#i have a gift card that i just haven’t used but yeah. maybe if it fixes all the game crashing bugs at least?

[civilization-illstayrighthere]

So, tried out coral island, and it’s… kind of a fucking sham what constitutes a ‘1.0’ game to some companies. It’s not like this hasn’t plagued the industry since the earliest days of early access even being a concept but, man, thankfully i only did the trial and didn’t drop $30 on it. An extra shame too because I’m really hankering for a farming sim a la harvest moon / sdv, and I’ve heard such good things about it but… yeah if you’re on console especially don’t drop your hard-earned money on it.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

If it's not too much I have a request, reader loves to give things they craft to the others in the hotel. They spent hours learning how to crochet from Rosie so they could give Alastor a plushie that matched his theme. A few day after giving Alastor the plushie they find it in the trash, after that they stopped giving Alastor stuff and stopped interacting with him in general. Btw love your writing, your doing a really good job.

ummmmm yes, i totally can do this! the angst, and the dedication of the reader just to have alastor possibly throw it away. maybe some miscommunication tropes??? amazing. and thank you so much!!!

crafting was something that you always enjoyed doing and it was a way that you liked to help out the hotel. so whenever something needed to be created, you were the go to person.

this evolved into any gifts that you gave your friends were crafts you made especially for them. they were trinkets or things they could use or even just little knick knacks that reminded you of them. that is why when it had slipped that alastor’s birthday was a week away, you knew you had to create something perfect. spending a day really thinking about it, you decided that a crochet plush of alastor’s prized radio would be perfect.

you set off to rosie’s wanting to see if that was a good idea and knowing the overlord knew how to crochet like no other. after rosie completely fawned over the idea, you set off learning the pattern and redoing it many times, not wanting your gift to look like it was the first one you had done. so you perfected and when his birthday came, while he was broadcasting, you snuck into his room and placed the plush next to the chair near the entrance of the forest and quickly left. making sure to leave a card with it too.

a few days passed and you didn’t hear anything from alastor about the plush, which you didn’t think was too odd, but you began to worry that you overstepped a boundary when you delivered it to his room. you were fretting, pacing your room at night when you finally decided you’d just go talk to him.

you walked to his door and saw it open. peaking in you saw alastor leaning back in his chair listening to what sounded like some 60’s music, which surprised you. what caught your eye though was the plush that was in the trash. sitting right on top was the radio plush. you gasped and ran off, not wanting to even confront alastor.

the days were long as you proceeded to avoid alastor like the plague. where he was, you made sure you weren’t. and this worked well, until one night you were feeling very upset about what happened. so, over a drink you told angel and husk.

“he did what?” angel asked, shocked.

“it was in the trash.” you shrugged. “guess it wasn’t that good.”

“no. i’m sure it was amazing! i love the plush you did of fat nuggets and the one for my keys too.” angel assured you.

“i’m not trying to play devils advocate here, but i’m the one who takes out the trash, and i haven’t seen anything like that come from alastor’s room.” husk added.

“yeah! maybe he didn’t throw it away!” angel looked enthused.

“who threw what away?” alastor’s voice appeared as he materialized behind you. you groaned and hid your face.

“smiles, they gave you a plush of a radio for your birthday. you threw it away!” angel said, staring alastor down.

“i did no such thing!” alastor looked appalled. “where did you get that idea?”

“they saw it in the trash.” angel said pointing to you. alastor looked at you and tapped your shoulder, you lifted your head, your eyes meeting his. he raised his eye brow as if asking if this was true and you nodded.

“you hadn’t said anything to me about it so i thought you were angry i left it in your room. so, i went to check and you had your door open and i saw it in the trash.” you explain, voice devoid of emotion. alastor’s eyes widen in understanding.

“come with me.” he says holding out his arm. you look at angel and husk who shrug, so you hop off your seat and grab on to alastor’s arm. “now hold on.”

he shadow traveled you to his room where you appeared in front of his desk. you shook of the initial dizziness and then looked at his desk, seeing the plush. your eyes wide as you turn to him.

“you didn’t throw it away?” you ask.

“no, it was admittedly the first birthday gift i had received in a long time.” he said. you squealed letting excitement take you over as you hugged him.

“oh my gosh! thank you! thank you! thank you!” you cried as he awkwardly pet your head and your eyes widened as you dropped him and stepped back.

“sorry. i got a little too excited.” he hummed and looked at you.

“where did you learn to crochet like that?” he asks and you excitedly start talking about how you learned from rosie, he slid around you and sat down, listening to your story and process with a fond smile on his face.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 24)

Part 23

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

“Lean your head back, so I can rinse.” Y/N instructs Katniss, gently.

It’s been two weeks back in twelve. The Abernathy family, Katniss, Cashmere and Johanna. Peeta had to stay behind, not quite ready to be exposed to all the potential triggers of home.

Cashmere and Madge had no problem cozying up in the Abernathy home. However Katniss keeps to her own house in Victor’s Village and Johanna has agreed to stay in the house gifted to Y/N after her win. Finnick and Annie will visit too, of course. After the baby.

The girl on fire sits in the tub, knees pulled up to her chest, with both arms around them, as her former mentor washes her hair. Katniss can’t bring herself to do much these days. Rotting away on the couch, after Prim… But Y/N is nothing if not stubborn and loves Katniss more than her own mother ever could.

When Y/N is finished, she leaves Katniss to dry off. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

Katniss blinks at her, nodding. She does not speak.

Y/N returns to her own home, bustling with life. Nothing here is still. The victor dances past her oldest daughter, twirling about the living room to music. Moving carefully behind the house of cards that Everest and Cashmere are building on the dining table and into the kitchen.

Haymitch follows her there, Daisy in his arms. He hardly puts her down. “How is she?” Katniss.

Y/N sucks in a breath. “You should go see her, Haymitch. Maybe she’ll talk to you.”

“What makes you think she’ll talk to me?”

“Because you understand each other.” Y/N says, “I love her, she knows I do. But it’s not the same. She needs you.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Haymitch frowns, “if it sets her off? Makes it worse?”

“The last thing Katniss needs right now, is to feel like another person has abandoned her.” Like her mother. Like Gale. “Especially you. You don’t have to say anything, just be there.” Y/N wrings her hands, anxiously. “Please.”

Haymitch shakes his head, bouncing between feet, when Daisy begins to fuss. “The things I do for you.”

Y/N half smiles, “gimme the baby.”

At this he hesitates. It is hard enough being in a separate room from his children. Or not to holler in protest, each time Y/N moves out of his sight.

“Haymitch?” Y/N rests a hand against his back.

It’s not you, it’s me. “Here.” He forces a smile, passing off their child.

“Haymitch, what’s wrong?” Y/N wonders, adjusting the infant in her arms.

“Nothing.” He clears his throat, “it’s nothing.”

“But-”

“I love you.” Haymitch tells his wife, pecking a kiss to her lips, “nothing’s wrong.”

Y/N pulls back, slightly, studying him. “I love you too.”

He pats her cheek, in parting. Hurrying out the door, before Y/N can get a word in.

“You guys are disgusting.” Johanna remarks, leaning heavily against the refrigerator.

Y/N murmurs. “Yeah.”

“I’m out of eggs.” Johanna adds, to explain her presence.

“We have plenty. Help yourself.” Y/N waves toward the fridge.

“There’s something wrong with him.”

“I know.”

“What are you gonna do about it? You’re Mrs. Fix It. That’s why we’re all here. So you can fix us.” Johanna scoffs, “you can’t even fix yourself.”

“I can,” Y/N cuts her off. “I will.”

“You think I haven’t noticed there’s a room you can’t even go in?” Johanna continues.

“It’s not what you think.”

“I think you’re afraid of old hunks of metal that used to record you getting your rocks off.” Johanna crosses both arms over her chest. “They can’t hurt you.”

“They can hurt me.” Y/N purses her lips, “they did.”

“You should get rid of them.” Johanna suggests.

“I can’t.” I just can’t.

“My head doctor would call it ‘exposure therapy.’”

“Will you help me?”

Johanna huffs a laugh. “What are friends for?”

————————————————————————

That night, after the children are fast asleep, Y/N tosses and turns in bed.

“Just say it.” Haymitch snaps.

“It’s nothing.” Y/N whispers, “I’m sorry.” She turns away from Haymitch, nuzzling her back against his chest, until he has no choice but to wrap his arms around her.

“Angel,” Haymitch pauses, trying to find the right words. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?”

“Been free.” Haymitch confesses, “not since the games, never as an adult. Never as a husband or a father; and I am terrified that at any moment, all of this is going to be taken away from me.”

Y/N squeezes his hand, a bit tighter. “Sometimes I think that too.” We’ve been playing the game too long. “Do you think we’ll get used to it? Being free?”

Haymitch sighs, pressing his lips to her shoulder. “I hope so, angel.”

This is new. Haymitch having hope. “Me too.”

————————————————————————

Nights bleed into days. Days into weeks.

Daisy naps contently, in the sling against Y/N’s chest, while she tidies the kitchen.

Everest and Haymitch have set out to pluck weeds from the pathway between houses of Victor’s Village.

Arista is playing in the backyard.

The birds chirp.

The sun shines.

Then Arista screams. “Mommy!”

Y/N abandons the pan she is washing, into the sink, water still running, as she races toward the sound of her daughter’s voice. “Arista!”

“Mommy! Daddy! Hurry!”

Haymitch and Everest rush toward her cry. “Arista!”

Y/N finds her first, at the far edge of their yard, hunched over a mass of white feathers. “Arista? Are you ok?”

“He came back.” Arista tells her mother, with overjoyed tears in her eyes. “Louie came back.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Y/N chokes down the panic that has risen in her throat. “That’s wonderful.”

Everest comes to a stop beside his mother, panting as he takes in the scene before him. “She’s ok?”

“Yeah,” Y/N reaches a hand over, to ruffle his hair. “We’re all ok now.”

Haymitch joins them last, out of breath, face flushed. “Is everything-”

Y/N turns to him, with a grin. “Louie came home.”

“It’s just the goose.” Haymitch can’t help but laugh. “Just the god damn goose.”

————————————————————————

That night, at dinner, with Madge, Cashmere, Johanna and even Katniss, the phone rings. The sound of it still jarring, after being without a form of easy communication between districts for so long.

Maybe it’s Annie and Finnick.

Maybe there is news in the Capitol.

Maybe Effie.

“I’ll get it.” Johanna volunteers.

Y/N holds up a hand, not wanting to speak with a mouthful of food.

“Or not.”

“I’ve got it.” Y/N excuses herself from the table, into the hallway. Lifting the phone from the receiver to her ear; heart pounding. “Hello.”

“Y/N, it’s me.”

Her free hand comes up to her heart, attempting to quiet the ache. “Peeta, hi. How are you?”

“Better, I’m good.”

“That’s good, honey.” Y/N blinks back tears. “That’s so good to hear.”

“Dr. Aurelius says I’m free to leave the hospital, as long as I keep up with sessions over the phone.” He sounds nervous, like the other shoe is about to drop.

Maybe he’s staying with Effie in the Capitol.

“The train leaves tomorrow morning.”

“Can I- I’ll come get you from the train station?”

“Yes.” Peeta says, immediately. “That would be great.”

“Ok,” Y/N breathes, “that’s perfect. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21 @avoxrising @koiphisch @drwho-ess @daisydaisybilly @misfits1a @nj01 @eruannaaa-blog @thatkindofgurl @solikeapparently @innercreationflower @nicksolemnlyswears @a-sweet-little-fangirl @champomiel @kate654 @maladptivedreamer @rainbow12346 @gabwitch99-blog @theseerbetweenus @qvnthesia @prettybiching @izziebreeziel @anneliese500 @scoliobean @mariechristine00 @hoslunix @frstlght @winter-jensen

[asterias-record-shop]

oohhh maybe spencer reid for bingo with a sugar mommy with number 9 i feel like that’s fitting for him👀😳

-🦇

—𓆩[six months]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Sugar Baby! Spencer Reid x Sugar Mommy! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.8K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Spencer truly didn’t know he was a sugar baby until Derek told him. At first, he just thought your love language was gift giving, but then Derek made an extremely good point, and that made him think. Was he just a sugar baby to you, or was it something more, like he wanted it to be?

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || Spencer is adorably oblivious || Morgan and Garcia are literally goals, i love them so much- || you have texture issues because I have texture issues || set during season 11 before Morgan leaves but I’m imagining Spence in his prison look because it’s fine as fuck || kind of dom spencer and sub reader || oral || cum eating || 69 || subspace || begging || slight degradation || lots of praise!! || creampie || 

“Ah, pretty boy’s got that smile on his face!” Derek grinned as he passed by Spencer’s desk, the younger male quickly turning off his phone and setting it face down on the desk. “Is it her?”

“It actually-”

“Her? Who’s her?!” Emily was running over, Garcia right on her heels.

“She’s-”

“Beautiful!” Garcia filled in, peaking over Spencer’s shoulder. “Oh my god, she is so pretty!”

“Who is?” JJ walked over, sliding her phone into her back pocket as Spencer blushed, looking away. “Oh my god, does Spencer Reid have a girlfriend?”

“Hell yeah he does,” Derek laughed, leaning back in his chair. “What did you say her name was again, pretty boy?”

“Her name is Y/N, we’re planning on having a movie marathon tonight. Her pick was the How to Train Your Dragon movies, so we’re going to go to her house and watch them. Did you Chris Sanders and Dean DeBlois weren’t the original directors? The-”

Garcia giggled. “Does she sit through your little fact rants too?”

Spencer smiled, nodding. “I think she likes them, actually. A few nights ago, we went out to eat and Monte Cristos and-”

“Monte Cristos?” Rossi walked down the stairs, groaning. “Their pasta is to die for from there. I haven’t had the chance to meet the owner quite yet, but I’ve heard she’s a very kind and beautiful young lady.”

“Oh, yeah, Y/N is amazing!” Spencer smiled widely, Rossi smiling widely.

“Well I’ll be damned, our boy is dating a millionaire!” Rossi is laughing, walking over as Derek sits up.

“What do you mean, a millionaire?” 

“Guys, I have someone I want you to meet,” Hotch announces, clenching his hand out at them. “Now, please.”

“We’re getting back to your millionaire girlfriend in a minute, pretty boy.” JJ ruffled his hair making him basically pout, quickly sending you a text.

Spencer 11:43am

I need to go, the team and I have to meet someone. Can’t wait until tonight, I love you.

He slid his phone back into his pocket, humming as he stood and Garcia hooked arms with him. “Why did I not know you had a girlfriend, Spencer Reid?!”

“I mean, we’ve been together for a while, but we’ve just… kept it on the downlow.” He shrugged, fixing the sweater you had gotten him.

He knew how dangerous his job was, and with the amount you were in the media, it would be easy to make you a target. As much as he didn’t want to think about it, you were the perfect target, even though you were a high-level risk person to do anything to.

“Well, I want to meet her! Does she like coffee? We can go get coffee, or, or! We can go get drinks.” She’s grinning, wiggling her brows up at him making Emily laugh.

“Oh, come on, Spence! Why would you keep this from us?!” She’s smiling widely, clapping her hands. “How long have you guys been together?”

“One year, two months and twenty-seven days.”

“That long and you didn’t tell us?!” JJ basically yelled, covering her mouth. “Spencer!”

“You never asked!”

“Guys, this is Y/N L/N,” Hotch introduces you, gesturing toward where you stood in front of the main TV. “She has just made a… very generous donation to the BAU.”

There you stood, dressed fucking beautiful as always, wearing a black pencil skirt and a pretty mauve button down that you tucked into the pencil skirt. You were at the head of the table with no surprise, your heels giving you a few extra inches of height.

“I never knew that the BAU could receive donations…” Garcia spoke, letting go of Spencer as you smiled at her.

“You normally don’t,” you respond, giggling. “But I pulled some strings. I was able to give your jet some new upgrades, got all of your computers up to date with the best, all of your FBI equipment such as vests, guns that are suited to each of you, such as a new SIG-Sauer P226R - of course fitted with a Streamlight attachment - for SSA Morgan, two Glock 19s of course for SSAs Prentiss and Jareau, along with Glock 26s for backups, a Springfield Custom for SSA Rossi and of course, a Smith & Wesson revolver for Dr. Reid. I’m aware that Agent Garcia isn’t a gun girl, but,” you giggled as you bent down and grabbed a small box, walking over. “This job is dangerous and you should be protected.”

Garcia gasps, staring down at the box. “Oh I love gifts, and it’s a pink box, can I open the pink bedazzled box?”

“Yes, please open the pink bedazzled box.” You giggled, Spencer inhaling deeply as Garcia opened the box. “My friend owns a company that makes sure people stay safe while being pretty.”

“It’s a taser!” She gasped, grabbing the bejeweled protection device. “Oh my gosh, and it has diamonds- are they real diamonds?!”

“They’re actually pink amethyst, someone… persuaded me from getting real diamonds, as they said amethyst fit you more,” you answer, eyes flickering over to Spencer who blushed slightly. “And I have to agree.”

“Oh I like her.” She says making everyone laugh, Hotch’s eyes flickering between you and Spencer.

“I think we should leave Reid and Y/N alone for a few minutes,” Hotch spoke, his lips firmly pressed together to hide a smile as you grab the boxes and start handing them out. “Thank you, Y/N. I really do appreciate the gift.”

“It’s nothing, really,” you giggled, watching as they slowly started walking out and Spencer slowly stepped forward. “And this is for you, Dr. Reid.”

“I uhm… thank you, Y/N,” he whispers as Derek was the last to leave, closing the door with a quick wink at the younger man. “Thank you, really.”

“I thought you would need a new one,” you whisper, slowly opening the box and pulling his hand to the grip and smiling. “I got it engraved for you.”

He smiled when he saw the longitude and latitude lines of where you both first met, fingers slowly trailing over the wood. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered, slowly setting it down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re beautiful. Did you… did you mean to not tell me you were coming?”

“It was a surprise,” you whisper back, smiling before your phone starts to ring. “Oh, I’m so sorry honey, I need to go. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Y-Yeah, that sounds good,” he whispered, slowly putting down the case and humming. “Can I uhm… hold your hands?”

You giggle. “There’s no reason to ask me that anymore, Spencer. We’ve been dating for over a year now, you don’t have to ask.”

“But I like to.” He responded, slipping his hands into yours and pressing a firm kiss to your lips. “Except when it’s like that… I love to kiss you, sweetheart, I love you.”

“I love it when you kiss me, my darling,” you whisper back, your hands pushing into his hair as you pull him down. “I love you.”

“I… I love you too.” He finally whispers back, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“You will,” you respond, giggling. “I have to go cut the ribbon at the new restaurant. We can go eat there tomorrow?”

“Sure, that sounds good.” He squeezed your hands again, smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Spence. I love you.” You pressed another kiss to his cheek, squeezing his hand. “I’ll see you tonight! Text me when you’re done with work, I’ll pick you up.”

“Sounds good.” He smiled as you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and walked out, waving at everyone and saying a quick goodbye to the profilers who pretended they were doing something outside of the conference room. “So… you’ve met Y/N… what do you think?”

“About the fact you’re a sugar baby?” Derek grinned, crossing his arm as Penelope pressed the button on the side of the taser to turn it on, the tall man jumping. “Fuck, baby girl, you scared the shit out of me.”

“I didn’t know my chocolate thunder could get scared.” She giggled, getting it closer to his chest and pressing the button making Derek back up.

“Hey, that’s a weapon! Don’t play with those-” he yelped when she got closer, giggling. “Y/N never should’ve given you that!”

“I like it,” she says, smiling. “And her. We should go out for drinks.”

“Yeah, we should but uhm… Morgan, what do you mean by a uhm… ‘sugar baby’?”

“Oh my goodness, Spence has a sugar mommy! I want a sugar mommy, damn.” Emily mumbled, crossing her arms.

“What is that?”

“It’s basically when woman who is very financially well off gets a person who is most often younger and gives them expensive gifts or cash in return for companionship,” JJ explains, shrugging before everyone actually looked at Spencer, his head tucked low and his hair falling into his face as he stared down at the engraved revolver. “B-But uhm… maybe her love language is just gift giving, right guys?”

“Right!” Emily agreed, nodding. “Sh-She probably just… y’know, uhm… likes to give you gifts.”

Spencer wasn’t really paying attention to their attempts to salvage their words, his lips pursed. Was that all he was to you? A sugar baby? Were you just giving him this stuff in return for his companionship? You both had sex often, not that it was something Reid particularly gloated about, but it was definitely more than a regular couple, especially after you gave him a gift. You wouldn’t do that though, right?

All of the ‘I love you’s you both shared that weren’t able to be left unsaid after he said it first, the longing touches, the embraces after making love? What you both did wasn’t even sex, it was the literal form of how in love you both were. It wasn’t fake, right?

“Hey, Reid.” Derek stepped forward, waving a hand in front of his face. “It was just a joke, man. Don’t think too much about it, she seems really sweet, and super in love with you. Remember it’s just a joke, okay?”

Spencer nodded slightly, sending him a tight lipped smile toward him before raising his hand. “I uhm… is there anything else for me to do here? If not, I think I’m going to go home for the rest of the day.”

“N-No, I think we’ve got it, Spence,” JJ cleared her throat, inhaling deeply as Spencer nodded. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine, just want to go home. See you tomorrow.” He smiled, offering a wave as they watched him go down the stairs and walk out.

“I think we might’ve ruined something.”

That night, Spencer didn’t go to your house like you wanted him to for your How to Train your Dragon movie marathon. You both were going to watch it exactly in order, series included besides the ones that came to the future, but it was just not something he wanted to do right now.

He wrapped himself in the blanket you had gotten him, the fabric one that reminded him of your home, where you had texture issues and only had a few choice fabrics allowed in your home. Being buried under the mountains of blankets was nice and safe, the only thing on his mind was all of your gifts that he had on display that he loved, collectors editions of his favorite books and such.

Was that all he was to you? What Morgan called him - a sugar baby that returned gifts with pleasure?

His thoughts blurred, a soft groan leaving his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut – there were too many thoughts going through his head that he didn’t even hear the door open and close.

“Spence? Spencer, are you okay? Baby, what’s wrong?” Your hands pushed back his hair, a sharp inhale making your eyes meet his.

“Am I just a sugar baby to you?”

You paused, tilting your head. “You want to be my sugar baby?”

“What? No- what did you hear?” He asked, flinching as you pushed back the blanket and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his nose.

“That you want to be my sugar baby? Why would you want that, I give you gifts because I like to…” you pause, shaking your head. “Do you uhm… want more gifts? I can do that.”

“What? No, no! I just uhm… Morgan said that you were my ‘sugar mommy’.”

“Well, that’s how it started out, remember?” You say, smiling as you stroked back his hair. “That contract you signed at the beginning?”

He paused, tilting his head slightly, nodding. “Yes, but I thought that… it was because of how your lifestyle was-” he was mumbling, going through his mind whenever he read through it, gasping. “I signed a sugar mommy contract.”

“That had to be renewed every six months,” you whisper, hands rubbing his thighs. “How many times have you signed that same contract, darling?”

“Once.”

“So are you my sugar baby or my boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend.”

“Are you going to stay my boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

You smiled, stroking his face. “Did that make you uncomfortable? Thinking of yourself as a sugar baby?”

“What made me uncomfortable was the fact that we have sex a lot,” he mumbles, looking up to see your fall. “N-No, not like that, I love having sex with you, a lot, but it’s always after gifts and JJ said sugar babies give companionship in response to gifts so I-”

“Thought that I wanted sex in return for gifts?” You filled in, your hands continuing to rub his thighs making his stomach twist, sparks running up his spine. “I’m sorry I made you think that. Do you not want gifts anymore, I just-”

“No,” Spencer whispered, his cock already twitching as you stared up at him, eyes wide and looking so innocent - he just had to do something. “I want to have sex without giving gifts. Sex is my gift to you, would you like that?”

“N-Not if it makes you uncomfortable-”

“You think sex with you makes me uncomfortable?” He was already unzipping his pants, lifting himself up as he pushed off the blankets, his body way too hot now. “Sweetheart, I could never stop thinking about having sex with you.”

“Wh-What do you want me to do?” It was stupid, asking that whenever he was already pumping his cock in front of you, cum already dribbling from his tip down his shaft.

“You’ve always known how to use that pretty mouth, sweetheart, can you do it for me-?” He couldn’t even finish before you pulled his cock into your mouth, a loud groan falling from his mouth as your mouth enveloped his cock. One of your hands pumped his cock as the other cupped and squeezed his balls, your mouth bobbing on his shaft as you hollowed out your cheeks.

You could feel your eyes roll back as his cock pushed down the back of your throat, soft gags falling from your mouth as his hand held the back of your head, threading through your hair to guide you up and down his cock. Your mouth was hot and wet, covering his cock in your saliva as you continued to gag on his length, attempting to relax your throat as he pushed you down so your nose was against his pelvis.

His cock was always kept neat and groomed, a small bush of hair pressed against the tip of your nose, your tongue attempting to swirl around his length as you choked slightly, inhaling through your nose. He smelt like peppermint and sage, a special body wash that was expensive that was suited for his sensitive skin, the smell something you often connected to him.

You gasped as he pulled you off his cock, watching his length bob before he pushed back your hair, his hand settling on your cheek as his thumb pulled down your swollen, shiny lips. “Keep going.”

It wasn’t something up for discussion, nodding as you grabbed the rubber band around your wrist, pulling your hair back into a ponytail until he held your chin. “Come up here.”

You looked at him confused, starting to stand before he lifted you up, gasping as he walked with you toward his room, easily opening the door and setting you on the bed. He watched you bounce on his mattress as he stripped himself, your hands immediately moving to take off your own clothes before he pushed you onto your back, holding your hips as his mouth pressed firm kisses to your lips, his mouth hot as his tongue pushed into your mouth.

Your hands push back his hair, the slight stubble on his face rubbing against your own as he moves to pull you closer. It made your mind blur in confusion when he pulled away, eyes dark as he scanned your face, a grin finding its way to his lips. “Get on top of me.”

It made you confused before he laid onto his back, softly patting his mouth. “Right on here, sweetheart.”

You gulp, slowly crawling over his face before he hummed.

“Other way.”

“Y-Yes,” you whisper, slowly turning around on top of him as he bucked his hips up so his cock tapped against your mouth. “Fuck, Spence.”

“Language,” he gives your cunt a soft slap, a squelch making your eyes roll back as you slowly pull his cock into your mouth, the slight arch making it slide perfectly down your throat. His cock was longer than it was thick, but it still made you choke as you bobbed up and down on his cock, pushing out your tongue as you swirl it around his tip. “Fuck yes, baby, fuck.”

You groan around his length as his lips start to press firmly against your cunt, his nimble fingers pushing into your soaked cunt easily. It makes you groan loudly, eyes rolling back as you purposely pull off of his cock enough to spit on his tip, his hips bucking as you relax your jaw and bob your head, watching the globs of spit run down his shaft.

His fingers were already knuckle deep into you, pushing and pulling as he scissored his fingers inside of you, your hips rolling into his mouth as his cock twitched in your mouth. His fingers were getting rougher, open mouth sucking and licking with a bit more force as his loud groans were muffled by your cunt against his mouth.

He was always talented with his mouth, his tongue trailing over your folds as he pushed another finger into you, rolling his fingers knuckle by knuckle as you suckle on his tip, pulling away to hear that loud pop as you pump his cock, watching as more cum dribbles from his tip. It makes you smile, your tongue flattening against his tip as you continue to pump his cock, watching it twitch in your hand as you licked up his cum.

He smiled against your cunt, his hips bucking as you held back loud moans, broken whines leaving your lips as you flatten your tongue along his shaft from the base to the tip before opening your mouth wide when his tip flushed red and he let out a loud groan against your cunt. The vibrations make your hips rut against his face, his fingers pushing into a new place inside of you that makes your eyes roll back and your stomach tighten, mind blurring as you pull his cock into your mouth.

It didn’t take him very long to follow in cumming after you, hips bucking into your mouth and filling your mouth with cum as you sucked his tip as though to get every last drop out. Your mind was still slightly hazy as you languidly hump against his face, continuing to lick his cock as though it was a melting popsicle before he blew softly into your stretched cunt, a whine leaving your mouth as he lifted you up and laid you back.

“Sp-Spence, please, please I need you.”

“Need me? Does your slutty little hole need my cock?” He raised a brow as you whimpered, squirming underneath him.

“N-No, don’t be mean please, I need you.” You whisper, your hands holding his shoulders as he smiles, immediately registering the input of your subspace. “Please? Please, Spence?”

“You need me, baby? Is your mind all floaty and hazy, darling?” He teased you, his hand holding the shaft of his cock as he slid his head up and down your slit.

A loud whine fell from your lips, hips bucking. "No, no, don't do that! I'll be good, I promise!"

He laughs, shaking his head. “You’ll be good, baby? You’re always good, always good for me. You want me to fuck this slutty little hole and fill you with cum, don’t you?”

“N-No, not slutty, j-just please…” you mumbled, eyes rolling back as he pushed into you, watching his cock slowly disappearing inside of your cunt and feeling it inside of you, your walls clamping down on his shaft as he slowly pushed into you. Your eyes rolled back, stomach twisting and turning as he held your thighs, pulling your knees over his shoulder and leaning forward. “F-Fuck!”

It was a new angle, his balls slapping against your ass as he pulled your lips to his, one hand still on your knee while the other cupped your face. “Y-Yes darling, you’re doing so good, so so good.”

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, you feel so good inside of me.” You whined, choking as he slammed into you, your mind blurring as your stomach tightens again, mouth opening wide as his fingers delicately trail your sensitive tummy that clenched as soon as they graze your skin. “C-Cumming, cumming!”

“Cum baby, cum.”

Your eyes roll back, a rough thrust making your eyes squeeze shut just as they rolled back, a broken moan leaving your mouth as he panted above you. “W-We’re not done, darling, not done yet.”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡

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© asterias-record-shop

[orpheatelos]

Morale Reasons

“I’ve fulfilled one of your requests.”

Elizabeth looks up from her book. “Oh?” she asks, as cheerful as ever. “What do you have for me this time, Yuki?”

“A Mothman,” I say, holding my hand out. A translucent playing card materializes, hovering a few centimeters above my palm. The picture is a gray moth, its yellow wings tucked behind its back.

“Excellent!” Elizabeth says. “Can it cast Fire spells?”

“It can,” I say. The card turns around, Mothman’s portrait facing me so Elizabeth can read the wall of statistics displayed on the back. She smiles, satisfied with my handiwork.

“Marvelous as always,” she says. “As thanks, may I gift you some clothes? They’re more suited for one of your friends, but I’m sure you’ll find them appealing as well.” She gives me the most stilted wink I’ve seen in my life, then reaches into her handbag and pulls out an entire maid costume. “Well? What do you think?”

“Thank you,” I say, my voice unsteady. I’m not sure how to react. “Where did you get that?”

“Fragments of human desire wash ashore in my realm,” Elizabeth intones. “This outfit is one of them, a symbol of some deeply coveted object or status. I haven’t a clue what place it occupies in the collective unconscious, but for it to arrive intact, its allure must be strong indeed.”

“You could say that,” I mutter, my face heating up. “I’ll take it.”

“Glorious!” Elizabeth says. “Have a wonderful day.”

After a meal at Hagakure Ramen, I return to my dorm room and empty out my school bag. I’d crudely folded the maid outfit Elizabeth gave me and stuffed it inside, but it doesn’t seem to have wrinkled too badly. I’m not sure what to do with it, though. Among the girls I’m friends with, it looks like it would fit Mitsuru best, but she would never wear a maid dress. Besides, it would be inappropriate to give as a gift. The recipient might think I was pressuring her to wear it for me.

I hang the garment up in my closet. We’re going to Tartarus tonight- someone’s wandered in again- and I need to get ready. But as I’m about to shut the closet door, an idea hits me.

Mitsuru and I are about the same height.

A few minutes later, I walk into the main lounge, dressed in the maid outfit. The skirt is more modest than I’d expected, and it even came with black tights, but I still feel vulnerable.

“Is everyone ready?” I ask. Everyone turns to face me, and six pairs of eyes widen in unison.

“Leader…” Mitsuru says politely. “Surely you don’t intend to wear that to Tartarus.”

“I do,” I say. “It’ll be good for morale.”

“Maybe if it was a girl wearin’ it,” Junpei complains. “This is just weird.”

“You can call me a girl if it makes you feel better,” I retort, grinning at Junpei.

“Not gonna happen,” Junpei says. “You’re one weird guy, Makoto.”

Aigis looks puzzled. “Your attire does not appear to provide any tactical advantages,” she states, “and it most closely resembles the uniforms worn by female servants at Mr. Kirijo’s vacation home. Why have you chosen to dress as such for a field operation?”

“Because I look cute in it,” I say. “Right, Yukari?”

Yukari’s face gets red. “N-no!” she insists. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing with Junpei, but seeing you in girls’ clothes is just weird. Especially since it’s a maid outfit.”

“I’m still gonna wear it,” I say. “Now, is everyone ready?”

As we’re walking home from the rescue operation, Yukari catches up to me. “There’s something I want to say to you,” she says, “but it stays between us. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“You look cute in a maid dress,” she admits. “It’s a little weird still, ‘cause you’re a guy, but you wear it well. And… okay, maybe seeing you like that did boost my morale a bit.” She glares at me. “If you tell anyone I said this, you’re dead. Got it?”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” I promise. “Thanks, Yukari.”

[chimericalilith]

Entangled Ribbons and Gifts

𐙚°˖➴ pairing. marius x fem!reader 𐙚°˖➴ tags. ooc, smut, lots of teasing, fluff, established relationship, bits of light bondage, both are top/bottom, multiple rounds 𐙚°˖➴ wc. 4.1k words 𐙚°˖➴ notes. inspired from marius MR christmas card. reader is a bit feisty, nickname; miss. first time posting so its simple layout we ball.

Tidying up some gift boxes, you finally finished another long list of gift wraps. Christmas always makes the business buzz, but it’s always so tiring. You sigh as you fix your posture and scan your finger for another list, waiting for you to wrap them all up. As your gaze transfixes on the list and your mind starts to wander which ones you should sort out in the workshop, a jingle sound spurred in as the door open, softly producing a creak of a sound.

You don’t bother looking up, your hand starts propping skillfully. Tying up the bows and cutting paper miniatures alongside carved letters with intense speed. It’s nearing Christmas Eve and you still haven’t thought up of how to surprise Marius, making your job more ironic. Unconsciously forgetting the opened door beforehand, there’s a sudden warmth wrapping around your waist that sends a jolt towards your body.

“Missy, what’s got your face all scrunched up?” Marius teased with a knowing smile, his wrap around your waist only getting tighter.

“Oh, I don’t know Mister. Maybe the fact that I’m carefully putting a wreath together and someone decided to surprise me which almost caused the unfurling of this whole thing. Almost pressed charges for my patience.” You met his gaze, lowering them to where his hand nestled comfortably.

Marius lowered his face to the nape of your neck, breathing hotly against it, lightly grazing your neck. A shiver ran to your body. Before, you slowly continue punching out snowflake papers for the gift wraps but now? Completely stopped on your tracks.

“I-I’m working right now. Plus, people can see us and it’s certainly not good for business.” You muttered, although you both secretly knew that it isn’t that much out of your realm. You did it before, besides you didn’t do anything about his hand that slowly slivers under your skirt.

“Hm? I don’t have any clue what you’re implying Miss. But…well, if you say so.” He gripped your thigh, swirled his fingers around it, and completely let you go. The warmth suddenly left you which inadvertently made you sigh. But that’s beside the point although his visit is an everlasting welcomed one, what’s with the sudden visit?

“With that out of the way, why did you come here? Did you want to put an order for a gift?” You asked, putting a certain distance between you two so he doesn’t try to do anything funny. Again. You spun your body around, preparing for a notepad to jot it down in case he does.

“Yeah. I’m planning to put together this event however I’m quite lacking in terms of this so-called professional eye for the quality. And that’s where you come Miss.” He winked, snatching a folded paper out of his shirt and surprisingly it’s a genuine contract stating my work.

“Well, I’d love to know how it feels to be employed by my own boyfriend but unfortunately, I’m swamped by work right now. Christmas season really is the gift-wrapping business’s main stage.” Lowering your gaze, feeling a tiny chip of guilt chiming in your heart.

‘Ah, no worries, Miss! I just thought that as a boyfriend I can help in terms of business. Which seems it isn’t needed, because it’s apparent everyone wants my girlfriend so much, she can’t even spare some time for me.” Marius pouted, although that pinkish hue peeking out of his ears betray him of how casual he took you calling him a your ‘boyfriend’. It didn’t completely miss you about how you two don’t meet as often now due to how swamped you are with your work. Seeing him right in front of you reminded of how much you missed him. It brings you back to Christmas of last year where you two are practically inseparable. He always readies you to work by propping earmuffs and cozying up your scarf to your neck.

He always made sure to cover up the hickeys well. Realizing your musings are turning to a certain direction, you completely shut it down and cleared your throat.

“…Well, I might not be able to fully help but I think I can assist you in simpler ways! I ordered too much ribbon cloth by accident. I think there’s a lot to spare for your event and it might spice it up better.” You cheerfully added, covering up the indecent thoughts you had while Marius has his eyes bore on you curiously.

“Only if it doesn’t burden you. But that will be super helpful. I’ll make sure my girlfriend is properly compensated.” Marius softly laughed, closing in the distance between the two of you and nuzzled his nose against yours.

“By the way, I think ribbons would look nice on you Miss.” He whispered in your ear, before pulling you into a hug and kissing your forehead. Feeling your face burn up, you pull his collar shirt and kissed him deeply. Tongue swirling until you’re out of breath.

“H-haa…Miss…” Your intertwined lips parted. Before he can do anything more, you immediately let go and push him out of the store. Sticking your tongue out, you look at his flustered face and feel smugness bubbling in your insides. Marius 0 – You 1. That is until you crouched out of embarrassment, face painted as red as the bulb ornaments decorating your store festively.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

You arrive at the event, carrying big boxes filled with satin silk. It is worth noting that the red and dark-light hue of green stash are abundant compared to other heaps of ribbon cloth. Picking up the boxes strains bits of your muscles that’s only used to meticulous work caused you to furrow your eyebrows, configuring an image of you taking multiple trips back-to-back to deliver it. Seems like your fate is sealed and all you can do is relish in its despair. That is, until Vincent showed up.

Perking your head up excitedly, you hurriedly greeted Vincent. Way too eager to get rid of this delivery and start up on decorating the ribbons instead. “Thank god you’re here Vincent! Am I too presumptuous to assume that you’re here for backup to pick all this up?” You exasperated a laugh, a bit desperate that you’re wrong and Vincent is indeed here to help you.

“Technically, I’m not here for that… But I am the in charge to bring the reinforcements specifically.” Hastily following up his speech, noticing your face falling in the middle of his sentence which quickly lit back up as fast as fairy light bulbs.

“Now, let us haste to the venue for the decoration.” Vincent said, instantly walking with you following with a haste. Upon entering the venue, the smell of cinnamon wafted throughout everything with a small hint of sugar canes mixed with hot chocolate scents. You can even smell the faint smell of the mint. It truly is a mesmerizing event, knocking you back to your senses that this is Pax Foundation we’re talking about so we’re not here to joke around.

“We have arrived at the venue, now if you will excuse me- “

“So? What do you think Miss?” Warm hands suddenly enveloped your shoulder, startling you which shocked you a bit which caused the voice to kick in a soft a laughter.

“Woah! Easy… I know you’re excited to meet me but let’s exert some patience, shall we?” Meeting Marius’s gaze, you see the glint in his eyes. Great, he’s going to tease that about you for the whole day now.

With Vincent nowhere to be found, your focus retrack back to Marius and you crossed your hands. “Hey, aren’t you the eager one to see me?” Pouting your lip ever-so-slightly, undoubtedly Marius bit the bait. His smirk growing bigger.

“Well, if you say so. Now, chop-chop! Get to work, dear Miss.” His face shifted suddenly, refusing to return your gaze. Shrugging, turning his back onto you, and stepping away. What a petty man! You thought, but before your hand reached him out you step back. Not wanting Marius to get the upper hand you decide to participate in this ‘nonchalant game’, aiming for the top spot.

Hence, you begrudgingly start putting up ribbons. Concocting placements that would strategically fit the best in the venue. Slowly, you completely forget the begrudging feeling and started humming to the tunes that played rhythmically in the background. Amidst it, your mind suddenly buzzed. That’s it! You finally know how to solve the looming problem that’s haunted your brain for days. Staring at the ribbons, you giggled. Marius is in for a surprise.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

Tipsily checking your watch, you see it’s 10.36 PM; 24th December of 2032. You took another sip of red wine Marius prepared you. Cozily waiting for the celebration of Christmas, you decide to spend it in a cabin with Marius. Intending to participate snowboarding, the plan didn’t happen. The snow piled up more than you two thoughts of and so, here you are. Nibbling your olives from the charcuterie board while excessively sipping wine.

You gaze at Marius sitting near the fireplace, deciding to join him. Bringing a giant blanket to cover the both of you, you cozily snug up on him. He embraces you softly, slowly resting his head towards the nape of your neck. Both of you enjoying this silent moment together. Moments pass but the drowsiness never hits you, rather it feels hot. Its like heat bubbling up inside, one look at Marius and you notice you’re not the only one.

Gazing each other, you slowly intertwine into a kiss. From soft wanting kisses it turned into a more ferocious one. Swirling each other’s tongue, panting out of breath whilst your hand crumpled his khaki shirt. Subconsciously, you unbutton few of the top ones. Riding off of the heat, you start to graze your teeth and lick his neck, paying extra attention to the veins.

“Mm…haa… right there Miss…” Marius panted, lifting you up to put you on his lap, direct contact with his clothed bulge. Heat swirling, pooling up your stomach making you dizzy. Trying to keep your head clear, you realize this is the perfect time for the surprise.

“…Marius…. hngg hold on. I… have something to give you…” You whisper weakly, desperately trying to keep the heat inside you from bubbling up. Wriggling your way out of his clutch, you softly put his hand off of your hips. Releasing the intact from his obvious bulge.

Unhappy with how the situation continued, Marius reaffirmed his grip onto yours. “Miss… really? Must it be right now?” Whining, his eyes sparked bits of desperation. Not wanting to release you. Biting back, you shift your fingers to his button shirt, freeing it from him by unbuttoning three buttons from the bottom. Slowly, you caress his abs, swirling it softly. Leaving a ghost of a touch, sending shivers down his spine.

“Now… let’s be a good boy and let me give you something. I promise, it’s worth the wait.” Emphasizing on each word, tapping on each of his abs. He squirmed, loosening his grip on you. Oh, how pretty your boyfriend looks. You wish he knew how his lips, plump after countless kisses you did and his face. His face stained with red from the mix of wine and the feverish heat that intoxicates the both of you.

Taking advantage of this moment, you hurriedly slip away and instantly rummaged your belongings until you find the right one. A red box, filled with beautiful ornaments but most importantly, ribbons. Bringing the box towards him, you scoot just right over to him and opened your mouth “Dear Marius, close your eyes.” Which surprisingly he obliged. Chuckling, you put one of the ribbons to cover up his eye.

“Uh… Miss? What is this for, perhaps?” Grunting, his vision taken away. Marius immediately jolted when you put your hands around his neck and went up close to his ear.

“Now, stay still. Why are you so nervous for? Are you thinking of something…bad?” You exaggerate your voice, sarcasm seeping through while making a mocking gasp. Doesn’t help how this seemed to turn Marius on more, as his cock visibly twitched.

Seeing as he is genuinely staying still, you start to prop up your craft. First, you’re taking the green ribbon, beautifully lush with a hue of lighter grass green. Going from bottom to top, you wrap it around his thigh. Making him buck down while you quickly stop and caress his chest. “Shh, take it easy. We’ll be there when I finish. So let me.” He only answered with another grunt. You continue to wrap around his chest, tying it up with a pretty little ribbon.

Feeling pretty satisfied with yourself, you hastily take another ribbon. It’s red this time. You carefully nudge your way around his neck. Making sure its loose, but he can feel it. You wrap it more times than before, finishing when it reaches his thigh. Nudging him to lay down, you stare at your masterpiece. Your own little gift. Admiring your hard work, you release the ribbon used to blindfold him and look at him expectantly.

“Oh… so this is your little gift to me. How’s it? Tying up a handsome man, very influential too nonetheless. Never expected you to have these thoughts regarding me. Been lonely, hm?” Marius remarked teasingly, but his face melts to a sweet smile. Well, that face is also soon wiped out of his face too. Because you started undressing in front of him.

Peeling off clothes one by one, you scoot closely over to him. It’s cold, and you’re naked. Plus, it’s super embarrassing but that part is soon erased when you start ravaging each other mouths once more. Even when all tied up, Marius still tries to use his tongue to overcome you. You slowly climb up his body, positioning your entrance towards his mouth.

“Lick.”

He did just that, and more. Needing a grip, you start tugging on his hair. At first, it’s a lick, but then he continued – deeper on you, swirling it inside of your clamp walls. Your hips instinctively buck, riding out your high off of his tongue. The cabin floors creak, he starts lapping your wet cunt up with no mercy. Noticing how much you’re enjoying it he ups the intensity, slathering himself in your juice.

“Miss, you look so fucking beautiful… bouncing up and down for me. Just like that…” Marius breathlessly mutters, continuing to lick all your juices. Suckling on your pearl, he coos and pushes hot breaths into it. Making you let out a whimper. Needing more, you push his head whilst jerking his hair, resulting his tongue reaching further into your walls. Clenching on it, you choked on his name and squirted all over his face.

Dazed off of your high, Marius starts to prop his body up. Making you feel just how clearly his cock is twitching, aching to be released. You shudder, the release left you beyond sensitive. “H…haa, Marius…wait….” You feel his hand getting untied, propping them on your naked hips.

“I’d love to Miss… so go on.” Marius smirked, knowing you’re still recovering from before. Refusing to give in to his whims, you start unbuckling his pants. He’s the gift, you’re the one that’s going to savor it. His tip leaking from pre-cum, is enormous. Standing upright you try to line it up with your entrance so it doesn’t slip and oh so slowly, you start to slid your cunt in.

‘Hngg…. Ha….aah….Marius…” You start to move it up and down, squelching noises echoed throughout the cabin. Your hand locking to his neck, needing a grip. You move achingly slow, Marius grunts becomes more and more visible. Visibly gripping the rug till his knuckles went white. You chuckle, nibbling your mouth up his ear while occasionally moaning. Reveling in the fact that there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I… c-can’t. You little minx… driving me insane.” Marius panted, hair damp from all the restraining he had to do. But all his words dry out when he feels you instantly clenching around him from his new nickname, chasing yet another high off of your own.

"F-fuck... didn't know you're sensitive like that Miss..." He whispered barely audible. Hot breaths scorches through your ear. Your own knees start to buckle, pace getting sloppier. Clenching all the while you pull out till his tip and crash down till it hits your cervix, Marius gasped out a moan and you feel it twitch. Skin against skin, you hug till your nails scratch against Marius’s back leaving marks while the two of you chase both of your high. Clenching as hard as you can, you both crash into climax at the same time. Mixing splashes of your fluids, leaving both of you delirium off of the heat.

“M-Miss, please… need more…” Marius whined, which earned a chuckle from you.

“Who’s the winner now?” You flicker your gaze away, musing. You did climax twice and he did only once, plus he obliged even if it was achingly slow for him. Fair game, you’ll let him off this one time.

“Fine.” You sigh, “One time, let’s see what you got. It’d be a shame if I couldn’t even reach orgasm though…” You scoffed playfully, which Marius started acting on. He starts spreading soft kisses. Your nape, your collarbone, your breast. Stopping on your breast, he trails down his fingers down till your stomach – causing an arch down your spine. Closing in on the lower part of your stomach, he starts to circle on your clit.

“F-fuck… you’re so wet. And you said no orgasm? Minx.” He hisses, jamming one finger into you ruthlessly. Your chest heaves, sucking in how expertly he’s using his finger to flicker in-between your walls. Increasing his digits, he jammed two fingers inside you. Relishing in the way you’re grinding against his hand, pinching your pearl which earned a shriek from you. But just before you’re so close… he lets it out.

“What’s that…f-for, Marius!?” You breathed heavily, sounding more desperate than you intended to.

“That’s what you get for trying to play by yourself. Now, open up.” Spreading your hips apart, Marius slid his cock in one thrust. Choking a sound, you grab him hastily for support. It’s an insanely different feeling from before. The intensity, different.

“Hng… Fuck. You’re s-so tight. Loosen up a bit…. will you…?” Hastening the pace, wet slapping sounds wafts through the cabin. Pressing on the bulge inside your stomach, Marius put another stimulation towards you. Trying your best not to lose through the haze of it, you scratch more and more of his back. Each thrust intensified, making louder noises, you start wrapping your legs around him.

“M-Marius…close…. Keep it going….” You blabbered, clenching. Moaning right up to your ear, Marius starts to lose his pace and his thrusts becomes sloppier. Pressing more tightly towards your bulge, you squirm and choked up a tired moan. Feeling you climax, Marius grunts and thrusted a few more till he also climaxed. Relieved, you start propping up your stiff muscles to relax. Only to behold the sight of Marius’s cock, still hard and ready for another round.

“Oh, come on now, Miss. Finish what you started!” Marius whined, which resulted in a pout. You refuse to relent; you already gave him one chance. Maybe you’re lenient with him sometimes, but that’s not today. Huffing, you thought of an idea.

“Okay.”

“Really? We- “

“However, there’s a requirement. You can’t go in. At all.” Sharply cutting him off, you scoffed. This sure is a payback for fucking you so hard before that your hips are basically sore. You see his face falling off.

“Th-that’s not fair.” Marius stuttered, dumbfounded over your answer.

“Well, you wanted something and I rewarded you. Won’t you reward me now for this thing I asked of you Marius. Please?” You mockingly pouted, wishing him to take the bait. He did take it, marvelously. He scoots over out of desperation and softly touched your thigh.

“So, anything… as long as it isn’t your clit can do right?” You slowly nod, starting to grapple what he meant by that. You spread your thigh open, cocking your head high. Signaling agreement to what he’s about to do.

“Well, good luck. Third’s time the charm after all… hm.” You hum, feeling happy over your plan working out. Every single one! Flawlessly. You sense a rubbing in your thigh and your head that’s up at the clouds drags back down to earth again. Flickering your gaze towards Marius. He starts speeding up, grinding against your thigh. Shoveling down all his embarrassment against his desires that’s burning him up. Panting and moaning, making a slobbery mess of himself. You position your thigh to assist him, scooting closer and humming on his ear. Teasing him, you sucked on his neck which propelled him to climax. An orgasm for a hickey, quite an equivalent exchange isn’t it.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

That was intense. You liked it, and Marius liked it though. However, it did take all the stamina out of you. You’re spent. Drowsily, you try to stand up. Hips being sore, the result of foul play of Marius. You wince, going back to your bed. But you can’t go to bed before taking a bath, that’s simply just isn’t an option. So, you sit. Contemplating on what to do.

Setting down bits of his work that he’s been doing, Marius slides to your side of the bed. Moving your hair to one side, resting his head carefully upon your neck while pulling you into a deep hug. He’s so tender with how he moves, careful not to put a single bit of weight upon your spent body. Slowly nuzzling his face to your cheek, he whispered “Care to take a bath, Miss?”.

He must have realized, breaking into a smile you eagerly nod. Propping you up, he carried you ala princess bridal style. Grinning, Marius strides towards the bathroom where a bathtub sits at the center of the bathroom with a bunch of lotion, creams, soaps, shampoo splayed out. Putting you down on a stool, he starts leveling the level of warmth for the water running through the bathtub. Busying himself with picking scents of soaps and shampoos, flickering his gaze towards you ever so slightly once in a while.

Once everything’s ready he makes a show out of it by sprinkling rose petals everywhere then insisting on carrying you. Not letting your feet touch the cool marble ground of the bathroom. He sets you in, then starts softly scrubbing your skin with a sponge. Smoothly handles your hair, making braids out of it in the process. He tends to you like you’re a budding flower, such care and tenderness. Every move earnest and once everything is done, he marvels at the sight of you. Making sure he doesn’t lose out; he scrubs the hell out of himself before both of you return to the couch.

“Marius, why did you specifically pick this cinnamon scent?”

“Well, because I noticed you wafting through the smell of the venue a few days ago and humming when the cinnamon ones are sprawled throughout. Can’t have you forgetting what the occasion is tomorrow.” He sarcastically added, knowing that the both of you just spend Christmas huddling on each other, drinking hot chocolates, and relishing each other’s gifts. Chuckling, you give into his arms. It’s ridden with peppermint. Complimenting the cinnamon. A lovely sight, and a memory that’s etched forever for future Christmas that is to come.

You and Marius sat in the sofa for what it seems a long while, when suddenly the hour beeps and Christmas tunes chimes in. Signifying the change of date into 25th of December, 2032.

Looking at each other, you both smiled tenderly.

“Merry Christmas, Marius.”

“Merry Christmas, Miss.”

“I’m insanely grateful for you, Miss. It shames me how word doesn’t justify but I’m happy to be your gift. Used whenever you like. Because, your own existence into my life has been the most magnificent gift of it all.” Marius spur out his words, pink hues covering his face making his glassy eyes stand out.

“Oh, Marius… You’re a gift to my life too. Life has been such a delight, and I can’t see myself without you.” You softly wrap your arms around his body, nuzzling against his cheek and returning his gaze. You don’t need a mirror to know that the both of you are making the same face right now.

You lean into Marius for a kiss, resulting in a long tender kiss filled with warmth. Both of you taste like candy canes you ate whilst sitting with Marius. Snuggling your head up Marius’s chest, you let out a satisfied sigh. Drowsiness washing the both of you, falling asleep leaning towards each other and awoken by the chirps of a chickadee. Welcoming a Christmas morning, unwrapping each other’s gifts with buzzing excitement.

[delacyrose224]

Strawberry Swing

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: Valentine's Day fluff

Word Count: .8k

Author's Note: I think this is the fastest I have ever put a fic together, and I am blaming it on Bang Chan brainrot. That's all. Oh, and the song of the day is Strawberry Swing by Coldplay!

------------------------------------

You pause, fingers clasped into a fist in front of the door. This was a good idea, right? Bringing Chan food…because it was late…because he’d been working…because it’s Valentine’s Day. Right?

You’d gone back and forth on the whole thing all day. Chan hadn’t told you happy valentine’s day, though you’d texted off and on for hours. It’s not a big deal, you think to yourself. We’ve only been dating a few months. Don’t look too much into it. Maybe he thinks it’s over-commercialized. Maybe he thinks it’s stupid. Maybe he hates the color pink?

Before you can get even more lost in your train of thought, the door in front of you swings open to reveal your boyfriend’s shocked face.

“What’re you doing here? It’s so late!” Chan’s face scrunches in worry looking you over.

You’re so surprised, all you can manage is holding the takeout in your hand towards him. He takes it gently from you, peeking inside.

“For me?” You nod dumbly. “Come in, come in!” He reaches around to the small of your back, guiding you inside his studio.

As you sit on the couch in the far corner of the room, you fidget with your hands. “Is this okay?” you ask.

“Is what okay? Bringing me food? Always.” A small smile dances across his lips as he looks at you fondly. You breathe a sigh of relief and grin.

“How long were you out there?” he asks. A chuckle escapes your lips.

“I don’t think you want to know. Or maybe I’m just keeping an air of mystery about me.”

“Do I still make you that nervous, babe?” Chan throws an overexaggerated wink your way, then barely dodges the pillow you throw at his head. “Hey!”

“You deserved that,” you chide.

“Okay, fine, fine. I’m glad you came by…I missed you.” He stands up, moving across the room to land a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“...what a simp.” It’s your turn to dodge as he dives onto the cushion beside you, grabbing the throw pillow and aiming for your side.

“Okay, okay! I surrender!” You throw your hands over your head, and Chan uses the opportunity to wrap his arms around you and draws you into his chest.

“That’s what I thought, menace.” He leans down, dropping a kiss on the side of your neck and you grow warm at the show of affection.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, your eyes eventually starting to droop because of how late it is. 

“Hey, I thought you came to spend time with me!” Chan pouts, rubbing circles on your arm. “I haven’t even given you your gift yet.” 

“Hmm?” you murmur, still half asleep.

The hand that’s not wrapped around you fumbles beside the couch for a moment, until an envelope appears in your lap.

“What’s this?”

“Open and you’ll see,” Chan laughs. You sit up on the couch and open the pink envelope to see a card, handmade from the looks of it. There’s hearts drawn everywhere, filled in with silver glitter, and in the middle, a stick drawing of a man and a dog. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you as you flip to the inside, where Chan has written a message.

To My Valentine,

I am so very lucky to have met you. Though I haven’t known you for long, every moment we’ve spent together has been precious. You make every day brighter, and I can’t wait to spend many more months together. Gray or blue skies, we’ll face them together.

P.S. I love you Berry much!

Your face burns as you read the last sentence...you hadn’t told each other ‘I love you’ yet.

“Chan, did you make this?” 

“Yeah…I mean, it was Hyunjin’s idea to make you something, he said it would be more heartfelt and meaningful…but I made the thing! I got glitter everywhere.”

He shoves his hands in front of you, and sure enough, there’s specks of silver glitter that catch the light.

“You mean to tell me…you just were cuddling with me…with glitter on you?” He nods. “Which means it’s now on me. Which means it’s never coming off.”

“Um…I just wanted to give you a physical representation of how much I love you?” he offers.

“You love me?” Chan’s ears go pink at your question, but he nods firmly.

“I do love you. Berry much, as the card says. Get it? I drew Berry on the front!” He points at the front of the card, a huge grin on his face showing just how proud he is of his pun.

“Well, I guess we’re even…because I love you so matcha too.” 

Chan groans at your joke, but can’t help laughing as well as he pulls you back toward him, locking your lips together in a kiss.

“...guess we’re a perfect pear.”

“CHAN!”

—---------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @hyungieyoongi @alpacaparkaseok @derinxfam

Read more of my work here!

[kanazawa-division]

ABR Birthday Special: Kyler Aaron

~~ August 23rd ~~

“True peace is not merely the absence of tension: it is the presence of Justice.”

Login Lines:

“You know I appreciate you calling me, Roxie, but isn’t it in the middle of the night over there? I don’t want you to be exhausted come when you actually have to wake up.”

“…Hm? Am I forgetting something? I don’t think I am, our anniversary isn’t until-…Ah, right, of course you would remember my birthday when I don’t, thanks, babe.”

Voice Lines:

“Damn, 28 years old already and I’m still nowhere near my goal…it’s weird to think about, sometimes I wonder if I would’ve turned out differently had I not been in a coma those four years of my childhood.”

“Y’know, I’ve only been here for what, at least a year now? Crazy how used to the wackiness of the whole DRB and its contestants I’ve become, no one back at home won’t ever believe me if I told them the things I’ve seen and did.”

“Even while completely busy doing who knows what, Evelyn’s still managed to get me a present and wished me a happy birthday, I hope she’s doing well, I know she has Ace with her but…to be honest that only fuels my worries even more.”

“Ah, hello Wataru, thanks for the card, it was nice. I’m surprised you’re taking the time to visit me, aren’t you supposed to be on break? Alright, if you say so, I don’t mind the company. Hm? You got something for me? What is it?”

“Oh whoa…these are really cool, nice to know that vinyls haven’t gone completely out of style, sometimes it’s just not the same as listening on digital. Ha, I know you’d get it, Wataru, thanks, this is a really nice gift.”

“Don’t even think about it, Joey, I could hear you coming a mile away, you really ought to learn the meaning of “stealth” if you’re going to be sneaking up on someone. Yeah, yeah, well somebody’s gotta keep you in line, so what’s that behind your back?”

“Oh sick, thanks Joey. Right, did you enjoy that game I got you on your birthday? Haha, I expect nothing less from you. Well, I’m not going to be doing anything special so maybe when you get off work, we can play a few rounds together, right, we’ll see who’ll be crying later.”

Wataru Lines:

“A very happy birthday to you, Kyler. That I am but that doesn’t mean I can’t make the time to at least wish you a happy birthday, speaking of which, I got you a present.”

“I’ll admit, I was surprised when you told me that you still listen to vinyls so I bought you some while I was in a record store last weekend, I’m glad you like them. I couldn’t agree more, honestly, I think we should take a break from all the tech and go back to the classics. Of course, happy birthday.”

Joey Lines:

“Owwww! What was that for, Ky?! So I wanted to scare you a little, sue me. Oh, c’mon! I was only trying to have some fun, somebody’s gotta be the life of the party here since it’s not gonna be you and it’s definitely not gonna be Taru! Eh? Oh right! Here you go!”

“It’s the new soccer video game that Player One Studios released! It’s all the rage right now and I knew that you, as a soccer lover, would enjoy it! Oh that? I beat that game like 7 times when you first got me it, thanks again, it was really fun! Wait for real?! Oh hell yeah, now I’m pumped! Just don’t start crying when I beat you over and over, ha!”

[cheerscoops]

ship: Jonathan Byers/Eddie Munson wc: 1.8k A/N: This one was suggested by my favorite @sherifftillman <3 I take the two freak boys and I squish. Hopefully they (and the minor background ship) live up to everyone's expectations!

“Hey Byers! Wait up!”

Jonathan stopped walking to his next class and turned to find Eddie Munson of all people racing towards him.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said once he’d caught up to Jonathan. “A job opportunity really.”

“What kind of job opportunity?” He was always looking to make a little more money around the holidays, and if the job wasn’t anything illegal, he’d seriously consider the extra work.

“So, as I’m sure you’re aware, I’m the frontman for a pretty spectacular band known as Corroded Coffin, and me and the guys were hoping to do a little something special for our fans this year. Granted, there are maybe five of them total, but still. They deserve a little something special as a token of appreciation for supporting us. Anyway, we wanted to send out a special Christmas card to our friends this year. Maybe include a flier about some upcoming shows in it? It’s still very much in the planning stages. All we know is that we want a really great photo of the whole band to go on the front of the card. That’s where you come in.”

“You want me to shoot your Christmas card?”

“Well, yeah. We don’t want an amateur with a disposable camera doing this. We want it to look good, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re the most talented photographer any of us knows. Maybe the most talented in all of Hawkins. I mean those photos you had in the school art show last year? Magazine worthy. Especially the one of that fort in the woods. It looked seriously haunted in the coolest way possible. Way better than anything anyone else submitted.”

Jonathan was touched. He knew most people only knew him as that freak with the camera, and he’d be lying if he hadn’t assumed that was why Eddie was asking when he first mentioned the card. But Eddie actually knew his work and appreciated it. He wasn’t asked just because he had a camera. He was asked because he had vision.

“How much does the job pay?” he asked.

“We’re not exactly rolling in it right now. Shocking, I know. But we talked about it and pulled our money. We can buy you a roll of film for the project so you don’t have to waste any of your own on us, and then we think we can reasonably afford to pay you for your time with twenty bucks and dinner at Benny’s afterwards. I know it’s not a lot, but it would mean a lot to us if you’d consider it. Plus, you can use the photos you take for any assignment or art show you might have coming up. And, come on.” Eddie gestured to himself. “If this handsome face is in your work, you’ll win all the top prizes for sure."

Eddie was right that it wasn’t a lot, but it was enough that it would make a difference in the quality of the gifts that Jonathan was able to get his mom and brother for Christmas. And if he didn’t have to use his own film, it was a net gain no matter what.

“So, say I agree to do this,” he started. “And I’m not agreeing just yet, but say that I do. What kinds of photos are you looking for?”

“Maybe something goofy and posed with all of us? Or artsy if you prefer. And then maybe a couple photos of us actually playing? We’ve got a Santa hat and some elf hats we were thinking of wearing since this is for a Christmas thing, but wearing them isn’t a deal breaker if you think the pictures would look better without them. Totally willing to defer to the real artistic genius here. I just want the pictures to look good, and you’re the only person I trust to make it happen.”

The idea of creative control was enticing enough to seal the deal for him.

“Alright. I’m in. When and where do you need me?”

“We haven’t settled on a specific day or time yet, but probably sometime this weekend. I’ll talk to the guys at lunch and let you know the plan before the end of the day though. I owe you my life for this. Seriously.”

With that, Eddie was racing off down the hall leaving Jonathan to try and come up with a way to make heavy metal Christmas cards into something appropriate for any of his photography class assignments.

That Saturday afternoon, Jonathan met up with the guys outside of the Hideout. The plan was to do posed photos outside and then go inside to take a few pictures of them playing. As long as they stayed focused on getting the shots they wanted, they'd be done in time for that promised dinner at Benny's.

He didn't think it would take too long, but then again, he didn't really know what working with Eddie would be like. The guy was all over him, and it was more than a little distraction. Eddie just had so many questions about his process, and he wanted to look through the camera and get an idea of what Jonathan was seeing. Or, if he wasn't asking questions, he was touching him. Adjusting a twisted camera strap, placing a hand on Jonathan's back as he leaned in the eye the proposed shot, poking at him to get his attention, grabbing at his arm to pull him over to any place he thought they could get a good photo. If Jonathan didn't know any better, he would've thought that Eddie was into him.

“Come on, Eddie,” he said as he tried to get him to pose properly for what he thought might be their last shot. “Quit it with whatever that brooding, tortured artist look is. You said you wanted something goofy, not sexy.”

“So you think I'm sexy?” Eddie asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Jonathan could feel his face burning.

“Just let me take the picture.”

He snapped a couple more photos in quick succession before putting the lens cap back on his camera.

“I think I got everything you guys wanted out here. Let's take a ten minute break, and then we can set up for the performance shots.”

Jonathan headed inside for a moment alone, but he'd barely sat down before Gareth was joining him at his table.

“You know we didn't need to hire you for this, right?” he started. “Jeff's parents own that hobby shop downtown, and his mom would have lent us a camera for free if we promised not to smash it. A fancy one with a timer so we wouldn't have even needed a photographer to get this done.”

“If that's the case, why am I here?”

“You haven't figured it out yet?”

“Figured out what?”

“You really have no idea. He's about as subtle as a heart attack, and you still don't know.”

“Can you please fill me in so I can make even a little bit of sense of what you're saying?”

“Eddie wanted you to do this so he'd have an excuse to spend time with you and get to know you a little better.”

“And he was willing to pay me twenty bucks for the opportunity?”

“Well, yeah. When he's that into someone, he loses all sense of logic and reason. Even more so than usual.”

Jonathan was stunned speechless. Eddie was into him? Suddenly all of his badgering made sense, and when he really stopped to think about it, the badgering wasn't unwelcome. If he wasn't in the middle of lining up a shot, he could see himself enjoying what was apparently Eddie's attempt at flirting.

“So, why doesn't he just ask me out? It would probably be cheaper than paying me to be your band's personal photographer.”

“He's afraid that you'd say no which I think is stupid because it's obvious how much he gets under your skin.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Dude. Your entire face looked like a tomato after you accidentally called him sexy. Pretty sure that was your subconscious telling you that you're into him, too.”

Jonathan didn't know what to say. Before he'd asked him to do this, he didn't realize Eddie even knew who he was, and now he was facing the very real possibility that he could maybe be into Eddie, too.

“Look," Gareth started. "You don't have to say anything to me or him or anybody. But, if you wanted, I could make something happen. All I ask is that you do a small favor for me.”

“Name it.”

“Put in a good word for me with Nancy?” he asked. “I find her beautiful and terrifying.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

Gareth stood up from his seat and smiled at Jonathan.

“It's been a pleasure doing business with you.”

Their break ended shortly after that, and Jonatham took a series of photos of them playing through two different songs so he could get a variety of different angles for each member of the band. Once he figured he'd gotten everything he needed, he motioned for the band to stop.

“I'm pretty sure I just used up the last of the film you guys brought, so we can call it here. I'll develop everything when I have access to the photo lab on Monday and get the prints to you as soon as possible.”

“We're done?” Eddie sounded more than a little disappointed and he crossed over to where Jonathan was loading his camera back into his bag.

“I think so. But I remember being promised dinner at Benny's as part of my payment, so we could head there now if you want.”

“Definitely. We just need to load up our stuff, and then we can all head out.”

“Actually, the guys and I have a thing,” Gareth said. “And we can't get out of it, so you guys are gonna have to go by yourselves.”

“What thing?” Jeff asked. “We don't have a-”

He was cut off from finishing his sentence by Gareth smacking his arm and pointedly looking back and forth between him and where Eddie was standing with Jonathan.

“Oh! Right!” Jeff said after the realization hit. “That thing. So sad we can't make it.”

“You crazy kids have fun without us!” Gareth said as he ushered the other two bandmates out of the bar.

“I'm going to kill him,” Eddie muttered under his breath, making Jonathan huff out a laugh.

“No, you're not.”

“Oh, but I am. I'm already drafting up posters advertising our need for a new drummer.”

“Go easy on him. He just did you a massive favor.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest.

“How do you figure?”

“He just got you a date with the guy you've been shamelessly flirting with all day.”

Eddie's jaw dropped. He definitely wasn't expecting that response from him.

“I'm pretty sure the guys just left without loading their stuff into the van, so pick your jaw off the floor and let me help you get that taken care of. Then you can flirt with me some more.”

Eddie changed his mind. He wasn't killing Gareth. He was gonna owe him for the rest of his life for helping him earn a date with Jonathan Byers.

[kidcataldo]

Got cyberman 2077 cheap using a few gift cards I got for christmas and

it’s basically a gta game?? like I remember a lot of hype for this before it came out where it was gonna be bigger than anything we’ve seen before (and then it came out and it was basically not finished), but like okay??? this is gta vi, it’s a video game with modern graphics. grow up

what’s with the genitals??? didn’t realize coming into it that it lets you customize your dick (obviously I chose the biggest one, nothing but the best for my v) and you only see it flopping around when you undress in inventory or whatever, what’s the point of it????? Either go all in or don’t go at all,

I wanted so badly to romance judy and realized pretty late in my missions with her that she is not interested in my (well endowed) character and would not be

Romanced Panam instead. She ain’t Judy but whatever, she’s fine. I sent her flowers, she’s my girl. Haven’t finished the game yet, but if there’s an option to join her (and the nomads), obviously yeah I’m joining bc I love her

I’m at the “point of no return” section and I’m just avoiding it, finishing up last minute stuff before I do it. I think it means the main mission is about to end, but I have no idea. Went in blind and am going to stay blind bc, honestly, it’s kind of meh

Like, yeah, it’s good, I’m entertained, but…. idk, seems like maybe they hyped it up too much? Can’t fully appreciate it for what is because of what they promised it was gonna be, you know?

[gremlintiny]

A simple(n't) birthday

~ Everything here is just a work fiction. Every person, place, institution, event and etc. is not a representation of any of the real ones. Written purely for entertainment. ~

Genre: fluff, with bugging ateez members

Warnings: none

Word count: ~2200

A late birthday fanfiction for our Captain, as Christmas draws closer. It will be filled with a little bit of... madness, I might say. Have fun~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another day started in the life of ATEEZ, with gloomy and rainy weather - again. It seemed like they haven’t felt the soothing touch of warm sunlight for ages. Which was unfortunately true. The whole world was strict with its nature, not allowing anybody to feel happiness from a sparkle of a random water droplet in the morning or re-noticing the many colours that are there in their daily lives, although it’s difficult to be always aware of them.

The base was full of joy, though. They decorated the rooms one by one with unique, very unique designs as most of the ornaments were made by them. Did the more talented ones do the majority of it? Definitely not. But everybody tried while having fun and brain damage as well to finish the program in time.

The reason behind this squirmy anthill was their captain’s birthday. ‘After all, it only comes once a year, haha!’ said Wooyoung a few days ago, only to receive seven pairs of eyes’ judging gaze in return. It was true, naturally, but the loud male always repeated this same joke every time a special day came.

When he tried to get a different kind of reaction, he ended up getting shushed by Seonghwa and a very menacing looking pile of clothes in his hands. Truth to be told, most members were frightened as well, even if the threat wasn’t directed to them. At least everybody was quick with their parts of this important job. First and foremost, all of these freed souls wanted to scintillate with their performance and gifts because they adored the man who had to accept the suffocating weight on his shoulder. And he also wanted to fulfil this duty, Hongjoong felt like it was his mission and the reason why he had to be born into this world. The others were determined to help him reach his goal, which became theirs immediately or slowly as time passed.

“Whoever made Christmas trees in November” started off Seonghwa deadly but silently, since he didn’t want to wake up the leader either “I will shove a real one into your ass on the 25th of December.”

Two heads already went pale as a laboratory coat. It only meant that the lioness found his targets a little bit too easily, maybe. Was it their recklessness by being high on this hype train, or was it just a lovely yet dumb joke? Or more likely, an attempt for it?

“Hyung, we just wanted to add some more colours to this event, and Yeosang discovered an old magazine with Christmas specials so we thought it would be fun.” Explained San with pouting lips. He used his trump card he likes so much.

Wooyoung nodded along right away, almost falling off the small ladder he was standing on to put up a bunch of luftballons. “Yeah, exactly! There was even a title which said ‘You can not start preparing for the holidays too early! Come and buy our brand’s top products to really add some spice to that smile! Thunder Whiskey - To become Thor for a moment.’ and we were completely stunned by it!” He probably recited every word perfectly with his dialect filled voice. It was strangely always understandable, despite the fact he was literally disgracing almost each of the phrases with the pronunciation.

The sudden flood of information worked out in their favour as the oldest just threw two snowball imitations at them before going back to setting up the table. The hand-made cake was already on the counter, simple candles ready to be lit and the rare liquor on set. Him, Yunho and Wooyoung worked hard on the dessert. Jongho wanted to take part as well, but he was assigned with the obtainment of the alcohol and the others were simply not allowed to go near for the cake’s safety. Only Mika, when it was time to make the cream and to decorate it because he always had something interesting in his mind. Although not all ideas were… well, acceptable.

After bugging and arguing for around an hour, a well known alarm was heard. Hongjoong’s clock was shrieking to wake the captain earlier than any of the others expected. The last pieces were hurriedly tossed into near their right places as they panicked and got ready in no time to be in formation, as Mingi worded it.

As planned, Mika knocked on Hongjoong’s door, asking him if he could come out. Yet, nobody anticipated that the male would tell the younger one to come into his chamber. The victim looked baffled as he answered in a seemingly careless way ‘yeah sure, what is up?’ while opening the door. The remaining ones were left outside, blinking and with question marks over their heads. Worst thing, they couldn’t eavesdrop on them because of the thick door.

Hongjoong was sitting in his bed, his hair still tangled and curly which clearly showed the other man how long the leader had been up. Mika fought the urge to ruffle his hair as he stopped in front of the black haired male, with a questioning expression on his face.

“I would like to ask a favour from you.” He started off, after munching away the last pieces of his probably fading away or already forgotten dream. Mika only lifted his left eyebrow to this short yet kind of weird sentence. What is he planning?

“Look,” Hongjoong continued. “I think I will be assassinated with pranks and surprises over and over again until fucking midnight and you are the most… well, not normal but… the least dramatic out there? This is why I want you to be my bodyguard for this day - please?”

Mika’s brain was almost sure that the person on the bed said ‘pretty please’ based on the look on his face. Those sweet, demanding puppy eyes. But he had to reject this random free gift opportunity since he had messed up the bunker with the members that morning, although Hongjoong didn’t know about it - yet.

“You should flatter me properly if you want me to accept this job” Mika told him. “At least, next time, for sure, because I have already failed your request, sir. Now, if you would brush your shaggy curls to stop Meduse from reviving and come out with me.” Despite the kind tone and the title ‘sir’, even a dull mind could have told that the blue-eyed man used much sarcasm in his voice. So much that even he wasn’t aware of it.

Poor captain took some last peaceful breaths, sighed at Mika with a dying expression and his little bit pouty lips and stepped outside the door. Where a whole whirl of confetti awaited him, thrown by the flabbergasted people out of pure panic and instinct. And a gesturing, scarily staring pair of light eyes behind the jumpscared man.

Hongjoong didn’t even have the time to spit every piece of paper out of his mouth as the others were already pulling him to the kitchen with ear-killing chirping. It looked like a kidnap from the outside, Mika was pretty sure about it. Or like a show-down of a lynch.

The building was thriving with all these reckless noises and voices the whole day. The celebrated one was right, this madness lasted until the next, 24 hours long time period began ticking. There was even a countdown where Hongjoong was under a pile of men - because of a challenge seen in an old funny article - even including the ‘least dramatic’ one and Hongjoong was only freed when the clock hit 00:00.

“See, I told you it was a good idea to make two cakes! One, for us to push his head into it and one to actually eat it. Haha, and he believed that we would spare his life this time, ah, his face was priceless. Ah.” Wooyoung was holding his stomach with an amused, slightly painful countenance on the couch, more like crawling than sitting properly in one place.

“You were right this time, and I will truly never ever forget the expression he made. Even a cat couldn’t do better.” Seonghwa agreed with him while slowly sliding down from the sofa.

“I’m glad we could take some pictures in the middle of this insanity… They turned out quite well, actually. We will print them out later with Jongho. “ Yeosang quietly murmured this to us with his sleepy, low voice.

“Make sure to send all of them to me as well, I will make a compilation soon out of the best ones~” Yunho said lazily, but the end of the speech turned into a laughter when he noticed a stupored shorter male looking at him from a lower head position. It was meant to be frightening but after he had to suffer through us hugging him, yeeting his face into a cake, us dragging him as a voodoo doll, eight people literally toying with him and etcetera, nobody could take it seriously.

San giggled silently next to the dying Wooyoung on the couch with closed eyes. He looked so drunk even though the amount of alcohol was limited and Hongjoong got most of it to be able to handle us that day. The fine man was just probably out of the zoomie time and had to change into energy saving mode.

“Don’t forget to copy every picture several times or some people might destroy the evidence.” This wise advice came from the steadily sitting Jongho who looked the most content out of them. But his longer blinks and sort of baggy eyes said it all, he went crazier than usual as well.

“Ohoh, we can’t let that happen, now can we?” A smile came from the dazzling oldest one although it was rather creepy. He had a mysterious power that awakened primary instincts in people’s hearts when he wanted them to.

“Ya, Yunho-ya, can you make it into a video? I will write a rap for it-” Mingi had come up with the idea in that instant, then began performing a free-style in the middle of the room. Mika wondered with half-closed eyelids how did he still have so much energy left. A second later, he realised that the tall male will K.O. himself in less than 10 minutes, no matter where he was. It's fine.

“Tidying. Now. Sleep.” Ordered the tortured leader with a raspy voice, from the ground. He stayed there, face lying on the carpet, limbs as powerful as a blue bird in a cage after getting drugged. Mika scoffed, then maybe purposefully failed to hide his laugh with an obviously not real cough while looking at the cat on the floor.

“Bodyguard.” This word was meant to sound as powerful as the previous one, but the small difference in Hongjoong’s voice and the uncovered hope in his irises gave him away. The laughing bursted out of the ‘bodyguard’, he went to scrape him together anyway.

Captain Joong was only walking next to Mika until they reached the dark corridor, where he got stuck in one place. The guardian was confused at first, but as the few centimetres shorter person faked a pretty dramatic concussion, his violent giggles returned and he picked up the silently demanding one onto his back.

Not like it was unusual but the leader’s pride already suffered much from this whole ordeal so he didn’t want to reveal how exhausted he was in front of the crew. Mika delightedly put Hongjoong down onto his nicely made blankets that will be ruined by his dirty clothes in a minute. But who would want to queue for a shower after a rough, eventful day?

“Ah, if only birthdays could last for two days so the others would clean up, wash my clothes, let me take a long, long bath and give me headache-less hours…” His eyelids were intact by then.

“...and a massage, a goodnight kiss on your forehead and-” Even though Hongjoong looked like the sleeping beauty, he tickled Mika’s side to shut him up. Poor man was overly ticklish.

“Ahahah, okay, okay, but if you ask us to do it for you, we might as well just make it happen since we respect you.” The lying one glanced at the sitting man through a thin crack tiredly. “I mean, in general. Sometimes we just have to disrespect you to show our utmost respect.”

Loud laughter was heard in the main room because Hongjoong took his sweet revenge with tickling. The sudden noise startled the ones working there, to at least not leave a literal garbage dump after them, but they exchanged some smug smiles while finishing the job, already thinking about jokes the next day. In the meantime, the remaining two people collapsed in the leader’s room to sleep. A shorter one in the bed and a slightly taller figure on a mattress that was accidentally left there by a certain person in the morning as he heard his members ganging up in front of his door.

- H

[priestofberath]

Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were caught trying to cross the border, same as us, and that thief over there. Fuck I forgot the rest. Uh. Damn you Stormcloaks, if it hadn’t been for you, I would have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief. Shut up back there. Wait, you, you’re Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the rebellion. If they’ve captured you...gods, where are they taking us? Shor, Mara, Dibella, Akatosh, Kynareth-- Divines, help me. Hey, where are you from, horse thief? Why do you care? A nord’s last thoughts should be of home. Rorikstead. I’m...I’m from Rorikstead. Okay I really forgot how it goes after this, fucking, like. Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Vilod still makes that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Imperial walls and towers. It’s funny, when I was a boy, they used to make me feel so safe. End of the line. You’re not going to kill me!! Halt! Archers! Anyone else feel like running? Who...are you. Are you with one of the trade caravans, khajiit? Your kind always seems to get into trouble. What do we do? She’s not in the book. Forget the book, she’s going to the block. Alright. I’m sorry, I’ll make sure your remains are returned to Elsweyr. Uhhhhhh. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn’t use a power like the voice to murder the High King and usurp his throne. You started this war, and now we’re going to end it.  Fuckin. As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you-- Let’s get this over with, I haven’t got all morning. My ancestors are smiling on me, imperials, can you say the same? As fearless in death as he was in life. Next, the cat! What was that? A dragon! Toor...Shul! Gods...everyone, get back! Still alive, prisoner? Follow me if you want to keep that way. Okay yeah I’ve got nothing I forgot how it goes past this point. Fucking Hadvar. It’s like, I always go with the imperials because I always play as either a Khajiit or an Argonian and it just doesn’t seem like it’d make sense to join the Stormcloaks as anything other than a nord, but they tried to cut my head off that one time, you know? I didn’t do anything. It’s not like Skyrim’s border is like, closed. People cross it. That happens. The protagonist just happened to be present during a Stormcloak vs Imperial thing and got caught up in it. Hadvar even said, hey, you’re not supposed to be here. And yet, they try to kill you anyway. For what? You can mention that to Jarl Balgruuf and he’ll just make a comment about not caring about your apparent criminal past. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying I am innocent, have been personally victimized by the Imperial Legion, and want a written apology and maybe a gift card. You want me to help you with the dragons? Give me a 100 septim gift card to the Bannered Mare. General Tullius, fucking get on it, okay? I’ve never done anything wrong. Sure, I have stolen some things, but that’s their fault for leaving cheese wheels out unattended. You’re gonna arrest me over some cheese wheels, nord boy? I’m the dragonborn, and if I am going to have any luck trying to fuck Sheogorath, I need cheese wheels. Get off me.

[therainroguefanfiction]

❧ Be Mine (Saitama) Card

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Valentine’s, Fluff, Comedy ☁

Word Count: 1,592 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Saitama ☁

World: Anime, One Punch Man ☁

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

“I’m home!”

“Welcome back, babe.” You briefly glanced up from the manga in your hands.

Saitama sighed as he set the groceries on the counter.

“Something happen?” You raised a brow, giving him your full attention.

“Why do we have to live in such a peaceful place? I couldn’t find a single villain to take down on the walk home.”

You chuckled. “We live in a peaceful place because you already took out the villains, the criminals, and even the two-bit thugs.”

“So it’s my fault?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

He cocked his head to the side, scratching his cheek. “I’m not gonna get paid much this month.”

“It’s fine. I make enough money for both of us.” You paused, leaning your arm on the table, small giggles leaving your lips. “If you stress too much about it, your hair will never grow back, babe.”

He scowled, balling up a paper towel before throwing it at your head. His aim was off and it hit the wall instead. “Not funny.”

“Then why am I laughing?”

“‘Cause you’re a jerk.”

You gasped dramatically, hand covering your heart. “How hurtful, Sai~!”

He grinned at your behavior, sitting down beside you at the table as he started to look through the pile of mail waiting. A few fan letters for Genos, some hate mail for himself, a couple bills, and several advertisements. “Did you know Valentine’s day is in a few days?”

“Only because everything I want to buy has been covered in pink with hearts.” You scowled, flipping the page of your manga.

Saitama hummed as he looked over one of the ads. It was advertising Valentine’s items on sale, the typical items for the season being flowers, teddy bears and chocolates. “What do you want?”

“Hmm?”

“For Valentine’s.”

“Oh, that. You don’t have to get me anything.”

Reaching over, he flicked your forehead, making you scowl.

“The hell was that for?!”

“It’s the day of love, idiot, I have to get you something.”

“Just get me a card or somethin’.”

He deadpanned, plucking the manga from your hands.

“Umm, Sai? What’re you doing?” Your eyes followed him as he stepped out onto the balcony. Sending you an obnoxious grin over his shoulder, he flung the innocent book over the railing. “I wasn’t finished reading that, you jerk!”

“Tell me what you want or the manga gets it.”

“You’re supposed to say that before throwing it.”

He power walked back into the room, grabbing another book before you could reach it and returning to the balcony. “Tell me what you want or the manga gets it.”

“I haven’t even started that one yet.” You whined, falling back onto the ground as you stared up at the ceiling. “There really isn’t anything I want, Saitama. Having you is more than enough.”

He paused for a moment before shuffling back inside. You grunted loudly when he threw his body on top of your own, using your chest as his own personal pillow. “Fine,” he gave in. “I’ll just get you a card.”

You chuckled, patting his bald head. “See? That wasn’t so difficult now, was it? Now get your superhero ass outside and get my manga.”

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

You frowned, brow furrowed as you walked through the superstore, one that sold a little bit of everything. Since Saitama was dead set on giving you something for the holiday of love, even if it was just a card, you felt it was only fair that you got him something in return. The problem is that you had no idea what to get him.

A watch, maybe? Men liked getting those, right?

Your phone buzzed, alerting you of a new message from your boyfriend.

✉ ‘I see you,’

“Yeah, totally not creepy, Sai.”

It buzzed again.

✉ ‘You’re not allowed to buy me a gift. I forbid it.’

You scoffed, quickly typing a reply. ‘I’m not.’

✉ ‘Then why are you looking at men’s watches?’

Your head whipped around, scanning the area around you. Now that you were paying attention to your surroundings, you easily spotted a bald head sticking out from behind a display nearby. “Saitama, get your ass out here.”

He slowly poked his head around, a dumb look on his face. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Your head was blinding me,”

A tic of anger appeared below his eye and he leaped forward, pulling you into a gentle headlock. You laughed, wriggling free of his grasp and rushing off with him hot on your heels. It took a few minutes of strategic turns and quick ducking, but you finally managed to lose him. Coincidentally, you were now standing in the Valentine’s aisle.

Your eyes scanned the shelves of teddy bears and heart-shaped chocolates. There were heart-themed cutlery and do-it-yourself sweets kits. Nothing really spoke to you, though, until you hit the center of the aisle.

A fox plush, pink and white in color, caught your eye. ‘XOXO♥‘ was embroidered on his stomach in pastel shades of red and pink. Although it was cute in appearance, that isn’t what made you want it. No, you had to have him because of how soft and squishy he was. You had never felt something so soft – it was like the heavens themselves had breathed life into it.

Arms wrapped around your waist from behind and Saitama used your shoulder as a chin rest.

“Can we get this, Sai?” You questioned, holding it to your chest and snuggling your face into it.

He chuckled, his warm breath hitting your ear which caused goosebumps to arise on your skin. “Of course we can,”

You pushed back against him, feeling his arms tighten. “I still want to buy you something.”

His lips pressed against the skin under your ear. “I already have what I want,”

You hummed, a cheeky smile on your face as you broke free of his grasp. “Oh? And what would that be, I wonder~?” You started to walk down the aisle, smiling when you felt his hand slide into your own.

He laced his fingers with yours and looked you dead in the eye. “I wanted a new cape, and I just bought one.”

You scowled, smacking his shoulder with the plush. He chuckled as you pulled him through the store and you both spent the day browsing the items and enjoying each other’s company.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

Saitama’s eye twitched in annoyance as he stared at the large box sitting on the floor in front of him. “I said you weren’t allowed to buy me anything.”

“I clearly did not care and ignored you.” You snickered. “Now open it.”

Scowl in place, he tugged on the ribbon roughly until it fell off the box. When he removed the lid, his eye twitched more violently as he jumped up and chucked the box at the wall. “What the hell is this?!”

You clutched your sides tightly, trying to contain your laughter. “It’s a hahahaha a wig!”

“Why is it pink?!”

“It… It seemed… haha appropriate!” The laughter broke free like water bursting from a dam, sending you rolling across the floor, laughing so hard that your sides started to burn.

He fell back into his previous place, glaring at you. “Are you done?”

It took a few minutes, but you managed to calm your laughter, forcing yourself back into a sitting position. When your eyes met, your laughter completely died. “Oh… you’re actually wearing it…”

Saitama folded his arms over his chest. On top of his head was the neon pink afro you had bought him. “Of course! You bought it for me, so it’s a precious gift.”

“Saitama…” You smiled softly, leaning forward to adjust it on his head. “It looks good on you, actually. When your hair finally grows back, we should dye it pink.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Che, you’re such a buzz kill.”

“Shut up and open your damn card.”

“Fine, fine.” You picked up the deep purple envelope sitting on the table, gently breaking the seal. The card itself was quite simple. It was white in color with a purple border. On the cover was a cartoon ghost, outlined in the same purple. The ghost was frowning, looking quite lonely. You opened the card.

The inside was the same deep purple as the envelope while the text was a soft white. The same ghost from the cover was also on the inside, but he no longer looked sad and he wasn’t alone. Another ghost was behind him, hugging him tightly with a smile. A text bubble sat above the second ghost’s head reading: ‘I’d haunt u 4ever’

There were words written at the bottom of the card in a nearly illegible scrawl belonging to your boyfriend. It read: ‘You’re the love of my life, Y/N. As long as I have you at my side, I don’t care if my hair never grows back. P.S. I’m sorry your manga was eaten by the neighborhood cat. Love, Saitama.’

Your heart felt like it was going to burst with happiness. You gently set the card down on the table before launching yourself at the male and crashing your lips against his. He didn’t hesitate to return the kiss with twice as much passion and ferocity.

“I love you, Saitama.” You breathed against his lips, eyes shining with happiness and love.

His arms tightened around you, his eyes matching yours. “I love you, too.”

“By the way, I didn’t know about the cat. I’m going to kick your ass, that was my favorite manga!”

“I’ll buy you another one – stop hitting me!”

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

If you enjoyed this fic, please like and reblog it so more people can enjoy it, as well. Thanks!

[cinnaminyoons]

( KILL ME AFTER DINNER. )

ミ☆ what do you say to a good drink after a hearty meal?

⤷ PAIRING pjm x m!reader

⤷ WORD COUNT 4.7k

⤷ TAGS vampire!jimin, vampire hunter!reader, blood + blood drinking, drinking/alcohol mention, mention of killing, double entendres galore + suggestive content

⤷ REQUESTED

hii could you write a jimin x male reader one shot where jimins obviously an idol and the reader is his bodyguard? i have no real idea for the plot so that’d be up to u! just smth along these lines

“—our crime correspondent, live from the scene. these grisly crimes have seen a recurrence – is this the work of the first killer, or a copycat?”

“good evening, lisa. the police have brought in some of their best investigators over the past twenty years to search the residence you see behind me. as of yet, they haven’t labelled it as either, though what has been gathered points to the original killer having resurfaced.”

“i understand the case is breaking as we speak, but can you tell us anything that hints towards their motive? we began with the bodies of criminals. now we are seeing our second fairly well-to-do neighbourhood closed off with police tape.”

“sergeant moon released a statement earlier online discussing this. he believes the killings are “for pleasure”, citing a lack of selectivity between victims. he and the authorities plead citizens to abide by the new eight o’clock curfew and to refrain from walking home alone. lisa.”

the anchorwoman thanks him and turns towards the camera, repeating the curfew and its rules gravely. her slim-fitting dress is black and white with a gold belt, wrapping around her torso like a fashionable dressing gown.

the laptop on the stool – a makeshift coffee table – pings rapidly. the screen is full of separate news articles and documents. a folder of crime scene photographs sits open across the keyboard.

your current motel room, at first glance, could be a vagrant’s. there’s a bed and an olive sleeping bag in the corner, a tacky yellow couch, and a small flat-screen television on top of a drawer. the card hanging on the door handle has been saying “do not disturb” for two days.

absently, you toss a hunting knife in the air, catching it by the wooden handle. “i’ve gotten a job as some security guy. got the email soon as i arrived. was that you?”

“bodyguard,” yoongi corrects over the phone. “yeah, that was me. i’m still waiting for your gushing thanks.”

“yoongi, you know i hate these guarding gigs. i couldn’t have been a janitor or something? relatively high turnover, less suspicious, and nobody looks at the janitor.”

“kid, have you looked in a mirror the last – what, five years? seven? to these people, there’s no way someone like you would be a janitor. if you were forty years older, maybe, but not when you’re young and beautiful.”

you sigh and make sure it’s loud enough for him to hear. “taking cleaning jobs isn’t age-restricted.”

“but it’ll get you second glances, which is exactly the opposite of what you want. what normal person would see an intimidating bodyguard and keep staring at them?” papers rustle. “i’ve got other things to do, these bills don’t pay themselves. find your monster, kill it, then call me again.”

“fine. oh, one more thing.”

“yeah?”

“check your mini-fridge. top shelf.”

a slight pause. the clink of aluminium. “oh, yn, you’re a godsend.”

“you’re welcome. safe travels.”

“safe travels.”

he hangs up first, likely off to enjoy his gift.

you toss your phone onto the bed and open the wardrobe near the bathroom. the suit in its cover has yet to see light, as you much prefer the mobility of a simple jeans-and-jacket combo, but you’re thankful that hoseok insisted on measuring you for one anyway. this way, you don’t have to wait another few days for it to be made and dropped off.

pulling the zipper down the cover reveals a tailored suit and a matching tie. a brown shoebox sits at the bottom. you touch the material, getting a feel for how it’ll sit on you.

hoseok had spent half an hour with you beside a book of cloth squares, all different colours and different patterns. you’ve never been especially concerned whether this or that shade of blue matches your skin tone better or if your lapels are notched or peaked, so you put your hands up and left it in the hands of the master.

you spend a moment appreciating the suit. hoseok had spared no expense, as usual.

the clock on the wall reads seven twenty. you have your first meet with the boss at quarter past. with your… contacts, you’d been able to skip past the first few levels of security, which would usually take a newbie several years to pass. you don’t have that sort of time, nor do you think you could stand the work for so long.

it’s for the job, you sigh to yourself as you wiggle the tie into position. you lean against the sink and stare at yourself in the mirror.

the bruise on your cheek has healed over completely. it had been why you had to sit and rot away in the hotel room for so long. can’t make bad impressions.

“it’s just a job trial,” you tell your reflection. “you’ve done those before. you’ll ace it.”

you furrow your brow. you push off of the ledge and shake your head, stepping out of the bathroom. “talking to myself, now? i need a drink…”

—

the job trial, as you’d put it, is the single most godawful thing you’ve ever had to suffer through.

your client is an idol at a fansign event. there’s a big crowd – high hundreds, probably – waiting for their turn to make eye contact with him and later boast to their friends.

for the event, you’re one of the ones on crowd control. far enough away from the client that a newcomer such as yourself isn’t able to pull a one-eighty and hold them hostage or whatever, but close enough to be called important.

it’s all quite ordinary. sure, there’s whispered excitement and an absurd amount of squealing and random ‘i love you’s, but nothing that requires anyone’s help. so, you do what your new boss told you to do: look scary and don’t fall asleep.

at the end of it, fans trickle out happily, chirping to each other about how sweet he was and how he remembered a few from past meetings. you haven’t gotten close enough to tell what he looks like – just that his hair’s platinum blond and his jacket is red and sequinned.

you’re called to the back of the centre with two others: a female driver and a male passenger-seater. they get themselves into the black suv – lots of leg room – and you have the wondrous role of door-opener. but not too soon, you remind yourself as your boss speaks to you through the earpiece, or the temperature of the car will be ruined.

you can spot him a mile away. not because he’s eye-catching like a diamond in dirt, but because there’s a train of black-suited men that precede him. the way they approach and fan out a few metres from you into the front and rear cars is practised and smooth.

you open the door perfectly – just in time for him to slide in without stopping. but he… doesn’t.

he pauses next to you. he’s a dainty little thing, with sweet brown eyes and dangling earrings that catch the light like glass. he tilts his head.

“i haven’t seen you around before.”

his voice is curious. he speaks so softly it is almost a whisper and you have to lean in to ensure you catch his words. the playful smile he tosses you is knowing. he does it on purpose.

you hadn’t been instructed on what to do if he spoke to you. it was assumed you wouldn’t. “first day today,” you say. you wonder how to address him. “sir.”

his smile grows wider. “first time? you seem to know what you’re doing. really handsome, too… how has nobody claimed you yet?”

you blink. “uh – thanks.”

“hm.” slowly, his eyes rake over your figure and he draws his plump lower lip between his teeth. he seems to find particular interest in the knot of your tie. “good luck, cutie. don’t let them bully you.”

with that, he slides into the car with all the grace of a prince. you remember to shut the door after him and step back, watching the cars drive off one at a time.

a hand slaps onto your shoulder. “i think that’s the longest he’s ever chatted with any one of us.”

you’d forgotten there were others here.

“you did good today, newblood. what do you say to an after-work gathering, hm? celebrate a job well done.”

you raise an eyebrow. “wasn’t today quite standard?”

he laughs loudly and slaps your shoulder again, steering you towards a small group of men and women. “oh, yes. we just don’t often get newcomers. what do you say? drinks are on me!”

oh, a drink. after two days of boring sobriety, that sounds heavenly.

—

your client’s name is park jimin. he’s a dancer and a singer, has a very secretive pre-concert tradition, and is twenty-six years of age.

legally.

it’s a month into your new routine. jimin had taken a special interest in you and requested you be promoted to a title where you’d be as physically close as possible – you now accompany him everywhere, from clothes shopping days to dance practice sessions.

during that time, what you’d suspected after your initial meeting had only been cemented. it was too much to be anything else. the mesmerising charisma that had people tripping over themselves, the coveted flawless pale skin, the razor-sharp memory.

but before you can do anything, you must ensure you haven’t been wasting your time.

the backstage staff corridors could not be any narrower. two people can hardly fit shoulder-to-shoulder and it’s lit with bright, metre-long artificial lights. they’re attached to the walls and give the occasional audible pop.

you pass by several dressing rooms on your right, avoiding crashing into people in black clothes by pressing up to the doors. they nod to you as they pass, and you nod back. jimin’s missing and several guards are out searching for him.

something snags the back of your jacket and hauls you into the dressing room.

“there you are,” you say evenly, straightening your jacket. “they want to touch you up one more time. you’re needed in makeup, sir.”

jimin hums as he moves around you, leaning against the door with his hands behind his back. his eyes capture yours, glittering beneath crushed pearl-dusted eyelids.

he blinks up at you, fluttering his eyelashes. “look at me. do you think i need a touch-up?”

if you hadn’t been listening for it, you would never hear the quiet click of the lock.

“that’s what they want. have you been hiding here all this time?”

“yes. this room’s supposed to be inaccessible.” he steps forward. his pure-white outfit sparkles with every movement. “clever, aren’t i?”

“i need to take you to—”

he holds up a hand and smoothly interrupts, “there’s a sentence i like to hear. ‘i need to take you.’ are you going to go through with it, cutie?”

he keeps his eyes on yours as he moves closer, dragging his hands up your sides beneath your jacket. he’s fairly slender, you note as he presses his front to yours. probably doesn’t weigh a lot.

he pushes lightly as he steps forward, and your body follows him silently, arms by your sides. another step and the back of your legs touch the edge of the long table under the mirror.

“that’s it, cutie,” he croons against your throat. his lips brush against your skin and you can’t deny the spark of heat that shudders through you. he tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck. the other hand strokes your side in slow, even stripes. “relax… it’ll hurt less.”

you turn slightly to watch him from the mirror wrapping the room. his rose-pink lips part, revealing perfect white teeth – and long, thin canines drawing down to a dangerous point.

he freezes as the subtle burn of silver presses against his ribs through his clothes. it’s gentle, but the small size of it is disproportionate to the weight it seems to crush him with, pinning him down.

it’s a threat.

“you aren’t affected,” jimin says, his eyes flicking up to yours. his gaze is steady.

“no.” he’s motionless, arms still resting on your shoulders. you incline your head slightly. “apologies. i had to make sure you were one.”

his lip curls. his canines look human – a simple glamour. “a hunter, too? how disappointing.”

“you vampires are tight-knit groups,” you say, ignoring his words. “i’m looking for one. few centuries old, reasonably tall, ginger hair and a beard. powerful illusionist.”

he glares. “i have a concert in five.”

“i spent a month being your chauffeur and delivery boy… surely you can pay me back with this morsel of information. from what i hear, he’s not well-liked in your circles, either.”

“doesn’t mean i’ll give up one of my own,” he snaps. “what stops you from coming after the rest of us after him?”

you shrug and smile, a little mockingly. “i keep my promises.”

his gaze flickers over your features, lingering on the scar that curves over your cheek. “i betray my kind and you give me your word that you won’t kill the rest of us. is that it?”

“smart boy.” the blade shifts and the point begins to slide between the threads of his clothes. a single twitch and he’s going to have a very ugly mark on his skin. “i have no desire to see you all forever six feet under. you can know reason – unlike the one i’m searching for.”

you stand up, no longer leaning on the table, and jimin’s face tilts up to continue his defiant eye contact. “he’s killed your people, too,” you say softly. “he’s betting on the fact that none of you wants to come after kin. this can be to our mutual benefit.”

jimin presses his lips together.

“fine.”

you lift a brow. “yes?”

“fine, i’ll tell you what i know. after the concert.”

you pull the knife away and tuck it back up your sleeve. jimin backs away instantly, crossing his arms over his chest. his eyes follow you as you move across the room.

“good,” you say, and unlock the door. you step aside and sweep your arm towards the hall, inclining your head. “i will drive you home as usual, sir.”

the concert begins and finishes without a hitch. like a well-oiled machine, bodyguards and security feed their client through passageways and back doors until he reaches a black sedan, where you wait inside.

a while later, jimin doesn’t spare a glance at you as he exits the car. you mill about in the car out the front of the white-and-gold hotel until you are called by jimin’s manager – he wants you, she says, up in his room.

the panel to the right of the door has the “do not disturb” light flicked on. fancy. you rap your knuckles on the wood and hear the lock slide out on the other side. it swings inward when you press down on the handle.

jimin lays across the black loveseat with his bare legs tucked up next to him. behind him, the city lights twinkle past a wall of glass so clear you feel as if you can walk through it. the room is big enough to be a small apartment.

between gold-ringed fingers sits a glass of deep ruby liquid. wine, you think wryly, but then he lifts the rim to his lips and it flows thickly down the curve of the glass. no, not wine tonight. something far tastier.

“what’s all this?” you ask sardonically, gesturing to the lamps scattered around. they all emit the same even golden glow, like a romantic candlelit dinner. “all for little old me?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” he humphs, turning towards a small platter of grapes beside him. “i’ve lived in squalor for a long time, thanks to you. i deserve luxury.”

you take a place next to the fireplace – fake, of course – and cross your arms. “what will you do once your youthful looks can no longer be passed off as good genes? return to the slums?”

“i will head off on my military service, then slowly remove myself from the spotlight. i’ll say i settled down, started a family i want to raise in peace.” he closes his lips around a grape. “a few illusions here and there until i can pass as my own son or a blessed doppelgänger.”

“how delightful. now, i believe you had something for me.”

“i want payment first.”

it piques your curiosity. “payment?”

“yes. a favour.” he swirls his glass before setting it down. “like you, i need to eat.”

you nod your head towards the glass. “you seem to be doing perfectly fine by yourself.”

“i’m not a killer, if that’s what you’re insinuating. i have a health condition that requires a hospital check-up every few months.” one arm wraps around himself, pinching the cloth and defining his waist. his fingers press against his bottom lip.

he continues, “i really do like you. level-headed, not too hard on the eyes. while what happened in the dressing room gave me quite the scare, i’m willing to look past it and offer my services for a small price.”

you shift your weight from one foot to the other, no longer resting against the fireplace. slowly, with a dawning awareness, you say, “you want a three-course blood bag.”

“don’t degrade yourself like that.” he’s been moving closer steadily and now places his palm over your chest, playing with the opening of the breast pocket. he drags his nail over your jugular, pressing into it until your pulse throbs against the cool pad of his finger. “i’ve grown attached to you. i won’t kill you.”

“i’m refillable, then.” his finger pauses on your collarbone. “you do understand that this goes against every instinct i have, don’t you?”

“well,” jimin says, “humans are self-destructive by nature.” he smiles, almost a smirk. “so, what do you say, cutie?”

if you agree, and jimin offers what he knows, you could save a lot of your time. depending on what he tells you, you could even gain the upper hand. you could save yourself injuries and end the streak of murders before it grows longer.

the only thing he asks for is for you to go against everything you’ve ever learnt and drop all your defences. hell, might as well roll out a red carpet for him. in such a state, he could make you soft and pliable and tear your throat out without much – if any – resistance.

“what happens if i refuse?”

“you wanted this before. you’re changing your mind so quickly? the big bad wolf can’t stand being powerless, can he?” he pouts, picking up his wine glass delicately by the rim and sliding something long and thin out of the stem.

it’s some sort of dagger – is that diamond? – and he lifts it with a flourish. “i’ll scream for help and they’ll find you standing over my dead body. goodbye monster hunting, and hello jail time. even your little friends would have trouble trying to pull you out of that.”

“you enjoy being a nuisance.”

“i do, yes. more than usual, because you are so fun to rile up.”

he’s good. very good. he let you believe you had sway over him, then flipped the gun and pointed it back at you.

he smiles – the spider who’s caught the fly. his gaze is magnetic, heavy, and promises good things… as long as you play along. “i’ll take my bonus now. jacket off, cutie. i don’t want to ruin such fine craft.”

“i have,” you unbutton the jacket and shrug it off with more force than necessary, “a name.”

“not one that i care for. after tonight…” he giggles softly, loosening your tie and devouring each sliver more of skin revealed to him. “i’ll be calling you mine.”

—

jimin is insatiable once you start. he refuses to give you anything until you’ve paid for it first, and once you do, he offers one at a time like a casino dealer meticulous about stacking dealt cards.

night one: he works alone.

night two: he conducts his business near the port.

night three: he spends a lot of time in bars.

it’s not until the fourth night that he gives you a name. goes by ‘vaughn’. you probably wouldn’t have gotten it until at least the seventh day if you hadn’t been especially persuasive.

while the news anchors can have something good to finally tell their viewers, you can’t be sure you needed all of his information to do so. you’ve certainly completed jobs on less...

but – all in a night’s work. washed blood and brick dust out of your hair for ages. soon enough, you’ll be on the road again.

despite your reserves, jimin is always very careful about how he goes about taking his payment. you never feel dizzy or fatigued when you pull your jacket back on, and most of the time you don’t have to change clothes once he’s done with you.

he does, however, have a special fondness for you in white shirts.

“change, go change,” he says, pushing you towards the bathroom. “roll your sleeves up, i want to celebrate our victory and teamwork.”

there’s a white dress shirt waiting for you on a hanger on the back of the door. looking closer, you can discern the paisley on it. you’re not exactly sure why he’d chosen a pattern tonight – to match his own charcoal jacket and black lace choker, perhaps?

nevertheless, you put it on, laying your own near the sink. you leave the collar open and step out of the bathroom, flattening the folds of your sleeves.

“there he is,” he purrs. “your heart’s beating faster tonight. am i finally breaking through your stone-cold facade?”

“it isn’t a facade.” you watch as jimin reaches up and undoes another button of your shirt, creating a deep v that he traces lightly with his fingertips. he sighs appreciatively.

“isn’t it? ah, denial over attraction – men like you are my favourite.”

“i’m not in denial about that.”

“so you do think i’m pretty.”

“stop twisting my words.”

he giggles and pushes you back onto the loveseat. as if it’s second nature, he swings his leg over your thighs and takes a seat on your lap, brushing his glinting hair out of his dark eyes. he wears eyeliner tonight, sharp as a knife and twice as fatal.

your body stiffens as he brings his lips to your ear, his weight shifting forward.

“listen to yourself,” he murmurs, breath fanning your neck. it makes your skin prickle, cold and uncanny as it is. “oh, you’re just the cutest thing. i haven’t even done anything to you yet.”

the lashing words die in your mouth as he takes your hands and slides them down his body, laying them to rest at his hips. he bites his lip to hide his smile as your heart beats hard beneath the cage of your ribs.

his fingers brush the side of your neck. he wears a silver full-finger ring, ending in a curved claw like a dragon’s. it’s silver in colour, but it doesn’t leave an irritated red mark where it touches his skin – platinum, maybe.

the claw grazes the side of your face beneath your eye. curiously, it follows the thin scar that sweeps over your cheek towards your ear.

clean edges, widest in the top third, tapered ends. something sharp made it as it swung down.

“let’s try something new,” jimin says, excitement glimmering in his eyes. “let me kiss you.”

your head turns sharply towards him. “what for?”

“don’t be so sour. i want this to be fun for both of us, not just me.” he wriggles in place and you suck in a sharp breath. “you’re so still it feels like you’re dead. you’re allowed to touch me, you know?”

you mutter, “have i not already ‘paid’? feel like i’m giving more than i’m receiving.”

jimin laughs, pressing your foreheads together. “i’m sure you’re talking about the fact that you’re all mine. feeding me, protecting me, falling in love with me—”

“i’m not in love with you.”

“not yet. i wonder how you feel,” he says thoughtfully, “falling from grace like this. came to kill, stayed for love.”

you close your eyes. “are you going to drink or not? it’s strange how much time i spend here at night as it is. i don’t even work with you anymore.”

“teasing you makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. besides, no one will think to stop us – i can be very compelling.” he uses the claw on his index finger to tilt your face up, his hungry gaze clashing with yours.

he continues softly, “you do not have to play your games in front of me. i gave you fragments of information and you gave me everything i wanted for them, despite being arrogant, self-fulfilling, and more than capable of extracting what you wanted out of me in more forcible ways. you enjoy my company – that much is obvious.”

jimin’s encountered your type before – men who are detached and stubborn – but all the others sputter and argue with his passive observations. instead, you only sink back into the loveseat, shifting leisurely into a more comfortable position. all the while, your eyes remain trained on his.

“and you could get rid of me with ease now that i no longer have you at knifepoint. you, too, choose to welcome me back each night.”

“human blood so fresh from its source is a delicacy i seldom indulge in.” soft, cold lips press to the corner of your mouth, teeth teasingly catching on your bottom lip. “vampires are opportunistic hunters. when someone with the most addicting blood comes waltzing in and allows me to drink as i please, who am i to say no?”

playing with you is fun, but jimin is hungry. starving, even.

your breath hitches as jimin’s sharp teeth sink into your throat. a soft noise, like the coo of a dove, escapes him as he tilts your head and gulps down mouthful after mouthful.

the piercing phantom feeling of his fangs in your neck stings hotly – near burning. his hand slides down your jaw into the dip beneath the bone, where your pulse thuds heavily, and applies a gentle pressure. his thumb runs over your throat in soothing circles, and despite yourself, you find your muscles relaxing, eyes closing, hands drifting to his thighs…

his pink tongue runs over pillowy lips stained red. he draws away reluctantly and your skin burns ice-cold as the two round wounds begin to seal over, a stopper to the bleeding.

you aren’t entirely sure how it works, nor do you know if it is an ability all vampires have. there are more pressing matters at hand, however – like the fact that the pair of marks are healing slower than usual, and the blood seeps into the white cloth of your shirt, blooming like a flower on the battlefield.

jimin’s eyes glitter in the semi-darkness, half his face bathed in shadow. he smiles, sharp canines and all, and he strokes the blood-soaked collar of your shirt.

“such a waste… and so pretty. the red makes the patterns pop.”

he’s pretty, too. not in the way most vampires you’ve met are, though. glamorous and prideful, yes, but he lacks a certain… cruelty.

jimin tastes like red grapes and copper. they’re soft beyond imagination, partly in thanks to his vigorous moisturising routine. he reacts quickly, tilting his head and snaking his arms tighter around your shoulders, and his mouth curls into a pretty smirk as he returns the heat of the kiss ten-fold.

his lips, pulled back, expose his teeth. you press harder against him. your hands don’t do what you want them to do. you jerk in reflex as his fangs clip your lower lip, and red spills over.

his small, snowy hands cup your cheeks, sighing contentedly as he steals a taste. a breathy gasp escapes him as his back hits the loveseat, gazing up at you with those deceptively innocent eyes.

he giggles, tongue swiping over his lower lip as he plays with your buttons and touches the clawed ring to your skin, under which your traitorous heart hammers.

“i knew it,” he breathes, looking, for once, shy. “it seems you’re in love with me, after all.”

[wincore]

romeo roulette | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

summary: if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.

genre: soulmate au, office au, fake dating, fluff (a lot), angst (a little), romcom, magical realism (??)

words: 21.2k

warnings: language

song recs: playlist here !

a/n: behold ! a kdrama compressed in a fic ! ok i was lying there was more than a little angst but all in good fun <3 i have never experienced working in an office (thanks to the panny) but i tried making it as accurate as i could !! hope you have fun with this <3

It’s not that you’ve never been looked at with a lover’s gaze, it’s just that whatever look Jaehyun has been giving you is mildly uncomfortable. It’s not supposed to be that way. Hell, even his hand clasping yours are a little too clammy for your liking.

Jung Yoonoh. Get your act together.

You wish he were a better actor than this. For someone used to eyes on him in each and every room he’s in, he’s not very good at making eye contact. You’ll be saving this performance. Not to stroke your own ego but at least you know how to behave under strong gazes.

There are three people staring at the two of you and your fingers intertwined, scrutinizing your postures and the expressions on your faces. Maybe Jaehyun should face them instead of glancing at you wordlessly. He’s a terrible liar for someone who acts so smooth. 

You look up with a short smile. The aforementioned three are your coworkers—former class rep at uni and your current boss Doyoung, your friend Soojin and Jaehyun’s friend Sicheng from IT. None of them look happy—like it concerns them. If there was a competition for nosy coworkers, this entire group would be winning awards left and right (and that’s including you). 

They’re going to find out, an annoying voice giggles inside the quiet corner of your brain. Like hell, they will. You didn’t take up acting lessons in college for nothing. You just need to focus on the details.

This whole charade dates its beginning to a week ago. 

If someone were to tell you Jung Yoonoh from marketing is your soulmate, you would most certainly either laugh or take it as a genuine insult. Hence, you were glad when you found that he isn’t. 

It was an accident. You had glimpsed at his soulmark, right below his collarbone, at a particularly wild office afterparty—and somehow, you thought it was fitting that his tattoo was a little red heart. For someone born on Valentine’s day (which you know from a night out with coworkers, not because you’re remotely interested), if his soulmark was not something as disgusting as a heart, it would be the textbook definition of irony. But then again, fate is a funny thing. Your soulmark is a heart roughly the same size, with a little more intricacy in the form of a piercing arrow.

Despite all, however, if someone were to ask you if Jung Yoonoh is the worst person to be your soulmate, the answer is no. You can name at least five coworkers off the top of your head that you’d choose him over. You would choose him over Doyoung (and especially his nagging), you would choose him over Taeyong because he’s too hot and you also don’t like men in a higher position than you are, you would choose him over Jungwoo because you suspect he’s secretly a furry. Jaehyun is certainly better than your deskmate Dongmin who, despite an angelic smile, is: a) too distant to make actual conversation with, and b) in a relationship despite being your soulmate. Sweet-tempered Dongmin doesn’t even know it’s you. You’d love to be the bearer of bad news but this one—you’re not exactly ready for it yourself.

So that’s the explanation for why you hunted down Jaehyun and in a desperate attempt to not seem pathetic, coerced him into a role that has carefully picked benefits for either of you. You just have to bite the bullet sometimes.

“And I get what out of this?”

“Me? Temporarily, that is.”

Jaehyun laughs in amusement and you drop your smile, almost offended. If you were a gift, you’d certainly be an attractive, spicy, hot one—he doesn’t have to look at you so incredulously. In a neat business suit, Jaehyun is as kempt as ever though his tie could do with some more work.  As an HR assistant, his appearance pleases you. However as a person, the perfection annoys the hell out of you. He could show himself to be more human. It would make your job (both the actual and the metaphorical) easier.

“I’m leaving,” he announces with a nonchalant exhale. “You keep messing around during work hours like this and people are going to think you’re jobless.”

“Wait!” 

You jog up to him and block his path, crossing your arms as you huff at his indignance. 

“I said no,” he repeats, and when he tries to evade you, you push him back with your palm flat against his chest. Jaehyun doesn’t show any more discomfort than usual, biting the inside of his cheek.

“You haven’t found your soulmate, right?” you say, taking a deep breath. If you have to resort to psychological warfare, so be it.

His smile wavers and he straightens, no longer leaning against the printer desk. “No. How does that matter?”

“It matters because you’re going to be my pretend-soulmate. Now, don’t be a pussy.”

He opens his mouth and closes it, furrowing his eyebrows. “You can’t always trick me into doing what you want.”

“I’ll ask Doyoung if you say no.”

“See—enough with the tricks, they don’t work anymore. I’ve known you for two years.”

“I really will ask him.”

“Not convincing enough. You don’t even talk to Doyoung outside work.”

You groan into your hand, taking a few moments to come up with another plan. How is your obvious charisma not enough? You certainly can’t tell him how rejected you feel with the whole Dongmin situation even if his rejection hasn’t officially come yet. It’s too embarrassing for a grown adult to go through. You don’t mind being lonely for the rest of your life if you’re successful. There’s a price tag on each decision you make anyway.

“I’ll treat you to lunch every day. I’ll pay.”

You cross your arms, tapping your foot in anticipation. They say the way to a man’s heart is through the stomach. Besides, Jaehyun hates spending his lunch money on himself. This ought to do something.

Jaehyun places his hand in front of his mouth in mock surprise. “Oh no, out of your beloved paycheck? That’s kind of scary, honestly.”

“Jaehyun. Stop messing around. I’m being serious.”

He purses his lips, hesitation across his face. You don’t like the way he thinks, with quiet, lost eyes and no clear giveaways on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

You smile in relief though you try somewhat to not let it show on your face. 

“On one condition.”

Your eyes dart across his face, nothing that tells what he might suggest next. You hate when you don’t get to decide on things.

“You have to come visit my family next month and pose as my soulmate—”

“No way.”

“—and when this whole game you’re playing is over, you’re going to say I rejected you.”

You stare at him, weighing the odds. 

“Fine,” you say finally, voice pitched in slight annoyance.

Jaehyun shrugs.

“But I tell my parents that I rejected you. Or they’ll come after you with a task force or something.”

You mutter the last part.

He grimaces, holding his breath for a good few seconds and then letting it go.

“Alright. It’s not like mine and your parents know each other—or will ever meet.”

“Fine then,” you say. “We have an agreement.”

“We have an agreement,” he repeats.

Now, back to more pressing matters. The people in front of you aren’t a stupid lot—even if you've seen Doyoung spend $500 on plush toys, seen Sicheng absentmindedly walk into a desk and pretend to not be in pain for the next five minutes and Soojin somehow convinced a senior to get her coffee because she thought he was an intern (in her defence, it worked). 

The only way is to act through. You clear your throat.

"We… we discovered it last week. Our signs match."

Technically, you drew an arrow with a permanent marker over Jaehyun's tattoo in an attempt to resemble yours. It's not awful, but perhaps not perfect. 

“Discovered? Like just happened to find out?” Doyoung asks.

“Isn’t Jaehyun’s on…” Soojin leans in to whisper hurriedly in your ear. “On his butt? Did you guys sleep together?”

You contort your face in disgust. “The what? What? Who told you that? And no.”

Soojin makes an ‘ah’ sound and leans back. “I should stop listening to office rumours then.”

"You should." You glare at her.

Sicheng is the only one without questions at the tip of his tongue but the look on his face worries you most. 

“I’ve never seen your tattoo, now that I think about it,” he muses, turning to Jaehyun. “Although we’re roommates.”

Jaehyun clears his throat, looking around with shifty eyes. "Why is… why is everyone looking so suspicious?"

"It's just… so sudden," Soojin says, looking around at the others.

"Yeah," Sicheng mutters.

"Soulmate fraud is a big deal too, you know that right?" Doyoung informs. "You could get put in jail."

You throw up your hands in exasperation. "Why would we pretend? We don't have any reason to. And, uh, you're sure about the jail thing?"

You look at Doyoung, hoping your question didn’t come off too squeaky. 

"You’re right,” he says, sighing. “It’s so unlikely for soulmates to work in the same company, let alone the same building.”

“Oh, yes, I’m so lucky,” you mutter under your breath.

Doyoung sighs. "Look, we're happy for you. It's just that… it's a little sudden."

"Literally what I just said," Soojin says.

"Literally what she just said," Doyoung agrees quickly, not wanting to pick a fight. Sometimes you wonder who the real boss is.

"Look, just because we don't even acknowledge each other or find each other remotely attractive or wouldn't even be each other's office Christmas card candidate—"

Jaehyun nudges your side with his elbow and gives you a look that seems a lot like "You're making it worse".

You clear your throat. "That's what happens to most soulmates! You think you're going to land the perfect one and boom. You get a chump from marketing."

Jaehyun makes a sound of protest. "I didn't want a snob from HR either."

The two of you glare at each other, and you find that clenching his jaw makes Jaehyun slightly (around 0.05%) more attractive, or at the very least more bearable to look at.

Doyoung gasps. "Okay, I get it. You're having adjustment issues. I know a guy for that. He's helped every newly found soulmate couple adjust with each other."

"We don't need that," you interrupt, offering your fakest smile.

"You do," Doyoung responds, his smile equally fake. "I'll drive you this weekend if you're free. He’ll give you one free session. No more, because we all know how capitalism works."

People have got to stop copying your fake smile. You wish you could have it copyrighted because after all, it’s the same smile that tricks interviewees into thinking they got the job. It’s not evil if you say it isn’t. You open your mouth, look at Jaehyun doing the same and when you can't come up with an excuse, give up and nod. 

"Don't look so resentful," Doyoung says, tone slightly complaining. "I'm not doing this as your boss. We were friends in college and I'm just doing you a favour. A friendly favour."

Soojin hums in deep thought. "I feel like this is some sort of nepotism."

"I feel like you should open a dictionary once in a while," Doyoung mutters, only to get a vaguely threatening look from Soojin.

"Anyway," Sicheng diverts, eyes curious when he turns to Doyoung. "Why did you call us here?"

"Ah." Doyoung's eyes widen. "I heard promotion rumours."

Sicheng lets out a loud huff of annoyance. "You summoned us here for company gossip?"

Doyoung crosses his arms. “So, you’re not interested?”

“Who said that?” Sicheng responds quickly, leaning in.

The five of you huddle closer in a circle, looking as conspicuous as a cult. 

“You guys know that Jinyoung’s leaving, right?” Doyoung starts.

Soojin gasps audibly only to get a smack on the arm from Doyoung. “Why’s he leaving? He's like employee of the month every month. ”

A few chuckles pass through the group at her discontentment from months of losing out on the title.

“I heard he found his soulmate. Lucky ass gets tax benefits too now,” Sicheng complains. “Why is he leaving?”

“Oh, look who’s interested in gossip now,” Soojin coos.

Sichengs turns red in the face and looks away, clearing his throat. “You’re gonna answer my question, Doyoung?”

“Oh! Right.” Doyoung looks up from a text. “He got rejected by his soulmate.”

Soojin covers her mouth this time when she gasps and you can’t say your jaw doesn’t drop as well. 

“Rejected? Like our picture-perfect Jinyoung got rejected?” you repeat, trying to process the information. “Please don’t tell me he decided to be an idiot and sign a mutual rejection.”

“No, he didn’t lose his senses,” Doyoung responds with a duh undertone. “He’s getting the compensation money.”

You sigh. “Man, I feel bad for him.”

Jaehyun hums in agreement. There’s a hush over the group and you feel fear rise in your chest. You don’t want to be rejected. You’ve seen how happy Dongmin looks with his girlfriend—he’d reject you in a heartbeat. Of course, you could just receive the compensation money from the one-sided rejection and get it over with but you refuse to. It hurts to not be wanted. It hurts to not be wanted by someone who’s supposed to want you. To be specific, it hurts your pride. Every time you see the damn arrowed heart on Dongmin’s wrist, which he tries so hard to cover with his watch, you feel like throwing up. You’re glad yours isn’t as easy to spot—resting right above your hip bone.

“Anyway, someone’s getting promoted to that HR specialist position.”

You gasp. “Is it me? It’s me, right?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes and you elbow him. “What’s with you?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he says, shrugging. “Isn’t it stupid to get your hopes up over a rumour?”

Doyoung breathes out. “Wow, (name) really sucked the life out of you, Jaehyun.”

You glare at him when Soojin breaks into a fit of laughter. “You- you know what that- you know what that sounds like, right?”

Your face contorts into disgust and you shake your head. “Let’s be more professional, alright, Soojin?”

She clears her throat and straightens her clothes, like a teenager being reprimanded. “I’m your senior. It’s embarrassing when you say that to me.”

Jaehyun speaks up and turns to you. “I think lunch break is almost over.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So?”

“You’re forgetting something.” He smiles, dimples showing, but his eyes come off menacing.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You forgot about that stupid lunch promise. 

“Hey. Professional,” Soojin warns.

You groan and link your arm through Jaehyun’s, making him bite back a smile. What is it with men and getting weirdly happy about lunch?

“We’re gonna go get lunch,” you announce.

“Ooh, (name)’s ditching quality time with coworkers for dates now,” Soojin coos.

You roll your eyes and exit the office, stopping to wait in front of the elevator.

“I think that went well,” Jaehyun says, shrugging lightly.

“Shh. What if they hear us?”

“Do you think they’re X-men? We’re a long corridor and closed doors away.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Still…”

Jaehyun’s smug smile makes you want to smack it right off and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt this way with him. You swear he’s not as bad as some of the guys you’ve met but Jaehyun is simply annoying. An A grade nuisance. You can trust him though. If Soojin says he’s a reliable guy, you’ll believe her—she doesn’t bluff when it comes to seeing right through men, though she does have a tendency to believe stupid rumours.

“Your acting was shit though,” you snipe.

Jaehyun lets out a low sardonic laugh. “At least I was subtle when I was messing up.”

You cross your arms and huff. “You know what? You can take the next elevator ride.”

“Huh?”

You step into the elevator just as the doors open and quickly jam your finger to the close doors button. The look of betrayal on Jaehyun’s face is subtle but it’s enough to satisfy you. As the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens—it’s very applicable to elevators. He can take the other one.

However, almost immediately after, the elevator doors open and you groan, opening your mouth to send a sarcastic congratulations to Jaehyun for pressing the button on time.

Your words hitch on your tongue. Dongmin greets the two of you with a smile, standing beside Jaehyun, who has his eyes averted from you.

“Hey,” Dongmin greets. “Congratulations. I heard the news.”

“Thanks,” you croak, clearing your throat with a bit of heat on your cheeks. Jaehyun looks like he might burst into a fit of laughter any moment and you shoot him a subtle glare.

“Where are you headed to?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m going to grab a sandwich from the cafeteria.”

“We’re also headed to the cafeteria,” Jaehyun declares, with a smile that’s almost devilish.

“No, we’re not,” you say quickly, making Dongmin raise an eyebrow. You hold back a groan. If only Dongmin weren’t raised to be the politest man you know and a little bit more of an asshole. 

You hum and turn to Jaehyun. “I told you about that new cafe. Remember, honey?”

Dongmin makes an ‘o’ with his mouth. “Nicknames, already? Ah, I’m so jealous. It must be great to get along with your soulmate.”

Oh, the sweet summer child that Dongmin is.

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “Oh, won’t it take too long, darling? We have—”

He makes a show of checking his Rolex, a gift he received from his superior that he spares no chance to flex.

“—Around ten minutes left.”

You hold back a groan and plaster on your smile. “Come on. Now is the best time.”

“That sounds like a load of—”

You elbow Jaehyun hard in the gut and a restrained sound dies in his throat, eyes widening in the sweet look of discomfort taking over his features. You smile triumphantly and turn to Dongmin with an immediate change of expression.

“I’ll see you in office later,” you say, bowing slightly.

Dongmin nods and gets off on the fifth floor. You watch in quiet relief as the elevator door closes and turn to your dear companion, irked.

“Did you have to do that?” Jaehyun asks, voice raspy with pain.

“You deserved it. Don’t you dare make this a bigger mess than it already is.”

“You came up with it.” Jaehyun straightens, finally. Apart from the few loose strands of his neatly parted hair, he doesn’t seem all that disgruntled.

“And we’re going to set some ground rules,” you declare, closing your arms.

Jaehyun straightens to his full height, the space between the two of you diminishing. 

"Okay," he agrees. "Then we both get a say in it. It's a contract, after all."

"Fine. First rule, no being weird around Dongmin."

Jaehyun chuckles. "I think you need to be more careful about that than I do."

You pat his cheek. "Focus. Just don't- don't be around him for too long."

Jaehyun purses his lips. "Why are you so uncomfortable around him? I thought you were doing this because you didn't want to reject him."

You glance away, feeling uncomfortable. "It doesn't matter. I just don't want him to know."

Jaehyun hums. "Fine. My turn. No calling me a chump."

Your cheeks puff up as you try to contain your laughter. "It bothered you that much, huh?"

Jaehyun furrows his brows. "No one's ever called me that before. It's always 'oh my god, he's so handsome, who is he?' or 'ooh, I might faint from how hot he is'."

You giggle. "Alright, handsome."

Jaehyun exhales, his puffed cheeks making him look like a resentful five year old instead of a grown man with a professional job. You pause before you get back on track.

“No nicknames,” you blurt. “It’s weird when you call me something endearing. And your flirting feels kind of threatening.”

“What do you mean, baby?”

“See! You’re doing it again.” You cross your arms at the look on his face; anything close to victorious over Jaehyun’s features is unbearable to you.

He raises his arms in exasperation. “How are we supposed to make this work if we act like we don’t care about each other. Guess why Doyoung’s taking us to couple therapy?”

You huff, slightly pissed off. “You’re saying it was my fault?”

“I’m saying we could have avoided that with better acting.”

“You think you’re so—”

The elevator door opens with a ding on the first floor and you turn to find a bunch of interns back from their lunch break. It would be much less of an awkward affair if you and Jaehyun weren’t well into each other’s personal spaces, noses almost touching and with a mutual glare which could be easily mistaken for a look of something more sensual. You jump away from Jaehyun and leave the elevator as fast as you can, feeling far too conscious of yourself. With long strides, you exit the corporate airs of the building to a sunny, fairly populous sidewalk. 

Jaehyun catches up to you, bending and trying to catch a glimpse of your face with an incredulous smile over his.

“Don’t say a word, Yoonoh.”

“Ooh, you’re saying my name now.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I find it plenty funny.”

“That’s because of your trash sense of humour.”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look so smug.”

Mondays are the days that make you want to scream in agony, not Thursdays—though they are pretty high up on the worst days of the week list. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe pretending to be in love with someone you simply cannot be in love with is an awful idea. 

Soulmates don’t need to be in love with each other, you think to yourself. There’s plenty of soulmates who are just in it for the financial benefits; you can just pretend to be one of them. This dilemma is starting to fray your nerves and Jung Yoonoh, with his lax disposition and dimpled cheeks, is making it worse. And to top it off, you now have to take him to your favourite (kind of secret) cafe in the name of the lies that slipped your tongue. It was supposed to be a quiet comfort spot for you.

You blow a puff of air out and dismiss the thought. Comfort spots aren’t real anyway when you’re all grown. There’s bound to be a breach. 

However, you will not let the (lacking) romance department of your life get sorted out by someone who doesn’t even know you. Lady luck would be an acquaintance to you at most. If fate is a game of chance after all, you might as well be the one spinning the roulette. You look at Jaehyun, piecing together the perfect plan for this seemingly frivolous play-pretend. The game is in your hands now. 

You blink at the figure of Jung Yoonoh under February sunlight on a modestly busy sidewalk. It’s not something to be surprised at—however, the stark contrast in attire makes you stare longer than you intend to. Wearing a black graphic hoodie and pair of worn out jeans, Jaehyun looks about as casual as you can bear. It’s always weird to see coworkers out of formal clothing.

“Are you just going to stare at me till Doyoung comes and picks us up?” he asks. 

You roll your eyes. 

“You look nice,” he says, and you glance down at your outfit with a flush of heat over your cheeks. It’s just a short A-line skirt, stockings and a sweatshirt. This is as basic as you get. What’s worse is that his comment didn’t sound sarcastic.

“You- You look nice too. I guess.” Once in a while, you will say something extremely stupid and pretend it never happened. The frequency increases around Jaehyun for some damn reason.

“You guess? I’m pretty sure I look more than nice.”

“And how long did you look at yourself in the mirror and practise catchphrases this time?”

Jaehyun’s ears turn the shade of cherries and you press down your smile. You knew that time you caught him talking to himself in front of a car window would play to your advantage. 

“What’s that you’re holding?” you ask, eyeing the plastic bag he’s holding.

“Ginseng,” he answers, staring blankly at the cars passing by. “I heard the couples therapist is in his sixties so he might find it useful.”

“Oh, old people stuff,” you muse quietly. “That’s quite thoughtful of you.”

You should’ve brought something, you think for a moment before realizing that couples probably don’t give separate gifts. 

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

You shake your head. “Anyway, we might as well kill some time. Twenty questions. Let’s go.”

He laughs. “What are we, in college?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Don’t make us sound like we’re thirty. I bet you’re the kind of guy who has his retirement plan figured out.”

“Wrong,” he emphasizes, face leaning closer. 

“Fine. I’ll start the questions, you unsalted block of butter. How many relationships have you been in?”

Jaehyun opens his mouth and closes it, ears turning red. “That’s your first question?”

You roll your eyes. “Okay. I’m guessing it’s single digit and on the lower side.”

He rolls his eyes. “How many relationships have you been in?”

You shut your mouth. There’s a moment of silence, a breeze passing you by, carrying winter away in its arms to make room for spring. 

“Never found a relationship worth it,” you mutter, glancing away. 

Jaehyun hesitates before opening his mouth. “Me neither.”

“Good thing for us, eh? Love makes people crazy.”

Jaehyun faces you with a clipped smile. Never did you think Jaehyun from marketing would be relating to you on a personal matter.

“Oh, but I’ve had enough hookups and I can bet you’re mediocre at best in bed.” 

Jaehyun glares at you. “I am not and I can prove it to you.”

“Is that an invitation into your bed? No, thanks.”

He opens his mouth to retort but is interrupted by the Hyundai Grandeur pulling up to the sidewalk and rolling down the driver window to reveal Doyoung. He looks as overworked as usual, but his eyes are more tired, a bit of makeup covering the dark circles. You’ve heard his soulmate is a makeup artist for an idol group and wonder how they even came to be. Does fate throw darts randomly and pick its choice?

“Get in. Quick,” Doyoung instructs. “I have to drop you off and head home. My family is visiting. I didn’t even get a warning and they think I’m in a gay relationship with Taeyong because we still have our friendship rings from college.”

You want to laugh and agree but Doyoung looks rather pissed off so you hold it in. The two of you do as told, getting in the backseat and shutting the doors in sync. The car smells rather leafy mingling with the scent of fresh clothes and you eye the jar dangling from the rear-view mirror. You open your mouth to ask what scent that is when Doyoung’s voice rings out.

“What’s that?” Doyoung signals to the bag with Jaehyun.

Jaehyun looks down. “Ginseng extract.”

“Oh, the gift pack?” Doyoung asks. 

Jaehyun nods and Doyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “If that’s for Mr. Lee, forget it. He hates gifts. Something about inward appreciation and shit.”

Jaehyun groans, massaging his forehead. “What do I do with this then? Is this guy a priest?”

“Give it to Doyoung,” you suggest. “His family’s visiting.”

You hear an audible hum of approval from the driver seat and turn to Jaehyun making a face of reluctance. Maybe he isn’t so magnanimous after all, you think smiling.

“You’re both quite tame today,” Doyoung remarks, just when the silence is starting to swallow the inside of the car. “Makes me wonder if you need Mr. Lee after all.”

“We actually don’t…” You shake your head. “We’re here and it’s free so why not?”

Jaehyun shoots you a questioning look. It’s not like you can cancel when you’re in Doyoung’s car and already on the way. You’ve known your boss long enough to know the wrong answer to his questions. You look outside at Seoul streets and sigh. 

Jaehyun looks at you, your focus elsewhere and wishes this would end already. He has no idea what overcame him to accept your ridiculous offer but he must be just as ridiculous. At the very least, he finds you quite lovely to look at—not that he’d ever admit it to you. The foundation to this weird bickering friendship (if he can call it that) would be ruined by that. His ego, however, has been boosted up a few notches from the fact that you called him for help. He looks outside the window, holding back a smile. It’s a sunny day.

The therapist, Mr. Lee’s office building is a fancy one with an even fancier lobby. Baby pink leather couches cushion your bum nicely as you wait for your appointment. The architecture is that of a corporate firm and you feel quite at home with the large glass walls by the revolving door. This therapist guy must be rich as hell. The receptionist wears a formal uniform; her blouse is light pink with a grey pencil skirt and you like the look of it. You wonder if asking her where she bought it is time-appropriate. More couples sit around you and you, unfortunately, have to scoot closer to Jaehyun as a result. You do not want to catch that disease they all have. Why are they even here for therapy if they’re smiling at each other in that sickly enamored way? 

Now that you’re here, you’re starting to feel that this arrangement was ill-decisive. You should’ve done a better job of acting. You wonder if you can get a refund for that college course on acting, pouting as the ticking wall clock gets on your nerves. Even the marble floors are pink; the walls are mahogany red and there’s a heart-shaped wall clock, and should you glance around more, you’re going to nauseate yourself. This guy certainly takes his job seriously—or just really likes pink-red themes.

A woman in her early thirties exits the elevator and announces your names, and you click your tongue at the fact that she used Jung for your surname. It sounds distasteful. 

You follow her, starting to get nervous. You really hope this Mr. Lee isn’t as good as Doyoung says he is. Your fraud falling apart within three days is too embarrassing a defeat, not to mention bordering on illegal if found out. What the fuck does the government care about broken hearts and beneficial relationships? It’s so nosy. You understand the financial situation in case of happily bonded soulmates but apart from that, there really shouldn’t be this much discrepancy in the name of love.

Love drives people crazy. You’d rather not lose your good sense in the name of something so inane. After all, money makes the world go around, not love. 

Restricting a gag at the deep red heart on the door, you push them open with Jaehyun to find an old man sitting on a similar baby pink couch as in the lobby. He gets up to greet the two of you, the wrinkles on his face deepening when he smiles. Despite everything, he has a sort of grace to him, the one that comes with growing old elegantly. An upbeat song plays on a record player attached to the wall, although at a very low volume, and the tune reminds you of Animal Crossing. 

“Doyoung told me about the two of you,” Mr. Lee says, gesturing at the two of you to sit down. “How long has it been since you found out?”

“Six days,” you answer at the same time Jaehyun answers, “Four days”.

The two of you look at each other.

“Four-Six days. We didn’t keep track.”

“Ah,” Mr. Lee says. “How do you propose to celebrate your anniversary?”

You hesitate opening your mouth and declaring that you don’t really need to do that crap. Mr. Lee notices your expression and breaks into gentle laughter. 

“I’m kidding. Anniversary dates don’t matter,” he laughs. “It’s okay to celebrate your 100-day on the wrong day. Don’t worry.”

You purse your lips. To your dismay, Jaehyun isn’t as bothered by the sickly pink environment and Mr. Lee’s relaxed demeanour.

“I have a hundred percent success rate,” Mr. Lee assures the two of you, looking directly at you.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” you mutter under your breath and get a nudge from Jaehyun, who has his politest smile on.

You can’t believe Jaehyun has a better customer service mode than you do. If you didn’t know him, you’d be fooled into thinking he’s the nice guy character every office has. Unfortunately, that one goes to Dongmin. You hate getting stuck with nice guys (unless they offer financial stability).

“I think Doyoung might have been exaggerating,” Jaehyun explains calmly. “Whatever he told you.”

“He told me the two of you have a bickering problem. And staring at each other when the other isn’t looking.”

You cough. “That is not true. The staring part.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you. “I knew you were checking me out,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes. “Keep dreaming, Jaehyun.”

Mr. Lee laughs. “Your bickering seems to be quite affectionate. I don’t know what that boy was worried about.”

You press your lips together into a thin smile, annoyed that anyone would ever describe your interaction with a man as affectionate. It makes you feel like an idiot. You were always better off alone—the universe was wrong to assign Dongmin to you. Maybe you needed to see the apparent love of your life clearly in love with someone else to snap you to reality.

“However, what is a playful lover’s fight in the beginning can turn into real fights.”

“Right,” you mutter. “It’s all fun and games in the beginning.”

“The two of you have almost no animosity—you’ve known each other before you discovered the soulmark, right?”

The two of you nod, having already reconciled yourselves to this session. It’s a one-time thing, you tell yourself. It will be over soon.

“The soulmate information shouldn’t influence the relationship you already had. If anything, it should be drawing you closer. First time awkwardness is common.”

He’s starting to sound a lot like your high school sex ed teacher. You get the idea to pretend to be sick and get out of this early.

“Company policy too,” Jaehyun mutters. “Unofficial company policy makes office romance out to be some sort of sacrilege.”

“You know, I was the CEO of your company so I do know the policies,” Mr. Lee says, smiling in the confident, reserved way senior citizens offering wisdom do. 

You choke on the water you were taking a sip of, a coughing fit overcoming you and Jaehyun hesitates before awkwardly patting your back.

“Huh? CEO? I’m sorry?” you manage. 

Mr. Lee lets out a loud, hearty laugh. “I stepped down two years ago.”

“That’s when I joined,” you and Jaehyun say at the same time.

Mr. Lee smiles at the two of you wordlessly. “I have an idea for the two of you. Why don’t you try turning your ‘I’s into ‘we’s? Do some activities together and when you talk about it, you’ll find yourself much closer.”

You narrow your eyes. “You know, Mr. Lee, I’m a little curious about your relation with the company—”

“My recommendations won’t help you get promotions faster.”

“Dammit.”

Jaehyun chuckles beside you but a glare from you turns it into a suppressed smile. The one thing that wouldn’t be a waste of time opened its door and closed it right back. 

“But you know how promotions work,” you press, leaning forward.

An alarm rings, so pleasant in tone that you know it’s a Samsung. Unfortunately, it’s the ugly flip model and you question Mr. Lee’s taste (and wealth).

“Oh, look, time’s up,” Mr. Lee announces, and you think you catch a hint of nervousness in his voice. 

Jaehyun springs up before his ears turn red, embarrassed by the gusto with which he himself got up and looks at you expectantly. You get up, sighing.

“Next time, Mr. Lee,” you warn. “I will get those details.”

“I charge by the hour.” He smiles.

“Stop threatening the therapist,” Jaehyun mutters to you, taking your arm and turning to leave.

“Oh, and,” Mr. Lee calls. “It’s always better to be honest than to pretend.”

You blink in surprise when Jaehyun tugs at your arm, bowing in thanks and leaving the room with you.

“Was it just me or did he see through us?” you whisper to Jaehyun.

He shakes his head, whispering back, “There’s no way he could tell. He’s probably referring to something else.”

“Like what?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

“Tell me, are you always so domineering towards strangers even?” he asks. “I just thought you liked to press my buttons because I’m easygoing.”

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not as cool as you think you are, especially since you get so hot and bothered by me.”

“It’s just you,” he whispers earnestly and your pulse rises. “No one else.”

You cough to kill the awkward silence and walk faster to the elevator. Jaehyun follows at a leisurely pace and it’s never occurred to you before but the sound of someone’s footsteps can also be annoying, proof currently standing beside you.

The elevator doors open, and much to your appallment, a young couple happens to be full blown making out inside the elevator, hands where there certainly shouldn’t be in broad daylight. Jaehyun whips his face away, clearing his throat loud enough for the couple to detach themselves from each other and hurriedly exit, fixing their clothes on the way.

“So he wasn’t lying about the success rate,” Jaehyun states quietly, a look of resigned horror on his face.

You can’t even respond for a few moments, following him into the elevator and shaking your head to get rid of the thought that inevitably jams itself inside your head. It might have a point, however.

"Maybe we should kiss too," you think out loud.

Jaehyun stiffens, looking at you with wide, fearful eyes. "No."

"We have to kiss, we're dating!" You exclaim, hands on your hips.

"We're not actually—ah, whatever. It’s not worth bickering with you."

"Why? Afraid you'll fall in love with me?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, and you’re suddenly aware that your bickering keeps drawing you closer to each other, your faces nearer than you’d realized.

"If anything," he starts with a confident smile. "You better not fall in love with me."

"Oh, please. You're taking this way too seriously."

"You're the one that wants to kiss me."

Your cheeks heat up. "You're- I- That's not—argh, fuck you."

Jaehyun looks smug, and you have the unstoppable urge to punch it off his face. You take a deep breath. Violence is not the way, (name).

“If we were a few years younger, you’d be begging for mercy under me,” you seethe.

Jaehyun’s eyes shift over your face in confusion, ears burning bright red with each passing second. Before he can open his mouth, you let out a short yell.

“Not like that, you pervert,” you say, leaning away from him. 

“I didn’t even say anything. On an unrelated note, were you a delinquent in school?”

You roll your eyes. “Kind of. I had a temper and a sharp tongue.”

“And now you’re a people pleaser. That’s quite the development.”

You smack his shoulder. “You’re getting on my nerves, punk.”

He makes an ‘oh’ with his mouth before smiling. “You totally did the delinquent accent.”

“I’m guessing you were the shy, little boy who flushed red at conversations about kissing.”

Jaehyun clears his throat in annoyance. “I was not. I was quite popular in high school and college, you know?”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “It’s that face of yours.”

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

“Oh, look, we’re on the first floor.” You exit the elevator, leaving a puzzled Jaehyun to follow in stumbling steps.

“I don’t think Doyoung’s picking us up,” you state. “You take the bus? Or do you have a car to flex? I don’t ride in anything below a Tesla, unless it’s Doyoung because he’s technically my boss.”

“You’ll have to do with good old rented Hyundais,” he answers.

You exhale. Maybe he’s getting used to you. The bus stop is opposite the building, the structure squeaky clean and a bunch of people waiting on the seats. It’s a busy place and you wonder if the scammy-therapist-slash-your-former-ceo’s business has anything to do with that. You sit the first chance you get, shoulders pressed against Jaehyun’s for the lack of space and admiring the passing traffic. Seoul really just depends on the lenses you see through. Work days make the screen tinted grey and blue and you hate them often but some days, it’s good to experience those. Weekends are brighter, sunny and usually not with Jaehyun but he doesn’t really put a damper on them either.

You scan his side profile, a little envious when you realize that his confidence isn’t misplaced. You might have trained yourself to be more of a pleaser over the years but he’s the sort of person people come to like naturally. Moreover, his skin is perfect and his hair is always looking styled even in a mess. Fate and Life are partners in crime when it comes to being unfair.

Jaehyun turns to look at you and you snap your head to your lap, turning on your phone and staring at the homescreen for a good few seconds.

“Twenty questions,” Jaehyun announces. “Let’s play again. I’ll go first. Do you check me out when I walk away?”

“What is this, playing my own cards against me?” You scoff. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“So, yes or no?”

“Sometimes,” you mutter. “But it’s not the good kind of checking out. I’m checking out how terrible you look with your mess of a tie.”

Jaehyun laughs, the sound a hearty rumbling sort and you can’t help but smile back at that. It’s kind of cute when he laughs—the sound of it and the way his cheeks are dusted pink.

“My turn,” you say with a cheeky smile as you lean in to whisper. “Have you ever had a wet dream about me?”

Jaehyun chokes on air, coughing out the surprise as he stares at you dumfound. You stick the tip of your tongue out and throw him a wink, thoroughly enjoying this victory against him. It feels great to fluster someone like Jaehyun.

“No,” he says with clear emphasis. 

“Even the night you said I was so unbearably hot very loudly to Sicheng?”

Jaehyun leans back sighing, covering his face with his hand. “I was tipsy. And it was my first night out with coworkers. Give me a break.”

You giggle. “Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. There were worse incidents that night. An intern threw up on Doyoung’s shoes—I can’t even imagine the horror the poor girl experienced.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling through his hand. 

“Have you ever sent nudes?” you ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

He sighs. “Maybe. Have you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

He curls his lips. The answer seems to be no but you’re at least seventy percent sure he would be attracted to you in a world where your personality traits weren’t being nosy and annoying.

“Do you think you’re a good kisser?” Jaehyun asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Definitely.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You cross your arms.

He shrugs, leaning in slightly as though flirting (if he had the audacity). “We could test that.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “What happened to no kissing in the contract?”

“It’s not officially there.”

You roll your eyes, glancing away. “You know, I’m starting to believe you were some sort of desperate fuckboy in college.”

“I- I was the hottest dude on campus and if we went to the same college, you would be pining after me. I literally had the Campus Prince title and girls would follow me to see me in class.”

He crosses his arms, a frown tugging down his lips.

“Ooh, Jung Yoonoh’s getting fired up,” you say in a monotonous voice. “Wonder how many girls you pulled with your chewed up fuckboy dialogue.”

Jaehyun scoffs but he clearly finds your accusations amusing, as hinted by his unbothered smile. He asks a question again.

“What’s more important to you—truth or happiness?” 

The question catches you off-guard. Jaehyun’s eyes are delicately curious, nothing too strong and even so, you find yourself holding your breath under his gaze.

“Huh?”

“Twenty questions. We were playing?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“Right.” You clear your throat, rubbing the back of your hand. “I… I’d choose happiness, I think. I’m… I’m not sure.”

“Really?” He doesn’t look too hellbent on taking apart your answer so you breathe out. He’s starting to pry into you finally. “I think the truth will make you happier.”

“That’s not- that’s not always true.” You look away, hoping the quietness of your voice ends the conversation there. You don’t know how to talk about it—you never really have. You’ve ugly cried over the lack of your love life to a stranger after five shots of whiskey but you don’t think you can talk about things like this sober. You don’t even know why you answered. Jaehyun makes you feel oddly comfortable.

Jaehyun shrugs, getting up when the next bus halts in front. 

“What did you major in?” you ask, following him.

“Business,” he answers before thinking. “Kind of hated it. But I started out with IT and that was somehow worse.”

You gasp, taking a seat beside him on the bus. “I started with IT too! It was a nightmare. You took that Database Management course?”

Jaehyun smiles. “It was like the course equivalent of reading the back of a Wi-Fi Router.”

You laugh. Maybe he isn’t so different after all. 

“You know, you do look like a business major,” you hum, furrowing your brows as you pretend to scrutinise him.

“So, you’re indirectly saying I either look like a rich kid or a jackass.” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“They’re both the same thing.”

The laughter from the two of you makes an old woman behind you grunt in displeasure and the two of you apologize. It’s nice to talk like college kids again. The Seoul sunlight shines on Jaehyun’s face and you bite back a smile when his dimples appear. They aren’t all that bad. If you get along like this, there’s no reason to worry about fate and the universe and other superfluous things offered to you on a boring old ceramic plate. It’s a smooth ride.

Your eyes drift to Dongmin’s workspace instinctively and you shake your head. This is exactly why you were avoiding him and even started the entire fake relationship with Jaehyun. You’d choose fake dating a (good-looking) chump from management over embarrassment and possible heartbreak any day.

You groan internally before glancing again and find the desk empty. Surprised, you blink and turn only to scream at Dongmin’s figure behind you.

“Shh!” he says urgently. “Don’t move. And don’t panic when I say this but there’s a bug on your shoulder.”

“What the fuck? Get it off, please,” you say, voice choking up.

Dongmin rolls up a stack of papers and you let out a low screech. “Don’t kill it on my shoulder!”

“Sorry,” he says and your eyes soften as he gently pushes the paper against your shoulder and takes it away. You breathe a sigh of relief and he signs you a thumbs up as he wiggles the paper in the air outside the window. 

“You saved me,” you say, smiling.

He returns it, his most beloved eye smile making you wonder if you made the right choice. Wouldn’t it be fun to just crash everything and watch it burn? You know you want to. Benevolence and grace were never your style. However, it’s his smile again that stops you. Maybe you don’t really want to be the bad guy after all. You’re sparing him from confusion and dread.

You’re sparing yourself from rejection and inevitable loneliness (yay).

It’s been a week, discussing details with Jaehyun before the both of you collectively decided to just wing it and hope you’re not caught. After all, there’s no real way to prove you’re not soulmates if you’re careful enough (the same way you can’t prove someone’s cheating if they’re careful enough but that’s quite a depressing analogy). Perhaps if you renounce the soulmate benefits (and Dongmin didn’t smile as often at you), it would be less morally taxing. You, however, are greedy. When you want something, you’ll do anything to get it.

You stare at the computer screen and sigh, cross checking the employee records for incorrect data and your eyelids start to droop. Of all the days, you just had to be assigned the most boring task on a Friday. You also should’ve gotten sleep instead of getting mad at Jaehyun’s dry responses to your plan of action. It was perfectly viable; unnecessary, but perfect nonetheless.

Soojin rolls her chair backwards into yours. “We’re going drinking tonight. Wanna come? You can bring your boy-toy too.”

You roll your eyes. “As much as I’d love to call him that, he’s still the chump from marketing for me.”

“Or,” Soojin emphasizes. “Your actual soulmate. How lucky is it that you work in the same building, in the same company?”

“I’m not sure if you’re being ironic.” You scroll through the database with trained eyes.

“I’m not. A lot of soulmates don’t even get to see each other because of their line of work. It’s so tragic.”

You’d be glad if you didn’t get to see Dongmin ever too. But you’ll keep that to yourself. You hum in response and hear a sigh from behind you.

“Let’s have fun,” she whines. “Is Jaehyun that much of a downer? He’s one of the hottest dudes in the building. I thought you’d be cheery.”

You pause and think to yourself. She does have a point. You’re definitely supposed to look happier. Your soulmate has the looks of a model and fifteen year old you would fawn over him no doubt.

“It’s the work,” you answer. “I’m working overtime to compensate for my rent.”

You work overtime anyway because you hate heading home to an empty apartment. 

“Ah, you signed a new lease, right? Near Songpa?” Soojin looks at you with pity and pats your shoulder. “You know what? I’ll treat you to drinks tonight. You deserve a day off, missy.”

You smile. “Thanks, Soojin.”

“And,” she adds in a singsong voice. “The love of your life is here.”

You furrow your eyebrows before tilting your head and almost sighing in exasperation at the figure of Jung Yoonoh outside the glass door. He may not show it, but you know distress when you see it. You’ve seen enough squirming undergraduates at company interviews. 

You quickly get up from your seat, praying that he didn’t mess something up. However, you find it cute when he looks like this, the urge to fluster him even more presenting itself to be rather tempting.

“I think you have a sick obsession with me, Jaehyun.” You cross your arms after closing the door behind you.

He exhales, closing his eyes for a moment before taking your arm and pulling you away from the door. 

“Woah, this isn’t high school. You can’t just pull me into a corner to make out.”

Jaehyun’s ears flare hot red and he clears his throat. “You’re in high spirits today.”

You weren’t, actually. Somehow, teasing Jaehyun gives you the same rush as caffeine. You just love when the nonchalance on his face turns into discomposure.

“I came to give Doyoung these files. Or you, since you’re practically his assistant.”

You ignore his comment. “There’s clearly something else.”

“The team sports event is coming up,” Jaehyun starts, hesitating. “I’m not managing it this year. I have to participate.”

“So?”

“So Dongmin has a higher chance of finding us out. What if he sees my mark in the changing room and it all goes to shit?”

“Great! He’ll think you’re his soulmate and I’ll be spared from this nonsense.”

“I’m being serious. It’s already difficult living with Sicheng and having to change with my doors locked. It’s kind of suspicious.”

“Do you guys sleep naked with each other or what?”

“No, but I do sleep with my shirt off.”

“Ugh. Why would you give me that image?” you complain. The image isn’t bad per se but it’s not what you need right now.

“You clearly liked it,” he mutters. 

You furrow your eyebrows. “You’re not doing this just to give me a load of unnecessary anxiety, are you? Do you know how swamped with work I am?”

“No, of course not,” he answers, no indication of which question he answered. “Also, is there a reason Soojin’s glaring at me?”

You wave your hand in dismissal. “It’s just the haven’t-warmed-up-to-coworker’s-new-boyfriend glare. Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t seem too relieved but you have more anxious thoughts invading the privacy of your Friday evening. You have to keep up your composure. It could happen one way or another, perhaps in a situation better than a team sports activity, but you have to figure it out. You reject your soulmate anyway—the same way he would.

Glaring at Jaehyun one last time, you get back to your desk. Jaehyun looks at your receding figure and finds himself checking you out, the largest blow he’s taken to his dignity. He shakes his head, breathing in and out. This is so not like him. He’s supposed to be the suave, handsome guy who people can’t seem to get to and yet—yet, you do it so easily. It’s unfair. He swallows his heart and tells himself he’s too old to feel this way. He’ll just drown himself in work and pretend love is a commodity like everyone else with a corporate job is supposed to. 

“You know,” Soojin starts when you get back. “Jaehyun kind of looks high if you look at him long enough. Weed is illegal though but who knows? Maybe he’s a bad boy deep down after all.”

“Which rumour have you been paying attention to now?” You sigh deeply.

Soojin laughs. “It’s funny to hear everyone’s opinions. Even if most of them turn into scandalous tall tales.”

“Anyway,” she continues. “I’m clocking out. I’ll get Jaehyun to take you to the sake bar.”

You look at her, puzzled.

“You’re a matching set now,” she follows up and you groan.

“Don’t give me that cr—”

“Toodle-oo! Let’s have some fun before we’re grey and old, eh?”

You sigh and nod. Maybe you should look into a caffeine fix, even if it costs you a mental power outage at the end of the rush. It’s not like you to be so down on a Friday but alas, Fate is as miserable a woman as you are. The sake bar is starting to sound good.

Or, you could always watch a few ASMR cooking videos instead of staring blankly at the employee records. Either way, this Friday better improve by tonight.

“This is going great,” Soojin says, louder than she probably intended after her fourth shot.

“Of course it is,” you mutter. 

You haven’t yet had a chance to drink more because of two reasons: one) Soojin is hogging the alcohol and two) it would be embarrassing to get drunk in front of Jaehyun. Adding to your misery, Soojin has been gushing over her soulmate and the way she always makes breakfast for Soojin, listing off every single recipe she’s made. You would love to listen but you’re a tiny bit past your limit.

“Wooh, Jaehyun, you look hot,” Soojin whistles, in more of an older sister manner. “I can almost see your tattoo. Why don’t the two of you show us at the same time and we can take a commemorative picture?”

You cough loudly. “Mine’s on my waist, Soojin. I’m not ready to expose skin.”

“Right. Sorry.” She turns back at lightning speed to bother Dongmin with her stories, who smiles at her politely. It seems so genuine that you’re slightly enamored with it for a moment. There’s Jungwoo from marketing beside him, some more HR employees and thankfully, no interns. Doyoung is the only one partly miserable in the lot, talking into the phone for half an hour now. 

“Shit.” Jaehyun nudges you and whispers, “I forgot about the tattoo. This T-shirt makes it very visible.”

You look at him, alarmed. You fix his jacket, startling him, and pull the zipper all the way to his neck, making sure to backhand him on the chin.

“There.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“What do you want me to do about it? God, you’re like a child.”

“I’m like a—okay. Just cover my tattoo with foundation or something.”

“You think I carry around a whole bottle of foundation?”

Jaehyun blinks, deeming it safer to keep his mouth shut. 

“Okay. Fine. I have an idea. Come to the washroom with me.”

“Oh my, this isn’t your making out in the corner type of thing, right?”

You glare at him and he shuts up, following you quietly to the surprisingly clean restroom. The fact that it isn’t gendered makes you very glad. You make Jaehyun sit on the low enough basin counter and push your knee against it to balance yourself as you take out a permanent marker from your bag.

“I hope Doyoung doesn’t fire me for sneaking away,” you mutter angrily. “He didn’t even make me receive his calls all day.”

Jaehyun scoffs lightly. “Please, Doyoung adores you and your work ethic. He talks about it more than what I need to overhear. That and Taeyong’s detailed aquarium maintenance rules.”

“He does?”

Jaehyun clears his throat and you hold back bombing him with more questions till you’re done with painting an arrow into his tattoo.

“Isn’t it weird?” He looks at you with round, curious eyes. “Yours is a heart. Mine’s a pierced heart.”

“Hm. Funny coincidence.”

“Do you have to sit on my lap for this?”

“I’m not sitting on your lap,” you hiss. You are kind of close. You train your eyes on his collarbone as you pull his neckline down. 

It would be so embarrassing to be caught like this. You’d rather be caught making out with someone in the broom closet. You hold back a pained sigh. Jaehyun has some nerve speaking to you when you’re already annoyed with him. Couldn’t he just have worn his business attire? Why does he get to go home early? Taeyong is far too lenient a boss. You start swearing internally, getting nervous when you think about the consequences of your actions.

“Has anyone ever filed a complaint against you?” Jaehyun asks, and you nudge his chin upwards to draw the line on his tattoo.

“For what? Being perfect and successful?”

“For that attitude. The ‘take what I want’ attitude.”

You roll your eyes. “No. You’re saying it like I’m awful to the core for trying to take what I want. I haven’t got such a bad soul, you know, as souls go. You wouldn't write articles about how good a soul it is but… it’s well enough.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow and you avert your gaze from his eyes. This sort of proximity shouldn’t be bothering you, you shouldn’t be rambling.

The door opens right then and in a fit of panic, you do the unthinkable. You press your lips to Jaehyun’s and pray that whoever walked in has no idea who you are and more importantly, can’t see the permanent marker in your hand. 

“I’m so sorry!”

You know that voice. You half regret it when you hear it. Dongmin exits the bathroom as quickly as he entered and you pull away to look at the empty space. Beside you, Jaehyun stays so still that you forget he’s there for a moment. You breathe out in relief though part of you still feels a heavy ounce of regret.

You turn back to Jaehyun and find his doe eyes soft and lost in thought.

“I get it now,” Jaehyun whispers. “It must hurt. That he doesn’t care about the system.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That he’s so reckless about discarding you.”

You separate yourself from him further, standing up and brushing your clothes. “You’re overstepping.”

“Sorry,” he responds quietly. 

There’s a pause.

“Did you just kiss me right now?”

“Shut up. I didn’t want him to see us and especially this.” You wave the marker in front of his face.

“You just kissed me in a fit of panic. That’s the first time I’ve seen someone respond to panic this way.” Jaehyun looks a little too smug.

“What are you implying?” 

“You wanted to kiss me.”

You scoff. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself.” 

You want to knock the smile right off his face but you stick to flicking his forehead, his yell of surprise satisfying. This Friday night was supposed to get better. In fact, you are going to make it better if life won’t. The soju won’t drink itself and you deem that Soojin has had enough. 

Ignoring Dongmin’s confused look, you order far too many soju shots to be considered healthy. As you promised yourself, you are going to make this Friday better.

//

You just had to go and get drunk. Jaehyun stares at you, blinking slowly and wondering just how much you can embarrass yourself before it becomes a burden for him. He has to get you home; you’re practically a matching set now. But are the halves of a pair supposed to take care of the other when they get drunk?

“You know what, guys?” You announce, standing up abruptly and immediately getting pulled back to your seat by Jaehyun. It doesn’t stop your mouth however.

“I hate the stupid system,” you continue. “To tell the truth—”

He smacks his hand over your mouth. Jaehyun has had enough of the silent mini heart attacks you give him. The rest look at him with puzzled looks and he can’t even bring himself to give them a polite smile before dragging you out of the bar. The night breeze is cold enough—maybe it’ll sober you up.

"You're so annoying, Jaehyun," you mutter, massaging your forehead. "Did you know that?"

Or maybe it won’t.

"Never heard that before."

"How do you always keep to yourself and still be the center of attention?" You cling to his arm for balance. 

"Have you considered that maybe a polite man isn't as scheming as you think he is?"

You curl your lips. "Stop using big sentences. I hate that I barely know you, and I know everyone."

Jaehyun purses his lips. "You just enjoy the power that comes with figuring people out. Don't you?"

"Whatever you say. I want life to be a nice and smooth ride but then again, I can't even face my soulmate." You let out an airy laugh. "I didn't really need one though."

Jaehyun laughs in disbelief. "You look like you're dying of loneliness."

"Ooh, that's a big claim, Yoonoh."

"You say I keep to myself but what about you? You like hiding, don't you?"

You laugh. "Is this the part where I say we're nothing alike?"

He purses his lips, shaking his head in dismissal. He's just tired of chit-chat with someone who smells like she robbed a liquor store in Itaewon.

“You must think I’m some sort of selfish, vapid, work-obsessed overachiever,” you continue, tilting your head with a blank look in your eyes.

“Well, not exac—”

“But guess what? Your opinions are invalid, Jung Yoonoh. You’re just some chump from marketing. A very good-looking chump but still.”

Jaehyun swears under his breath as you fling your arms open in the same manner a speech-giving patriot fighting for freedom would. Unfortunately, the freedom struggle is private in this day and age, and you just smacked him in the nose instead.

You sigh deeply and he looks at you again, warily now as he holds his nose.

“You’re not exactly wrong either. I’m so empty. Like a bottle of soju with no soju. Could you bring me some?”

Jaehyun massages his temples and solidifies his resolve. He’s had enough stares from people on the sidewalk. With delicate concern, he holds you up with one arm around your waist, balancing your weight evenly so you can stand. Promptly, you bury your face into his neck and an embarrassing, high-pitched squeak evades the filter of his mouth. You’re just so adept at making his days (and nights) worse.

Jaehyun tries his best to carry you to the parking lot without any signs of struggle but good lord, are you uncooperative. Once he’s down lugging you to the passenger seat, he breathes out in relief at long last and makes sure you don’t fold in over yourself dozing off the seat. Getting you to sit up, he finds himself smiling the slightest bit at your smudged lipstick. Even like this, you’re quite pretty. 

Realizing what thought came over him, he shakes his head vigorously as if he’s committing a horrible crime. He just has to get you home—Soojin had texted him the address prior to the outing just in case—and then he can go back to pretending whatever he even is supposed to.

The sports event is really just HR and Management trying to one-up the other in a more quantitative way. You’re not really fond of the sweat and heavy breathing that comes with physical exertion if it’s for the sake of competition. Competition is such a childish, masculine way of handling things, especially emotions.

HR is leading in wins, however and that means you have something to rub in Jaehyun’s face. You hate participating but you’re not allowed to opt out without a medical certificate. At least one competition, and you had to choose the three-legged race. All these potential partners, and Dongmin had to choose you.

“I’ll win,” you tell Jaehyun, stopping by him once you exit the changing room. The indoor stadium is usually a recreational facility for senior employees but on sports day, it’s closer to a gladiator arena. The seats are green and occupied by grinning employees, most of them glad for a day off but also upset they don’t get to attend their personal affairs in it.

Jaehyun stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Shouldn’t it be a ‘we’? You need a partner. Oh, are you sad you can’t pick me?”

“Not at all.” You cross your arms, annoyed at his mock pity. 

Right then, Dongmin jogs up to you in a blue tracksuit. His hair sticks to his forehead because unlike you, he takes sports very seriously. Jaehyun, on the other hand, just seems to enjoy the competition. As a guilty pleasure, you’d like to see the two of them compete one day. That would be a competition worth betting on.

“I’ll have to borrow your soulmate.” Dongmin laughs. “The race is starting.”

Life strikes again with its poorly timed irony.

“Don’t mind me,” Jaehyun says politely.

The race is easier than you thought it would be considering most of the other employees struggle with teamwork. You’re the HR team for a reason. But then again, you feel a certain hollowness pervade you while you’re pressed to Dongmin’s side. Wouldn’t it be nice?

All you can think is that Dongmin and you are perfectly in sync. The realization comes off as sad despite your victory and the wide grins on both of your faces. 

Jaehyun purses his lips and gives the two of you a nonchalant look. He’s avoided getting caught in the changing room quite well. For some reason, he’s glad that you’re winning but also dissatisfied about it. He would certainly feel different if he were participating in that race, wouldn’t he? He would win. Losing a competition is a huge blow to his ego. Lately, he seems to be losing a lot of races. The two of you have been growing closer and he doesn’t mind late night discussions about flawed systems and childhood memories; but the fact that you’re growing on him is something for him to be on edge about. He’s never felt so close to someone, and still so far.

“Oh, they have good chemistry, don’t they?” Doyoung comments beside Jaehyun, before taking a sip from his bottle.

“What chemistry?” Jaehyun snaps and Doyoung almost chokes on the water.

“Chill out, man.” Doyoung eyes Jaehyun’s figure in concern. “She’s like officially yours.”

Jaehyun refuses in a series of sputtering responses. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not jealous. I’m not that kind of man.”

“I didn’t paint you as that kind of man either,” Doyoung mutters before speaking up. “But love, Jaehyun. Love’s a weird thing.”

Jaehyunn ignores his comment and walks down to the grounds, jogging up to you. He immediately forgets to say anything at all. Smooth move, Yoonoh.

You just stick out your tongue at him subtly.

“I told you we’d win,” you say.

Jaehyun crosses his arms. “Congratulations. I thought you, quote, hate this stupid competition for dunces.”

You clear your throat and Dongmin laughs beside you. Before he can offer his bottle, Jaehyun offers his own in a rush. You raise an eyebrow but don’t question it.

“You guys really are a perfect pair.” Dongmin laughs. “Sometimes I wish Mijoo was my soulmate.”

You give him a pitiful smile. There go your happy feelings of victory.

“But I’m happy this way.” Dongmin nudges your shoulder with his. “Don’t give me that look.”

That is not the look he thinks you were giving. You smile. 

“What about this? We can go on a double date! Those are fun, right?” Dongmin muses, crossing his arms.

“No,” you and Jaehyun refuse in a panic, and Dongmin blinks in confusion at the overwhelming response.

“I'm more of a homebody,” you explain.

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun agrees.

It makes Dongmin laugh aloud. “Oh, fate didn’t go wrong with the two of you.”

Your smile wavers. Did it go so wrong with you and Dongmin? Jaehyun’s hand brushes yours and you look at him. A perfect side profile and flushed hot cheeks with dimples to die for. You wouldn’t mind being in love with him. You don’t mind love much at all. 

Shaking off the thought, you watch as Dongmin leaves the two of you to run to the changing rooms. Eyeing Jaehyun’s red team sweatshirt with “Management” in big typography over the chest, you look back up to his face. 

“Why did you jog over here so desperately?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Jealous?”

“Yes. I am irreparably in love with you.”

He leans in quickly and you flinch, making his dimples show up.

“Asshole,” you curse. “I’ll file you for harassment. Don’t do that again.”

“Isn’t it harassment when you feel me up while you draw—” Jaehyun leans in to whisper. “—the soulmark?” 

“I would never have my hands near your greasy existence if I could,” you huff, scandalized. 

But the thing is, Jaehyun is getting better at this game of flustering each other and you don’t like it one bit.

“Hey, you know Dongmin’s girlfriend?” he asks suddenly. 

You nod. “Kind of. I’ve seen her pictures on Instagram.”

Jaehyun pauses before humming in realization.

You cough. “Not that I was stalking them or something. Obviously.”

Jaehyun gives you a knowing smile but doesn’t question anything, much to your aggravation. It would’ve been better if you had a chance to prove you weren’t stalking them but then again, that is exactly what you were doing.

“Well, we went to the same college. Same major too.”

“Are you serious? Wait, how do you know? Does this mean you stalked their Instagram too?”

“Too?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“She’s not exactly the evil homewrecker type,” he says.

“I know that,” you snap. If anything, you feel like the evil homewrecker even if Dongmin’s supposed to be your soulmate.

They’re so reckless. Jaehyun was right—you do blame them in a way. They don’t care who they trample under their nauseating parade of romance. But then again, that parade is better than a personal rejection.

“I’m just saying… don't hold it against them.”

“I don’t remember asking for advice, Jung Yoonoh.”

Jaehyun shrugs, dropping the issue. The preparations for the next race is starting and it has something to do with passing balls from basket to basket—you get bored already when you see Doyoung stretch before shaking hands with Taeyong.

“Wanna get ice-cream? We funded the food truck this year.” Jaehyun looks expectantly at you.

“Sure.” 

You contemplate holding his hand for a moment but let that thought bury itself. You don’t have to pretend right now. 

Much to your despair (or delight) however, Jaehyun takes your hand absentmindedly as he walks towards the exit. It’s not that you’ve never held hands before, it’s just that Jaehyun’s skin is soft against yours.

“I can’t believe you and Mijoo were in the same course.”

It seems she’s ahead of you in every direction you look to tread on. Of course, you will not be telling Jaehyun that. You don’t exactly feel jealousy—can’t feel jealousy when your life is perfect as it is. And for Jaehyun? You hate to admit it but you’d trade places with Mijoo any day.

“Well, she didn’t really like socializing back then so I didn’t know we were in the same program either.”

You chuckle, glancing down at your intertwined fingers despite your best efforts. It feels nice like this. It feels nice to be wanted by someone—even if it’s a lie.

“Do you think- Do you think they’re brave?” You ask. “They didn’t even hesitate to disregard the system.”

“I think people in love are always brave.”

You hum, looking down at your feet. All the more reason the system fucked up. You were never even supposed to be partnered up. You’re not brave—the face you put on is. The idea of love seems to get further and further away from you.

Just then, Jaehyun tugs at your hand, walking slightly faster and making you complain as you jog to catch up with his long strides. The food truck is fairly large, on the street outside to the stadium entrance. February is catching up with its heat and you curse at global warming for this hot winter day.

“You can take up to five scoops of different flavours,” he informs you, grinning sheepishly. “I guess the cups aren’t large enough for beyond that.”

“I didn’t know you were this passionate about ice-cream,” you say.

“Sicheng rubbed off on me.”

You laugh. IT must have given Sicheng enough stress to develop a sweet tooth. You love the HR Department when you look at the others in your company.

Jaehyun has a nice smile. You don’t know why you think that but you do and now you can’t focus on anything apart from the pink dust sprinkled over his cheeks and the handsome dimples that accompany. You don’t want to stare but clearly, Jaehyun must have been blessed by some divide being if not for fate. Maybe he’s a mess up like you. As far as you know, his soulmate doesn’t exist. That little red heart is so simple that none of the soulmate designs match it.

A rather repulsing part of you is happy about it. You like the feel of Jaehyun’s hands. You like the way he looks at you. You wouldn’t mind it if he were yours.  

Jaehyun’s house is as cosy as his mother makes you feel. It’s been a while since you’ve been home and if you were perhaps less emotionally constipated, you would have tears welling up in your eyes. There’s quite a few relatives too but then again, every Asian family jumps at the chance to celebrate something as mediocre as engagements and marriage and soulmate findings. Apparently, hormones are perfectly fine to them once you’re not teenagers anymore.

This isn’t so bad. What was so scary about meeting parents again? Jaehyun’s dad did challenge you with a questionnaire but lucky for you, you know exactly how interviews work. You’ve got enough information on Jaehyun from the man himself for this visit. The briefing he gave you was boring though; you already know what you need to know about Jaehyun.

You sit at the table, while most of the other guests work in the kitchen. Jaehyun’s mother asks you questions about your life, friendly and welcoming in every way possible. Mothers are truly god-sent. You wonder how she produced someone as far from divine as Jaehyun. (Except in looks, perhaps.)

You say that out loud and get a sharp quip from Jaehyun, his mother’s eyes lighting up at your childish interaction.

“Oh my, fate is never wrong!” She remarks with a wide smile. “I’ve never seen Jaehyun open up so much with anyone before. He was such a shy boy in school, you know? All the girls would send letters and confessions and he would just turn red in the face.”

“Mom.” He smiles all too sweet at her but you can see the panic in his eyes.

She rolls her eyes before turning to you. “Darling, you have no idea how proud I feel to see him this at ease. I was honestly getting tired of all the ‘your son is so polite and well-mannered’ comments. Some bickering ought to do him good.”

“Mom,” he repeats, straightening. “I think auntie needs some help setting up the table.”

“Don’t shoo me away yet. I have to tell (name) about the time you were elected class representative in middle school. And all those sports and acting awards.”

“You don’t have to advertise me, Mom,” he says, dropping his face into his hands to rub at his eyes, already growing tired. “I’m already- I’m already hers.”

His mother coos and apart from the expected deep red flush on Jaehyun’s skin, you find yourself feeling hot in the face too. Jaehyun’s aunt calls for his mother right then and you watch as she makes her way to the kitchen entrance, the two women glancing at you and giggling to each other over some shared words.

Jaehyun takes the opportunity to grab your hand and walk away to a more obscure part of the house upstairs. With significantly less relatives, it should be a good hiding spot unless discovered by his giggling cousins that he refuses to introduce you to. 

“Aw, what a shy baby,” you coo, smiling at the thought of a younger, easily-flustered Jaehyun.

His ears are bright red and you think that he’s still easily flustered. He just doesn’t show it much anymore—there’s only one dead giveaway.

“Forget everything my mom said,” he instructs. “It’s not important information.”

“Oh, no, darling. Your mother is a gold mine of vital information. You know what? I’m going to go chat her up right now. I’m sure you were quite the teenage dream I should know about.”

Jaehyun grips your wrist before you can escape, pulling your closer.

“Don’t.”

You don’t know if it’s the proximity or the fact that there are most definitely a few family members that could walk in right now—but you find yourself embarrassed as you look at his face. It’s very pleasant, handsome even, and the strands of his hair look irresistibly soft from this distance. You reach your hand out and brush the hair out of his eyes, almost instinctively. 

“You have nice eyes, Jaehyun,” you say out loud, not sure why. He doesn’t fluster this time but it makes you all the more aware of your nearness.

Your eyes glance at the bottom of the staircase to see a little girl, around nine, hiding from behind the wall that separates the dining room and the kitchen. You return your gaze to Jaehyun with a smirk.

"We should kiss right now. Your little cousin's watching."

Jaehyun looks mildly disgusted. "Why would I want to kiss you in front of my cousin?"

You roll your eyes. “You don't get it, do you? The fastest way to convince a family is through rumours.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "So?"

"Oh my god, you're an idiot. Nosy cousins are the most effective way to spread rumours."

"Ah." Jaehyun looks enlightened enough for you to continue.

"Okay, but first you need to have these mints." You take out the emergency mints from your purse.

"What? I don't need mints. I have nice smelling breath.”

"Everyone needs mints, Jaehyun. Especially men."

Jaehyun sighs heavily. You take the opportunity to grab his wrist and pull him into a corner. 

"Have this mint or else."

You hold his face between your thumb and forefingers, cheeks squishing under the pressure as you force a mint in. He lets you do it for some reason, looking lost as he gazes at you. 

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh my, you're enjoying this. Pervert."

"Wha—what? You have to stop thinking you're hot shit, oh my god. I just got distracted for a bit."

"By me, right?"

"No! I just zoned ou—you're enjoying this."

You bite down your smile but a giggle escapes you anyway. Jaehyun rolls his eyes though he smiles, looking far too close to irresistible when his dimples show.

"You can't keep teasing me," he says, voice low.

"I've been doing it for two years. I'm pretty sure I can do it for at least two more."

Jaehyun scoffs, laughing at your statement. "You know what? I'm going to get back at you from now on. I've been so lenient."

You snort before pressing the back of your fingers to your nose. "You? You're going to get back at me? You’re good at lip service, Jaehyun."

“Huh. You might be right about that.”

There's a beat of silence and you look at him expectantly. In the next beat of your heart (or lack thereof), he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours, surprising the life out of you as your back hits the wall. It's not just a touch either, his mouth moves over yours and when your knees feel weak, you reluctantly admit that the rumour about Jung Yoonoh being a good kisser is true. Maybe his body count isn't a lower-end single digit after all.

He pulls apart with a short smile tugging at his lips. "Satisfied?"

You sputter out a response before clearing your throat. “I- I don’t think anyone really saw us in this corner.”

Jaehyun makes a low humming sound. “Or you could just say you want me to kiss you again? I know I’m a good kisser.”

“Fuck off.” You punch his chest, eliciting a quiet grunt from him.

You move away from him, peeking from behind the wall. Oh, she saw it alright. The giggling gives it away and the fact that a few more younger cousins have gathered. This is ridiculous. The fact that you wouldn’t mind more is even worse.

You turn back to Jaehyun with steel-set eyes. “No more kissing. Ever. Never again. Kissing is officially banned.”

Jaehyun looks perplexed. “I thought that was a good kiss. Did you not enjoy it? What do you mean no kissing?”

“And I take it back.” The heat on your face is still burning steadily. 

“Oh, I see. You liked it so much that you’re embarrassed.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So I’m right?”

You roll your eyes and quickly walk down the stairs, a few words of complaint left hanging in the air as Jaehyun follows behind, stumbling over the steps.

Jaehyun likes how comfortable this is. He doesn’t mind glaring daggers at each other but this is fun too. It’s like he doesn’t have to be careful about the lines he might be crossing—there aren’t any damn lines at all. He can’t call it love, at least not by definition, but something is there. Something that is solid enough and heavy enough. Something he would be ready to hold on to.

You laugh at a joke Jaehyun’s dad makes. A family is the only place to feel at home. It might not be yours but maybe at the end of the night, you can convince them to disown Jaehyun and adopt you as their child instead. His cousins seem to be interested in the same things you were as a high schooler and it surprised you. Your job lets you advise the older cousins in a fairly friendly fashion. The little ones seem to like your dress and you find them far too adorable with their pink cheeks and dimples, much like Jaehyun’s. Speaking of which, he definitely got them from his dad. You look around and wonder how Jaehyun has so many female cousins and not an inkling about how women work. 

It doesn’t hurt anymore that Dongmin discarded you so recklessly.

He’s wrong. Jaehyun’s wrong. It doesn’t hurt—didn’t hurt right now at the very least. When Jaehyun kissed you, you didn’t think of Dongmin or his girlfriend or anyone else. You thought that Jaehyun’s skin is somehow always the right temperature. 

You shake your head. Jaehyun drives your getaway car and you shouldn’t get too comfortable in its worn-out leather seats. This shouldn’t be any different to you; you aren’t supposed to find love in every corner. This was all a survival instinct. 

The more stories Jaehyun’s mother shares with you over dinner, the more you find it comfortable to be here. You don’t feel this welcome in your own apartment (although, there isn’t exactly anyone else living there but you and the goddamn pigeon that wakes you up at six in the morning). The more the night progresses, the more you want to believe in this lie. Jaehyun glances at you from time to time, his gaze neither uncomfortable nor harsh and you smile at him when he does. Right now, there is no loneliness and the air is warm and smells of freshly cooked food; the way familial love works is such a mystery. You feel content.

“Why are we doing this again?” you lean in and ask Jaehyun, eyes focused on the TV as he tries to fix it.

“Because I need to get out of work, and fulfilled soulmates get a day off on Valentine’s day.”

You nod. “Your apartment kind of stinks. I feel sorry for Sicheng.”

“This is clean,” he defends, pointing at the lack of any visible mess in his room. His work table, however, has too many items scattered over it to be called neat. There’s a fairly large TV attached to the wall and you’re a little jealous about it. You only ever watch shows on your (quite beloved albeit small) laptop. The blinds aren’t fully closed, the evening city lights trying their best to pry their pervasive fingers in and add something more to the peach hue of Jaehyun’s room.

The doorbell rings just in estimated time for food delivery, a sigh leaving your mouth along with a ‘finally’. His place is strangely comfortable and much less of the war zone that you expected. There’s no reason to feel awkward, really, or even the bubbling in your stomach. You’re not seventeen, in your crush’s house. Jaehyun isn’t even someone you like that way.

It’s just two friends hanging out and watching a movie and doing other friendly activities. Two friends hanging out on Valentine's day. Two friends who have kissed more than once.

What do lovers do anyway?

This thing with Jaehyun has turned into clandestine smiles at the office building, subtle texts of ‘did you eat?’ and ‘good morning, idiot’, racing hearts at brushing hands on the occasional off-work hangouts (you refuse to call them “dates”) and overall, a lot more pink hearts floating over his head when you see him. It’s positively appalling. 

You don’t mind it one bit.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” The delivery man wishes as he leaves and you feel a sudden rage bubble up in you. 

“Ah, does he think every couple celebrates Valentine’s day? And just because we’re in the same apartment means we’re a couple? Wow.” You cross your arms, scoffing. “Who’s he to wish me?”

“Why… Why are you getting mad?” Jaehyun asks quietly, slightly confused.

You glare at him, your anger not quite dissipated and walk back into his room, placing the box of confectionaries on the bedside table with a loud thud. Jaehyun follows, placing the drinks rather clumsily beside it. He gives you one last look of concern before settling down on his bed.

You let out another huff of complaint.

"Does everything have to be heart-shaped?"

You stare at the nauseating display of baked goods delivered in a pretty heart-shaped box. The brownie is in a clear plastic box that has a tiny bouquet of hearts atop it, the coffee cups have heart stickers around the rim, and the pastry itself is heart-shaped or rather, two halves of a heart. One of them is strawberry pink and the other chocolate brown.

“You seem… suddenly fired up,” Jaehyun comments quietly.

You don’t really care if you look crazy to him right now; he’s already seen the worse parts of you. You’re just so annoyed at all this red and pink that was delivered. Aren’t cafes supposed to stick with that beige-cream palette? 

While you contemplate, Jaehyun tears the little sugar packet and attempts to open the lid of the cup at the same time, your blood pressure rising at the sight because you were half sure he’d spill the drink. After much difficulty, he shakes the packet trying to get just enough sugar but of course, like the clumsy oaf he is, he misses almost entirely, spilling sugar over his coffee table. It’s oddly endearing but that’s a thought you’ll keep to yourself.

He turns to you with a sheepish grin and you give him a look of distaste.

“You are a sorry excuse of a person, Jaehyun.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t mess this up.”

You turn to look him in the eyes, the honey shade alluring under warm apartment lights. They really are pretty. 

“I, and every other sane human being, would not mess up adding sugar to a cup of coffee.”

“You faltered for a moment there.”

That was not the reason you faltered. You roll your eyes and look away, taking a sip of your drink and sighing at the taste.

“How do you even like Americanos? Don’t you like a bit of cream and sweetness?”

 “I don’t really care for bitterness,” he answers.

“Wow, you must be a masochist.”

“And it’s quite obvious you’re a sadist.”

You snicker. “That makes us quite the pair.”

“I would like that sentence in a non-BDSM context, thank you.”

Jaehyun turns on the TV and the Netflix logo animation pops up. You raise an eyebrow at his ‘Continue Watching’ list, eyeing Bridegerton and Sweet Home, and wondering if he could be any more of an enigma. You can’t possibly figure him out at this point. You groan when he picks a title.

“Ugh. Do we have to watch a romantic comedy?”

“What? They’re funny. And I thought you liked those 2000’s movies.”

You believed in unicorns and sock goblins and love back then too. These days, you hate to see other people in love, especially when it’s fake. The movies you loved are now the movies you hate. The couples you eyed with delight at parks and cafes are now the bane of your existence. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that you enjoy the digital fireworks from a couple having a massive online breakup. Things falling apart are entertaining when it’s not happening to you.

You purse your lips. Can't you see other people happy without wanting to tear it down for yourself?

“Fine. But I’ll pick the 2000’s romcom.”

Jaehyun shrugs and hands over the remote. You see Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds on the poster and click on it immediately. The Proposal has a good enough comedy to romance ratio, in your opinion.

“I’m kind of surprised you came,” he says quietly.

“Why?” You raise an eyebrow. “Is it because of the suggestive nature of visiting someone’s apartment on Valentine’s day? Did you think we’d be doing something… more fun?”

You lean in and bat your eyelashes suggestively, although you’re clearly joking.

“I think you should know better than to get mouthy with me,” he answers as he leans in further, making your heartbeat hike at the proximity. Maybe he’s figured you out. Wouldn’t it be so nice to figure each other out at the same time—like puzzle pieces fitting together?

You move away from him. “Well, it’s not like I can go anywhere else. And I didn’t want to stay in my own apartment.”

“Maybe you enjoy my company?”

“Look, I would be sipping my coffee at a perfectly aesthetic cafe if it weren’t Valentine’s day.”

He raises an eyebrow at your nonsensical declaration and you sigh, trying to explain yourself.

“Cafes just terrorize the single folk on Valentine’s day. You should always go with Netflix,” you say.

“And chill?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“As I’ve told you so many times, I am not stupid.”

You inhale, an idea presenting itself.  

“Hey, since we’re technically a couple, shouldn’t you be sharing your Netflix password with me?” you ask, pressing your lips into your cutest smile.

“No.”

“You’re so stingy,” you mutter. It was worth a shot.

Jaehyun laughs, your hand reaching out to poke his dimples but you stop yourself. You weren’t supposed to get this comfortable. This wasn’t your place to be. Lost in thought, the moving screen leaves you unfazed and you can’t look at him anymore. However, Jaehyun reaches out right then and wipes at the space beside your lips, your focus lifting from the beginning scenes of The Proposal and latching onto Jaehyun’s lips.

There’s a pause, your head clearing itself of thoughts when you make eye contact with him. Soft hair, doe eyes, full lips and dimples—he’s so damn attractive, it hurts your existence. Does he have to be this close to you? You have mixed feelings about that look in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers suddenly.

“Yes,” you answer.

If you look from a rational point of view, you should not have said that. You should have said anything but that. But you don’t want to think right now. Jaehyun’s touch is warm over your skin as his hand rests under your jaw and the other on your waist.

You should not have said that. But you feel loved.

Somewhere along, you find yourself parting only to kiss again, the feeling of skin so delightful in a way you’ve never experienced. Your shirt hikes up and you see Jaehyun eye the little heart with the arrow—the sign you so despised with a gentle smile.

“It’s pretty,” he whispers.

It’s pretty but it isn’t his. He doesn’t have to look at you like that—he’s come a long way from nervous glances and now he’s the one making you nervous. Just say it isn’t love and it will be alright.

You part, sobering up for a moment and you disentangle your limbs to sit at the side of his bed.

“What’s- What’s wrong?” Jaehyun whispers.

You exhale.

“All my life, I wait and when it comes, it’s all wrong,” you say, staring at your lap. Self-pity is the most disgusting kind of pity to feel. You’re past crying at things like this. You’re past crying for an ounce of romance, every time you listen to a love song on the radio or look at an Instagram post of a couple or pass by lovers on the sidewalk content with each other. You don’t even have cats to return home to. Modern loneliness is wearing you down but you can’t believe in fairytales anymore.

He scoffs, smiling bitterly. “I don’t even know if this is worth losing my dignity over.”

“Jaehyun—”

“We can’t pretend anymore—I can’t pretend anymore,” Jaehyun exhales. “I want you enough to forget the system. Give me an answer. Please.”

You don’t mind forgetting the system right now. Jaehyun’s lips are always the right temperature; the warmth of his body seeps through his shirt as you press yourself to him in a hug. He’s perfect and right now, you want to believe he’s perfect for you—even if he isn’t, you want to believe it into existence.

You cup Jaehyun’s cheeks, unsaid emotion in his doe eyes, and kiss him. This time, you mean it with every ounce of your being. There’s no more flustering each other, just the hot flush of intimacy when you feel skin that doesn’t burn you. It’s just the right feeling. There’s no way this can be wrong. 

Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? You wish the voice would pipe down. It’s a coward, fearing fate just as everyone else does. But you are better than that, and this feeling is too enjoyable to let go. You don’t want this to fade.

Just then, Dongmin’s face comes to mind and you think that maybe if you kiss someone else with all you have, you don’t have to think of your shortcomings ever again.

Jaehyun pulls apart and you miss the warmth.

“You’re not… You’re not thinking of me, are you?” he asks. 

You don’t answer, even if the silence is overwhelming.

“I’d rather not have you close your eyes and think of someone else when I’m in front of you.”

“I’m sorry” is all you can say.

“You can at least pretend to love me.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. “Could. It’s not like this was ever supposed to work out.”

You gulp, looking away. “Jaehyun, come on. That’s not like you. We were- we were just… having fun.”

He takes a deep breath. “It hurts to not be wanted by someone you want. You know that. So why are you doing this to me?”

Because misery likes company.

“I’m sorry.”

It seems the phrase you barely uttered when you were younger is tumbling out of your lips in a mixture of grief and pity. Perhaps it’s karma. Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps it’s just the consequences of your mistakes.

Jaehyun parts his lips, a sigh departing. He leans in again, pushing away all of his thoughts. A little more hurt won't kill him tonight. How and when did you bring him down to his knees?

However, he's stopped by your hands against his shoulders, his lips hovering over yours.

"Let's stop," you say. "You're right."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

“I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

You wish you could be brave enough to burn the instruction pamphlet from destiny. But right now, you need to get away from Jaehyun, away from any more misery business.

“I’ll get going,” you say, gathering your stuff. 

Jaehyun hesitates but doesn’t stop you. He would never stop you, can’t stop so how could he even dream of stopping fate? This can never work out. It felt right in the moment but you don’t know anything more than that. You can’t close your eyes and pray everything disappears. No one else will solve your problems for you, you know that.

It’s time you start fixing the mess you made. You leave with a polite goodbye and hear a loud sigh behind you once the door is closed. Blinking away the urge to walk back in, you take long and quick strides to the elevator. You’re going to fix this.

Maybe if Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face’ wasn’t blasting at full volume at this stupid office party, you could be thinking a little straighter.

He was right. You can’t pretend anymore. There were thousands of ways this could have gone better. You didn’t have to pretend to be soulmates when you’re not. You could’ve discarded your belief in the whole system like Dongmin and Mijoo and dated someone out of spite. You didn’t have to drag Jaehyun into your sorry mess. You need to take out the nail you hammered into your own foot.

It’s the first time you’ve visited the rooftop restaurant from the company’s subsidiary chain of high-end restaurants but you imagined it would be bigger. It’s the news’ fault for making this place seem like a football field. However, you might be feeling that way because the distance between you and Jaehyun is suffocatingly small as is the distance with Dongmin. You don’t need to see Jaehyun tonight.

You don’t intend to make your confession a public affair and you certainly don’t believe in tack things like atonement. However, improvement begins with a step in the right direction. Maybe you’ll be a better person after this. Maybe you’ll still be as annoying and pushy as ever. You need to get it off your chest so you can proceed with the already tedious journey that comes with a soulmate rejection. You wonder why there’s so many man-made laws about soulmates when fate has made it complicated enough as it is. Love is the same as legalese when it comes to this system.

You flit about the crowds, smiling and greeting people and swerving away from Jaehyun every time he tries to approach you. You’re trying to make a good decision for once. He better not intrude. You’re wearing pink too, for the first time in a while: a satin shirt, pants and blazer set in dull pink.

“Dongmin,” you say, pulling him by the sleeve of his blue tux, and away from the rest of the HR team. “I have to show you something.”

“Hm? Show me?” He blinks at you. 

You get him to follow you to the inside the premises, stopping when you’re far into a 

“Uh?” Dongmin looks around before leaning in to whisper. “You’re not plotting to murder me, are you?”

You blink, and he laughs at you incredulously. “Why are you so serious?”

“I was lying,” you rush. “With Jaehyun. He’s not my soulmate. You are.”

Dongmin blinks in confusion. “Are… you joking? That was a weird joke but it could pass as funny—”

“Dongmin.”

You pull out your shirt from your pants, exposing the tattoo on your hip. It’s the little arrowed heart that has been plaguing you for years but now when you look at it, you feel no animosity. After all, it’s been through the same things you have. 

Dongmin’s face falls into stunned silence, eyes fixated on your waist.

“That’s- That’s my—what is this?”

Russian roulette is certainly not the same without a gun.

“I lied, Dongmin,” you answer, fixing your shirt back in. “I was so afraid of your rejection that I made an even larger fool of myself.”

His initial shock seems to have partly subsided.

“You… Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks momentarily hurt.

“You have Mijoo, Dongmin. I can’t ruin something like that.”

A love that doesn’t need fate to fix it.

Dongmin glances away in guilt and sighs, though the sound is croaky. This must be more than what he can take.

“I’m sorry,” he says, haltingly. “I hurt you, didn’t I? When I thought I was being brave, I hurt you instead.”

You smile bitterly. “We all hurt someone, Dongmin. I still have to fix that one for myself.”

He scans your face, lips trembling slightly as unspoken words die on them.

“We’ll tend to the legal stuff later, hm? No compensation. We can file a mutual rejection.”

“But—”

“Shh. I’m happy enough as coworkers and I get paid more than enough for this job. Might get a promotion soon too.”

You wink at him with an added finger gun, trying to play it cool. Despite everything, a weight feels lifted from your shoulders. Now that you are truly alone, you might as well embrace this growing loneliness crawling under your skin. Discomfort could be something you can get used to. 

When you get back to the warmly lit rooftop, the HR team looks at you curiously. You have the most self-destructive thought you’ve had in a while and tell yourself, you might as well if you've come this far. This is it. This is your social death. Honesty is the best policy, unfortunately.

“Dongmin and I have the same soulmate mark,” you announce. “We’re soulmates but we’ll sign a mutual rejection.”

Doyoung looks almost like he’ll faint and Soojin’s mouth is so wide open, you could practice throwing some mini basketballs in. This is your team—almost a second family, and it’s time you stop trying to hide yourself or disguise your feelings as something they’re not. They’ll get over it, as will you.

“J-Jaehyun?” Soojin looks to your side and you turn to find Jaehyun frowning.

“You could’ve discussed this with me,” he says, an odd sound of relief in his laugh. 

It hurts to look at him but you muster up your strength.

“I’m sorry,” you say, facing him. “I didn’t want to drag you into this hell with me.”

Into this loveless hell made for you.

“(name).”

It’s so painfully quiet in this corner; there are so many eyes on you and only the hurt taking shape in Jaehyun’s eyes knock some sense into you. 

“I’ll leave first,” you say, bowing as you take your leave.

You brisk up your pace and exit the venue as quickly as you can and into the building corridor.

Unfortunately for you, you recognize the pair of footsteps that follow you—both of them having their timings wrong. Boys don’t chase after the girl when she’s walking away. Boys should leave a girl alone when she feels like she’s about to cry.

You turn to face two men and groan internally. This is the worst possible situation—you’d rather crawl into a hole than look at either of them. The corporate light shines harshly on either of their faces but the look on them is so earnest, you want to close your eyes and scream. You don’t mind being alone. You were overstepping when you wished you weren’t.

“(name),” Dongmin starts. “I’m sorry it turned out this way. If you’d told me, we could have talked this out.”

A light scoff leaves Jaehyun and Dongmin purses his lips. It’s kind of funny watching both of their tall frames in hesitant postures and you cross your arms. You’re going to deal with this quickly like you always should have. If you’re dealing with fate, you need to have a clear head—and fortune doesn’t favour fools. Being with Jaehyun was nice but he is not yours. Dongmin may have been assigned to you but you’d rather not ruin someone’s relationship.

“What would we have talked about?” you ask. “Compensation charges? Apologies?”

You see a hint of positivity on Jaehyun’s face and turn to face him, frowning.

“And you. Don’t look so smug. You’re the reason I realized this crap. It hurts. Like hell.”

He opens his mouth but no words come when he’s far too taken aback. He can’t offer consolation now, not after everything. You knew this would happen. You would undoubtedly end up wishing you didn’t fall in love with him on the day you leave.

“(name). Listen to me,” Dongmin calls again, voice gentle.

Jaehyun sighs. “We’re both fucking this up, dude.”

Dongmin takes a sharp breath.

“You know, soulmates can be platonic,” he reasons, looking only at you. “People are made for each other differently and maybe you and I—”

“You’re just making her feel worse,” Jaehyun cuts him off.

“How do you know that?” Dongmin asks, finally turning to him. “Because you’ve spent a month or two with her? I’m her soulmate.”

“I think a month or two is much better than a stranger with the same damn birthmark.”

“Oh come on,” Dongmin scoffs. “The system exists for a reason.”

“I don’t give a shit about the system. The same as your girlfriend—oh, sorry, did you forget about her already?”

“It’s not like that.” Dongmin quietens. “We’ll figure something out.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. They’re worse than you are—honestly, you don’t know what you expected from the timid emotional maturity of men. Both of their polite facades have melted and you’re starting to miss their sweet-tempered work demeanour.

“Come with me,” Dongmin tells you.

He wraps his hand around your wrist and tugs, Jaehyun visibly tensing up at the gesture. He presses his tongue against his cheek in annoyance but refrains from doing anything rash. You feel sorry when you look at him.

“Dongmin,” you whisper. “Can we- can we have a moment?”

Dongmin nods in understanding and exits the hallway to cool off with a few splashes of water in the washroom.

“Would you go with him?” Jaehyun asks, jaw clenched. “An acquaintance as most? Are you willing to run into the arms of fate that you hated so much?”

He looks bitter and you can’t think of a sugar-coated response. You’ll just have to tell him how you feel.

“I need to sort things out, Jaehyun. This—”

You point from him to yourself.

“Couldn’t work out thanks to fate. Dongmin and I will never work out because he’s braver than I am. You know he’s doing all of that just so I don’t get hurt, right? He’s not suddenly in love with me.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, looking down to his feet. Is it so bad that he let jealousy get the best of his mouth? Envy isn’t so awful. He looks from your eyes to lips and wishes he were young enough to believe in fairytales.

“You don’t have to be brave,” he whispers. “You don’t have to be so brave to fall in love. You don’t have to be brave to stay with me.”

“We tried, Jaehyun. And we can’t cheat fate. That, at the very least, requires bravery.” 

You press your lips into a thin line. It hurts. It hurts so bad to look at him and face the consequences of this flawed design. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that you have to follow the rules even after trying your best to break them. 

“You wish you never met me, don’t you?” you whisper. “I made a mess.”

Before he responds, you bow in a short goodbye and walk towards the elevator. There’s no footsteps behind you, no Prince Charming. It’s just you and your high heels clacking against the cold marble as you head back to an empty home. You always thought freedom would feel different, that distance would give you perspective. It just feels awful when no one is around you at all. When you have no one to pick up morning calls from, receive texts from asking if you ate, spend time in peace without uttering a single word—are you free or are you lonely?

The rules state that the two of you are different. It is true. You are as different as love in real life and love in the movies; and neither of them have happy endings now.

You wish you drank some more last night if you were going to embarrass yourself like that. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you have two more days to figure out how to face your coworkers. You frown when you think of Jaehyun. Were you wrong to tell him that you simply couldn’t choose him? What if fate is right and it falls apart? You stir your morning coffee, the will to drink it fading slowly. It’s already fallen apart—and it wasn’t fate who did that, it was you. Should you have taken his stupidly warm hands and asked him to follow you? You don’t understand how it works at all.

Centuries of questioning what love is, poking and prodding at it like a lab sample, and there’s still no perfect answer. Love is blind. Love is cruel. Love is a fever. Love is temporary insanity. Love is acceptance. Love will set you free. There’s just too many variations. You can never tell if fate is meant to make it easier or worse. 

No one questions you at the office and you're not sure if you’re glad or aggravated. Only Doyoung shoots you a pitiful look which you brush off and immediately get into work. Embarrassment is only real if you acknowledge it. However, every time Dongmin tries to talk to you, you ask for space and even alone in your thoughts, you don’t get it. They just have to drift to Jaehyun.

You wonder if what he said was true, that he wanted you enough to forget the system. It’s clearly ruined now. The spiral of thinking has you zoning out during work more often than not and even Doyoung ends up reprimanding you for your lack of focus. Sometimes you want to snap but other times, you’re just hopelessly reciting the events over and over in your head. This was supposed to happen, wasn’t it? You don’t even have the strength left in you to blame it all on Jaehyun.

You pace in the corridors after work, contemplating popping by the Marketing Department. What could go wrong? Sure, it was a little dramatic of you to leave like that but everything can be fixed, right? You groan. What you were supposed to be fixing, you made worse. Are your hands cursed or something? You shake your head, returning to your desk to gather your belongings and head home.

Unfortunately, the sight of Doyoung sitting in your chair alarms you and you stop a foot away. 

“If you’re going to reprimand me for watching cat videos instead of checking the employee records, I can assure you my efficiency is still top-notch.” 

“You’re—what? Never mind.” Doyoung shakes his head. “Can you give this ginseng pack to Jaehyun? I owe him.” 

Oh no. You know where this is going.

“You know I’m going to keep that for myself, right?” You make a face. “I’d rather die than face Jaehyun right now.”

Doyoung shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one running to you. This is in case of an emergency.”

You give him a fake smile and Doyoung shakes his head. “Good to see you’re still great at pretending to be fine.”

You sigh. “Thanks for looking out for me, bossman.”

Doyoung blinks, hand covering his mouth when an audible gasp leaves him. “Woah. I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you thank me. But don’t call me bossman ever again.”

“Noted,” you say, taking your bag and leaving with a short goodbye. You’re lucky he lets you off work early, even if you never took it. Employees usually can’t leave until their superiors does and if you were a senior employee, you’d be giving your juniors quite the hell.

You seem to be good at concocting hellscapes. Perhaps, you should look for job openings in the underworld. One last thought of Jaehyun exits your head and you take the bus home, admiring the city you live in and the warmth of people and their relationships. You don’t feel jealous; you just bask in them for the time—be it a mother and her son or two bickering sisters or a lovely old couple. That’s how it’s meant to be, then. That’s how love works.

Jaehyun smacks his head against the sofa armrest for the fifteenth time in a row.

“Dude. You’re going to permanently ruin the fabric.” Sicheng says, eyes trained on his laptop screen.

“I should’ve said something more.” Jaehyun’s voice is so zombie-like, he thinks he should cast himself in the Train to Busan sequel as an extra.

“I’m glad I’m not you,” Sicheng mutters.

“Can you give me some sort of consolation, at least?”

“That’s not what I’m your friend for.”

Jaehyun sighs and resumes smacking the back of his head against the armrest. He really needs to figure this out. After all, he can’t really Google the solution to this.

“One thing doesn’t make sense,” Sicheng says, finally looking up from his screen. “Why do you have the same mark as (name)’s if you’re not soulmates?”

“You’re so incredibly—but adorably—stupid, Sicheng. She drew it in with a permanent marker. She kissed me too! It was sudden and weird but I didn’t mind it.

“Yikes.” Sicheng makes a face. “So… you didn’t take a shower for how long now?”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“The ink hasn’t washed off. I heard you singing in the shower yesterday, how could you not have washed that off? Ugh. Don’t tell me you miss her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he jumps up and rushes to the washroom. Looking into the mirror, the tattoo poking out from his T-shirt resembles yours a lot more than his. The arrow is still drawn in. Jaehyun’s shoulder slumps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Turning the tap and letting the water flow, he wets his hand and rubs at his collarbone to remove the arrow.

Except it doesn’t budge. His skin turns painfully red from the rubbing but the ink, which usually washes off in less than five minutes has no intention of leaving. Did you use a different brand of marker the last time? When was it anyway? 

Jaehyun breathes out, firming his resolve. He needs to be with you.

Sicheng blinks in surprise as Jaehyun grabs his car keys, not even bothering to change from an all-black getup of a T-shirt and jeans like some emo teenager, and shuts the front door behind him. Not even a ‘goodbye, I’m leaving!’

Sicheng sighs. Love makes people crazy. He’s not falling into that trap when his soulmate literally doesn’t exist, the same as his soulmark. It seems the contestants in this game are full of exceptions.

You hit your head against your pillow. To visit Jaehyun or not to. You haven’t left your bed since you woke up around seven in the morning, and now it’s ten. Your bedsheets are a mess because you’ve rolled around too much on them (in despair, not with someone unfortunately).

You need the quiet sometimes to let your mind rest, to let your heart rest. You needed time. But maybe it’s been long enough and now you’re just searching for excuses to hold on to your last shred of dignity.

You lift your head up and glare at the box of ginseng on your table. Should you? You reluctantly get up, feeling a sting of pain in your back for lying in that awkward position for so long. Right when you’ve put on your slippers, the doorbell rings and you groan. How did the package you stress-ordered last night arrive so early? These deliveries are getting faster and faster.

You walk to the front door and open it thoughtlessly, freezing up at the sight. Your first reaction is to cover yourself. You’re not exactly your best-looking version at the moment. Jaehyun’s dark circles almost match yours but he’s better dressed than you are—in a black T-shirt and jeans while you’re wearing a Gudetama pajama set.

“We’re not just friends,” he blurts. “We’re not soulmates but we’re not just friends.”

“Huh? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing I’ve looked.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in a question look. 

“That’s not important! Look—”

He pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. His hair is so disheveled and messy, he barely even looks like the same well-maintained marketing employee you know. 

Jaehyun tugs at his T-shirt, pulling down to reveal his tattoo—albeit with your marker-drawn arrow through it. He does have a pretty well-built chest, you note before chiding yourself for getting distracted.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you, uh, need help scrubbing it off or something?”

“No.” Jaehyun lets out a huff of exasperation. “It won’t wash off. If it’s what I think it is—”

“Miracles don’t happen to people like us, Jaehyun,” you say quietly.

He gulps. “I don’t know about miracles but… I just needed an excuse to see you, I guess.”

You look up, a rose blush over Jaehyun’s bare face, and run your finger over the tattoo, sighing at the warmth of his skin. Your hand travels up to his cheek, resting atop it while you muster enough courage to look Jaehyun in his chocolate brown eyes.

You pull away. This isn’t the time. You still have an internal crisis to sort out. Are you even deserving of love? It makes much more sense if the answer is no. 

However, Jaehyun pulls you in by the waist, his right palm warm against your cheek.

“I don’t care what anyone says.” He runs his thumb over your cheek in a painfully fond manner. “You’re worth more than the price I pay for this.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours swiftly, your head clearing of thoughts almost immediately. It feels so right, you can feel the spark, the red thread around your skin, hear the bells. This kiss was far more perfect than it was supposed to be.

You part, gasping. Jaehyun blinks at you, breathing heavily.

“Kiss me again.”

Jaehyun does as told and you might just believe in miracles this way. With his hand around your waist and in your hair, his lips over yours and the low rumbling laughter that parts the two of you—you might just believe in miracles. You might just believe that love isn't something you deserve by earning.

“I like this,” Jaehyun comments. “I like the way this is.”

You press your finger to his lips. “I think you should shut up and kiss me some more.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sexually repressed as of now, but that’s no reason to take advantage of me.”

You scowl, punching him on the shoulder and moving away from him.

“Come back,” he complains in a quiet voice.

“I am not going to do that.” You cross your arms.

“Come on,” he mutters, inching closer as you inch away, till your back hits the couch and you tumble backwards onto it, your legs on the headrest. Jaehyun laughs at your position, leaning in to keep his hands on either side of you, a doting look over him.

“Hey, did you know if I kicked my leg up, it would hit you in the balls?”

“Please don’t do that.”

You giggle, Jaehyun’s nose rubbing against yours in a bunny kiss. 

“Is your place usually this much of a mess?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. 

You sigh heavily. “I was having a bad day, okay? Or… a bad weekend.”

“Do you even have food?”

You look away, crossing your arms. Jaehyun sighs and shakes his head.

“We should go grocery shopping. How do you live like this?”

You scoff. “Oh, spare me the lecture. I’ve heard enough horror stories about your room from Sicheng. You can’t hide from me by sweeping your clothes and belongings into his room.”

“Snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your mouth and you immediately cover it. Jaehyun smiles at you fondly and you look away, unable to bear that gaze of his.

“It really won’t wash off, by the way,” Jaehyun states, scratching at his collarbone.

You narrow your eyes, smacking his arms away to roll off the couch. Taking his wrist, you walk into your bathroom and turn the tap on. Something’s strange. But also strangely right.

“Look, I already tried—ow! Don’t rub that hard!”

You blink in confusion, trying again despite Jaehyun looking like his soul already left him. It doesn’t work. Your marker isn’t even that permanent. At least his regenerating skin cells should get rid of that arrow. Unless the ink was deep enough to pierce all the layers, as in a soulmark.

You gasp.

“You were right!”

“I told you s—”

"That's the point, isn't it?" you say, realization dawning as your eyes widen. "To see if people will question the system at all."

Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe.”

"Oh, all those unhappy marriages that could have been saved," you say as you exhale. 

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. "I think that the point was, people can be happy without their soulmates. It's whoever you make one out of. Or I Googled too many articles on anti-soulmate propaganda."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. Watching his ears turn bright red is the cherry on top.

“Okay, fake-boyfriend-turned-real-soulmate.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Did you rethink your decision about sharing that Netflix password with me? I get the girlfriend free pass, right? Right?”

“I didn’t even share it with my mother.”

You whack his arm, him possibly used to it by now, judging from his lack of response. 

“Idiot.” You cross your arms. “We can Netflix… and chill then. God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Jaehyun breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so pushy.”

 “And you like being pushed around, nerd.”

“Who said that?”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, spinning you so that your back hits the door. He leans in to kiss you again and you smack your palm over his pouted lips. You laugh at his face, his eyes brimming with confusion.

“You’re in my apartment. I make the rules here. Think twice before you start a game with me, Mister.”

His shoulders droop. “Fine. Can you at least let me kiss you four times a day?”

“Five times, if you ask.”

He laughs before leaning in again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“You are one hell of a woman. Emphasis on hell.”

You laugh and grab his collar, pulling him in for the kiss that seals this deal.

You realize a few things in the moment: a) You don’t have to play roulette to find love, b) You don’t have to pick your poison to find love, and most importantly c) Love is right where you make something of it. Fate is still not in your good books but if it bends to you this way, you don’t mind at all. If Jaehyun kisses you like this every day, you don’t mind one bit. 

[bratkook]

come over. (m) jjk

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. smut, pwp,  warnings. jungkook is a self proclaimed pervert, smut in forms of: mutual masturbation, voyeurism through bedroom windows, rough sex, oral (m receiving), jungkook is a lil mean but just a little, dirty talk, use of vibrator, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation, unprotected sex word count. 7.2k summary. the guilt of being a dirty peeping tom eats Jungkook alive, not knowing this was all part of your elaborate plan to sleep with the new neighborhood eye candy. author’s note. #84 requested by @taestybae​ from this promp list! ty for sending this in bby 🖤 (requests now closed)

Jungkook knows it's wrong, god does he know it's wrong. Acting as if he didn’t mean to leave his blinds cracked open, tilted at just the right angle that allows him to still be able to see out, the view he’s granted being your own window a few feet away. 

It’s funny now, how when he had first purchased the town house he had hated how close his neighbors were to him, and now here he was, an absolute pervert who was thankful for the narrow distance between your buildings.

The self proclaimed pervert simply sits at his desk, mindlessly going through work emails while his eyes continue to drift up, staring through his blinds for any sign of movement. 

Jungkook’s chest feels tight as he waits, eyeing the ticking clock in the corner of his screen and seeing it was nearing nine at night. Maybe you had plans tonight, going out with your friends, mind too preoccupied to indulge the filthy fantasies Jungkook had swirling in his head. It had become his favorite daily activity, sneaking a peek at you, sometimes doing simple things like relaxing with a face mask, or having a dance party. 

Of course those moments were all adorable but his favorite moments were the ones where you would walk around topless or lather lotion on your body after a shower. Sometimes you’d take the teasing a step further, blinds fully opened with only the sheer curtain coming in between him and your shadowed silhouette, caught in the act of what he could only assume was you touching yourself. 

Jungkook used to think it was purely accidental, just a careless neighbor who had no idea his bedroom had the perfect view, but he swore you had made eye contact with him far too many times for this to not be intentional.

Before his mind can spiral further, there’s suddenly a flicker of light and like a magnet, Jungkook’s eyes lock in to their target, seeing you walking into your room with a small towel draped over your shoulder, sports bra and tiny workout shorts showing him how your body was glistening in sweat. 

Pushing off his desk, his chair rolls and squeaks along his floor so he could get a better view, completely invested in seeing the way you get comfortable after your trip to the gym. Call it creepy or call it attentive but Jungkook had grown to know your schedule, you were his neighbor who enjoyed giving him peep shows so it was sort of hard for him not to realize the usual routine you had. However, this was the first time he had seen you come back from the gym this late. 

Jungkook groans now at his realization, palm coming to rub down his face as he hears his own thoughts, behaving like a man who had a notebook where he jotted down your schedule. 

He didn’t, but still, he felt like a creep. A dirty fucking creep. 

With his eyes screwed shut he shuffles the chair back to its rightful spot like a child in time out, angling his body to prevent his wandering eyes from looking through his window once more, the shame once again eating away at him like it did every time. 

Did you really do this on purpose? 

Of course you did, you weren’t stupid. 

The second Jungkook moved into your neighborhood he became the talk of the street, suburban house moms, young teenage girls, even your elderly neighbor had begun to wonder who the cute boy who went jogging down the street was. He oozed sex appeal, not even realizing how swooned he had everyone with his morning workout, he just thought everyone waved and smiled at him out of pure friendliness. 

Although he had no idea how hot he looked, you were blessed with the gift of vision and common sense. It only took you one glance of him exiting his house, long hair partially tied back, running shorts hugging his thighs so beautifully and you were sold. 

The minute you realized he was your next door neighbor it was like a lightbulb went off above your head, it was a blessing in disguise and you were not about to pass up the opportunity to have this go in your favor. Giving him a front row seat to you and everything you had to offer was the cards you chose to play and so far it had been going well. 

That is until you exit the shower, excitement coursing through you, already wondering how you’re going to tease him tonight. With your towel loosely hanging around your chest, you’re ready for the small show, but as you get into your usual position you notice that his blinds are now tightly closed, no gap between the shutters to allow him a peak of you. 

It’s a sudden and very unexpected chain of events. With a small huff of disappointment you perch yourself onto the end of your bed, directly facing your window as you sit in thought, your saucy plans for the night being ruined. 

Wondering just what could have made Jungkook flip a switch like that kept you up at night so when you see him coming in from his run the following morning as you leave for work you don’t think twice about speaking up. 

Your neighbor flinches when you greet him in good morning, not expecting to hear your voice so close to him but he could thank your connected driveways for that. 

“Oh, good morning.” he smiles politely, pulling out his airpod and pausing his music entirely to give you his full attention. The small nerves of being called out bubble up inside of him, only having talked to you once prior he wasn’t really sure where this conversation would go, were you about to call him a disgusting pervert?

“Did you call it a night really early last night?” You bite instantly, soft smile not giving away your true intentions but he knows, the way his eyes widen slightly make it obvious. 

“Yeah,” he sputters out, wiping his sweaty palms on his black shorts, nerves already making his heart skip. You knew, there was absolutely no way you didn’t and this solidified it. He had assumed you did, his guilty conscience making him believe what you did was intentional in order for him not to feel like the peeping Tom he very clearly was, but hearing you sneakily admit to knowing he hadn’t watched you last night made him feel like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. 

“Haven’t been getting much sleep lately so..”

You simply nod along as he trails off in a lie, lips spreading out into a smirk as your eyes very obviously give him a once over, focusing on the deep cuts of his sleeves that expose his sides and art filled arm, how the shorts he wears hit above his knee and leave his glorious thighs out for you to see. He was truly blind to his good looks. 

“Sorry I haven’t really given you a proper neighborly welcome, can I have your number?” Already fishing your phone out of your pocket because you knew he wouldn’t say no, still you tack on a helpful lie to make your flirting a little more subtle. “The neighbors have a group chat, I’ll add you to it so you can get all the hot gossip.”

If he knows you're lying he doesn’t show it, instead he looks a tiny bit disappointed that you wanted his number to add him to a neighborhood group chat. Regardless he recites his number with a smile, his phone instantly vibrating in his palm with a text from you, a friendly ‘hi neighbor’ with a waving emoji at the end. 

As he starts to save your contact you open up your car door, grabbing his attention once more. “I’ll text you if I ever need sugar...or other neighborly things.”

The suggestive teasing in your tone isn’t lost on him now, his cheeks flushing at the implications behind your words. “Yeah, whatever you need.” 

He’s admittedly even more disappointed when your message thread runs dry, not even being added to the gossip group chat that he was sort of curious about. You hadn’t even given him a show since the night he shut his blinds but it was all part of your plan, expertly crafted to go in your favor. 

While you’re at work you get the email that sets everything in motion, a notification of your package being out for delivery. A very cute baby pink wand would be placed at your door step in discreet packaging and if things went the way you anticipated it would be making its proper debut tonight, hopefully with an audience of one. 

Jungkook is pulled away from his computer screen when his phone vibrates against his desk, your name illuminated on his homescreen. He pauses for a moment, wondering if this was simply a text initiating him into that damn group chat that he had no idea didn’t actually exist, but when he unlocks it and opens up the thread he sees it's just you. 

Y/N 3:48pm : hi jungkook, sorry to do this but im getting a suuuper important package delivered today could you please keep it safe until i get home later tonight? 🥺🖤

You wanted him to guard a package, just neighborly things, exactly what you said you would text him for. 

Jungkook 3:49pm : sure, what is it?

He feels stupid immediately after hitting send, fingers curling together into fists as his eyes glare at his screen. Why the hell would he ask what the package was? Being a peeping Tom was clearly not enough, no he had to know about your online purchases. 

Y/N 3:52pm : just something for sore muscles 😅

Just like a typical horny boy would, his mind wanders to what exactly could be in the box, quickly texting you an ‘okay!👍🏻’ before locking his phone altogether. He was going to lose his mind. 

All according to plan. 

Jungkook guards that package with his life, placed delicately on his kitchen counter, exactly where he left it the minute he saw the postman drop it off. He’s been glued to his couch since then, regularly looking over his shoulder to ensure the brown box wouldn’t spontaneously disappear. 

Just as he feels himself getting antsy the gentle knocking from his front door has him springing up from his couch, pausing a few feet away from the door as he eyes the knob before looking back at the package. Should he greet you with it in his hands, or would that seem like he was trying to rush you away?

When you knock a second time he opts for just opening the door, seeing you standing there with that friendly smile, a small tweed skirt and matching top showing him you had just got off work, his eyes focusing on your exposed legs for a moment too long until your voice snaps him out of it. 

“Hi Jungkook,” you greet him with that honey sweet voice, the tiny glimmer in your eyes betraying you but he doesn’t spot it. “Did you get my package?”

“Hey, yeah I did.” Leaving the door ajar, he steps further into his home, quickly retrieving the light box and bringing it to you, still patiently waiting with that polite smile as if you didn’t know what was packaged inside that box. 

“You’re a lifesaver!” you cheer, holding it close to your chest with a small sigh, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if this got stolen.”

Jungkook can feel his face warm up, not able to stop his mouth from running on autopilot, unintentionally outing himself as an extremely observant neighbor. “You must be really sore from going to the gym all the time huh?”

There's a silence that falls over you both as you eye him curiously, gaze flickering with the same mischief from earlier, something he can easily spot now and he desperately wants to shrink into himself. 

“Definitely,” you agree with a laugh, “thanks again, have a good night!”

And just like that you’re gone, leaving him with his forehead pressed against his front door as he feels like an idiot. “Really, you must be sore?” He mocks his own voice, rolling his eyes before standing up straight and retreating back into his room to finish the work he had neglected in favor of protecting your package. 

The same package that you were currently clutching onto as you bolted up your stairs with a pair of scissors in the opposite hand, debatably not the safest choice but it had to be done. You feel like a crazed woman as you stab into the clear tape to break the seal, peeling back the flaps and letting out a giddy laugh when you spot the sleek white box, a photo of the device printed on the front. 

With steady hands you pull out the prized toy, carelessly tossing the empty boxes to the side, hearing them land with a light thud. The soft silicone against your thumb fills you with anticipation, a silent click against the first button dulls down the excitement when it refuses to turn on. 

“Stupid fucking chargers.” you grunt, setting the device down and making your way back to the discarded boxes, pulling out the tiny white cable to plug it in. 

The provided pamphlet states a full charge in one hour, plenty of time for you to get a grip on yourself, the last thing you needed was to rip open your blinds and come face to face with your hot neighbor with the crazy eyes you’re sure you were sporting earlier, you really didn’t need to scare him off before the main event. 

Jungkook is none the wiser as he mindlessly scrolls through the endless data in front of him, eyes floating through the numbers in a dazed manner, his mind far too occupied with that stupid package. He knew exactly what it was, proudly deciphering the code of something for sore muscles to spell out vibrator for him in giant neon letters. 

Were you using it now, in your bedroom a good feet away from his own, laid out on your bed directly in his line of sight?

His mind continues to play out salacious scenarios as you finish applying your favorite lotion after the small body shower you took, the silk robe hanging off your shoulder as you bend forward. Your pink toy lays on your bed, the buttons now blinking to indicate a full charge, your plan was now back in motion. 

As you step back into your room and slowly crack open your blinds you realize Jungkook’s are still tightly shut. Looking up into the slowly darkening sky you notice the clouds beginning to loom overhead, a smile spreading on your lips as you think of a way to get Jungkook to open up his blinds for the show. 

Jungkook’s phone buzzes with a text a few seconds later, eyes widening slightly when he realizes it’s from you. 

Y/N 7:02pm : lol does it look like its gonna rain to you?

His head tilts in confusion at your question, nonetheless he stands from his desk, fully sliding up his blinds to stare up at the sky. When he notices the grey clouds he looks down at his phone to start to type, the small flash of movement from across the way making him freeze, looking directly through your window once more and seeing you innocently sitting on your bed, staring right at him with a smile. 

Jungkook can feel how wide his eyes get as he stares at you, leg crossed over the other as you rest back onto your palms, head tilted as you wave at him in greeting. Right where you want him. 

His hand raises up to wave back at you, the voice in his head screaming every obscenity he could think of as he attempts to smile, the grimace in his face making it hard for you not to laugh. 

You start slow, wanting to give him enough time to shut his blinds if he really wants no part in this, your hand coming up to begin pushing the robe off your shoulder further, the first sliver of skin being exposed to his eyes. Jungkook wants to scream, bang his head into the glass as he sees the way your skin glimmers, already knowing you had lathered on that damn lotion of yours. 

When he doesn’t move you let the other sleeve fall down, the swell of your breasts holding up the soft material, shielding them from his sight for another moment. Your eyes never leave his face, needing to see his reaction when you sit up straight and let the material pool around your hips, tits fully exposed for him to see. 

His reaction is well worth it, jaw dropping slightly as he spots the way your nipples harden in the exposed air, forehead nearly ramming into the window when you bring your hand up to pinch and twist at the pebbled buds. He feels his cock stirring in his pants when your head drops back, lips opening up to let out what he knows is the prettiest moan, head leveling out as you bite your lip and stare at him once more. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do as he watches you, champagne colored robe still hooked around your elbows as you reach behind your bed and pick up the pink toy you had bought today. The metallic capped bottom shines in the light and he feels like he’s caught in a trance as you showcase it. 

For a moment your attention drops down, landing on your phone as you quickly type out a message before setting it aside once more. His phone comes to life in his hand, nearly scaring him with its vibrations. 

Y/N 7:18pm : touch yourself please

He swears he’s gonna bust his load then and there, typing out a quick ‘okay’, a message you ignore entirely in favor of turning on your toy. The excited look in your eyes is clear as day when the device buzzes in your hand, Jungkook’s eager fingers unbuttoning his jeans as you start to trail the vibrating head along your body, passing over your nipples and gasping at the ticklish feeling. 

Looking across the way once more you see Jungkook’s gaze locked onto you, his body fully illuminated by his bedroom light, allowing you to see his hands start to push his pants down, taking his black briefs with them. Your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip as he raises his palm up to messily spit into it before coming back down to fist his slowly hardening cock. His covered chest rises and falls as he huffs out a breath, slowly squeezing his shaft as he glides up towards his head, coating his palm in the stray beads of precum that drip out of it. 

This further solidified that Jungkook was a pervert, at least in his own mind, who else would be so eager to jack off to the sight of their neighbor this easily. You didn’t think so though, knowing every one of your actions had a purpose, Jungkook wasn’t a pervert for being a predictable boy, he was doing exactly what you wanted him to do. 

As the head of your toy trails down your chest you take your time, circling your navel before reaching your hips, sliding down your thighs as you lean further back and begin to spread them apart. In a slow movement that Jungkook can’t look away from, you finally reveal yourself to him, folds glistening with your arousal, coating your inner thighs, allowing the toy to glide with ease. 

Jungkook groans loudly as you pass the buzzing toy over your clit, a featherlike touch that makes you twitch and moan, his hand tightening around his cock as he twists on the way up. You were absolutely sin personified, giving him a show as you tease yourself, mouth dropped open as you finally press the toy against your clit, fingers slipping into your entrance and pumping inside of you. He can only imagine the way you sound as you stretch yourself open, hips rolling up into your hand as the pleasure jolts through you. 

Fuck, what he would do to be able to touch you, hear your moans, be the one to hold that toy against you until you were writhing around. 

You can see it in his eyes, the want clouding them as he watches you, his hand steadily pumping his length, quickening up each time your body twitches. When you pull the toy away his brows furrow, releasing his cock as he places his sticky palm against the window, wondering just what you were planning now as you reach for your phone once more. 

It only takes you a few seconds to type out the message and hit send, looking up at him with that same predatory gaze you’ve been wearing all night. As he unlocks his phone again you stand up, letting the robe fully slide off your body, pooling around your feet as you step closer to your window, arms crossed under your chest to push your tits out further as you watch him. 

Y/N 7:32pm : come over

He rereads the message three times, cock still out for you to see as he contemplates his options, finally looking back up and nearly choking when he sees the way you’re almost pressed against your own window, a sweet smile on your lips as you wave him over. That helps him make his decision, locking his phone and groaning as he slips his cock back into his briefs and shimmies his pants back on. 

Your eyes gleam as he turns to exit his room, the light dimming off as he bolts down his stairs towards his front door. When he steps out onto his porch he sees the ground is damp, small droplets now falling from the sky, the chill creeping through his thin layers as he navigates across your connected driveways with his palms covering his extremely prominent bulge. 

“Please be unlocked,” he whispers under his breath when he gets to your door, turning the knob and sighing in relief when it unlocks. Jungkook doesn’t care about manners as he steps in, locking the door behind him and instantly climbing the stairs two at a time, already knowing where your room was since your house was a mirror copy of his own. 

When he finally pushes his door open he finds you perched on your bed, fully naked and waiting for him with that same toy trailing up and down your torso. The need for introductions are thrown out the window as he crosses the room, immediately settling beside you, his large hand cupping your cheek to pull you in for a kiss. 

It catches you by surprise, the normally shy neighbor who got nervous whenever you caught him staring, never expecting him to be the type to go after what he wanted like this but the way he takes control makes you lean into his touch. His lips are tender against yours, hand guiding your face closer as he slowly licks his way into your mouth, a moan of approval leaving you as his warm tongue tickles yours. 

You’d often fantasized about kissing him, wondering if he was the type to tease, to pull back and leave you wanting more but the desperation guides his movements, stops him from not fulfilling his own desires. Jungkook kisses you with passion, hunger leading him until he’s pushing you flat on your back, hands dropping down to gently hold onto your neck. 

The toy is cast to the side, your own hands sliding through his long hair as you sigh into his mouth, the wet smacks of each kiss filling your ears. 

“Take it off,” you mumble against his lips, trailing your hands down his back and tugging his shirt up, determined to rip it off of him to finally see the glorious body you know he has. Jungkook presses a quick kiss against you before kneeling up and pulling his shirt off by his neckline, each inch of exposed skin making your mouth water. 

The way his muscles rippled, pulled taut as he stretches out and tosses the black long sleeve aside, bulging out when he finally relaxes, you can’t help but let your fingers trace each ridge on his stomach. Jungkook lets you take him in, not opposed to the lust swirling in your eyes, your tongue licking over your lips as you admire him, following the lines of each tattoo up his arm until you reach his face. 

“Like what you see?” he murmurs, looking down at you with lidded eyes, letting them roam along your body, the swell of your tits that rise with each breath, how your hips can’t keep still, searching for any bit of friction you could find. 

“You’re fucking unreal.”

He holds his breath when you begin undoing his pants, in a hurry to see his cock without the distance between you. “This is what you wanted isn’t it?” he realizes, the completely unphased look on your face, the perfectly executed texts and package delivery, just knowing that he had done everything you wanted him to do. 

“It was fun though wasn’t it Jungkook, tell me–“ he helps you tug his jeans down, his briefs going with them and joining his shirt on the floor, “What did you like more, seeing me do everyday things or watching me play with myself?”

A choked groan slips past his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock, slowly sliding up his length as you question him, enjoying the way he struggles to respond. “God you’re filthy,” he grunts, jaw slack as you sit up, face now level with his cock as he rests on his knees. 

The sly smirk you give him shows that you know this, know exactly how filthy you are, using it to your advantage to get what you wanted. With bated breath he watches the way you inch forward, tongue sticking out to gently lick the swollen head of his cock, the salty bead of precum picked up by your tongue. 

“Can’t help it.” You sink onto him as the words leave your mouth, lips wrapping around him and he sighs at the warmth that envelops him, the wetness of your tongue circling his tip making his stomach tense up, muscles flexing to keep himself from thrusting into your throat. 

The small moan you let out as he fills your mouth makes his body rattle, the feeling of his dick heavy on your tongue as you slide further down, wrapping your hand around the base to steady yourself. This was much more satisfying than seeing him play with himself a few feet away, the sighs of appreciation that float in the air each time you pull back make you keep going, wanting to see him fall apart. 

Jungkook doesn’t know when his hands tangle themselves in your hair, taking it upon himself to guide you up and down his length, starting a filthy rhythm that lit his body up. He urges you down more, hands coaxing you, pushing you further onto him until you’re choking as he fills your throat. He doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier, eyes full of tears, nose pressed against his stomach as you hum around his cock. 

He pulls you off of him a few seconds later, the wet gasp you let out ripping through the air as you catch your breath but that sly smile remains on your face, eyeing his messy length, bobbing slightly as he moves around. 

Leaning over you once more his hands cup your face, thumb rubbing under your eyes where he spots the unshed tears threatening to spill over, collecting against your lower lashes. “Fuck, I bet you’re pretty when you cry.”

The rasp in his voice makes your stomach flip, more wetness coating your thighs and further ruining your sheets. “Make me,” you whisper, smiling when his eyebrows raise in question. “Make me cry Jungkook.”

His cock throbs at your response, wanting nothing more than to do what you want, turn you into a crying mess as you beg for him like he often thought about. “You sure?”

With a small nod you’re crawling backwards, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees, arching your back for him as he eyes your exposed cunt, sodden folds shining when you wiggle your hips. “I’m sure.”

Jungkook fists his cock as he approaches you, slotting his knees between your thighs, inching forward until he’s circling your entrance in a teasing motion. Flashes of the way you had spread yourself open minutes prior play in his mind as he slowly breaches your entrance, the first feeling of you taking his breath away, eyes falling shut as you let out the first moan. 

Your hands fist the sheets as he stretches you open, his size filling you up so deliciously, inch by inch splitting you open. He can’t look away from it, mesmerized with the way you take him in, molding around him like he was meant to be there. 

A whimper leaves you as he presses his palms onto your ass, holding you still once he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against you, walls fluttering around him as he gives you time to adjust to his size. 

“This is–“ you groan when he slides back a little, “this is just how I pictured it.” The laughter laced in your voice piques his interest, leaning over your body to see you with your face pressed against your sheets, a teasing smile on your face. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook questions, tightening his grip on your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh, no doubt marking them for you to see later. “You pictured getting fucked from behind by your neighbor?”

“Mhm,” you squeal out, giggling when he starts to fuck into you, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in, the small smack of your skin mixing in with your laughter and moans. 

“I knew it,” he grunts, trailing his hand up your spine, around your neck until his palm was pressing your face into the mattress, holding you down as he ravished you, stretched you apart and turned your impure thoughts into mush. “Knew you did it on purpose, fuck, do you know how guilty I felt?”

Your walls tighten around him and he moans out at the feeling, the warmth sucking him back in each time he pulled out, the wet squelch of you soaking his cock getting louder each time. 

“S-sorry.” It's quiet, but he knows you don’t mean it, knows the words are lace with trouble as you start to rut back onto him, the playful smile felt against his palm spelling it out for him. 

“Oh you’re sorry?” Jungkook picks up his merciless pace, knowing he found the right rhythm when you let out a cry of surprise, arching further for him and keening as he nudges against your sweet spot, the first sparks of your orgasm flashing within you. The fact that you were getting what you want sending you closer to the edge faster than expected. 

“No, I’m not,” you admit, shamelessly moaning with each thrust. There was no way in hell you were sorry, if this was the outcome you’d do it all again the same exact way. Jungkook wouldn’t argue with that, the earlier guilt he felt long gone, replaced with pure hunger, only increasing when your moans start to get breathier, the panting felt against his hand, hot and heavy as you whimpered. 

“I know you’re not, you love putting on a show for me huh, knowing I was watching you from my window while you fucked with me.”

His words make your mind spin, the intoxicating roll of his hips dragging you under into the same state of desperation he was in, weeks of mindless torture fueling the both of you with more than enough sexual frustration. 

“I loved it,” you whine when he pushes your face harder into the sheets, the roughness he’s displaying making your stomach flip, thighs spreading out further for him and you let out a trembling moan when he sinks deeper into you. 

You were going to cum, he recognized the way your body tightened up, walls clamping around him, making him curse as he continues to rut into you. Jungkook smiles as you cry out, chest pushing into your mattress, hands pulling at your sheets in desperation until suddenly, you’re cumming with a shout of his name, the feeling taking you completely by surprise. “F-fuck, Jungkook.”

He gasps as you gush around him, dripping down your thighs, creaming his cock until it's slick with your arousal. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time pulling out of you, needing to see your face as he sank back into you, now on your back with a dazed out smile. 

A soft groan drips off your tongue, thick and needy when he bottoms out once more, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he starts to rock into you, forehead sweaty with his long hair falling around his face. It frames him perfectly, a simple curtain letting you see every expression he gives you, a private show just for you to witness. 

“Wanna make you cry,” he confesses, bending down and kissing your chest, his right hand mindlessly swatting at the bed until he finds exactly what he’s looking for, that damn vibrator he had guarded with his life earlier. 

The second the small vibrations meet your ears, your eyes go wide, catching the evil smirk on his lips as he holds the toy between you, fidgeting with the settings until it’s low enough to start. “Wait Jungkook, I’m sensitive.”

He leans back enough to trail the head down your stomach, taunting you as he circles your hips and reaches your mound. “You told me to make you cry though didn’t you baby?”

The excitement rushes through you once more, letting out shaky gasp as he just barely touches your sensitive clit, your body jolting and squeezing around his cock. Jungkook shuts his eyes at the feeling, bringing it back to rest against the tiny pearl, the low settings making a hum course through you, your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

“Ah, Jungkook,” you cry, chest heaving as he starts to fuck you again, hips swirling around, unsure if you want to retreat from the toy or press against it harder, the slight sting of pain morphing into pleasure the longer he keeps it up. 

“What?” he mocks, raising the settings until you’re shouting, a delirious laugh following suit as your thighs tighten around his waist in reflex. Jungkook knows you love this, your teeth biting down onto your bottom lip as you stare at him with glassy eyes full of tears, urging him to fuck you harder, begging him for more. 

He does what you ask, pistoning his hips into you with enough force to jostle your body, the head of his cock just shy of hitting your cervix, waves of pleasure mixing in with the vibrations against your clit. Jungkook can feel his own orgasm creeping up on him, crawling up his spine, goosebumps flaring out on his skin, each wet thrust and cry from you only pushing him closer. 

Jungkook watches you carefully, lost in his own pleasure but focused enough to see the way your eyes well up further, the needy sobs you release as he fucks you just right wrapping around him and urging him on, not wanting to hold back when this is what you’ve been wanting. 

The small inkling to be mean and actually see the tears fall spurs something inside of him. With a few more clicks the vibrator hits the highest setting, buzzing intensely against your clit and you nearly thrash at the sudden feeling, back arching up as you gasp. 

Jungkook chuckles, the low timbre making you whimper as he presses the head of the toy harder against you. “You gonna cum again, make a big mess around my cock?”

“Jungkook,” it’s a choked cry of his name, your arms seeking purchase around his frame, needing something to ground you as you start to float off. 

“C’mon, wanna see you cry.” He watches in awe as your body tenses of for a moment, the pleasure catching just right to push you over. 

“Fuck, fuck–“ you chant, words slurring together as a second orgasm is pulled out of you, eyes rolling back when the euphoric feeling crashes over you, tears finally spilling over and body turning limp as he continues to fuck you through it just like the last one. He feels like he won as the wetness pools under your eyes, brows furrowing together as you mewl at the feeling of your orgasm cresting, heartbeat slowing in your chest as you come down. 

“So good,” he mumbles at the high vibrations felt against his cock, the flutters from your velvety walls keeping him from turning it off, sliding it down a bit closer to your entrance until he’s gasping as well. 

“Too much,” you plead, eyes misty as you stare at him, mouth dropping open in a quiet moan when he ruts against you in search of his own release. His free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that had fallen against your skin. 

“I knew you’d look pretty when you cry.” He sighs, shutting his eyes when you pulse around his length. “I’m almost there, you okay?”

His concern makes you smile, nodding as you place your hand over his own on your face, dealing with the oversensitivity for him to get his own release. “Yeah, cum inside me please.”

Jungkook groans in response, sliding the vibrator further down until it rests against the base of his cock, gliding along his length with each of his thrusts, the buzzing making his body tingle. 

“Shit,” he grunts out, hips fucking you with more urgency, rutting against you sloppily, eyes opening up to stare directly at you and the lustfilled look you give him is what pushes him over. A choked groan dies in his throat when he sinks into you as deep as he can, spurts of his cum filling you up as his face twists in pleasure, mouth dropped open to release a soft moan that you swallow with a sweet kiss.  

You hum against his lips when he thrusts shallowly a few more times until finally coming to a halt, turning off the toy and chucking it aside with no care before collapsing on top of you in pure dramatics. Jungkook has no qualms about how much he weighs, making himself right at home as he nuzzles into your chest, sighing in content when you rake your fingers through his hair. 

“I feel sweaty, and I know I made a mess on your sheets.” Jungkook mumbles out, cheek pressed against your tits, eyes slipped shut with his slowly softening cock still inside of you. No doubt would your sheets be damp with an unholy mixture of the night's debauchery, something you would surely deal with later. 

“It’s okay, I like the mess.” Your words are meant to be joking but the way his cock twitches inside you shows he takes everything you say seriously, simply rolling your eyes with a smile as you tease him further. “You’re a pervert.”

Jungkook scoffs at this now, taking full offense as he pulls out of you with an accusatory glare, eyes zeroing in on your evil smile as you prop yourself up against your headboard. “I’m the pervert?” When you nod he laughs loudly, finger pointing at you in a less than threatening manner, “Says the one who gave me free shows every night!”

“It’s not my fault you’re easy to rope in, you were hooked the second you saw me have that dance party in here huh?”

He nods instantly, knowing exactly what night you were talking about, it was the night he had moved in, before you had even realized he was your neighbor, having a full on dance party to some top 40’s from the 2000’s playlist you found. That was the first night he ever saw you and ever since then he had left his blinds cracked just to see a glimpse of you, not knowing what lewd ideas you had planned. 

“Was it the facemask that did it for you?” You laugh, playfully nudging his side with your foot as he glares, the small smile on his face showing you he wasn’t taking this seriously. 

“No, it was those sexy ass boyshorts you had on, I think they were grey. They made your ass look nice.”

He laughs with you as you squeal, knowing exactly what pair of underwear you had on, the oversized shirt doing nothing to hide them as you danced around like a lunatic. 

“Is this gonna be a thing?” he wonders, taking it upon himself to enter your bathroom to grab a towel, the least he could do was clean up the mess he had caused between your thighs. 

“What?”

“Should I text you about the weather tomorrow, call you over to mine this time? I’ll let you choke me if you’re into that.” He says it so casually it catches you by surprise, a cackle leaving you as he finishes cleaning you up, handing you your robe to cover up as he slips back into his underwear. 

“Are you into that?”

“I could be,” he winks, flopping onto your bed beside you, letting his hand trail up your thigh until it reaches the hem of your robe, tracing the goosebumps that flare up because of it. 

That was definitely something you could work with, mind already planning out the next time you’d torture your neighbor, wondering just how your hands would look like wrapped around his thick neck. Maybe you could see if he looked pretty when he cried. 

He spots the mischief in your face instantly but before he could indulge you further, there was one thing absolutely eating away at his mind. “By the way, you never added me to that gossip group chat.”

Your lips purse into a tight smile as your fingers return to his hair, twirling each strand as you hold back a laugh, knowing it absolutely did not exist. You weren’t in the mood to crush his spirit, knowing he desperately wanted to know the ins of the neighborhood gossip so you simply shrug in faux apology, telling yet another white lie. “My bad, I’ll add you tomorrow.”

It’s good enough for Jungkook pressing a kiss against your thigh as he thinks of what the following night will bring, his mind also picturing just how cute your hands would look around his neck.