the wet warm tears that began trickling down your face. JK had paused from his rant before frowning, watching the liquid trickling down your face as you closed your eyes. 
Puffing a breath he sighed, figuring it wasn’t any use in trying to talk to you anyways, Orion tongue was beyond ancient to human civilization which is why he hadn’t bothered trying to say any sort of phrases in his own language. 
JK couldn’t stand seeing you like this, from what he observed on- if he assumed he was correct- the TV, humans often depicted this as sadness. Unable to stand this gesture JK did what he had watched, wrapping his arms around you in a form of human affection as he set his chin on top of your head, wetness staining his shirt and he held a silent victorious moment at your reciprocation to his affection. Trying to bond with you had been such a pain in the ass with the language barrier and you almost always looked uncomfortable any time he tried to initiate a bonding session. 
True the locations might have been inappropriate but he was excited, he wanted to find a mate and soon, after all that was part of the original plan, even if it wasn’t supposed to be on earth. You had mumbled something he couldn’t quite figure out until you had mentioned the word Home, as in the place you slept. JK nodded, assuming that was where you had intended on going in the first place. 
He had caught sight of you leaving the house extremely upset and he wanted to tag along in hope that maybe with some alone time at the house, you’d both finally be able to properly bond, he could feel his scaling warm a bit and he could even spot a tint of pink from beneath his gloves much to his embarrassment. 
Knowing this was a human affection JK kept his arm wrapped around you as you both walked home, your hands on your eyes as you sniffled a little and you hadn’t spoken the entire walk back making him a little sad. Your voice was soft and pleasant on his ears which often picked up too many odd and miscellaneous sounds. 
Pulling off your flannel you sighed, muttering something that he leaned in a little to focus on understanding, knowing it sounded something like an apology. JK only offered a small smile, “Friend?” He spoke softly, he liked that word, it was the first one you had taught him after all. 
You nodded, looking severely tired as you repeated the word back before padding to your room to get changed, little by little JK understood more and more about humanity on Earth which wasn’t exactly new, but rather...a bit archaic by Orionia’s standards.
JK had made sure to go into the room with the odd looking boat to change into clothes, knowing it always elicited an odd reaction from you whenever he changed in front of you. Getting into something more comfortable he could appreciate the human need for comfort. 
Feeling a bit timid he peeped into your room where you laid on your bed, looking half asleep but you gestured him in much to his excitement, understanding bonding wouldn’t likely happen now that you were too tired but he appreciated your company, you made things much easier for his stay on Earth. 
Pulling out your lap held device JK tilted his head, oh…! This was like the mainboard back on the ship, just a smaller version of it, a computer? But a lap verison? He furrowed his brows a little, the name on the tip of his tongue as his nose wrinkled. Much to his delight though you typed up the same place where he had been watching educational videos earlier today. 
He only hoped you’d stay this time, he had been extremely worried the Arbitrator's had found you, your friends however had said multiple times you were just at ‘Class’ whatever that was. And they seemed calm enough and if they knew your routine then...he had no reason to assume they were conspiring with the enemy. 
Much to his happiness you laid back down as you stretched out before curling up, your eyes closing as he clicked onto the video of the ocean, as he had learned Earth held quite the exotic lifeform in the sea. 
It was nearing 11:30 which you had pointed at the clock earlier today except now it was dark out, JK could only deduce there was certain names for eating at certain times of the day, he tapped on his chin, scrolling down the assortment of human entertainment. Wanting something to figure out how to win your affection to be his mate. A loud piercing screech nearly jolted him out of bed, holding his head as he frantically looked towards you before feeling relief fill him. If you couldn’t hear this then…! 
He fumbled as he hurried to the window, pushing through the blinds as he peered out, seeing a large flare being shot up into the sky in a deep hue of blue and purple, that acted as something he saw on a video. A firework, if he remembered correctly. JK perked up, Taehyung and Namjoon must be okay, this was what…? At least ten miles south, in human terms? He remembered that much from the academy. 
JK nearly ran out the door before he paused, his eyes looking over your sleeping figure he...he couldn't just leave you here...and…! He perked up, “Y/n!” He called out, jostling you awake as you rolled over with a groan, “Y/n! Home!” He spoke determined, if he could get you to go with him then he could explain everything. 
“What? JK seriously? This better be important.” You groaned as your eyes tiredly cracked opened at the sight of doe eyes looking at you urgently, he nearly ripping you out of bed with a squeak, “Home!” He spoke as he brought your shoes to you before pointing out the window, “Home!” 
...Oh...oh god, this was going to be a long night, wasn’t it…? 
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angryschnauzer · 3 years
Text
He’s A Keeper
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Summary: Working as an artist hired by Durrell Zoo, you spend your days sketching the day to day life of the animals and the keepers. One keeper in particular catches your eye.
Pairing: AU Zookeeper Henry Cavill x Female Reader (no race or size mentioned)
Fandom: Henry Cavill
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Safe Sex/Use of Condoms, Realistic Sex/Relationship discussion, Vaginal Sex.
Typo’s are allowed to run wild and free, only the finest organic free range fuck ups for me.
I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and hit ‘notifications’, you’ll get an alert every time i post something new. Back catalogue/masterlist can be found there and also on AO3
He’s A Keeper
Working the pencils over the sketchpad you quietly captured the beauty of the animals the zookeepers had nursed back to full health, the Ruffed Lemur currently hanging off the keepers arm as he spoke through the headset to the group of excited school children watching through the glass. 
You’d been hired by the zoo to capture day to day life at the zoo throughout the summer season, drawing the animals and the humans, however there was one particular human you had found yourself drawn to numerous times, and that was the rather tasty zookeeper by the name of Henry. He also had one of the sexiest voices you’d ever had the pleasure to listen to, so as he explained about the Lemur’s your mind wandered, as did your gaze;
“... originally from Madagascar, and have been part of Durrell zoo since 1982 where they have been essential to the breeding program…”
Your mind fell even further into the gutter at the word ‘breeding’, your eyes raking down Henry’s body, taking in how the branded t-shirt clung to his chest before tapering down to a narrow waist where it was neatly tucked into cargo pants that did little to hide how thick his thighs were and a pert arse you could bounce a satsuma off of. Biting the end of the pencil you had all but given up drawing, only realising that the talk was over when the group of school children were being herded onto the next exhibit by their tour guide and teachers.
When the kids had disappeared you finally got back to drawing, watching as Henry finished up feeding the Lemur’s before he met your gaze and smiled at you. Tapping your pencil on the glass he frowned and shook his head, before smiling and pointing to the sign in the corner of the window that said ‘do not tap the glass’, getting closer you tried to mouth your words to him, but was surprised when his eyes went wide in almost shock, before looking down and realising you had pressed your chest to the glass, your low cut cami top helping to accentuate your cleavage. When you looked up again he was gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, before he appeared through a door to the side of the viewing area;
“Hi” he had a smile that could charm the panties off a nun; “Did you want me?”
“God yes…” Oh fuck, did you say that out loud?; “Sorry, i mean, you’ve dropped the foam bit off your headset...”
He glanced into the enclosure just at the moment one of the larger Lemur’s picked up the small round piece of foam and staring straight at Henry, proceeded to rip it into tiny pieces.
“Furry little fucker…” he cursed under his breath before turning back to you, but before he could say anything a group of other keepers came walking in and soon you were hanging onto the periphery of their conversation where they were discussing going for drinks after work. Moving to pack your stuff up as you presumed they weren’t including you, but a call of your nickname drew your attention;
“Hey Da Vinci, you up for a few beers after work?”
You hesitated to answer, glancing at Henry who had a smile across his face and a hopeful look in his eye;
“We’re all going…”
“Ok, yeah sure, that’d be great” you agreed. 
-
An hour later you were sitting on the wall outside the main entrance waiting for the rest of the keepers to finish their shifts, smiling as you saw them coming out of the doors, and the ensuing 10 minutes that followed as people sorted out who was driving and how many people could fit into just a couple of small cars. As spaces were allocated Henry laughed and shook his head;
“I am NOT riding five up in a Renault Clio, i’m too tall, i’ll have to fold myself in half! Where are we going anyway, i can take my bike and just walk home after”
Waiting as everyone discussed location and finished off seat allocation, they’d finally decided when Henry turned to you;
“Hey, i think the last seats are in the stoner wagon…”
“Oh…” you didn’t have anything against anyone smoking pot, but didn’t fancy being in a car you could barely see out of the windows of.
“But you can ride with me on my bike?”
Looking to where Henry was pointing, you saw a fairly large trails bike, the kind that could go 50mph over rough land and through forests;
“I… I don’t have a helmet…”
“Wait here, let me run into the locker room and grab the spare i keep here”
Everyone else pulled away as Henry ran into the zoo, and you glanced at the bike. You’d never been on a motorbike before, so this would be a first. Stowing everything loose in your backpack, you hooked it over both shoulders just as Henry reemerged from the building, swinging his keys from one finger as he came to stand in front of you;
“Hey, thanks for waiting”
“No worries! So, where are we going again?”
“The pub in Rozel does good food and pulls a great pint” he nodded to his left and you saw a row of motorbikes; “You ever ridden?”
Shaking your head you laughed; “No, never”
He carefully helped you put the helmet on, his nimble fingers helping to secure the strap beneath your chin before putting his own on and climbing onto the bike, pushing it off the kick stand and nodding for you to climb on. You tried to sit back, but he wrapped his arm behind his back and pulled you flush to his body;
“Gotta hold on tight, otherwise you’ll throw the balance off. Lean when i lean and just squeeze a bit harder if you’re scared, the ride won’t take long” he shouted over the thrum of the noisy engine idling.
The ride down to the small village of Rozel had been exhilarating, from the vibration of the motorbike between your legs to the way you were able to wrap your arms around Henry’s waist and cling to him as he hurtled around the country roads at what seemed like warp speed, when in fact it was little more than 30mph. By the time you arrived in the small fishing cove your heart was racing and you actually let out a reluctant moan at the thought of removing your arms from around Henry’s waist.
“C’mon” he grinned as he helped you off the bike; “I’ll buy you a vodka and coke to calm your nerves”
“It wasn’t nerves” you muttered to yourself, smirking as you know he heard you.
-
The group had managed to find a cluster of small tables chairs and benches in the corner of the pub beer garden, and as the sun had set behind the hills to the rear of the pub, the cold Atlantic sea had glowed in pale blues and pinks. You were squashed into a bench with Henry on one side and another enormous hulk of a keeper on the other, and as the temperature had dropped you’d found yourself thankful that Henry had casually rested his arm behind you so you could leech some of his warmth, but it didn’t stop a violent shiver involuntarily running up your spine.
“Cold?” Henry asked quietly, before gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close; “Any better?”
You nodded and let out a very quiet whine as you smiled at him, completely surrounded by his scent and warmth. It made your stomach do a flip and you clenched your thighs together, something that didn’t get past Henry as your leg twitched against his thigh. Before either of you could say anything an enormous bowl of cheesy fries was set down between you, your stomach growling at the aroma’s that wafted around you as it turned out someone had ordered sharing bowls for the whole table.
With the meal mostly devoured as you’d sat side by side on a small wooden bench in the pub garden, laughing as you fed each other and strings of cheese hung from your fingers. As the giggles of a joke faded away you glanced at Henry’s almost finished pint;
“Hey, you aren’t planning on riding that bike home are you?”
“Nah, i’d never drive after a pint, let alone three… my place is just behind The Navigator restaurant…” he paused; “Oh god, where are you staying, do i need to call you a taxi?”
“No no, i’m renting a studio up the hill, on the hairpin bend”
“Oh…” 
It wasn’t a bad ‘oh’ and there was definitely something loaded in the subtext, so when people had started to leave and arrange ride’s back to St Helier and St Johns it felt natural for Henry to stand with his arm around your shoulders as you both waved everyone off.
“Can i walk you home?” he asked, his voice low and full of promise, and you nodded as he slid his hand into yours, leading you along the low coast road that skirted the harbour.
-
You hadn’t gotten far before the evening turned even better, a brief suggestion of a walk along the beach as the tide was out soon had your feet in soft sand as you were pressed to the weathered stone of the sea wall, Henry’s lips on your neck as your fingers dug into his back, his teeth nipping and biting at whatever exposed flesh he could find. You hadn’t even realised he was going lower until he was on his knees in front of you, those sea blue irises staring up at you as he pressed kisses to your legs where your shorts ended. His fingers softly rested on the button and he finally spoke, his voice low and thick with lust;
“May i?”
Nodding fervently you bit your lip as you watched him slowly unbutton you, pulling the garment down your legs until you were able to step out. Never breaking eye contact he lifted your leg and gently rested it on his shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses up your inner thigh until his face was pressed against your panties and his wide tongue worked against the soaked cotton and lace. His finger crooked beneath them and tugged the scrap of fabric to the side, seeking out your clit before tracing down to your cunt and tenderly teasing the entrance.
“Henry… please…” you whined, desperate for more
“Don’t you worry, i’m gonna make you see stars…”
Pushing his head forwards his lips caught your clit as he slowly slid two fingers into your soaked channel. You let out a long groan at the feel of his lips and fingers finding the right spot immediately, his other hand cupping the back of your thigh before he ran it around your hip and caught your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he quickly drove you closer and closer to the edge with that added touch of intimacy. Suddenly he hummed against your clit and the world exploded, making you cum so hard you truly did see stars as a white heat bloomed in your belly and you rode Henry’s fingers until you were spent.
As you rested against the wall behind you he carefully withdrew his fingers, licking them clean as he tugged your shorts up your legs. You couldn’t help but to notice the obscene bulge in the front of his cargo pants, your hand rubbing over the smooth curve of it;
“You keep doing that and i’ll cum in my boxers… “ he panted out, his lips inches from yours; “What’s your room like?”
“Its a little summer cabin studio right at the end of the garden, away from the other holiday rentals and the main house… what about you…”
“Shared flat with two other guys from the zoo. They’re probably drinking in the lounge right now… so, your place?”
-
Unlocking the door you stepped inside and turned on a small lamp, standing aside so Henry could come into your small summer living space.
“Mmm nice” he nodded and looked around; “Wanna give me the tour?”
You snorted out a laugh at the formality, and held your arm out;
“Well this is the kitchen area, right next door we have the smallest shower room in Jersey, and here’s the bed” you didn’t need to take a single step for the ‘tour’, the room seeming even smaller as Henry took a single stride and wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you flush with his chest. Never breaking eye contact he gently trailed a single finger over your cheek, his thumb brushing your plump bottom lip;
“Are you going to be good for me?”
Your legs almost buckled at the deep baritone of his voice, igniting something within you that you hadn’t even known existed, eagerly nodding;
“Yes Sir”
Lowering his lips to yours he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips as he took control, walking the pair of you back until your legs hit the bed and you fell back onto the soft unmade covers. Covering your body with his, he quickly stripped you of your clothing, his mouth trailing behind his hands so every inch of you was gifted with a kiss. 
Standing between your legs he pulled his t-shirt over his head and you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of his body; toned and just the right amount of hair on his chest and a treasure trail on his abdomen that surely led to untold riches. Quickly sitting up your hands joined his on his button to his cargo pants;
“May i?”
Henry released his hands and nodded, watching as you carefully plucked the button before lowering the zipper painfully slowly, his boxers tented obscenely and you couldn’t help but to cup him in your palm, the searing heat of his engorged cock a welcome feel in your hands, the wide mushroom head clearly visible through the stretched fabric. Unceremoniously tugging the rest of his clothing down, you felt yourself getting wetter as his beautiful cock was finally revealed; big, thick and uncut, you had to taste him and quickly ducked your head forwards, swallowing his head between your lips as his hands flew to your hair to steady himself.
Now it was your turn to drive him crazy with your mouth, taking him as deep as you could even though it was barely half of his length, you wrapped both hands around what was left, the thick root of his shaft filling both palms. A few more pumps and he pulled his hips back with a gasp, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his bulbous tip;
“If you keep doing that i’m gonna cum far too soon…” he said, his voice shaking; “Lay back and let me treat you right…”
Scooting up the bed you settled against the pillows as you watched Henry shed himself of the rest of his clothing, his boots and socks hooked off, cargo pants and underwear all left in a messy pile at the side of the bed, before he crawled up the mattress like a Panther stalking its prey.
Capturing your lips for another searing kiss, you felt his hot shaft against your belly, burning against your skin and you so desperately wanted to feel him inside you. Pulling away just slightly you were already breathless;
“Just a second…” reaching for the small drawer at side of the bed you pulled out an unopened box of condoms, Henry sitting back on his knees as you ripped the box’s cellophane open with your teeth and pulled out a small foil packet, tearing it open before smoothing the latex over Henry’s shaft. Looking up to his face he wore a rather sheepish smile;
“Sorry, shoulda’ thought of that”
“S’ok, a girl’s gotta keep sharp these days…”
“Right…” he met your gaze; “But you know, if you had gotten pregnant, i would have stood by you”
“Umm thanks? But its for STD’s. I’m on the pill”
“Oh… good thinking…”
A tense pause hung over the pair of you, before you reached up and rested your hand on his chest;
“Shall we continue?”
At your words the tension in the room suddenly dissipated, Henry kissing you as he slid a hand between your bodies so he could position himself at your entrance, groaning as he pushed in slowly breaching your body. Your tight channel hugged him tight, unfamiliar with such a size splitting your walls so he paused, pressing light kisses to your face as your body grew accustomed with his size and the heavy weight of his dick in your pillowy soft embrace. Finally you moaned out his name;
“Henry… please…”
“What do you need?”
“Move… please move. Fuck me, please”
Pushing up on his forearms he started to fluidly move his hips, slow and steady, each thrust was gentle but firm, your body yielding to him as he started to increase the pace, the sound of hot bodies meeting filling the small wooden cabin as the gentle sounds of the sea not far away filled the rest of the night. Soft moans spilled from your lips at the feel of his body playing yours like a delicate instrument, waiting for the chorus and the inevitable crescendo. But he was going to play the entire symphony first, knowing how to get you to sing the high notes as the thrum of your bodies were in tune with each other completely.
With the stretch of his girth and the way the curve of it meant he was able to find your g-spot with every thrust you were fast approaching your orgasm, your body trembling as your lips found a life of their own;
“Henry… please, so good… keep doing that… oh god, i’m gonna cum…”
“That’s it, my good girl, cum on my cock, let me feel you squeezing me so tight… feel so amazing right now… that’s it, you can do it…”
With a cry you came, your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled him deep whilst your body shook with a fierce orgasm, triggering his own as he pumped a heavy load into the condom.
Finally spent, Henry settled on top of you, his weight a heavy comfort as your sweaty bodies lay skin to skin, the gentle roughness of his chest hair against your naked breasts a tender reminder of his virility. When he started to soften he finally shifted, holding the condom at the base as he pulled out and staggered the few steps to your small bathroom;
“I’ll be back in a second, gotta sort this out…”
The door closed and you shifted on the bed, pulling the duvet back and sliding between the sheets, listening as you heard the tell tale sound of a man urinating and the high pitched, double barrelled squeak of a fart. The flush of the toilet and water running soon after meant you knew the second he would reappear, a flannel in his hand and he stopped dead, his cheeks suddenly bright crimson;
“You heard that didn’t you?”
“It's a small wooden cabin… yes i did”
“Sorry” he approached the bed and with a warm flannel he carefully cleaned between your thighs, pressing a kiss to your lips as he did. When finished he sat on the side of the bed; “Can i stay the night, or did you want me to go?”
“Have you got work tomorrow?”
“Nope. You?”
“Nope. Please, stay”
He quickly threw the flannel into the sink in the bathroom, before with a giggle climbed under the duvet and pulled you into his arms;
“So, how many more condom’s you got?”
-
The morning light broke softly through the trees that surrounded your cabin, your body sore but sated, knowing every bruise and ache came from soft lips, sharp teeth, or skilled fingers, apart from that one ache deep inside that you knew exactly what had caused that delicious soreness, and the owner and cause of all of it still softly slept in your bed. Climbing out you quickly used the bathroom, and as you came back into the room the artist in you couldn’t help but to admire how the dappled morning light cascaded over Henry’s body. Slipping his work t-shirt over your head you pulled your sketchbook from your backpack and settled onto the only chair in the room, quietly working carbon to paper.
Henry woke 45 minutes later, the gentle scratching of your art making him squint at the bright daylight, before laying back on the pillows with his arms spread;
“Still life class?”
Setting your sketchbook down you padded across the room and climbed onto the bed;
“Sorry, i couldn’t help myself… the way the sun was hitting the muscles of your back and shoulders, you were like an anatomy masterpiece”
With a laugh and moving much quicker than you thought he was possible of, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you, his body atop of yours;
“Well that’s enough of that, i would like to become better acquainted with your anatomy… and as we’ve both got the day off i suggest we make the most of it”
Laughing you fell into his embrace, sighing with happiness. Henry really was a keeper, as you were for sure not going to let him go. 
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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years
Text
Someone Blue//F.W.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader 
Warnings: Slight language, angst, a lot of confusion, fluffy ending
Summary: Fred spots a familiar face at his brother’s wedding, and has a sinking suspicion about why she’s acting so upset during this time of celebration. 
Prompts: Enemies to Lovers (kind of) and Weddings with the dialogue prompts “you look like you need a hug” and “did you need something?”
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: Day 1 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge 
Angelina looked absolutely ethereal, skin glowing in the shimmering lights as she glided across the grass as if it was a ballroom floor. Her white dress was slightly stained, mostly from when her now husband tackled her to the ground after their first kiss as a married couple, and yet it only made her seem all the more angelic. 
George’s feet seemed to never touch the ground. He was moving at record speeds, prancing and hopping and skipping around the dance floor, dragging his wife along with him. It was the most joyful Fred had ever seen him. 
Not when they left Hogwarts, not when they opened their shop, not even when Angelina said yes to the proposal could have compared to the happiness on George’s face. Nor Angelina’s. They were in a pure state of bliss. 
The rest of the wedding-goers seemed to match their energy. Fred couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with drunken laughs and horrid dancing, and the occasional congratulations or two from some tipsy guests who didn’t know that the man they were talking to wasn’t the groom. 
All in all, it was an amazing night. The field behind the burrow had become a traditional wedding venue for the growing Weasley children, so far hosting Bill, Percy, Ron, and now George’s days to remember. The tents and lights were all set up as they were with Bill and Fleur’s wedding, except this time there was no risk of Death Eaters ruining the event. Hopefully. 
However, while making his way around to talk to (and flirt with) the guests, Fred happened to notice one person who did not fit the overzealous tone. Well, he didn’t really happen to notice. Rather he’d been staring at her throughout the entire night, watching her somber mood break through her happy façade. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. 
You were standing by yourself, but you weren’t secluded from the action. Rather, you were right in the middle of things, on the very edge of the dance floor, staring out at the masses of bodies swinging their partners around. Your arms were crossed over your chest, a defensive position that Fred had seen so many times in you before. 
He turned away and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t any of his business if you were upset. The two of you were barely even friends anymore. You had cut him out of your life so many years ago and never looked back. To this day, Fred still didn’t know why, and it killed him. 
He wanted to walk away. To go the other direction toward a beautiful guest wearing a flowing red dress, hair done up perfectly. The stranger would be the smart choice. A fun way to spend the evening, dancing around and snogging under moonlit trees. But, against his better judgement, Fred’s heart wouldn't let him leave. 
Sighing, Fred lifted his feet and made his way in the other direction, to the girl who couldn’t care less about him. 
You stood unmoving, except for a subtle sway to the music. People brushed by you, but you paid them no mind. You were too focused on something else. As Fred drew nearer, he was able to follow your line of sight to the people in question. The newlyweds. 
Fred bristled before softening slightly. Of course. This must be about George. Back at Hogwarts, Fred was positive you had the biggest crush on his brother. You were always tagging along with their jokes, even when they got you into huge trouble. You definitely spent more time alone with George than Fred, sharing whispers and stares at the expense of the older twin. He could never get George to break and tell him what you two talked about. George even took you to the Yule Ball in your 6th year. You had never looked as radiant as you did that night, except for maybe this moment. Fred wished he had asked you to dance at the ball, but he never worked up the courage to. He didn’t want you to internally grimace at the thought of dancing with the “lesser” Weasley twin when George was right there. 
In his recollection of memories, Fred hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to you, and how you were no longer gazing at the couple dancing. You were now staring at him. 
“Did you need something?”
Fred was shaken out of his imagination, met with an annoyed glare but soft smile coming from you. His surprise was immediately replaced with his signature cocky grin, leaning his hand onto one of the wedding tables while keeping his gaze on you. Unfortunately, his hand accidentally dipped into a wine glass, but he quickly pulled it out and hoped you didn’t notice. You did. 
“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet one of your oldest friends, now is it?” Fred wiped his wine-covered hand on his suit pants and slipped it into his pocket, pretending to be unbothered by his previous mistake. 
You turned your eyes away from him, once again gluing them to the dance floor. “I think it’s fitting, seeing as how you were creepily staring at me for about 5 minutes before I said something.”
Fred’s ears grew pink at the accusation. “I, umm, I didn’t realize it was that long. Or that you noticed. Sorry.” He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to glance around at other guests who might interest him more. 
“You still haven’t answered me.”
Fred cocked his head to the side in question. 
“Why’d you come over here? Was there something you needed?”
“Ah, yes well,” Fred began smoothly, “I saw this darling beauty from across the tent and I just could not take my eyes off of her--”
“Fred,” you interrupted. You were looking at him again, your gaze piercing through him, forcing him to tell you the truth, to tell you everything about him. His fears, his hopes and dreams, what he had for breakfast this morning. He wanted to tell you it all. 
“The truth, please.”
Clearing his throat, and his mind of whatever thoughts just plagued him, Fred decided to be honest. You deserved that much. 
“You look like you need a hug,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. 
Evidently, those were not the words you were expecting to hear. You were prepared with about a dozen quips to say in response to whatever cocky joke Fred was about to make. But he didn’t, and nothing could have prepared you for what he did say. 
“I--I need a what?”
“Sorry, have you lost your hearing or was I not loud enough? It’s definitely not the second; you’ve told me on numerous occasions that I have the biggest mouth of anyone you know.”
There it was. But it still made you giggle, relaxing and gravitating closer to your companion. 
“I heard you,” you said, “just wasn’t expecting that from you, I guess.”
Fred took a half step closer, visibly glad when you didn’t move away. “Wasn’t expecting me to have noticed your behavior, or wasn’t expecting me to care if I did?”
It took you a few seconds to respond. “Both.”
He let out a sound of understanding before you both averted your eyes, looking straight ahead. Occasionally, Fred would try to look at you using his peripheral vision, and you would do the same. It became a kind of game--just an awkward back and forth between two people who used to be so close, and were now so far apart.
You game ended when one of the wedding guests decided to clink their glass, beginning a chorus of high pitched chimes to echo throughout the room. You watched as George turned to find Angelina, running to her to give her a kiss so full of love and passion that it took everything Fred had not to shout out a joke and ruin the moment. He could do that next time. 
He noticed you stiffen at the kiss, presumably because it was just another reminder of what you couldn’t have. George. 
“You know, I always wanted to be a Weasley.”
Fred was surprised that you had spoken to him, and even more surprised about the turn the conversation had taken. 
“I grew up with you guys,” you continued, not waiting for Fred to respond. “Molly was like my second mother, even though she always liked Hermione and Harry a bit more than me.”
“Join the club,” said Fred, causing you to laugh loudly, a sound he hadn’t heard from you in ages. Godric, how he had missed it.
“It’s just…” you trailed off, not knowing if you wanted to be open with Fred, someone you hadn’t spoken to in years. Chances were, you wouldn’t keep in touch much after the wedding, so you might as well. What was there to lose? “It’s just...seeing Angelina, one of my best friends, dance around, wearing that ring, getting to be an actual Weasley. It’s...it’s making me a wee bit jealous.”
Fred watched you fidget with a bracelet on your wrist and decided to push his luck just a bit more. “And you’re wishing that it could be you wearing the ring, married to a certain Weasley gentleman?”
The shock was evident in your expression. “No, no, it’s not--I mean I never…” Sighing, you decided to come clean. “Yeah, I’ve maybe been harboring feelings for a certain twin for, oh I don’t know, my entire life. No biggie though, it’s totally fine that he never asked me out.”
The ginger beside you threw an arm around your shoulder, handing you a glass of wine in the process. “Drink. It makes everything better.”
You glared at him, but took the glass anyways, chugging it down in a few large gulps. “Another, please,” you demanded, and Fred obliged. 
You started to ease into Fred’s side, as soft and comforting as you remembered it to be, before realizing exactly what it was you were doing. “Fred, can I ask you something?”
“‘Course. You can ask me anything.” The absolute last thing Fred wanted to be doing at the moment was talking about your undying love for his twin brother, at his wedding no less, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Not seeing you for so long had had a harsher effect on him than he thought, and he didn’t want to leave your side. 
Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years. The one that ate you from the inside out and kept you tossing and turning at night. The reason you had to separate yourself from your love in the first place. “Why am I not good enough?”
Your voice broke a tiny bit, but a lot less than you had been expecting. A tear did happen to slip out, and Fred quickly wiped it away, his fingertip resting on your cheek for a moment too long. 
“Y/N, love, come here.” Fred pulled you into that hug he had talked about earlier, holding you closely to his chest. If he thought you were going to appreciate the gesture, he was wrong. You pushed him away softly, refusing to let any more tears fall. 
“I’m serious, Fred. W-Why am I not good enough? I’ve made it clear for years and yet...nothing. And not even a simple rejection. I could’ve handled that, y’know. If I got a simple no, I could’ve handled it and moved on. But I never did, and it’s killing me. Why am I not good enough?”
It killed Fred to see you this upset, and it hurt him even more to see that the anger was directed at him and not at George. It was his brother that broke your heart after all, not him. “You are good enough!” Fred said, with enough truth and force that a little part of you believed it. “You’re, you’re too good! You’ve been by our side from the beginning and haven’t left it since. Well, we haven’t seen you in years, but that’s probably because of--”
You nodded, confirming what he thought. Your heartbreak had driven you away. 
“But other than that,” he continued, “you’ve been like my third arm. Any guy would be crazy to give you up, you know that?”
 A tiny smile grew on your face, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. “The timing...the timing was just all wrong, wasn’t it?” you asked. 
Fred nodded, watching his brother and his wife greet guests and take pictures that were sure to be on the mantle in the burrow as soon as the wedding was over. “Yeah, I guess so. The prick should’ve asked you out sooner.”
“Oh I agree wholeheartedly, he is a prick,” you said, poking his arm, a gesture that slightly confused him. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance of anything happening now? No sliver of hope that maybe this could work out?”
He hated that he would be the one to crush your dreams, but he couldn’t let you keep living in false hope. “Well,” he said, “the wedding bands are on and they both said ‘I do.’ Kind of hard to come back from that. I’m sorry.”
You froze, now more befuddled than you had been all night. “I...what?”
Before Fred could say anything you reached to grab his left hand, checking his ring finger for something you knew wasn’t there, but you had to be sure. 
“Wedding bands? What in the world do you--” Realization hit you like a brick, and you wanted to slap yourself. Or Fred. Either one. But preferably the latter. 
“Frederick, my dear love, who do you think we have been talking about this whole time?” you asked, voice genuine but also teasing. 
Fred didn’t know what you all of a sudden found so amusing, but he was already doubting himself and he didn’t want you to make fun of him for whatever he had done wrong. 
“Umm, well you said a Weasley, and then you said a Weasley twin. So I thought the answer was obvious.”
“Say it,” you demanded. “Who have we been talking about? Who am I in love with after years of unrequited feelings?”
He felt like he was walking into a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He hesitated for a few seconds before your searing gaze forced him to answer. “George. We’re talking about my brother George.”
No sooner had his words left his mouth than your hand came up to slap his head. “You idiot! Are you serious right now?”
Fred stood flabbergasted, racking his brain for who else you could have been talking about. George was a Weasley twin. You said you were in love with a Weasley twin. Who else was there?
“It’s you, you big oaf!”
Oh. OH! There were two Weasley twins, and he was one of them. Which meant…
“You’re in love with me?!”
By this point, heads were turned to watch the scene and people were not-so-subtly whispering to their partners. 
You dragged a still surprised Fred through the crowd and out of the tents, finding a secluded enough area where you could talk. 
Fred’s brain had still not been caught up. “It’s me? You’re in love with me? But, but what about George?”
You furrowed your brow, wondering how Fred could have so easily mistaken your feelings for him as those for another. “What about George?”
“You’re in love with him!”
“I most definitely am not!”
“The Yule Ball!” he spat out. “You went to the Yule Ball with him when we were 16!”
“Yes,” you said calmly, “and you went with Angelina, but I don’t see you two getting married. We went as friends and I talked to him about you the entire night. In fact, most of the time when we hung out I was talking about you. Made him swear not to tell though. I was never good about expressing my feelings.”
Fred put a hand to his head, a growing throb threatening to overtake his senses. “But why were you so sad tonight? You wanted to marry George!”
“No,” you said patiently. “I was sad because Angelina and George’s relationship worked out the way I was wishing one between you and I had. They fell in love during school, dated a few years later, and now she’s a part of your family. I wasn’t wishing it was just me out there with your brother. I was wishing that it was our wedding.”
You blushed heavily and buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your bluntness about your feelings. “Oh, Godric, I shouldn’t have said that, now it’s more awkward. I, umm, I should probably get going.”
Fred grabbed your wrist before you could leave, pulling you into his chest. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he gazed down at your muddled expression. 
“It’s me. I’m the one you love.”
He said it as more of a declaration rather than a question, but you could tell that he needed confirmation. 
“Of course, Freddie,” you said. “It’s always been you.”
His hand wasted no time in going to the back of your head, pulling your face into his and melding your lips together in your first kiss with Fred Weasley. After the shock wore off, you were hastily kissing him back, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t pull back and proclaim what a stupid mistake this all was. But he never did. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were the one who had to pull back in order to catch your breath. 
It took you both a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and for the first time you both were at a loss for words. “That was, umm…” you mumbled, trying to think of what to say. 
“I love you too.”
Fred’s words were rushed out of his mouth, voice deep ragged. “I mean, when you said it was me, not George, that you loved. I, well, I love you too. Always have. Guess I just thought that you had a thing for George and I had no chance. Pretty silly of me, huh?”
“Downright stupid of you,” you replied, giggling as he pushed you away with a bashful smile gracing his lips. 
“So,” he said quietly, inching closer to you once again, “is there a chance of anything happening now?” Fred repeated the words you had said earlier, making you smile wider than you had all night. 
“Depends,” you said. “Are you gonna get the courage to ask me out?”
Fred waited for a moment before answering. “How about,” he said, offering his arm out for you to link with yours, “we have that dance we never got at the Yule Ball. And then that date we never got after, and then that relationship we never got as well. Oh! And then that wedding, and then a dog, maybe a few kids, a big house in the country--”
“Woahhh, slow down buddy, you haven’t ever properly asked me!”
You took his arm and made your way back to where the music continued to blare and festivities raged on. 
“Y/N, love, may I have this dance?”
You pushed a strand of hair from his face, ruffling it up a little to give it that signature Fred Weasley style. 
“Of course, Freddie. And every dance after that.”
Tag List:
@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa
366 notes · View notes
whelvenwings · 4 years
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Up to Date?
Length: ~5k Tags: Canon Divergent, Y yo a ti Cas timeline, Misunderstandings
It's three months after Castiel was brought back from the Empty after confessing his love to Dean, and things are awkward between them. They haven't talked about it. Castiel can feel how much Dean wants to, but he won't let himself, and Castiel can only wait. But one night, with Castiel halfway across the world, he gets a text from Dean that might change everything - even if Dean didn't quite mean it to.
Castiel
It was just awkward. Castiel couldn’t deny it. Things between himself and Dean were definitely awkward.
Three months back on Earth, safe from the Empty with a little help from the Winchesters and from Jack – but Castiel and Dean still hadn’t talked about it. The things that Castiel had said – and what Dean had said in return.
I love you. Me too, Cas.
Castiel knew he should have expected this, the awkwardness. Hadn’t he known Dean long enough, at this point, to be able to predict him? And there was nothing more predictable than Dean not wanting to talk about something.
Still, it hurt. There had been that shining moment of happiness, if a word as soft as happiness was even the right way to describe the feeling of absolute blazing corrosive joy that Castiel had felt when Dean had told him that his feelings were reciprocated. And now, there was just… silence.
It was awkward.
And Castiel didn’t know what to do. Was Dean waiting for him to say something? But Castiel had already said it all. It was Dean who’d only managed to choke out a few words, Dean who must have more to say. And yet he said nothing. Days were slipping past full of staring and loaded sentences and quietness.
The fact that it was all so familiar didn’t make it any better. Castiel wanted something different. It had been different before they’d said anything out loud, but – but there had been something about hearing Dean say those words, me too, Cas, that had changed everything.
He didn’t need much. Nothing grand or unusual, only something to ease the tension. Even if it was just an expression on Dean’s face that acknowledged what had passed between them, instead of pushing it away.
But Dean… Castiel knew it was different for him. There were things that Dean didn’t allow himself, for a tangle of reasons that Castiel only barely understood. Dean didn’t let himself touch. Dean didn’t let himself speak. Dean didn’t let himself look.
But Dean wanted to.
Castiel knew Dean wanted to. So many aching years that Dean had longed for him, and Castiel had been able to feel it like a prayer – and not some soft and murmured thing, a prayer of an older kind, something raw and wordless and desperate. Something on its knees. Castiel could feel the yearning in Dean. It would have been so simple for Castiel to offer touch, but Dean hadn’t ever really let him. And Dean still wasn’t letting him.
And Castiel could still feel the longing.
When they were together, and when they were several thousand miles apart, too. It was there. Never any quieter or gentler, not even from far away. It always touched the same place in Castiel’s grace that it had done from the start. And the feeling of it was just the same, too, like being doused in oil and dropped into flames that reached and hoped and hungered.
Beautiful fire. A beautiful prayer. Castiel wanted to answer it. Dean behaved as though he didn’t know it was there.
The tension in the bunker had become too much, last night, and Castiel had abruptly left with just a quick text to Dean.
> I’m going to look for the artifact Sam read about in Seoul. It shouldn’t be left unguarded.
The artifact was probably just a trinket, if Castiel was being honest with himself, and its significance paled in comparison to everything they’d been through, but it was a reason to get away from everything and give himself a break. It would have only taken Castiel moments to find the artifact if he’d wanted, but he drew it out. He walked rather than flying, pacing the streets of Seoul, following up on the leads that Sam had found. His grace hummed and sighed against Dean’s prayer.
He hoped that when he returned, something might be different. That he and Dean could talk. Maybe even – as he walked down a side-street with neon lights that glowed through the drizzling rain, Castiel allowed himself a wry little smile. Maybe even do something together. Go somewhere. Go on a date.
A date. To a human the word would probably sound little, and normal, and silly for an angel to be thinking about. But to Castiel, it just sounded like something new.
And it was so easy, somehow, to picture Dean coming into the bunker's kitchen, pointing at Castiel semi-aggressively, and saying, so. You, me, date. Up for it?
Would that be how Dean would phrase it? Castiel tried it a few different ways in his head. Down for it? How about it? You in? Each time, the Dean in Castiel's mind looked almost angry as he waited for an answer. Each time, Dean's face softened when Castiel said, yes.
So easy to imagine. So out of reach. Castiel walked on through Seoul, the rain starting to thrum down harder.
–––––
Dean
It was awkward.
Dean knew it was awkward, and he wasn’t thinking about it – he wasn’t. Except when Cas did stupid shit like ditching the bunker without warning, leaving just some handwritten note like a kid sneaking out of his tent at summer camp, it made it kind of harder to ignore.
Staring down at the note in the bunker’s library, Dean pressed his lips together and read it over again, his eyes scanning the words while his brain paid no attention to them, lost in thought.
There was something so ridiculous about it all. The moment between them, the – whatever it had been, when they’d admitted their crap to each other – it felt so overblown to look back on. Sure, Cas had had to summon the Empty, he’d had to get all deep just to save Dean’s hide. But Dean… what he’d said had just been stupid. No point to it. Dean cringed when he thought about it.
Me too, Cas.
The words were so little like something Dean would ever say that they might as well have been in a foreign language. Me too, Cas? That kind of thing didn’t have to be said. Because obviously, him too. But what were they supposed to do about it? Buy each other flowers? Feed each other chocolates? God forbid – hold hands?
Dean felt a little hot rush in his chest just thinking about it, and an accompanying stab of guilt. What were they, seventeen? They were old. Too old for flowers and chocolates. Too old for holding hands. And too old for this weird tension between them, Jesus. Who got nervous and tongue-tied and awkward around a crush at Dean’s age?
Who called it a crush at Dean’s age?
Dean, sat in the library at the bunker, dropped the note Cas had left and picked up his phone. Practicalities. Just focus on the practicalities. He should at least make sure Sam had kept Cas up to date with the latest research about the artifact that might be hidden in Seoul.
Dean tapped on the screen of his phone for a few seconds, holding it a little further away from his eyes than he used to have to do. He read over what he’d typed once, and then hit send.
–––––
Castiel
Castiel’s phone hummed.
With a little clench in his gut, Castiel stepped under the cover of a dark doorway to get out of the rain, and pulled it out of his pocket. Dean’s name was on the screen, obviously. There was the usual leap of excitement, tinged with a familiar sinking feeling in his chest. Dean would probably be angry with him for leaving.
With a stoic line to his jaw, Castiel opened the text, knowing it couldn’t be anything good.
> So. You up to date?
Castiel stared down at his phone.
No… no. He couldn’t have read that right. He blinked, and tried it again.
It still said the same thing.
You up to date?
Dean had just asked Castiel if he was… up to date? If he… wanted to date?
However many times Castiel reread the text, it said the same thing. Castiel stood absolutely still, his eyes puzzling out the letters of Dean’s message again and again.
It was – it was just the way Castiel had imagined it, if not word perfect. The brusque tone, the question. Castiel, half in shadow in a porch in rainy Seoul, stared down at his phone as if it had just promised him the moon.
Dean had just asked Castiel if he was up for dating.
Via text. Obviously. Maybe all this time, it had just been that trying to talk face-to-face had been too much. Maybe Castiel should have left for halfway across the world months ago.
Castiel could feel his heart pounding. He couldn’t stop himself reading Dean’s question, over and over again.
–––––
Dean
When the text from Cas finally came back, Dean snatched up his phone. It wasn’t that he’d been sitting and staring at it, waiting for a reply – he’d just got a little lost in thought, was all, wondering where Cas was and why he wasn’t answering sooner.
The text, though, when Dean read it, put a frown on his face.
> I’m so glad you asked. Yes, I would love to.
Wait. What? Dean checked over what he’d said himself in his first text, just to be sure he hadn’t made some kind of a typo. Nope, he’d definitely just asked if Cas was up to date with the artifact.
So, Cas would love to… what?
Cas was glad he’d asked about what?
None of it sounded like the answer to a simple question about research on an artifact, at all. Maybe Cas was just in the middle of something, and misread Dean’s text. Not something that had ever happened before, but still. Whatever.
Dean circled his thumbs over the keyboard on his screen, and then typed a reply.
< Love to do what
Keep it simple, he figured.
He sat puzzling over Cas’ first message as he waited for a reply. So glad you asked. What did that even mean? Was Cas ever particularly glad when Dean asked anything?
The reply came back quickly, this time.
> Anything you want to do. :) Maybe just going to a bar?
Dean squinted down at his phone.
Anything he wanted to do about what? A bar?
Was he losing it? Dean reread the text over and then over again, and looked back up their conversation to try to make Cas’ reply make sense. The emoticon was typical enough, even though Dean hadn’t seen a smiley one in a while. The way it made his chest squeeze was ridiculous. It was just a smile. And it just followed the words, anything you want to do.
Before he could let his mind run too far with what exactly that could mean, Dean texted back in confusion,
< You want to go to a bar?
There was something about this conversation that was making his heart beat harder. Come on, he told it. What, you can face down the end of the world more than once and a little text conversation still has you like this?
Ignoring his solid logic, Dean’s heart only raced faster when Cas texted back,
> Yes, of course. Unless you think it’s a bad idea?
So… Cas wanted to go to a bar? With Dean?
That was – well, it wasn’t that strange on Dean’s personal spectrum of strange to not strange these days. Fighting Death and God and God’s sister and all the rest of it kind of put a bunch of other strange crap way down the list. But this was still… weird. Not bad weird, necessarily.
But how had they got here, why were they talking about this? What kind of a bar, why? Dean had just wanted to check up on Cas in a few brief words and suddenly they were making evening plans? Cas was making no sense. Was he doing it on purpose? Dean read the whole conversation over again, and pulled a face of utter and annoyed confusion for the benefit of no one, and shook his head.
He thought about it, and licked his lips, and shook his head again.
And then thought some more, and made a hand gesture, as if asking of no one, what the fuck.
He texted out,
< What do u mean
He stared down at the text for a second, and then deleted it, and tried instead,
< Why are we talking about this
He didn’t even read that one over again before deleting it. He made another face, and then quickly typed and sent,
< But you’re in Seoul
However they’d arrived at the idea of going to a bar, it didn’t particularly matter when Castiel was thousands of miles away. Had deliberately ditched, in fact, which was more of an obstacle to them having a nice evening out tonight than the distance between them, but Dean wasn’t going to say that directly.
> Only for a short while longer. I’ve almost completed the search for the artifact. Then I’ll come back :)
Another damn smiley face, another little lift in Dean’s chest. Look at him. Fully grown, and soft over the idea of his best friend looking forward to spending an evening together. Yikes.
Practicalities. Dean fired off another text.
< Okay... you just wanna talk or what
If Cas was going to try to insist that they talk about stuff, well – the drinks would probably be a good place to start, but Dean would need to psych himself up to the idea of trying to explain anything at all that had happened between them. Me too, Cas. He kept hearing himself say it and wanting to bury his head in his hands. What had he been thinking. What had Cas been thinking, when he’d decided on Dean. That had to earn the award for the worst fucking choice in the history of the world.
Dean’s phone buzzed in his hands.
> I think talking is what people usually do on a date. But we don’t have to if you don’t want to.
Dean’s eyes went wide.
–––––
Castiel
Across the world, in the porch in Seoul, Castiel watched as Dean’s little typing bubble with three dot dot dots appeared, and disappeared, and reappeared.
He tried to quiet the excitement in his chest, tried to remind himself that Dean had just implied fairly heavily that he wouldn’t want to talk on their date – which wasn’t unexpected for Dean, but it did leave Castiel wondering what else Dean might want to do.
A thought occurred to Castiel about something they might be able to do without talking, and he swallowed, and felt his hopes fly higher.
Or perhaps Dean just wanted to sit together in silence. That would be alright, too. Companionship in the quiet. When he thought about it, Castiel knew it would be more than enough just to sit by Dean in a bar and drink together, knowing that they were both choosing to be there. Even if they didn’t say a single word the whole evening, even if Dean didn’t so much as look at him the whole night. They could spend the date speechlessly. But it would be a date. It would be an acknowledgement. Maybe it would ease a little of the longing that Castiel felt and felt and felt from Dean, burning.
Finally, a text from Dean came in.
> Wait what
Wait, what?
Castiel felt his heart sink.
There was something wrong. That tone, just two stark words – something wasn’t right. Castiel scrolled back up their conversation. Had he accidentally said something rude? He couldn’t find it, reading the texts over and then over again. He’d used emoticons to show that he was happy. Had they seemed sarcastic?
Did it seem as though Castiel didn’t really want to go on a date? Or that he wouldn’t really be content for them to not talk on the date? Hurriedly, Castiel began typing again.
< I mean it. We don’t have to say anything. I just want to be there with you.
It was the kind of text that Castiel would ordinarily type out and then delete because it was too forthright, too emotional, too much for Dean – but this time, he just hit send before he could think about it. Worse than Dean being grossed out by Castiel openly having feelings was the idea of Dean not knowing that Castiel really did feel those things.
There was a long silence. Castiel stood still, waiting for Dean.
How many times had he stood, quiet, expectant, wanting Dean to be ready, hoping he would be ready, prepared to wait for an eternity until he was? In the span of Castiel’s own lifetime, he’d waited just a blink of an eye. But somehow this blink had been torturously slow. A torture Castiel would have fought to the death before trading.
Castiel’s phone hummed.
> You really want to go on a date
Castiel stared down at the screen. He couldn’t tell if the tone was judgemental or vulnerable. He blinked, and thought hard – and then, with a little shake of his head and hard press of his lips, he made a choice.
Quite suddenly, the street in Seoul was empty.
–––––
Dean
Dean almost fell out of his chair when Cas appeared opposite him in the bunker.
“Shit!” Dean swore, grabbing the table in front of him with one hand. He watched as Cas tilted his head just slightly sideways at Dean’s other hand, instinctively on the butt of his gun.
He eased his hold.
“Could’ve killed you,” Dean mumbled. Cas smiled wryly.
“You could have tried,” he said.
Dean swallowed. Right. Angel powers were all the way back up, these days.
“You’re back,” he said blankly, just to say something, because immediately leaving the room didn’t seem like it would be a good idea – however much the nervousness in his brain was insisting that this conversation wasn’t going to go well, and he needed to bail.
“Yes.” Cas lifted his phone up to face Dean, so that Dean could read their conversation on the screen. Dean glanced over it. It was strange seeing his own words on the left side of the screen, almost embarrassing. “What does this mean?” Cas asked.
Dean got to his feet, feeling too low down still in his chair.
“Uh…” He watched Cas warily, while trying to keep his tone light. “You tell me, Cas.”
“No,” Cas said firmly. “You asked me if I really wanted to go on a date.”
“Yeah,” Dean said.
Cas stared at him, clearly expecting more. Dean tried waiting him out for a few seconds in silence, hoping Cas would say something else, but Cas had that determined look in his eye that told Dean he was going to have to be the one to say something.
“What about it?” Dean said.
“What does the question mean?” Cas asked.
“Well, Cas, it’s kind of all right there. In the message.”
“You just asked if I really want to go on a date,” Cas said again.
“Yeah,” Dean said. “So, do you?”
It was all wrong. His tone was all wrong. It was aggressive, and blunt. He sounded outright angry at the idea that Cas might actually want to go on a date, and that tone didn’t even vaguely map over the ridiculous leap in his chest at the idea of a date together.
But somehow, Cas’ shoulders were dropping, and his face was relaxing, as though – as though that was what he’d been expecting to hear. Or even what he’d been hoping to hear.
“Yes,” Cas said.
Dean felt his mouth fall slightly open and his eyes go wide, and he looked away.
He could feel his breath suddenly coming a little short. He tried to stand very still and be very quiet so that Cas wouldn’t see what that one-word answer had meant. How much it had shaken Dean.
It was only when he heard the yes that he realised just how little he’d expected to ever hear it.
Cas wanted to date. The hot rush in Dean’s chest was back, and the accompanying punch of guilt readied itself… but held back. Because Cas had said yes.
He’d said yes.
“Is that a surprise?” Cas said, his tone dry but not unkind. Dean swallowed, and managed a smile when he looked back over.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Oh.” Cas looked confused. “But… I told you…”
“I know.” Dean shrugged. “I didn’t know if you’d wanna do any of that crap, though. Human stuff.”
He saw something clear on Cas’ face, as though something that had been weighing on him had suddenly been lifted.
“Ah,” he said. “Well… I do. Want to.”
Dean nodded, once, a little sharply. God, he had no idea how to do this. And it didn’t help that he could feel things moving inside him, shifting, like walls crumbling, like stuff he’d smothered finally elbowing its way up to be felt – a blazing feeling, a hurting feeling, a wanting. Somehow both familiar and terrifying.
“Okay,” Dean managed aloud.
“As long as you still want to,” Cas said.
Still? Had Dean ever actually told Cas that he wanted to go on a date? Maybe he’d just been that obvious. Or maybe Cas had actually been able to guess what Dean wanted from the way Dean had said me too, Cas, even though Dean hadn’t been able to guess what Cas wanted in spite of literally being told I love you.
“Do you?” Cas asked, when Dean was silent for a second too long.
That wanting feeling, that hot tense ache that almost had Dean’s teeth gritting against it at this point, it was demanding a yes. It was saying go, go over there, what are you waiting for now? But Dean swallowed it. He couldn’t just have that. He couldn’t. Could he?
“Well,” he said. “I dunno. I mean. We are kinda old for it. Aren’t we?”
Dean watched Castiel consider it, his heart thudding.
“I’m fairly old,” Castiel said, “yes. But I think I’m still allowed to try new things.”
“New things,” Dean echoed.
“Yes.”
“Like… dating.”
“Yes,” Castiel said. “If you want to.”
“And like…” Dean went to say something else, and then stipped himself. Too many things all rushing to the front at once. Too many possibilities. Too many things that he’d given up thinking he could ever have. Too many things he’d told himself it was right that he didn’t have, because it’d be embarrassing if he did.
But now, here was Castiel, standing in front of him and saying he wanted to go on a date. Watching Dean quietly, waiting for him to finish what he’d started to say.
“Like…” Dean said, and then stopped again, and shook his head. “I don’t know, Cas. I’m not… you know.”
“You don’t want to?” Castiel said, the question spoken so neutrally that Dean knew it came with effort – Castiel’s muscles had to be heaving with holding that door open for Dean to leave through, if he wanted. But Castiel was still holding the door. Still saying, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.
“No, I – yeah. I mean, I – yeah, I want to,” Dean said, saying the last part to the floor. His chest felt as though it was going to crack open. He wanted walk around the table between him and Cas, and drop to his knees, and just ask Cas with his eyes to touch him, anywhere, anyhow, gentle or not. “Just… I mean, look at us. Are we really gonna fit with any of that crap?”
He couldn’t imagine them trying to do the usual sweet romantic stuff. Dates and gifts and cards and flowers. So stupid after everything they’d been through, like sticking heart-shaped bows on the muzzles of two rusting guns.
“What kind of crap?” Castiel asked.
“You know. The whole schtick. Lovey-dovey crap.” Dean mumbled it, aware that even in describing it he sounded ridiculous. Lovey-dovey? Christ.
“I thought we could just try things out,” Castiel said. “And see if we can do them our way.”
“But what if it doesn’t work,” Dean said, making an attempt not to sound too wretched. He watched Castiel, waiting for him to give up, to say this was already too much work, that it wasn’t worth it, and they should just carry on going as they had been.
“Then we try something else,” Castiel said.
“Right,” Dean said, with an almost-laugh. “And we just do that over and over, huh.”
“If you’d like.”
“You’d seriously be okay with just keeping on trying forever?” He said it as if it were a joke.
“Yes,” Castiel said. “Of course.”
Dean went quiet. The expanse of the table between them was far, much too far. He stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded, because he didn’t know what else to do.
Cas saying that he’d keep trying forever was absurd. What was even more absurd was that Dean actually believed him. Cas had that look on his face, the one that allowed no argument, not angry or proud, just – sure. Certain.
If nothing they did together felt right, Cas would stick by him and keep trying new things. Forever.
Dean felt a part of himself breathe out, and with it went the last of the wall. Now Dean was immolating, standing still in the library of the bunker, just burning and burning with wanting to be touched by Cas, and –
As Dean watched, Cas’ jaw was tightening, as though he too were holding himself back against what he needed.
They stared at each other over the table. You first, Dean begged him silently. Please, just come here, just come here.
Cas’ blue eyes were locked with his, trying to say something Dean couldn’t hear.
“Cas,” Dean said, into the silence.
Cas watched him, waiting.
Dean’s mind was a blank. He didn’t know how to take this feeling, this all-encompassing burning wanting yearning feeling, and turn it into words. He didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted without accidentally putting it out of his own reach in the asking. He didn’t know how to want in the way that received, only in the way that was hopeless.
And Cas only looked at him and waited.
Dean opened his mouth.
“I don’t know,” he said. Cas’ expression flickered, but he didn’t move. “I – you – Cas, Jesus, I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“No,” Dean said quickly, immediately.
“Do you want me to stay here?”
“Yeah. I mean…” Dean swallowed. “No.”
Now Cas looked confused.
“Do you want me to…” Cas paused, puzzling it out. Dean watched him thinking, if I shouldn’t go, and I shouldn’t stay, then…?
“Cas,” Dean said, “come here.”
Cas blinked, and Dean watched the slope of his shoulders change, watched the way Cas’ eyes lightened with a sudden hope. He watched Cas take a step around the table, and then another, slowly, as though afraid to scare Dean off.
Dean couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. His hands were too big. He’d just asked Cas to come to him, and Cas was coming to him.
He couldn’t wait any longer. Dean moved, quickly, decisively, making for Cas as Cas came towards him, needing to be close and needing it now, and then – and then they were in front of each other in the bunker library, they were right in front of each other, standing with their hands by their sides and looking at each other. And all Dean could think as he looked at Cas was,
This is so heavy, it’s too much, it means too much.
And all Dean’s furiously thudding heart wanted was touch, anyway, no matter what it meant.
Cas reached up a hand, and gently – so gently – put it against Dean’s cheek.
Dean held his head up for a long moment, trying to keep himself together, keep it all in, be still, be silent. He gritted his teeth against the feeling in his chest, against the blazing of his happiness –
And then, he let go.
He closed his eyes, and breathed out. And leaned into the touch.
“I love you,” he heard Cas say.
“You shouldn’t.”
“I love you,” Cas said again, more determinedly, and Dean felt Cas’ forehead press to his own.
The touch of him was better than absolution. It was beautiful. It was perfect. Dean could feel the love of it running through him, easing the rusted gritty parts of him that had thought all this beyond him, and he wanted to gasp through the feeling of it like he was swimming through cold water. If he’d tried ten minutes ago to imagine Cas saying I love you to him again, Dean would have imagined it so sweet and unlike them. But this, this was happening. Cas’ forehead against Dean’s. Cas’ voice saying those words, I love you. And it felt real.
It felt like him, Dean, and it felt like Cas. This was who they were. This was how they loved each other.
“Me too,” Dean said. “Me too, Cas.”
He leaned forwards, and kissed Cas.
They didn’t go to the bar, in the end. They found they had enough to do without going out.
–––––
Dean
The next morning, in the kitchen, Dean turned to Cas and said casually,
“By the way, you never actually said. Are you up to date with the new research on the artifact? We should probably still try to find the damn thing.”
“Am I up to…”
Dean watched as Cas’ expression changed. It went from slight confusion, to sudden horror – and finally settled on a kind of dry acceptance.
“What?” Dean asked.
Cas came to stand by Dean, and because he could, Dean leaned forwards and kissed him again. His heart raced as he did it. Cas kissed him back, and Dean felt as though gravity probably shouldn’t be holding him down at this point.
“I, um,” Cas said. “When you texted me yesterday… I thought when you asked me that, you were asking me on a date.”
Dean’s brain took a second to catch up – and then he pressed his lips together to hold in a laugh. Cas tilted his head to one side.
“Don’t,” Cas said.
“I wouldn’t,” Dean said.
“Dean…”
“I’ll never mention it again.”
“I thought…” Cas closed his eyes, his head dropping as he smiled again at his own misunderstanding, and Dean let himself laugh. He reached out and put a hand on Cas’ shoulder, still a little tentative, still feeling his heart sing with the ability to touch. Cas leaned in, their bodies swaying together slightly.
“I love you,” Dean said, the words flowing up out of him like water from a spring, so easily, so naturally. He felt the immediate seize of panic afterwards, hearing those three words said in his own voice, out of his own mouth – but he couldn’t regret them, not when he saw Cas’ head lean back again, his blue eyes glowing with happiness.
“I love you,” Cas answered him. “I love you.”
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A Lesson In Mando’a [Din Djarin x Reader]
Title: A Lesson In Mando'a Summary: You'd been a bounty hunter most of your life; you were use to sleeping rough, fighting for your life, the harsh realities of life. What you weren't use to was the soft feelings of comfort, the warmth of a family. Warnings: Like one swear word I think ? Request: N/A
A/N: I posted this about half an hour ago, but it wasn’t showing up in the tags, so hopefully this one does! 
A/N 2: Let me know if you have any other Din or Star Wars requests!
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PART 1: A Lesson In Mando’a PART 2: A Lesson In Tradition PART 3: A Lesson In Touch
Din Djarin~A Lesson In Mando'a
Despite not fully understanding 'the Way', you had come to respect it. You particularly admired (almost envied) the beskar armour that came with it. It was certainly one of the better perks that came with being a Mandalorian. That, and the instant fear reaction most had whenever the Mandalorian walked into the room. Din (you had recently learned that was 'Mando's' real name) was quite a character as he strode into any cantina. He drew the attention of many patrons that occupied the bar, whether they chose to avert their eyes or stare at him. His shiny new beskar, along with the menacing helmet, was quite a sight to behold.
         And, yet, you found yourself -on more than one occasion- staring at the Mandalorian with admiration... Affection almost. You knew it wasn't allowed. It wasn't compatible with Din's lifestyle, nor yours; it didn't make any sense, logically. On the surface, you knew that, but deep down you longed for a connection with the Mandalorian, one that served as more than a business deal, or an alliance of convenience. For a while, you had tried to asses Din's feelings about you.
        At first, you were pretty sure he hated you: you did, after all, steal a bounty from him. It wasn't your fault that both your employer at the time and the guild he worked for had given you the same target, and it certainly wasn't your fault you were faster. As soon as you had caught the target, you were out of there: you knew of the Mandalorian's reputation, and you were smart enough to not want to fight him head to head. You didn't get to meet Din face to face until you had both been in the same town, both being hunting down by the Imps. You'd helped him escape them directly, and he'd offered you a lift in his ship, the Razor Crest. And, then you met his son... And, kind of never left.
        You'd intended just to leave as soon as you can, to be dropped off at the next planet. You didn't want to over stay your welcome; your companion didn't seem like the type to host company. Though, if you were being honest, you didn't think he'd be the type to have a child either. He was cute: the child. And, while you didn't have many parental feelings, you had to admit the little green gremlin was pulling on your heart strings.
        You sat in one of the chairs in the cock pit, with Din in the main front one flying. You suspected he'd put you there so he could keep an eye on you. And, while you couldn't blame him, you did start to feel tired. Did this ship even have beds? It didn't seem like a traditional living vehicle, definitely not built for comfort. Your eyes scanned around the cockpit, wondering if you could sneak down to the hull and take a nap there. While your eyes were wandering around, you spotted something out of the corner of your eye: the child. You smiled at him as he gazed a you. He turned his head slightly, his ears flopping to one side. The child looked curiously at you: you were a stranger, and you doubted he'd interacted with many people besides the Mandalorian. He seemed quite protective over the kid.
        Before you could realise what was happening, the child had wandered towards you and was reaching up at you. You hesitated for a second before picking him up. You didn't want to offend Din by over stepping any boundaries, but who could say no to those big, pleading eyes.
        You held him carefully, gently placing him in your lap, being mindful of how small he is.
        "He seems to like you," Din murmured.
        You jumped, a little bit startled; you'd be trapped in the moment, your eyes trained on the child. He smiled up at you, enjoying being held, and the feeling of warmth. You imagined your robes were much more comfortable than the beskar.
        "Huh, I'm usually not good with kids, but he is a cutie," you smile up at the Mandalorian, "Is this what you look like under the helmet?"
        You feel him tense up.
        "Sorry I didn't mean offense by it," you pause, pursing your lips.
        "No, its fine. Not too many people make jokes with me, that's all," he reassured.
        "Well, no offence, you don't seem like the joking type," you shrug, "Or, maybe, who knows: you might be laughing under there all the time and just nobody can tell."
        "Yeah, I'm the life of the party," Din dead panned.
        You chuckled a little, and although you didn't know it at the time, Din's heart skipped a beat. 'That was weird,' Din thought, 'That's never happened before...' He tried to bury it, hide the thought away, as he did with a lot of his emotions. This one, however, seemed to stick around.
        And, so did you.
        It had been a few months since you'd joined him. Originally, you offered to help on jobs, fix the ship, take care of the child, whatever he wanted- to repay him for stealing his bounty. Well, that's what you told yourself. Originally, you believed you were in his debt, but over time you grew more and more fond of his company- and the child of course. He was adorable, and he offered a light distraction from the chaos the universe seemed to be in. Not to mention, your growing affection for the Mandalorian was keeping you pleasantly occupied.
~~~
Din was off hunting a bounty. Usually, you'd go with him, but he had insisted it would be an easy job. Besides, you weren't going to fight him on this: you liked spending time with the kid, and it'd give you some time to catch up on your sleep. The Crest wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, and you always felt slightly on edge because the Mandalorian practically slept battle ready. It was the perfect excuse to have a rest day- those came few and far between.
        The Razor Crest was parked safely in a remote location, with all security measured engaged. You told yourself it would only be a small nap. Besides, the kid was tired too. You'd fed him recently, and he always napped after food. If he was tired, you might as well sleep beside him- for his comfort, of course.
        Originally, you were going to put him to bed in the little make shift cot Din had made for him, but you figured he'd be just as comfortable in your arms. You made your way up to the cock pit. It was nightfall, and the stars visible from this planet were quite a sight to behold. Gently, you held the child and began explaining to him all the different star constellations, and what they meant. You weren't sure he understood basic, but the way he looked up at you, and then to the stars, you figured he was understanding something.
        "And, this one," you pointed out a large cluster of stars, "Is called 'The Warrior', just like your daddy, little one. That one is 'The Queen,' and this one-"
        You stopped yourself. The kid had finally fallen asleep. You gently wrapped the blanket around both of you, and leaned back into the chair. Within a couple of minutes, your eyes had drooped, and sleep had overcome you. Before you completely drifted off, you had one thing on your mind: you hoped you would see your dear Mandalorian soon.
~~~
When the bounty hunter turned dad returned from his latest outing, he was tired. He threw the bounty into carbonite, and trudged further up the ship. It was only after he'd had a moment to breathe, that he realised there was no sign of you- or the child. His heart began to race. He opened the closet, praying to find the child inside a sleep.
        He didn't.
        Fuck. This was bad. He should've never left the child- what if he was hurt now? What if you were? Surely, you hadn't taken the child. You wouldn't do that to him... Would you?
        His last resort before tearing apart the place was to check the cock pit. Logically, he knew you could be up there, but you usually spent most of your time in the hull. That's where your bed was, where the food was, where the child usually played. That's where he thought you'd be.
        Din climbed up the ladder, keeping an eye out in case anything had happened to you or the child- in case it was a trap. Instead of any sign of the Imps, droids, or guild interference, he saw your sleeping body. In your arms, was the child. Din pulled himself up and landed as quietly as he could, so as to not disturb you. He watched you for a second; you looked so peaceful, and so well rested. He was envious. His eyes dropped down to the child; he was curled into your body, with his fingers gently wrapped around your thumb. He was softly snoring, almost purring as he slept. Din took one step forward, but his armour boot clanked against the floor a little too loudly. The child perked up; his ears flinched at the sound, and he woke up. When he saw it was Din, he cooed for him, and began to wriggle in your arms.
        The Mandalorian stepped forward, and reached for the kid. You began to wake as well.
        "D-Din?" you ask, eyes fluttering open, and when you registered it was him, you sat up, "You're back!"
        You then registered that the baby was trying to wiggle out of your grasp. Adjusting your grip on him, you lifted the child up and offered him over to Din.
        "Sorry little guy, did you want to go back to your daddy?" you asked, and the baby cooed in response, "Here you go."
        Din gently took the child from you and held him close.
        "How was it? An easy job?" you asked.
        He was lost in thought. About you, about the child, about his new found family. His heart had fluttered when you had called him daddy. Well, it wasn't technically you, but he felt it in his heart nonetheless. He had been feeling that a lot around you lately: especially when you held the child. It almost felt like he had... Like he had a family. Din hadn't known what that felt like for a long time. Sure, he had the fellow Mandalorians, but they offered no affection like you did. He didn't feel as warm around them as he did with you. He-
        You were still expecting answer. Your smile dazed him.
        "Yes it was, cyar'ika," he murmured, looking down at his son, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you missed my company"
        "Maybe," you smiled, "The child did at least."
        That was enough, for now.
        Din was about to turn around and go back down the hull, when you spoke up again.
        "Din, you keeping calling me... Ah, c-cyr-"
        "Cyar'ika?"
        "Yes, that!" you pause, "What does it mean?"
        "Oh that," Din could feel his face heat up behind the mask (which he was very thankful for at this moment, other wise he feared he'll die of embarrassment from the deep blush on his face), "I- Ur, it means... It's Mando'a for beloved."
        "Oh," you felt your face heat up, "I-"
        "-I can stop if it makes you feel uncomfortable-"
        "-No! No, I... I like it."
        It wasn't quite a full admission of your feelings, but for now... For now, you were happy. With Din, with the child: with your family.
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liz-allyn · 3 years
Text
shudder, part 3/6 [agent mobius x gn!reader]
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You're undercover on a mission with the team, and Mobius' affinity for cowboy culture is making things unexpectedly difficult.
Part 1 | Part 2
Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.
Words: 1.6k
Chapter Warnings/Tags: Language, period/canon-typical gun violence, cowboy!Mobius (valid as a warning), mutual pining, flirting, fluffy and fun, at least one naughty thought.
A/N: let me know how you feel about longer chapters!
III.
The next time it happened, it was 1881, and you looked ridiculous.
Your clothes were too tight and the leather smelled like the cattle you were wearing was still alive. You didn’t get to pick your uniform for this mission, and since you were supposed to be deep undercover in an active timeline scenario where reset charges were not permitted, wearing a TVA-issued “Variant” jacket wasn’t going to work.
So now here you were, sweating your ass off in what would one-day become the Las Vegas desert, with your partner wearing a giant 10 gallon hat holding a revolver to your back. He definitely looked ridiculous, and you let him know that. But to be fair, it was almost... cute. Sort of.
Variant T-3051 was the target, this stagecoach robbery at gunpoint was the trap, a Skrull artifact locked in a safe was the bait. And you were technically also bait, disguised as the hapless hostage.
Mobius laid it on extra thick for this one; you were pretty sure he was enjoying himself.
“Easy does it, fellas,” he said in a honeyed voice. “Everyone move nice and slow.” With one hand on your shoulder and one hand on the gun trained on your back, he urged you forward with a gentle double-squeeze near your collarbone. It was a little secret communication between you two. “Keep your hands up where I can see ‘em, sweet thing.”
You struggled not to overtly roll your eyes as you lifted your hands slightly higher. You were 99% sure that Mobius had never held a revolver in his life and probably didn’t know how to fire one. The man’s idea of excitement is debating top historical time periods at lunch with you or fantasizing about jet skis. Or whatever he fantasizes about.
You glanced at the team around you, a mix of Minutemen led by B-15 - on a giant ass horse holding a rifle steady with only her eyes visible behind a black bandana, and a band of outlaw civilians who were T-minus 9 minutes from their destined massacre. The mission, simply, was that one of these people was not like the others.
U-91, also dressed as a Frontierland cast member, barked an order to hand over the chest or else. While he was monologuing on about whatever “else” was, you were scanning the group carefully waiting for the Skrull variant to reveal himself. Or you were, until—
“Hey,” you heard Mobius softly whisper behind you. You glanced to the side without turning around as he leaned closer to you. “Nice work infiltrating the gang.”
You could feel the heat of his breath on the side of your neck, and your stomach was doing something odd because of it.
“Okay,” you whispered back, trying not to move your lips. “Now is an inappropriate time to—”
“Where did you learn to ride a horse like that?” he exclaimed under his breath. “That was incredible.”
You weren’t sure if it was the anxiety of the situation, the harsh sun off the surrounding mountain range, or his praise that was making your skin flush.
“Um,” you softly replied, taken aback that he was actually impressed, “I mean- my aunt used to have this pony ride business. They’d do birthday parties—”
U-91 snapped at you, the talkative hostage, “Hey! I said shut up!”
Mobius reared back his grip on your shoulder and suddenly you crashed back into his chest. You cried out as he wrapped his arms like a vise around you.
“That’s right, I said shut your trap!” he hissed at you, playing to the audience around him.
It wasn’t often that he got to play the bad guy, but he gave it a valiant effort. You could feel the (hopefully) unloaded barrel against your back. He brought his other hand up to your throat, firmly squeezing, pulling a gasp from you.
He leaned into your body, pulling you tightly against him, as he dripped sugar-coated poison in your ear. “Not another peep outta you, ya hear?”
The first thought that sprang through your head was remembering your kink for authoritative bad boys.
Uh-oh, was the second, third, and fourth thought in your mind.
Your core was tight and you realized how heavily you were breathing when his grip loosened slightly from your throat, slipping down just a tad. You felt the warmth of his hand and resting on the skin of your chest. B-15 was already giving orders, but your brain wasn’t following the conversation anymore.
“Are you okay?” Mobius breathed in your ear. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You slowly exhaled the heat of your breath, shaking your head ‘no’ and ‘yes’ for some reason. You could feel your pulse thrumming in your neck and you knew he could feel it too.
“Did I scare you?” he asked, inquisitively. You could hear the edge of a grin in his voice.
Your brow furrowed. “What?”
“Did I scare you just now?” Your eyes darted back to the group of outlaws as B-15 began to round them up. You were definitely supposed to be paying attention to the mission, but all you could think about was how heavy his hand was on your chest. He could curl you into himself if he wanted to.
If he wanted to, and if you wanted him to, he could keep playing cowboy outlaws. He could steal you away from your bed in the middle of the night. Or maybe he could turn you in for a bounty and visit you while you’re locked in a jail cell, making you do favors for him in exchange for freedom…
Uh-oh.
He leaned in a little closer. You could feel the shadow of his lips at the nape of your neck. “I felt you shudder just now... Did you get scared?”
“No!” You replied, almost too loudly.
“Oh. Are you cold?”
“What? Why?”
“I mean, if you’re trembling and it’s not because you’re cold, and it’s not because you’re frightened, there must be some kind of reason, right?”
Your face was burning. You’re pretty sure it’s the sun. Heat stroke. You’re dying, probably, definitely, maybe.
You gritted your teeth. “Why. Are. We. Talking about this?!”
“It’s not me, is it?” he replied coolly, like taking a sip of bourbon and lemonade on a hot day. You could hear the smirk on his lips. “You’re not intimidated by me, are you?” His cast his eyes over your rosy cheek with a satisfied gaze. “Maybe I make you a little... nervous?”
“WHA’THUH HELL—?” A terrified twang rang out and you both were snatched out of the clouds. You looked up to see a green-faced cowboy, cow-Skrull? Skrull-boy? - hostile variant reach into the the side holster of one of his outlaw posse. As soon as the Skrull had his hands on his “partner’s” weapon, he shot his partner through the back, killing him (just a few minutes before his time).
Variant T-3051 was fast. As B-15 fired her rifle, he was already pulling another stunned outlaw in front of him as a shield. T-3051 raised his gun towards B-15 and fired towards her horse. The animal raised up on its hind legs, bucking her off.
“Take cover!” Mobius ordered, pulling you down with him, but there wasn’t much around.
T-3051 fired a shot blindly, striking U-91 in the arm. He dropped to the ground and crawled in a one-arm dash for cover.
In the chaotic confusion and fear, the other outlaws drew their weapons and began to fire on the TVA team and each other.
The horse that B-15 was riding began to trot off, trampling a fleeing outlaw. B-15 struggled to grab her weapon off of the ground, but T-3051’s boot dropped down on the rifle, pinning it beneath his foot. She looked up to see the barrel of T-3051’s gun pointed at her, sights trained.
You had already grabbed the single-action revolver out of Mobius’ hand. He reached for you, but you leapt out of hiding with his gun raised high.
You shot the gun out of the variant’s hand before he could fire. Stunned, T-3051 dropped backwards onto the ground as the other handful of living outlaws turned their attention towards you. With one hand rapidly pulling back the hammer as the other hand steadied your aim and squeezed the trigger, you knocked them down like bowling pins.
A few shots later and it was over. T-3051 attempted to crawl towards the stagecoach, but B-15 leapt on his back and collared him. With a push of the button, he was frozen in time.
“Target acquired,” she stated into a radio, winded from the skirmish.
Mobius jogged towards U-91 as he pulled himself to his feet. He deftly inspected the Minuteman’s injury. “U-91 is injured,” he reported into his own communications device. “Alert the infirmary. B-15?”
“All clear,” she nodded.
Mobius’ eyes searched the area frantically until they rested on you. You walked up to the safe as B-15 retrieved the alien artifact - a twisty, metallic, (oddly) phallic-shaped thing.
You snorted. “This is the bomb that could rip a planet in half?” you asked incredulously.
If you didn’t know any better, you thought you saw the tiniest smile on B-15’s lips. She radioed in, “Artifact is secure.”
Grinning with an amused chuckle, you glanced over and spotted Mobius gazing at you proudly, watching the sun rise and set in your smile. You felt your cheeks flush, dropping your eyes to the ground and biting your lip. God, this was bad. He could not look at you like that.
“Incredible,” you heard him breathe.
Part 4
A/N: Did you like it? Reblog & let me know! Also seriously, I feel like my chapters are getting long. If that’s a bummer for anyone, please say so.
@aloyssia @generalhugzzz
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jjungkookislife · 3 years
Text
Secret ||PJM || Pt. 5: I’ll Be Good (M)
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pairing: sugar daddy!jimin x sugar baby!reader
genre: smut, angst, some fluff
wc: 5.1k
warnings: [not in order] cursing, mentions about mental health (depression and anxiety), loneliness, daddy!kink, pet names (baby, baby girl, babe, good girl, doll, love), alcohol use/mentions, spit kink, choking, nudes, oral sex, nipple play, marking (hickeys, bruising, biting), hair pulling, thigh riding mentions, unprotected sex, mention of birth control, jealousy, possessiveness, creampie
date: March 31, 2021
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The last thing Jimin wanted to be was stuck in a meeting with men who still didn’t trust him with the company, despite his great efforts. He made sure to keep his demeanor hard— frigid— refusing to allow them to see him as weak. It took a toll on him, a large heavy weight on his mental health, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that now because he had you to help him carry the burden.
You.
You were wonderful in his eyes. Smart, beautiful, funny, but that mouth of yours often got you in trouble. You liked to push his buttons, liked to rile him up to see how far he’d go. You were a brat at heart, but a princess at any other time when it suited you. He lov—he liked that about you.
Ever since he had first met you, he’d been drawn to you. He wasn’t sure if it was your smile, your laugh, or the way your eyes caught his at the bar of some party he couldn’t even remember the occasion of. You smiled at him, excusing yourself from the man that had been chatting you up. Jimin paid him no mind as you strutted toward him, head held high and your drink clasped in your perfectly manicured hand.
You were stunning. A true vision in your red dress that hugged your body just right. Your makeup was spectacular and as he eyed you shamelessly, you giggled. He knew he was gone then, more so when you smiled brightly at him, hand held out for him to bring to his lips to kiss as you told him your name.
Jimin repeated it, as sweet as a lullaby. Your hand remained in his after introducing himself, not wanting to let you fall through his fingers. He was the envy of every man in attendance that night, but a quick romp in the sheets wasn’t what he was looking for, and frankly, neither were you.
After the night of the party, Jimin contacted you. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of you, fantasizing about all the naughty things he’d like to do to you... if you’d let him. You were eager, a pawn in his hand, ready to bend at his whim… for compensation.
You were a sugar baby. And definitely not a new one. You knew your way around, knew your worth, and knew when someone just wasn’t going to pay up. But Jimin would. Of course he would. Companionship, sex, and a pretty face with a personality that drew him in, keeping him on his toes… what else could he want? 
Now, although Jimin didn’t date or had the time to, honestly. He got laid pretty often, if he so desired. He’d had his share of flings, some lasting longer than others, but they all took off when he wouldn’t commit. He had no desire to, not when he had first taken over the company and not in the present either.
Jimin liked his life easy. Liked to spend time with his friends, do his hobbies (tennis, skydiving, swimming, and fucking) whenever he damned well pleased. 
Loneliness did creep in. Lonely nights of tossing and turning in an empty penthouse with nobody to share it with. Those dark thoughts consuming him, calling him back to bed when there was work to be done.
He was tired of it. Tired of feeling lost and alone, carving a hole in him that his friends just couldn’t fill, despite their best efforts.
Easily, Jimin agreed to your terms. He’d spoil you rotten, absolutely rotten in exchange for your companionship and sex. He didn’t need a girlfriend, just someone who could act the part without the commitment; the jealousy. Someone to fill the hole in his chest.
Your affection and friendship came with a price tag and some other suitors, suitors Jimin paid you to disperse off. You had put a fight to keep them, but money talked and those other daddies walked.
Jimin had smirked, sitting beside you as you cut off all your other sugar daddies. Some confused, some enraged, and some asking if you were okay. 
When he was your only daddy left, you���d smiled smugly. You’d crossed one leg over the other, ignoring the way your dress rode up your thighs, a peek of your panties drawing Jimin’s eyes as you said, “I expect the same from you. No other babies, no other women, just me.”
“You can’t be serious?” Jimin had gasped, his pouty lips in a frown.
“How bad do you want me?” You’d asked, crossing your arms under your chest to draw his attention to your breasts. Jimin had gulped, eyes wide as he licked his lips. You were a temptress, a seductress who knew how to play the game, and Jimin was at your mercy. He was your pawn and with your hand reaching for his belt, he knew he was doomed.
And doomed he was from the very start. He fell into the role very easily, thrived in it and still did. You were wonderful. A ray of sunshine in his otherwise gloomy days. He wasn’t sure how he lived before you; he was sure he didn’t. You were everything he could have ever wanted in a person and so much more, and when his friends loved you as well, he was set.
His baby. 
You were his baby and he would take care of you in any way possible, not just financially. He had bought you cars, diamonds, vacations, clothes, iPads, cell phones. You named it; he bought it. All you had to do was send a link, a screenshot, or simply point to it before it was in your hands. The more he got to know you, the more he found caring about you, wanting nothing but your happiness. He didn’t understand what he was feeling, and he didn’t think he was ready to understand it, if he was honest. So, he suppressed his feelings and did what he did best; spoil you with materialistic items. If only he knew you wanted him, and not his gifts.
Jimin looked down at his shoes, concealing the smile that tugged on his lips at the thought of you. He carded a hand through his hair, forcing himself to pay attention as the dull voices wore on and on. Time couldn’t go fast enough as he daydreamed about you waiting in his bed when he eventually got home tonight. 
It was the weekend. Maybe he could have you stay the night without you rushing out the door tomorrow morning. He liked when you stayed over, liked having you in his arms all night and being buried between your thighs in the morning.
Why were you consuming his thoughts like this? What kind of spell did you have him under? Recently he’d begun feeling… different around you. 
Jimin hadn’t been jealous since you cut off your other sugar daddies. He wanted you for himself and only himself. Mostly because it would be safer (no condoms and you were on the pill), but also, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else. You felt the same way, although you’d never admit it to his face. You’d rather choke.
Lately, these feelings—whatever they were—had made his head spin. He didn’t want to feel more. The thought alone sent him into a panic. But… he also didn’t want to end things. Could he be lying to himself? Sure. Most definitely, as his friends constantly reminded him. 
Feelings were dangerous. Feelings—especially one-sided—could cause the beautiful relationship you both had to crumble into smithereens. And then what would he have? Nothing. Not a damn thing if you weren’t in his life. He’d be lonely again. Miserable. A shell of a man like he was before he met you. 
Jimin would not go back to that. Not ever. He refused! And so with that, he buried his feelings deep in his chest, under lock and key. And nobody, not even you, was going to let them out.
“Mr. Park? Are there any issues you’d like to address or perhaps some questions?” One of the board members asked. Jimin looked at his assistant, “did you get all that?”
At the nod of her head, Jimin responded, “No, we’re all done here. I’ll see you next week. Dismissed.”
Jimin rose from his seat at the head of the table, passing by everyone to go out the door before they even had a chance to blink. His assistant was hot on his heels, with barely an inch of distance between them.
“Marissa?” Jimin stopped, his assistant halting in her tracks just before an impact could occur.
“Yes, Mr. Park?”
“Is anything on my agenda time sensitive? I’m suddenly feeling ill and would like to go home.”
Marissa looks at her tablet, scrolling through the rest of the afternoon. The sun would set within the hour, and Jimin’s most pressing meetings and appointments had been conducted earlier in the day.
“You have a call scheduled with your father. He says it concerns your brother.” Marissa informs him. Jimin rolls his eyes.  He knew that phone call could drag on, and frankly, he didn’t care to know what his younger brother was up to.
“Reschedule for next week. I’m sure he can wait,” Jimin waves his hand, popping into his office to grab his belongings before announcing his departure. Marissa calls the driver, alerting him of Mr. Park’s departure, and Jimin smirks as the doors of his private elevator shut.
It felt good to be the boss.
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Jimin sat back in his limo, growing more inpatient as the minutes ticked by. You’d already sent him some racy photos, each growing more and more risqué until you were down to just your panties, back arched and fingers dangerously close to slipping into your panties.
‘I’m waiting, daddy.’
Jimin cursed, biting his lip as his building finally came into view. He wanted to devour you in kisses, consume every bit of you until you were writhing beneath him, hands pinned above your head as your pretty eyes locked with his.
“We’ve arrived, sir.” The driver stares down at his boss, who is just staring down at his phone, finally noticing his door has been opened and his driver is waiting for him to get out. Jimin immediately locks his phone, stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket before getting out.
“Thank you,” he says as he walks past him and into his building, greeting the doorman as he gets into the elevator. He swears it’s dragging today, but it could be his eagerness to get to you, knowing you’re waiting for him in his bed in nothing but a pair of flimsy panties is torturous.
Jimin rushes inside his penthouse, “Baby, I’m home.”
“I’m in here,” you call back as Jimin heads down the hallway, a smirk on his lips as he opens his bedroom door.  
He bites his lip. You’re a vision. A true vision as you lie on his bed, a teasing smile on your lips.
“I missed you,” you say softly as Jimin walks further into his bedroom. His hand begins to loosen his tie as he kicks his shoes off, ignoring how they clatter on his bedroom floor.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, princess,” he apologizes as he climbs onto the bed and you get on your knees, crawling over to him.
“Really? Are you going to show me how sorry you are? I’ve been waiting such a long time, daddy. I almost had to take care of myself,” you pout, your hand tightening his tie, eyes hard. Jimin licks his lips, his hand wrapping around yours before he’s caressing your face.
“Is that so?” he asks, moving his hand to undo his tie. He holds the black silk in his hands, twining it as he looks at you, his eyes drawn to your bare breasts.
“Very. It’s not nice to keep me waiting,” you whisper as you inch closer, lips pressing a featherlight kiss to his neck. Jimin swallows thickly. You quickly work your way through the buttons of his shirt, untucking it from his black slacks. You push his jacket off his shoulders, letting it crumple on the floor.
Jimin raises a brow. You ignore it. Your lips are planting kisses on every inch of his neck, pushing his shirt down his arms. You feel his bicep, looking up at him with a grin before he’s pulling you to him. You gasp, your chest pressed against his as he threads his fingers in your hair to pull you into a deep passionate kiss that has you moaning into his lips.
“Jimin,” a sigh of his name has him grunting, eyes wild as he kisses you once again, pushing you onto your back. You giggle, loving how he sloppily kisses your face and neck.
“Jimin! Jimin!” you exclaim, giggles filling his bedroom as you look up at him. Jimin feels his heart skip a beat, cheeks tinted pink as he grins widely at you, “am I forgiven, princess?”
“If I say yes, will you stop slobbering on my face?” Jimin smirks, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing the sides. You gasp, moaning and melting under him. 
“Open,” you do as instructed, sticking your tongue out for him. So obedient. Such a good girl for him.
Jimin releases your throat, a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes as he squeezes your cheeks. He spits on your tongue, releasing you, “swallow.”
You do.
“Fuck,” Jimin curses, carding a hand through his hair. You stick your tongue out again for him, watching as he undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor carelessly. He straddles your hips, leaning in to kiss you, his tongue twining with yours. He grinds down on you, swallowing the dulcet moans that escape you as your hands weave in his hair, tugging at the locks. Your hips meet his, feeling his erection with every roll of your hips. Your panties are soaked, utterly ruined as you beg him to touch you… to fuck you.
Jimin smirks, pressing a kiss to your kiss-swollen lips to silence you. His lips trail downward to your jaw, down to your neck where he nips and suckles at the sensitive skin as his hands cup your breast, thumbs circling your pert nipples before it’s his tongue swirling around them. Teeth gently nipping your nipple, your back arched into him as he palms himself over his slacks.
“Tell me,” Jimin starts as he rises, one hand palming his dick, the other kneading your breast. “What did you do while I was gone, doll?”
“N-nothing,” you answer honestly. Your body is heated, sweat beading at your hairline, thighs pressed together as your panties stick to you obscenely.
Jimin looks into your eyes, his hand moving over your chest. He can tell when you’re lying, having figured it out right from the start. Simple little tells: lack of eye contact, biting your lip and a racing heart.
Grinning, Jimin brushes his lips against yours, “good baby.” You preen at the praise, smiling bashfully before his hand is unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down as he climbs off of you to pull his pants down the rest of the way. He takes a second to remove his socks, knowing you don’t like them on during sex.
Jimin shoots you a knowing smile as you sit up on your elbow, hungrily admiring his body. He was sin incarnate. Perfectly sculpted from his strong shoulders and neck down to his thighs that you just loved to ride until you were nothing but a creamy mess. The thought makes you clench, licking your lips as you crawl toward him, getting off the bed. Jimin eyes you curiously, slightly amused when you drop to your knees in front of him.
You look up at him, resting your weight on your heels as you lean back. Jimin can’t resist you, running his thumb over your lips.
“So pretty,” he whispers, hand cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch, feeling soft and secure. Warmth overwhelms you as you maintain eye contact, swallowing thickly. “So, so pretty.”
“Jimin,” you whine, your hand resting on his. You look at his cock, licking your lips. It’s straining against his boxers, pre-cum staining the material; it makes your mouth water. “Please?”
Jimin knows he’s putty in your hands, that look alone is enough for him to buy you the world, hell maybe the universe. How can he ever say no to you, his princess?
“Sure, baby.” That’s all you need to hear as your tongue laps at his boxers. Jimin is surprised but his fingers thread in your hair regardless, tugging gently as a warning not to tease. He’s been hard since this afternoon and the last thing he wants to be is teased. He aches to feel the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him, your nose pressed to his pelvis. 
You tease the head of his cock through his boxers, earning a tug of your hair before you’re pulled back. Jimin’s heated gaze sends a tingle down your spine, “baby.”
A simple warning, one that has you pulsating as you lick your lips, hand reaching for the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down his muscular thighs before they pool at his feet and he kicks them away. 
A curse escapes him when your lips wrap around him, your tongue swirling around the head as your hand strokes him. Jimin groans at the feeling. He could never grow tired of you. 
Jimin caresses your face when you pause to look up at him, “so pretty.” You grow flustered, ignoring the way your cheek heat as you begin bobbing up and down instead, making him moan and groan instead of complimenting you. Your plan works, Jimin overcome by the pleasure your sweet lips provide as you suck harder, sloppier, gagging on his big thick cock, hoping your throat won’t get bruised once again. You didn’t want to go through that embarrassment at the dentist again.
“That’s it, baby. Fuck,” Jimin grunts, your name spilling from his lips as he tugs on your hair, guiding you and setting the pace. “You’re so pretty when you’re choking on my dick. So good for me.”
You deep throat him, loving the sinful sounds that tumble from his pretty lips. His head lolls back, eyes fluttering shut as utter bliss crosses his ethereal features. Moans of your name, curses, grunts, and praises escape his lips as he praises you to the high heavens as his cock sits heavy on your cock, lips sucking the soul out of him.
A whine falls from your lips when you’re tugged off his cock by your hair, your adorable confused gaze meeting his cocky one. 
“Up,” he commands as you rise to your feet. He kisses you, his tongue meeting yours as you grip his biceps to hold your balance as he kisses you passionately. Arousal pools deep in your abdomen, body fueled with lust.
“Daddy, please.” Jimin chuckles, kissing his way to the column of your throat, nipping at the skin. A moan of his name rolls off your tongue as he wraps your legs around his waist to take you to his bed. 
Jimin sets you down with care, having you lie back as he climbs over you. His lips brush against yours, a featherlight kiss that has butterflies fluttering in your tummy. His hand cups your face, saying nothing as he admires your body. You were aroused, panting and aching for him. Nobody else. Just Jimin. 
The soft look you give him is what sends him over the edge, kissing you roughly as he holds you tight. Maybe… just maybe, you could love him. Love him the way he’d deny loving you. You were everything for him, but was he to you? He didn’t want to think about it right now, not when you were wet, ready, and his cock was throbbing, leaking pre-cum.
“Jimin…” your hand cups his cheek, his dark eyes flitting to yours. 
God, he loved you.
“Please,” you whisper as your hand moves down to his neck and then his chest. Jimin swallows thickly, nodding as he takes your hand in his, fingers laced together as he pins it by your head, earning a gasp from your pretty lips.
With one last squeeze of your hand and fleeting kiss to your lips, he moves down your body. He wants to mark you as his, leave love-bites on your skin for the world to see but he resists if he wants to keep his plans for tomorrow.
Jimin’s fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, tugging them down to suck a tiny mark on your hip. You roll your eyes, but you love the slight possessiveness.
“I’m yours,” you assure him regardless. It works. Jimin presses a kiss on the mark, gently tugging your panties down your thighs, you lift your hips to aid him. He tosses them over his shoulder to be forgotten.
His hands immediately grab your thighs, spreading them.
“Fuck, so wet for me. All for me,” Jimin licks his lips, looking up at you. You resist the urge to cover your face as he kisses his way up your thigh until he’s pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. A sigh escapes you, making him smirk before he’s diving right in. Your hands seek purchase in his sheets, fisting them as he works wonders on your cunt.
“J-Jimin,” you stutter, hand embedded in his thick locks, hips rising from the bed to chase after his tongue. His hand pushes you back onto the mattress while he continues to feast on you, one leg thrown over his shoulder as his fingers slip right in, curling and scissoring inside you. His tongue flicks your clit, swirling in circles before his lips are suckling it. 
You arch, crying out for him over and over again. Sweat beads between your brows, a sheen of sweat appearing on your body as you writhe beneath Jimin, wanting to crush his head between your thighs. 
Jimin looks up at you, watching as pleasure overwhelms you, his fiery tongue the source of all your curses and pleas. Your hands cup your breasts, rolling your hard nipples between your fingertips as you cry out, “Jimin… Daddy… I can’t!”
Your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Your skin is hot, flushed as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten before you cry out, “I’m coming! Fuck!”
Jimin doesn’t stop his ministrations, continuing as you fall over the edge. His name rolls off your tongue in a mantra, eyes squeezed shut and the sheets fisted in your hand once again as you arch your back. Jimin waits until you’ve fallen slack before he slips his fingers out of you, placing them in his mouth, tongue swirling around them as he sucks them clean.
“Feel good, princess?” Jimin asks, a smirk on his lips.
“Mmm,” you murmur, your eyes still closed as you try to regulate your breathing.
Jimin chuckles, “you good, love?”
“More than okay,” you answer, sitting up to crawl over to him until you’re straddling his lap. Jimin’s hands immediately grip your hips, your lips pressing against his. Your arms wrap around his neck, keeping him from going anywhere. 
Jimin buries his face into your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin as you line him up at your entrance, sinking on to him when he least expects it.
“Baby, fuck,” he grunts, his forehead falling onto your shoulder as you hold him close while he finally bottoms out. You bite your lip, groaning at the stretch that has your eyes fluttering shut, nails digging into his perfect muscular back.
Hesitantly, Jimin looks at you. Three words sit heavy on his tongue as you stroke his face, biting your lip as you roll your hips. Your eyes flutter shut, your hand falling to his shoulder, moans of his name filling the space between your bodies. 
“Y/n,” your name is a delicate whisper, his hold on you tightening, swallowing the heavy words instead. He kisses you, losing himself in you instead. Lust is easy, lust he can deal with. That’s all this is, he lies to himself once again as you ride him. 
You hold Jimin close, fingers threaded in his hair, tugging it to make him meet your gaze, “you always fuck me so good, baby. So, so good.”
“This tight cunt is all I can think about at work. You’re such a fucking distraction but coming home to you waiting on my bed wet and horny is so worth it,” Jimin kisses you, tongue pushing past your lips before he’s rolling you over so he’s on top.
“Jimin,” you moan, his thrusts hitting all the right spots. 
“On your knees, baby.” You do as you’re told, getting on your knees and arching perfectly for him. Jimin smacks your ass, mesmerized by the way it jiggles. He smacks it harder, your cry of his name making his cock throb in his hand as he strokes it before lining himself up at your entrance, grunting when the thick head of his cock is welcomed into your cunt.
“Fuck,” you curse, face in the pillow, turning your head to the side. Jimin grabs your arms, putting them behind your back, wrists crossed together as he holds them with one hand while he fucks into you. His head is thrown back, saccharine moans escaping him as you fuck back into him, moaning when his fingers rub at your clit.
“That’s it, baby girl. Fuck, you feel so good..” Jimin bites his bottom lip, a poor effort to try to muffle the moan that threatens to escape his pretty lips. His eyes roll back, overwhelmed by the warmth and wetness of your cunt. Your sweet moans fuel him, consume him as he pistons in and out of you to coax more of those dulcet moans from your lips. His hand moves to raise you, wrapping around your throat. Your eyes flutter shut, melting into his touch as he squeezes. 
“Jimin,” you rasp, overcome with pleasure as he continues to rub at your clit. You shutter, your hand wrapping around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. Jimin grunts, kissing your cheek as he grinds his hips into you, slamming them when you cry out that you’re close.
“Come for me, princess. Please,” his angelic voice has you pulsating, doing as he’s asked as you grip his wrist and come. Jimin moans, lips planting kisses on your shoulder before he’s biting down and coming with you.
“Jimin… Jimin!”
“Oh, fuck. That’s it, love. Come for daddy,” Jimin moans, eyes shut and lips parted as he moans your name repeatedly, filling you with cum until you’re unable to hold yourself up. Jimin chuckles, lying you on your back on his bed before he lies beside you.
“Fuck,” you giggle, pushing your hair out of your eyes as Jimin takes the chance to kiss your sweat beaded forehead. You grimace, “gross, I’m sweaty.”
“I don’t care, princess.” Jimin covers your face in kisses, making you laugh until you’re pressing your palms on his chest to push him away. 
“Jimin!” You squeal, kissing his cheek before cuddling up to his side. He kisses your temple, holding you for a few minutes before he’s pulling away from you to get you some water and lead you to the bathroom to help you get cleaned up.
You end up taking a quick shower, exchanging kisses and lingering touches before you’re wrapped up in a towel in his bedroom. You’ve brought your own clothes to sleep in, but you take one of Jimin’s baggy shirts instead, climbing into his bed while he puts on a pair of boxers.
“Go to sleep, baby. We’ve got plans tomorrow,” he tells you as you snuggle into your side of the bed, pulling the comforter up to your chest.
“Goodnight, Jimin.”
“Goodnight, princess.” Jimin whispers, caressing your cheek before you close your eyes. He watches you until he’s sure you’re asleep, hoping you can’t hear how loud his heart beats.
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The morning sunlight streams in through the cracks between the curtains, the light stirring Jimin awake. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes with his hands until all he can see is black dots before his eyesight settles once again. 
Beside him, you’re still sleeping, clutching the pillow to your chest. He sits up, admiring the serene look on your face as you snooze away beside him, so comfortable, stress free. 
Jimin’s heart thunders in his chest when you stir, rolling over and seeking out his hand with yours. He easily gives it to you, squeezing softly when you settle soundly. 
As the world outside begins to wake, he can’t help but want to stay in this bubble the two of you have created in his home. Nobody to bother you, nobody hounding you to do this or that. Nobody to disturb your utopia. 
Jimin caresses your face, his delicate touch makes you moan softly as his fingers push your hair out of your eyes. He stares at you freely, admiring your features. You were beautiful. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and it still baffled him how you’d agreed to this arrangement. He knew he couldn’t give you more, and on days like today, he desperately wished he could. But what would that get him? Get you? A broken heart and the loss of his best friend? He couldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t risk it. Money was easy. Money came and went, but you stayed regardless if money appeared in your account at the end of the day. That scared him.  Why would you stay?
“If we’re having a staring contest, you gotta wake me up first, Minie.” Your voice startles him, his hand hastily pulling away from your face as you sit up. He hopes you can’t see the pinkness in his cheeks or the embarrassed smile on his lips. 
“Way to ruin the moment,” he laughs, shaking his head, and your heart skips a beat when he gives you his radiant smile. 
“I didn’t know there was a moment to ruin, baby. I’ll close my eyes and you can keep staring at me,” you giggle, rolling over and shutting your eyes. Jimin settles behind you, draping his arm over your waist before you wiggle into him. 
“I hate you,” he jokes, kissing your temple. 
“Mhm, your cock is way too hard for you to lie about that,” you smirk, wiggling further into him. 
“Shh,” he chuckles deeply, kissing your cheek, moving your hair out of the way to kiss your neck. 
“Show me how much you hate me, Min,” you goad him, turning to face him. Your eyes lock on his and Jimin can’t help but fall for you even more. He wonders if it’s obvious to you like everyone else? He wouldn’t dare admit it out loud, not to himself and certainly not to you. You were destined to fail, and who was he to stand in the way of destiny?
“Lie back, princess. Let me get a taste of you.”
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justcourttee · 4 years
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could you do one where dami and mari are dating but they havent told the waynes yet and they keep seeing hints of their relationship (like clothes around the place, dami talking to on the phone and smiling, stuff like that) but they cant figure out whats happening!!!! the ice prince is softening and theyre like wtf!!!
I’m sorry, it’s a little different. I got carried away! I hope you still like it!
Tim is Like a Genius or Something..
It was official. Tim had lost it.
At least that was the sentiment the family shared as they watched him tumble down the rabbit hole that he had sprawled out across the dining room table.
“-and then he smiled at me. At me! That has never happened before, at least not a genuine one.” He paused to catch his breath, allowing his theory to sink in.
“Timmy, don’t you think you’re giving the boy too much credit?” Jason was the only one able to voice what they all were thinking, at least the one with the best chance of not getting their head torn off. “I mean, he has trouble communicating with his own gender and now you’re telling me he’s been able to woo his female lab partner?”
Tim slammed his hands on the table in frustration before sinking back into the chair he had started in. For weeks now he had been gathering evidence of his brother’s oddities and for weeks he had been haunted by a softer and friendlier Damian.
“Think about it guys, please!”
His pleads seemed to fall on deaf ears as one by one they left the table, each offering their own look of sympathy until he was the only one in the room. It wasn’t long until he himself had given up, collecting his pictures from the table, tearing them in half one by one.
Maybe Dick was right. His hallucinations were getting the better of him. After all, even if Damian was changing, it couldn’t be because of one girl, right?
Absolutely nobody in the world could wield enough power to reign in a demon such as him. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Tim had survived another week of hallucinations. He had tried sleeping more, laying off his coffee, and even cutting his hours back from Wayne Enterprises. But as he sat in the kitchen, going through his emails, his mind remained drowning in thoughts of his replacement.
“Timmy, do you know who this jacket belongs to? The ladies say it’s not theirs and if it’s one of Brucie’s night friends, I bet it’s worth thousands.”
Tim spared a glance from his laptop to where Jason stood in front of him, his fist clenched around a small black pullover. He had half the mind to wave him off when something pink flashed from the corner of his eye.
“Jason, let me see the jacket.”
Jason tossed it, his face cautious as if Tim were about to dart with his next paycheck, but it was the furthest thought in the younger Wayne’s mind.
“The girl that Damian is always bringing over, it belongs to her. His lab partner.”
“You mean Marinette? Damn, then I probably won’t make much off of it. Guess I’ll probably give it back next time I see her.”
Tim waited, his face showcasing the perplexion he felt as Jason seemed to walk away thoughtlessly. How he could come to the same conclusion that he did? How? It felt like it was so obvious.
“No.” His voice was firm, barely above a whisper as he shook off the thought, returning to his laptop. He agreed that he would drop it and that’s what he was going to do. “Marinette was just a nice girl trying to help out Damian and he probably views as some intriguing toy, yeah, that’s all.”
Besides, it was just one jacket and why would he want to damn the girl over one jacket.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . He should have damned her. That was the only thought that plagued his mind as he listened to the conversation at breakfast.
“Did you guys know that the Demon uses his phone during patrol?”
Bruce looked up from his paper, his face a mixture of disappointment and interest.
“Can you elaborate Dick? What do you mean by uses his phone?”
“Exactly that! We took a break on a roof in our sector and right as I was about to turn around to ask him where we should check next, he was answering a phone call! We sat on that roof for an hour because he said ‘he couldn’t hang up yet’.”
Tim nearly choked on his coffee as he slammed his mug into the table earning a glance from both the men.
“Richard, who was calling him?”
“Hmm? You know, I tried asking him but he waved me off instead.”
“You mean he didn’t try to tear your head off?” Tim watched in horror as Dick shook his head in denial, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Maybe he finally has a friend other than Jon!”
Bruce nodded as if the notion weren’t completely insane, his eyes returning the newspaper in his hands. Dick smiled, returning to his crossword as if there was nothing wrong with the world as if he didn’t drop the largest bombshell in history.
“This is so wrong, why can’t any of you see how wrong this is?”
Neither spared him a glance as they continued their morning routines with thoughtless giddy expressions.
At this point, Tim wasn’t sure he could drop it anymore. There was so much evidence piling up, so much pointing that Damian obviously liked the girl at least. Why was he the only one who could see that?
It was decided. The next time Marinette came over, he was confronting this once and for all.
.  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Tim waited and waited. Weeks passed between her last visit to the manor. Damian had left several times and random hours of the day, always giving him vague answers as to where he was going. It was as if the little demon read his mind and decided it was safer to meet her outside the manor.
He was so close to giving up when a truly diabolical thought crossed his mind. His smile was sinister as he approached Bruce’s office, his plan foolproof. He gave a slight knock on the door, two voices asking him to enter.
“Hey Bruce, Dick. I was just thinking the other day, we haven’t seen Marinette around lately. You both know that Damian is terrible at keeping up with his acquaintances. Maybe we should invite her for dinner one night! I mean, we all adore her, right? She is such a good influence for Damian too.”
It was like clockwork. Both Dick and Bruce jumped on the opportunity each pulling out their phones to let both kids know the details of when this dinner party would occur. As Tim left out the room, he couldn’t help the hysterical giggle that escaped from his lips. For good measure, he made sure to linger by Damian’s room, awaiting the reaction he was longing to hear. Surely enough, a soft ‘shit’ could be heard followed by heavy footsteps echoing as if he was pacing his room. It was the best sound Tim had heard in weeks.
Three agonizing days passed before Tim found himself waiting at the manor door to welcome Marinette into the manor. Damian had volunteered to bring her to the dining room himself, but Tim argued that it would be rude if not a single one of them were also there to greet her. In the end, Tim and Dick were volunteered to accompany one angry demon to see Marinette to the dining hall.
“Thank you so much for having me! I was surprised when I received a call from not just Damian, but you too Dick. I was under the impression that Damian hadn’t said anything yet.”
Damian’s face paled as his eyes darted to Dick’s as if Marinette said something damning. Tim caught onto immediately, his eyes also watching Dick’s face for any indication that he had realized the weight in her statement.
“Said anything? You mean about your friendship? Well, it’s impossible to pry anything from him, but we couldn’t let him keep you all to himself!”
In all of his blissful ignorance, he turned on his heel, dragging Marinette with him, chatting idly about whatever came to mind. Damian raced after him, his face a mixture of panic and hatred. It was a sight that warmed Tim to his core.
All dinner he watched as Damian stirred the conversation off Marinette only for someone to inevitably bring it right back. He relished in Damian nearly pulling his own hair out to ensure no one asked the question that Tim had been pressing for weeks now.
As the night drew to an end, Damian couldn’t rush her out of the manor fast enough. The doors slammed shut with a loud thud ricocheting through everyone’s ears.
“So, we’re in agreeance right?”
Tim turned his attention to where Jason leaned against the entryway, his lazy smirk building hope in the younger boy’s chest.
“Very much. They are definitely courting, or what is the phrase you call it now? Dating? Hangin’?” Bruce chuckled at his own joke before his gaze dropped to meet Tim’s. “It looks like we owe you an apology.”
Words never sounded more beautiful to Tim, he honestly felt like he might shed a tear. A heavy weight caused him to stumble as Dick threw himself onto Tim’s back.
“Tim is like a genius or something, right guys? I mean who would have ever guessed that Damian had a girlfriend! Hey, do you think they’ll get married? Does that mean at this point Damian is your best chance at getting grandkids?”
Tim dealt with the picking and jokes and the onslaught of fake apologies as they remained crowded in the entrance, waiting for Damian’s return. To him, none of it mattered as much as seeing his replacement’s face the minute they walked through the door.
After all, it was a large reward for a small price to pay. It all comes with being a genius.
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adarlingwrites · 4 years
Text
Muse
Summary:
You're a frustrated and starving artist, disillusioned with the world you move in. Transported to a new one, you unexpectedly find a muse.
Notes:
Last Boss/Artist!Reader. Protagonist is AFAB. Oneshot, explicit smut.
I just wanted to write something short, sweet, and self-indulgent because damn, I need a break. And um, our favorite tiger boy needs more love.
Your mind was in a dark place when everything changed.
No galleries had contacted you to put up your works there. Your art blog’s viewership is abysmal, all your commissions are still unfinished, and your bank account has dried up. Such is the life of the struggling young artist; no money, no connections, and no talent, as some may think.
Every piece brought from you is something you’re grateful for. Every like, share and comment you receive is something you treasure. And yet, when you see another artist garner more attention just because what they do is trendy, or because they have connections, you can’t stop the resentment from filling up your heart.
These days, your works can’t just speak for themselves. Art is becoming a game, a competition for who gets the most paintings bought from a show, or the most number of likes within a platform.
You hate the galleries. Most of the time, they’re boys’ clubs reserved for old, mediocre men whose swelling egos are easier to rile up than their dicks. They sell their paintings at ludicrous prices, market value inflated by the connections they have to the gallery and the pretentious bullshit they write in the descriptions.
You hate social media. You hate the algorithm, you hate how these online venues to share your work is geared in another’s favor. You’ve tried to play the game for so long, posting at peak hours and sharing your work shamelessly to your friends, but nothing seems to be working. 
You’re envious.
Envy is such an ugly thing.
Galleries rouse it within the small, unseen artist, whose talents are hidden due to their lack of privilege, their lack of name. Social media capitalizes on it, thriving on competition, the number game warping a person’s psyche and perception of their worth.
Curling up in a ball in your bed, you’ve contemplated countless times if playing the game is still worth it. You just can’t keep up anymore. Each stroke of your brush and glide of your pen had your soul weaved in them, and no one seems to appreciate that because it’s not something anyone can put a price tag on.
Sighing, you drag your feet to the convenience store to buy yourself dinner with what little money you have left.
Then you saw it, the fireworks.
Life turned upside down for you within the span of hours.
Weeks later, you’re in a place called the Beach and sitting as far away as possible from the pool, sketching away on your notebook, odd ends of paper sticking out from it. You’ve survived another harrowing game, and you’re trying to wind down with a nice sketch session.
In this world, there’s no galleries, no social media. There’s no people to impress or market yourself to; just survival. There’s no money to be earned to keep living in this world, just visa days. Days of worrying if anything you’d create is worthy of anyone’s attention is replaced by the need to keep forging forward. But still, to keep yourself sane, you carried around pencils and paper, drawing and sketching whatever your heart desired.
In this world, your art is just for your own consumption, entertainment, and respite. Instead of being the thing that kept you up at night, it became something that saved you from the madness of this world.
The blaring music stopped, sound abruptly cut off as the speakers crashed.
Aguni’s militants have arrived, it seems. Per the advice of another Beach resident, you’ve done your best to steer clear of them. Yet, you still couldn’t stop yourself from getting involved with one of them, the one with the tattoos on his face and all over his body.
The first time you saw him, you found his appearance striking. The facial tattoos he had made him look tiger-like, and the katana he carries around with him just adds to the dangerous air he had about him. The fact that he almost always wears his hood up and the fact that he barely speaks add to the mystery surrounding him.
You’ve learned that nobody, not even their chief, knows his true name. They just call him Last Boss, because he looks like the last boss of a videogame.
It started innocently enough. You sketched him on your notebook, tall and wiry stature contrasting with the flow of the loose clothing he wears. Then the sketches multiplied the more you saw him in the games, and in the Beach. You’ve drawn him wielding his sword and finishing an assailant off. You’ve drawn him squatting on the balcony railing, surveying the Beach during his patrols.
Last Boss had filled your sketchbook pages. He became your muse.
Maybe it’s because he stood out to you, or it’s the sheer, unapologetic boldness his tattoos have. Either way, you were intrigued by him. Sometimes, you swore he’d stare at you back, but as soon as you look at him again, he’s looking someplace else. The little game you played thrilled you, thighs rubbing together when you see him. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t have impure thoughts about him; you’ve wondered just how much of his skin is covered by tattoos.
And yet, neither of you had spoken a word to each other.
It was your little secret.
But not for long.
In the lobby, you were heading back to your room after dinner to rest when you ran into one of the militants. He barked at you to watch where you’re going, and stomped away. The collision sent your notebook flying, paper scattering across the floor. Scrambling to collect them all, you crawled to find every single piece, only to bump into someone’s shins.
It’s your muse, Last Boss, and he’s found a page of your sketchbook.
“I- um, that’s mine. Thank you picking it up, I’d like to have it-”
The words left you when you realize that he’s looking at your sketch of him.
His eyes flick to you.
“Back.”
You gulped, unsure of how he would react to it. Wordlessly, he gives you back the piece of paper, and you nod at him, proceeding to pick up the rest of the pages. Embarrassed, you hurry back to the room you’ve occupied, and shut the door. Not like it would make a difference; all the locks are superglued, but it still provided you some relief.
A warm bath would be nice. It’ll definitely help melt the stress of today away.
Stripping, you entered the bathroom, soaping and rinsing the grime away as the tub filled with water. The splashing echoed in the room, and the bass pounded outside as the party raged on, making you deaf to other sounds that might register in your ears under quieter conditions.
You get in the tub, warm water soothing your sore muscles from the Spade game you participated in earlier, and your eyelids flutter shut. Engulfed by warmth, you drift off to sleep.
After an unknown amount of time, you awaken abruptly to the sound of footsteps in your room.
Quiet as a ghost, you listened carefully. The footsteps stopped, and springs creaking as a weight sat down on your bed followed after. After that, you hear the gentle rustle of paper.
As quietly as possible, you get out of the tub, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around your torso. Pushing the door open as slow as possible, you peer out of the bathroom to see who’s the intruder, and what you saw made your heart jump to your throat.
Last Boss is sitting at the edge of your bed, peering at your sketchbook. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he thumbs through the pages of the hardbound notebook, enthralled by the strokes you made on the paper. There were self-portraits, landscapes, portraits of people, figure drawing, and of course, some of them had him as the subject. Engrossed by the art, he doesn’t notice you.
Taking off the bathroom slippers, you walk barefoot, stepping out of the bathroom as quietly as possible. You were making good progress, inching away from the door, but your foot landed on a piece of paper, and you slipped.
With a thud, you land on your ass on the floor. The tattooed militant stands up abruptly, drawing his sword.
“Oh God, please don’t hurt me,” you yelp, one hand holding the towel around your chest into place, the other shielding yourself from him.
He sees you, then he lowers the sword, and tucks it away. Last Boss walks over, and you screw your eyes shut, but there was no pain that followed. His wiry fingers grasped your forearm and helped you get up.
“Thank you,” you whispered, averting his gaze. He towered over you, almost a full foot taller. You move to retrieve your sketchbook on the bed, but he doesn’t let you go. Gaze finally meeting his, you found yourself disarmed by the intensity of his eyes.
“W-what do you need?” you ask him, the tremble in your voice apparent. You’re still gauging his reactions. So far, he hasn’t done anything to hurt you, but he’s a militant. They don’t exactly have a track record for being gentle.
“You’re good. But you drew my tattoos wrong,” he finally speaks.
Eyes wide, you didn’t know how to respond, blurting out something incoherent. Then, you try to compose yourself. “Sorry. I never had the chance to look at you up close.”
“Would you like to?”
Breath hitching in your throat, you nod. “Let me just get dressed,” you say to him, but he still doesn’t let you go, eyes boring into yours. Behind his tattoos are delicate, handsome features that knocked the air out of your lungs. What stood out the most are his lips, small and well-formed, looking too soft for a man as dangerous as him.
Then you understood what he wanted.
Because you want it too.
You let go of the towel, leaving yourself exposed. But he stands there, frozen, as if he didn’t expect things to go his way.
Leaning in, you kiss him, wet body pushing against him, soaking his clothes. It started slow, and sweet, but then you experimentally dart your tongue out, and he lets out a low growl, opening his mouth to receive you.
It was sloppy and inexperienced, but the kiss hit the spot. You feel the fire pooling in your belly, pleasure shooting up your spine.
Throwing caution to the wind, you put your arms around him and his movements become more desperate, kneading and squeezing at your naked flesh, pawing greedily at every inch of skin he can get his hands on.
You toss your sketchbook to the bedside table and you hop on, pulling Last Boss with you.
Straddling him, you grind your hips against his, and he’s already hard under his trousers, making you smile against his lips as you kiss him more. Your hands guided his to your ass, and you pushed your chest against his face. Last Boss eagerly buries his face between the soft mounds of your breasts, and proceeds to latch on a nipple, hard from the cool night air.
You let out a soft moan, hands cradling his neck as he assaulted you with his lips and mouth. He unlatches from the nipple, then proceeds to leave kisses all over your neck.
Then, he lies back, and he pulls you over him, his head between your thighs.
“Are you sure?” you ask him, a little bashful because of his view of your body.
He nods, and he proceeds to lick your folds, making you gasp in pleasure.“Aim for the nub,” you instruct him with a soft voice, and he does as he says, licking at your clit with abandon. You rode his face as he licked you, movements sloppy.
Soon, you were reaching your peak and you braced yourself against the headboard. Thighs quivering, you came with a cry, riding his face as you climaxed, tits bouncing as your body shook.
As you come down from your high, abruptly, Last Boss flips you over, and now you’re underneath him.
“Don’t you want me to return the favor?” you ask him, smirking.
“Next time. I want you now,” he half-whispers, half-growls. The hard member pressing against you tells you that he’s serious.
You nod at him, and he proceeds to unfasten his belt, hands shaking from nervousness, or excitement, you didn’t know. It’s probably both.
He went in with a single thrust and you can’t hold back the cry that bubbled in your throat. Fortunately for you, you were wet enough for it not to hurt, but it still caught you off guard. He was slender, but that length… it made your toes curl.
Erratic and inexperienced, you had to guide him with his thrusts, and soon, Last Boss finds a steady rhythm, those penetrating eyes looking deep into you as you brushed the tattoo on his cheek with your thumb. You hook one ankle over his shoulder, and moan as the new angle allowed him to penetrate you deeper. Last Boss bottoms out, and he groans, rutting deep inside you.
You raise another ankle and pull him closer, and he’s pressed flush against you, hips desperately pounding away. The tattooed militant pins your arms above you and kisses you, tongues sliding against each other as filthy noises of your fucking filled the room. You suck on his earlobe, and whispers filthy, filthy things in his ear.
“You know, I’d been thinking about this for a while now,” you whisper, and he tilts his head.
“I always imagined you breaking into my room and just fucking me raw until I’m a mess,” you continue, and it seemed to spur him on, thrusts becoming more frantic as the seconds passed. “I’d never thought I’d get lucky tonight. Fuck, Last Boss, use me as you wish, I’m all yours!”
Last Boss didn’t need to be told twice. He fucked you at a brutal pace, sharp hips colliding with the soft skin of your thighs, and with a broken cry, you cum once again, your walls milking his cock.
“Please, please, fill me with your cum!” you cry as he continued.
It drove him over the edge. Soon after, he follows, coming with a loud groan. His body collapses on you, and he gives you another kiss, still sloppy, but it almost felt tender, something you didn’t expect from the sword-wielding militant.
The tattooed man lies next to you, and you curl into him, tracing his tattoos with your fingers.
“Can I look at more of your sketchbook tomorrow morning?” he asks, voice low and drowsy.
You smile, looking up to him. “Sure.”
Just when you’re about to drift to sleep, he speaks again. “Takatora. My name is Takatora.”
Smiling, you kiss his cheek, and say your name in return. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Last Boss is your muse. His attention, both to your body and your creations, is all you need.
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beelsnack · 3 years
Text
Bad Influence - Beelsnack's 666 Follower Special!!
(Technically I'm over 666 - shoutout to the porn bots)
But seriously, holy shit, there's a lot of you. Thank you all so much for liking my stuff, and for interacting with me and sending me good vibes and all of that. I hope I can keep giving you guys quality work!!
And yes, I am a nerd and I consider 666 a milestone for a blog for a bunch of demons. No, I'm not sorry.
-----
Lucifer: He couldn’t help but wonder when the change had set in.
When the human first arrived in the Devildom, they had been humble and meek. If anyone complimented them, they deflected it with the mastery and resignation of someone who had been doing it for far longer than they should have. And if someone thanked them? You would think their entire world was dissolving around them.
But now?
He extended a gloved hand towards them as they descended the stairs. Tonight was one of the rare nights where they had the opportunity to be alone without one of his brothers tagging along, and they had been planning this date for nearly a week now. They slipped their hand in his without any of the hesitation they would have shown at first. They knew they deserved his reverence.
“You look radiant as always, my dear,” he curled his fingers around theirs as they reached the bottom step, bringing the backs of their knuckles to his lips. “Surely there is no star in the sky that could outshine you.”
They laughed - his theatrics always did amuse them. “You do have amazing taste, after all.”
He chuckled as well, guiding the two of them to the front door. “Of course. Do you think the Avatar of Pride would associate with anyone less than the best?”
“Definitely not,” the wind that came through the door when they opened it blew their hair away from their face, and Lucifer couldn’t help but preen at the fact that he had helped that quivering little animal grow into the proud swan that stood before him.
“Speaking of the best, where are we going for dinner?”
“Don’t worry, my dear,” he laughed as they made their way out into the night. “You deserve the world, and the world you shall get.”
“Unless ‘the world’ means a steak dinner, I’m not interested.”
Mammon: “Come on, don’t leave me hangin’ out here!”
The curtain covering the entrance to the changing room rustled, and Mammon heard a faint “Fine, fine, just give me a sec!” before it finally opened and out stepped the human.
Mammon always thought they looked good no matter what they were wearing, even if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. Actually, especially if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. But seeing them decked out in his fashion brand - one he had both designed and modeled - was definitely making him feel some type of way.
He let out a low whistle when they stopped in front of the chair he had seated himself in. The results of his own shopping spree were tucked haphazardly into a colorful assortment of bags at his feet, but the human had taken a bit longer than he did picking out their stuff. And damn, was he glad they did, because otherwise he wouldn’t get the chance to see them modeling his clothes.
It was a private fashion show, just for him.
The outfit itself was pretty simple. A black fitted tee beneath a cropped leather jacket, a pair of faded dark-blue skinny jeans, and a pair of black sneaks with a gold stripe going up the side. But the thing that brought the whole outfit together was the long necklace with a topaz pendent resting against their breastbone.
“Well?” they asked, giving him a spin before striking a pose before him. “What do you think?”
For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The human wearing his clothes...it was the next best thing to them walking around with “I Belong To Mammon” tattooed on their forehead.
“I, uh...I guess you...um,” he swallowed thickly. “Ya look alright, I guess.”
“That’s tsundere for ‘you look hot,’ right?” they grinned before spinning around to look in the mirror. “Man, this is a whole look! I have to have it!”
If this had been a few months ago, the human would have waffled back and forth about whether or not to buy anything. It didn’t matter how much they wanted something, it was almost like they just couldn’t do anything nice for themselves. There was being frugal, and then there was deprivation. Now, though, was completely different.
“I wonder if I should get some shades to go with?” they mumbled, looking themselves over in the mirror. “I think that would really pull it together, don’t you?”
“Just don’t go for the Ray Bans, it’s a fucking scam.”
Leviathan: "Come on, come on, come on…"
Very rarely was Levi the one watching someone else play games, unless it was a stream. And as mind-blowingly awesome it would be to watch the human stream one of his current faves, he definitely didn't want other people seeing how adorable they looked when they were focused.
They had come to him with absolute determination in their eyes, begging him to help them out. There were a limited amount of UR armor sets in the event, and they needed to get their hands on one. And, well, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't help them out?
(The fact that he already scored the armor is irrelevant.)
So, here they were, camped out in the pillow nest that they often made for themselves when gaming in his room, laser focused on the screen with Levi giving them guidance. The event level was brutal, but they were in the final hours, so it was crunch time.
"Okay, this boss is easy once you know the attack pattern. Four regular slashes, a jab, then you've got about five seconds to get behind a pillar before it uses the AOE."
"Gotcha."
Even then, it was a long battle, and they had used up most of their healing potions by the time the monster let out an anguished roar and disintegrated into a pile of bones. The human held their breath as they moved towards it to gather their loot.
"Yes!!"
They practically leaped out of the pillow nest in triumph. There, right on the top of the loot list in shimmering gold font, and the UR armor that they had been coveting.
"I got it! I got it!" they cheered. "Levi, I finally got it!"
"Hell yeah you did!" the two of them shared a crisp high five as the results of the campaign loaded on the screen. It was updating in real time, so they could watch as the final moments of the event ticked away.
Levi knew what they were looking for. Early on in the dungeon, another player had done them real dirty, sniping them from a few levels above and then taunting them over VC about how they would never get the armor now. So of course that only inspired the human to work harder, and here they were.
3...2...1
Event over. Quickly, the human scrolled up to the beginning of the list, checking the names of all the players who scored the armor.
Levi sat next to them, chewing his lip. What was that person's tag again? He didn't remember.
Suddenly, the human let out a snort that turned into a full-on giggle fit.
"They didn't get it!" they cackled like a hyena. "Serves them right, the jackass!"
Levi was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to laugh at the misfortune of others. But, he knew better than anyone that spite was a hell of a motivator. When they had first gotten themselves isekai’d into the Devildom, they had let demons walk all over them, Levi had personally witnessed a lower-level demon shove them out of the way to get a sandwich they had been reaching for, and the human just stood there and let them take it. But they had grown to be a little more selfish, and if they wanted something, they were taking it.
And maybe, just maybe, seeing them like that turned him on just a little bit.
Satan: "You want to come and say that to my face?"
Satan stood there in stunned silence as the human spun on their heel to look the demons right in the eyes. They had their back to him, so Satan couldn't see the look on their face, but whatever it was made the two lesser demons flinch.
"Hey, come on, Human, we were just joking."
"Yeah, no need to get all worked up."
They scoffed, and Satan knew them well enough to know that they were rolling their eyes. "Is that right? So you don't think I'm a...what was it? A fleshy meat sack who thinks they can get what they want by sleeping with the strongest demons in the Devildom?"
Another flinch. Satan chuckled to himself.. Did those morons really think they wouldn't hear them? Humans might not have super-heightened senses but they weren't deaf.
A small crowd had begun gathering around them, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn't every day one of the human exchange students squared up to a demon.
"You've got some nerve," the human drew themself up to their full height - which, admittedly, was laughable compared to most demons - and crossed their arms. "What do you think Lord Diavolo would do to demons who messed with his exchange students?"
"I believe there's a special spot in the Royal Torture Chambers for such demons," Satan came to stand next to them, and the other demons downright cowered. "If I recall correctly, there's an Iron Maiden down there."
"Ooh, cool!"
"Alright, we get it!" One of the demons cried, throwing their hands up defensively. "We're sorry!"
Satan opened his mouth to spit a curse at them, but the human beat him to it. "I've got Lord Diavolo on speed dial, so start running."
The two demons turned tail and booked it down the hallway, nearly crashing into Beelzebub as he turned the corner with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He stood frozen for a moment before he swallowed and turned to Satan and the human.
"Were those two bothering you guys?"
Satan cast a sideways look at the human before a wicked grin spread across his face.
"They took care of it."
Asmodeus: "Well, someone's feeling bold tonight."
The door had barely shut behind the two of them before the human was pressing Asmo against it, mouthing at his neck as their hands traveled down the front of his silk blouse. He shuddered gleefully as their breath ghosted against his ear lobe.
"I can't help it," they murmured, fingers skirting just beneath the hem of his shirt. "You looked so good out there."
"I look good all the time, darling," he hummed, reaching up to grab a fistful of hair to gently pry them away from his neck.
"You looked especially good," they huffed as he let go of their hair. "Dancing like that, I could barely wait until we got home."
"Aw, sweetheart, you should have come to join me." Asmo rolled his hips in an echo of the dancing he had been doing at the club, delighting when he felt them shiver against him. "We could have put on a show that would have captivated the whole Devildom."
"I don't think the staff would appreciate it."
"They would be too busy watching to care," Asmo giggled, diving down to capture their lips in a quick and dirty kiss. "Although I can't say I'm not thrilled to be getting a private show."
Beelzebub: “Man, this place has the best barbecue!”
Dinner dates were a pretty common thing for the two of them. Over the course of the human’s stay in the Devildom, the two of them had figured out which restaurants would put up with Beel’s appetite and which would visibly freeze when the Avatar of Gluttony entered the establishment. The Hellfire Barbecue was one of the good places, probably because Beel made sure to tip really well, and one time personally went into the kitchen to tip the chef. Or, well, he tried, anyway. He ended up giving the money to the human and told them to give it to the chef because he knew if he went in there he would devour everything. But the sentiment was still there.
Beel smiled down at the human as they wiped the barbecue sauce off of their face. “You finished all of it this time.”
“Huh?” they glanced at their plate. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I did.”
“You usually don’t.”
“I was really hungry, I guess.” they grinned sheepishly.
Beel distinctly remembered the human telling him that they always tried to save some food for later. Whether it was being resourceful or because they had a weird sense of shame around eating too much, Beel didn’t know, but he had never pressed in case it was a sensitive issue. But, seeing them indulge themselves and looking genuinely full and satisfied made him happy. And was probably his main motivation for taking them out to dinner so often.
Well, that and getting his own food.
“I like watching you eat.” Beel said, waving to the owner as he passed by.
“You...like watching me eat.” the human repeated, looking somewhat confused.
“You look so happy when you eat good food,” Beel smiled. “I like seeing you happy.”
Belphegor: Oh, how the tables have tabled.
“Come on, I don’t feel like dealing with Lucifer’s lectures today.” Belphie grumbled, tugging half-heartedly on the human’s arm that was flung around his waist. “We should get up soon.”
For all of his complaining, Belphie didn’t move. If anything, he snuggled down deeper into the bed. He loved when the human agreed to have a sleepover in the attic with him. They got uninterrupted cuddle and nap time, since nobody dared to come up to the attic except Beel. And Beel was almost always welcome to join the cuddle puddle.
“Five more minutes…” the human mumbled sleepily, burying their face into Belphie’s neck. The soft, contented sigh they let out tickled, and he squirmed a little.
“Aren’t you usually the one waking me up?” Belphie nuzzled his nose against their hair.
“But it’s comfy here,” they whined. “I don’t want to get up.”
“You just don’t want to do the presentation in class today.”
“Your point?”
Belphie laughed. “Can’t say I disagree.”
“I did all the hard work anyway,” they shrugged. “We’ll make Mammon give the report.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
The two of them settled back down into the nest of pillows. The human had almost drifted back to sleep when Belphie brought his nose down to theirs to nuzzle them together.
“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”
“You’re cute when you shut up and let me sleep.”
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