#its too much for one person to always be doing that

[kwoniele]

his (favorite) cheerleader

synopsis: cheerleading practice seems to affect seungcheol a lot more than you expected.

genre: smut

pairing: seungcheol x cheerleader!reader

wc: 737

warnings: rough sex! clearly i have a kink.. creampie, unprotected sex (please do NOT do this! use protection always) overprotective cheol, praise, scratching 😝, BABE THIS ISNT PROOFREAD ☺️ none of my works are tbh. i think thats all? please lmk if there are more!

authors note: hiii im baackkk!! this was supposed to be a celebratory fic for from behind but unfortunately i got quite occupied with my assignments (ack?) and didn’t get to ginish but u can read this as a standalone haha also my requests are open! please request SOMETHING im in need of ideas.. ok bye enjoy

nervous.

thats how you made seungcheol feel.

honestly, he would have never felt this way if he had stopped you from wearing the skimpy skirt for cheerleading practice. you asked him permission before choosing to wear it for the day because one: you would hate to make him feel like you’re dressing like a slut for everyone to see and two: the girls in your crew are bringing their boyfriends.

you would never admit it, but the girls in your squad have terrible taste for men. all of them are either desperate for a quick fuck with anyone but their girlfriends, or theyre in denial and swear to like women but seem to enjoy having drinks with your boyfriend instead.

but seungcheol didn’t hold you back. he swore it was okay and that you looked amazing in the skirt. he explained that he was going to be right beside you the entire time and that things were going to be alright. because he was there.

he was concerned that the boys would be very much eyeing you for a minute too long, or your name would be the name they’d be chanting for the entire game rather than their girlfriend’s.

he was wrong.

he was the person he was worried about.

the way the skirt almost barely covered your ass, the way your hair stuck to your forehead sticky with sweat, how your chest heaved whenever you finished a routine; he felt like he was going absolutely insane.

regardless of the fact he promised you he’d behave, he wasn’t doing a good job of fulfilling it. he could feel his cock slowly growing in his pants and he was not trying to hide it.

“seungcheol-ah, if you’re in need of relief, we’d really appreciate it if you could do it somewhere else and not on the freshly cleaned bleachers.” irene’s boyfriend lightly elbowed seungcheol,

cheol shot him a glare before his eyes slowly rested on you again. you were hot. if male ovulation was a thing, cheol was the epitome of it. all he heard was ringing and inaudible chatter as his attention was focused on you. his eyes were in the shape of hearts as he watched you perform.

he couldn't wait to go home. he just knew what he’d do to you as soon as you step foot into your house.

—

“haa~ cheol!” if he had asked you to count how many times you’ve come tonight, you wouldn’t be able to answer him. your cum had made a creamy white ring around his cock, slowly growing thicker and thicker as his thrusts began to pick up rhythm faster than the one before.

your voice began to strain, sweat started to trickle down the back of your neck, your hips were burning red as seungcheol showed no mercy at all. it was as if his dick had a mind of its own. his tip kisses your g-spot, making you arch from the bed as cheol’s hand pushed you down.

“you were so fucking pretty out there. did you know that? i was worried the boys would be a fucking idiot around you— fuck.” he threw his head back in a moan. “but it turns out, i was the one going insane.”

his lips traveled to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses beside the bruises he had made earlier. his thumb rubbed your clit, causing you to whine controllably as your gripped onto his shoulders. “pleaaase, let me cum!”

“yeah? my baby wants to cum?” seungcheol rapidly thrusted into you—if that was even possible—even more, making you slip out incoherent words as your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“yes! yes! yes! please let me cum please!” your nails clawed his back, leaving dark red marks as he winces in pain.

“fuck, cum with me okay?” you nodded in agreement, not caring about the neighbours who were probably wide awake, or the open windows that seungcheol didn’t bother to shut, or your cheerleading outfit that you definitely needed the following day.

“you can cum, beautiful.” he painted your walls with white ribbons as you breathed heavily—cumming right after him. you came so hard that you saw stars. as soon as you finally caught your breath, seungcheol was already rubbing you with a warm cloth, cleaning up his mess.

“you’re so responsible, you know?”

“mhm, i am. just not when you’re at cheerleading practice.” you giggle.

“you should come more often.”

[vrystalius]

I know i just requested with weird nicknames for squid game characters.

But I want to see their reaction to your wallpaper being them or being another person. Literally obsessed with what you write its so cute. Take my heart ❤️

Squid Game men’s reaction for putting them as your phone’s wallpaper.

They randomly check your phone one day and find a picture of themselves staring back. How will they react? What kind of wallpaper do they have?

Pairing: Recruiter, Thanos, Nam-gyu x gn!reader

Summary: You putting them as your phone wallpaper, them putting you as their phone wallpaper

Genre: Fluff, maybe a little angst in Nam-gyu’s part (mention of drug use)

Words: 800 per character

Note: I wrote this during my medicine and head concussion induced haze, forgive me for any inconsistencies or mistakes 😭🙏 Also, the middle pictures are a suggestion as what said wallpaper could be.

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // Salesman

— Choosing you as your wallpaper. —

Mostly surprise and confusion spread swirled in his mind the first time he stared back at himself in the form of your phone wallpaper. He never thought you’d screenshot this picture let alone use it as your wallpaper because c’mon— let’s be honest, you could’ve chosen any other picture of him and yet you decided on this.

It’s weird. Gong Yoo feels a little watched as he tries to find the food delivery app on your phone while having his own eyes stare back at him.

Although he had grown more and more fond of it every time he opened your phone anew. He sees how you grin a little when turning on your screen, how you sometimes giggle when you stare at it for too long. Sometimes you show it off to him and complain about he barely ever wears any skincare masks anymore.

“So you can have a new wallpaper? I don’t think so. My skin is fine for now, thank you darling.”

To be really honest, he finds it incredibly endearing that you chose him as your wallpaper, especially a picture like this. He thinks of himself as a sophisticated, charming, handsome salesman that lures desperate people into a death game and messes with homeless people in his free time, but you seemingly just see him as your soulmate, the love of your life, your husband.

— Choosing you as his wallpaper. —

Two months into the relationship and after a couple of dates, Gong Yoo already set you as his phone wallpaper. It was nice to have a reminder looking back at him to text you, check in on you, give you a call or even come by for dinner. A reminder that he has a special someone to care and love for.

He switches his wallpaper up every few weeks or months, wanting to keep it updated to your appearance. His chosen pictures are mostly intimate ones, snaps he takes while you are being unaware of how cute, attractive or adorable you look.

Pictures like when you are asleep on the couch in his arms after watching a movie, you after waking up and sleepily brushing your teeth in the mirror, you showing your back to him while waiting for the microwave to finish heating up the cheap convenience food, maybe even you stuffing your face with ice cream after a long day.

Whatever picture he may choose (much to your dismay), it always makes him smile to himself no matter the situation. Even if another homeless person asks him for spare change or those two random mobsters tried to jump him in an alleyway and now he was forced to “get rid of them”, a quick glance on his phone and seeing a cute picture of you immediately forces a smile to break out on his face.

The sight of their kidnapper smiling at his phone so lovingly while they were tied up and playing rock-paper-scissors for their lives probably made the two men shit their pants more than feeling the barrel of a revolver being pressed against the side of their head.

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

— Choosing him as your wallpaper. —

At first, Thanos reeeaaaallly disliked the picture you chose as your wallpaper. It was just a random reaction picture he send you one day about something he doesn’t even remember, and you went ahead and chose this as your phone wallpaper? Seriously?! Can’t you choose something more handsome, flattering?

He even offered to pose properly for you so you have a better pic to use, but after Thanos obviously started mewing and tried his absolute best to look as attractive as possible (which he already is but shhh), your boyfriend got extremely offended when you started laughing at his posing.

Your boyfriend gave up after a few attempts of secretly changing your wallpaper and seeing you pout every time he did, changing it right back to the one before.

If you really like it that much, fine. Just don’t let anyone see that you have that as your phone wallpaper, or else his rapper persona will never be able to recover from being exposed like that.

You don’t even understand why he is being so dramatic about your wallpaper anyway.

“I look hella ugly there, c’mon baby! Work with me here!! Here, lemme pose for you real quick so you can change that thing.”

Although it does flashbang you in the middle of the night when you turn on your phone, the brightness of the picture vaporising your eyes in an instant. It’s not the most pleasant thing to look at first thing in the morning but you still think he looks kinda cute in the pic.

— Choosing you as his wallpaper. —

He was careful to choose the prettiest picture of you he can find and the proceed to show it off to everyone he meets. Thanos even showed you off to Nam-gyu multiple times, forgetting that he already showed his friend the same picture four times now. Nam-gyu is already totally looking forward to next week when Thanos shows you off again.

Your boyfriend grins like a child whenever he glances at his phone for too long, falling in love with your picture all over again.

He changes his wallpaper every week so he always has something cute to look at after performing at another underground club or while doing whatever, sometimes getting distracted from searching for a certain app and instead ending up scrolling through either your social media account or his photo library to search for more pics of you.

Whenever you catch Thanos grin at his phone again, your first instinct is to glance over his shoulder to check what exactly he is looking at, but he immediately closes his phone when you do. At first you thought he might be looking at some random girl’s profile or whatever, but when you open it up and find yourself staring back, you’re kind of surprised to be honest.

Although, he always denies that he really cares about his wallpaper. Your boyfriend is totally choosing it at random and totally does not match his lock screen with his homescreen and mostly chooses pictures of you two together, you kissing his cheek or him holding you. Not at all!

Nam-gyu // Player 124

— Choosing you as your wallpaper. —

You choose a rather cute picture as your wallpaper. You took it during one of your first dates where you dragged him to a festival that was being held near your home, dragging Nam-gyu there against his will. Back then he had shorter hair, wore his glasses more frequently. Back then he was a little shy believe it or not, at least when it came to romance.

He used more before he met you, being around alcohol and drugs at all times due to his occupation. It kind of came with his job and the circle of friends he was around, so before meeting you, there was barely any day he wasn’t high or having a hangover from some random drug.

Nam-gyu never noticed you had this picture as your phone wallpaper until he accidentally grabbed your phone, thinking it was his. Seeing this picture in particular gave him a brief jumpscare.

You took this picture after he managed to scrap out the star shape out of the sugar cookie he bought from a random stand during the festival. His hair was shorter back then and he wore his glasses more frequently, the mask a reminder of how times were 5 years ago. He struggled staying clean during that time and always felt like shit wich is why he didn’t want to go to the festival in the first place.

He didn’t even know you took this picture of him despite him fully looking at the camera. A small smile spread on his face at the thought of you really choosing a picture like this as your phone wallpaper.

Quickly putting your phone down, Nam-gyu quickly played off his reaction as he hard you come into the room.

“I’m smiling about nothing, shaddup. Go back to wherever you came from.”

With a dismissive hand wave, he tried to shoo you away. His attempts were futile as you instead pull him into a clingy hug, instead demanding cuddles instead. Who was he to deny your wish?

— Choosing you as his wallpaper. —

Nam-gyu likes taking 0.5x zoom pictures of you from above and choosing them as his phone wallpaper, pushing you away as you try to protest and stop him from putting them as his wallpaper because seriously, he can literally choose any other pic!

You can hear quiet, evil “hehe”s from the corner of the room whenever you two are together and he turns on his phone, briefly turning it around so you can see what he was giggling so stupidly at, only for him to giggle harder at the sight of your unamused face.

Even if he mainly chooses those pictures as his phone wallpaper to annoy you, he likes having a stupid picture of you always available to him.

Some shitty guy searching for a fight at the club? Quick glance at your face at a 0.5x zoom makes him crack a smile right after. Thanos called him Nam-su, Gyu-nam or literally anything else but his name again? Turning his phone on lightens his mood immediately.

Sure, a flattering or cute picture of you would have the same effect on him, but this is much funnier in his opinion.

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

HAPPY LATE VALETINES DAYYYYYYY!!!! Since tumblr limits your tags to 30 tags per post I always have trouble tagging all of the Squid Game men, so I decided to split this one prompt into two posts. If this gets enough attention / love, I’ll post a part 2 with Dae-ho, Gi-hun and In-ho! Also, thank you for requesting, I needed a break from writing my smut draft 😭

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[alpacaradio]

There really is no excuse. Taken with much generosity, its constant discussion of transmisandry is coming from a place of hurt - but as soon as it's talking about trans women, you can immediately tell that OP has never really understood one.

I've never met a trans woman who hasn't grappled deeply with the expectations of masculinity on her and indeed often that very thing led her to identify her own womanhood. I found my own way to recognizing who I am through grappling with the expectations on me and how uncomfortable I was with them!

It was a role that I always implicitly rejected and was uncomfortable with. This story is so common I think it more likely than not you've heard it if you know even a single trans woman. To know many and not be deeply familiar with it seems ... almost impossible. I can only conclude that the OP hasn't really listened.

And in all of this, "if transmascs need to sit for hours and unlearn transmisogyny, fine. but" but nothing at all, because you clearly haven't done the work to put anything after that sentence making demands of a community. You're talking about us like you've done the work to really know and understand trans women, and you've even appealed to multiple evil tranny behaviors, behaviors I've literally never seen from any trans woman, to the point where I think the problem is mostly you.

It is so easy to see that so much of what is in genderqueerdyke's response is specific issues with specific trans women being projected onto an entire community, including so many things which are obviously a consequence of simply not listening to or refusing to believe us.

Yes! I know sex workers, too! Yes, our bodies are constantly fetishized for our maleness even though we are not male. And yes, there are clients who seek out trans women specifically seeing us as men. We're surrounded by chasers. What I find surprising is not that a sex worker you knew had clients who told her they were attracted to her for her maleness, but that you refused to believe her, because I'd say it's more likely than not that any trans woman who's ever done sex work has been told that very thing. But you refuse to believe the things women have told you, and so you put doubt on that part of our experience too. You had to make our lived experience sound impossible, so that describing our experiences sounds like bigotry rather than fact.

I'm so annoyed I popped into second person, but I do not really want to talk to it at all. I don't want it to talk to me or anyone else; I want it to stop talking about trans women entirely until it can fucking believe even one of us and not talk over us and decide our experiences for us.

Any time someone says, "I need to unlearn X? Fine, but" your hackles should be raised. This is someone that really should not be trying to speak about the community of trans women.

I guess this is something the community has generally known about Equinox, but damn, this isn't a mistake or something you can just apologize for; this is evidence of an entire way of thinking that underlies every rant I've ever seen about transmisandry. How am I supposed to believe any differently when I've only ever seen it post through all of this and never really actually grapple with it? How are we supposed to get "solidarity" when solidarity means putting up with the abuse of being bombarded with this belief system the moment we let our guard down? the moment we're comfortable with ourselves? @genderqueerdykes is not someone who can truly be in community with me, and I think not someone to feel comfortable around as a trans woman. If I were its friend I would hold my cards damn close to my chest.

Pretend you didn't see that.

This is a level of transmisogyny that is somewhat hard to comment on because the things that one would normally point out as transmisogynistic implications are said so brazenly that there can be no pretense about any of the involved parties being unaware of it. The authors know, the readers know, everybody understands that this is pure transmisogyny. There is no plausible deniability.

It's an attempt to establish proximity between transfems and cis manhood in every way possible. Their bodies, their histories, their "socialization", the way they are treated by others, the way they treat and view others, their ways of thinking, even their self-conception. Every aspect of their being is cast as essentially male. Transfems are being called "men" in all but name - and not just any "men", they are made into embodiments of the worst aspects of hegemonic manhood. Not just male socialized but continuing to benefit from male socialization. Not just engaging in abusive behaviors stemming from male socialization but being afforded the freedom to do so because they continue to be treated as men. (Suffice it to say that this does not align with reality)

This is unadulterated sex-essentialism and it's intentionally being used to delegitimize and devalue the standpoint of transfems in feminist discourses. It's clear that the author is projecting transmisogynist ideas onto transfems and simply assumes that these ideas must be correct without considering any alternative. (The fact that transfems do not internalize "male socialization" has been reiterated many times over and should not have to be continually reasserted. This is a baseline level of understanding that we should be able to expect and demand from members of our community.)

Misogyny is framed as being contained within the realms of sexed bodies and gendered socialization in such a way that it allows for the casting of transfems as people enacting misogyny without being primary targets themselves - like cis men.

The claim that the animosity some transfems exhibit towards men comes from wanting to "prove" their womanhood serves the double purpose of casting their womanhood as inauthentic and denying the misogyny they suffer at the hands of men. One would be hard pressed to find a more cruel mischaracterization of transfems' experiences than this.

The cynical misappropriation of the standpoint of the people this screed is directed at by the use of "we" despite making it abundantly clear that the behavior that is being criticized and its supposed causes exempt people such as the author from the possibility of engaging in it should also be noted as an attempt at weaponizing a compromised version of standpoint epistemology against transfems.

The only plausible target audience for this kind of rhetoric are those who carry extreme ressentiment towards transfems and are susceptible to softened formulations of TERF ideology. These are the same kinds of ideas that TERFs have tried to push into trans spaces numerous times, e.g. under names like "sex-conscious feminsim".

A formulaic "retreat" from this post consisting entirely of platitudes has been published after the author received backlash for it but nobody is under any obligation to accept it and they absolutely should not. A person who was very obviously attempting to promote TERF ideology in trans spaces and in the same stroke accused transfems of being uniquely prone to making false accusations is not trustworthy, even if that person backs down upon realizing that the reception is more uniformly negative than anticipated.

@genderqueerdykes @gateway-2000 is a transmisogynist, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Its entire worldview is permeated by transmisogynistic assumptions, ideas and biases at a fundamental level. It has straightforwardly expressed an understanding of transfems' interiorities, their experiences and their social positions that is so incorrect that one has to wonder how someone holding these views could have navigated trans communities for a considerable amount of time without encountering the many transfeminist rebuttals to all of its demagoguery. How could someone with even a passing level of familiarity with TERF ideology or "gender critical feminism" read and espouse these ideas without recognizing them? It's completely unthinkable. It's not unreasonable to assume that it simply misjudged the consensus within its audience as being sufficiently anti-transfeminist for ideas such as these to fall upon fertile ground and it is now going back to waiting until the time is ripe to reintroduce them and to expressing them in more subtle ways until then.

But you can't un-ring a bell.

We can and should assert boundaries against reactionaries engaging in obvious subversion such as this. Refusing to do so is a deleterious error in judgement. This is very far beyond the limits of what any trans community that wants to consider transfems a part of itself can be allowed to tolerate.

[finnsterus]

2 orc mates who absolutely obsess over you in the cutest ways.

Hair is a big part of their culture and taking care of eachothers hair is a very intimate thing, certain hair styles can indicate different things like your relationship status. You however, do not know this, you just think your orcs really like playing with your hair and you of course dont mind it because your hair always looks flawless and healthy.

When you first started dating them they competed for your attention, but on their own they came up with a truce, sometimes they share you and sometimes they are allowed to switch with you on certain things, like they take turns on who goes to the store with you or who showers with you (because only two can fit in that shower, especially cuz orcs are huge.) they do preffer doing most things together like cooking, cleaning, social activites, and of course anything involving the bed.

Their favorite way to lay (and only way they accept) is you sandwiched inbetween them on your giant bed. All your blankets have been nicely folded and put away in a closet considering your inbetween two giant furnaces who smother you in their sleep. Their Arms and legs wrapped around you, leaving little skin exposed to the cool air of your room. If you had a blanket over you too you would probably die of heat stroke.

Sometimes they snore and at first it drove you crazy but eventually it actually helped you sleep, like white noise. Their lungs are so big that when they snore the tone is a much deeper sound than a humans, making it less abrasive. You also kinda like the vibrations their chests make against your body, like a little massage.

Every morning you wake up to gentle hands carressing your hips and waist, lazy shapes being drawn over your chubby tummy. When you open your eyes you can always count on seeing 4 loving eyes staring lazily at your disheveled form, your previously neatly braided hair frizzy and lopsided and your eyes squinting from the sunlight that leaks through the blinds. They dont see any of that that though, they see the most beautiful woman with the perfect body and the perfect face and the perfect personality that they have the pleasure of calling theirs.

They do warship you in a way and in the beginning it does make you pretty uncomfortable because your not used to being treated so good, at first it just comes of as overbearing and overprotective, maybe even a little misogynistic. They insist on doing everything for you, wether its something like opening a door or going up stairs. The first time they swooped you up to carry you up the stairs you yelped and yelled at them to put you down, that was the saddest puppy eyes you have ever seen til this day. In time you did learn that it is part of their culture and “courting” ritual, that they only ever had good intentions and you eventually learned to love the princess treatment.

When you get to the stage of intimacy in your relationship you couldnt be happier. No other beings no matter how many there are could ever satisfy you better than them. They learn your body in and out, they know every freckle scar and weak spot. They focus so heavily on you they sometimes forget to even try to cum. They may bicker sometimes but when it comes to you and your body they wholy agree that the only right choice is to do whatever it takes to make you feel as good as they can and they have mastered working together on it. They work in complete synchronization, one working your sensitive clit and sucking your nipples while the other sucks on your neck, pumping his fingers in and out of you at the perfect speed, his fingers curled to hit just the right spot to drive you crazy. Something you really enjoy is how willing they are to explore new things either you, wether its a new position, a new toy, or a new fantasy. They will do anything to make their sweet girl feel good.

[bbadandboujee]

RANDOM ASTRO OBSERVATIONS CUS IM SEXY! ₉⁹₉

it’s like 1 a.m here and life been lowk so good..so a nigga just had to make this, plus its bhm and almost a yn bday! these observations will consist of randomness, drunken thoughts, and just real raw realness babe. sit back and relax, grab the yarts and the weed too!

don’t copy..or do..idgaf tbh

OBSERVATIONS:

edit: i’ve been lowkey into scary movies lately, lmk if y’all want me to dive DEEP into a character..and recommend some books pls!

✟ jupiter 5h in the solar return chart: PROJECT X SUMMER. that’s it, literally prepare for an extremely fun year, doing activities, stepping out of your comfort zone, making hella connections, and most importantly having fun, you literally feed the soul with how much fun you’re having! i feel like with this placement since 5h rules children you’ll most likely meet hella younger people, or just people that bring out your inner child. you’ll most likely have luck in your creative passions, whatever you set your mind to really! if you wanna start that clothing line, nail business (especially if its in gemini), or anything of the sort, do IT!! we believe in you! also with this placement you’ll have a LOT of suitors ofc if you put yourself out there, the sign its in can give you a sense of who they are.

how this manifested for me:

so like i’m going to a party in atl for the summer! ☺️ i’ve been going out more, traveling this year, and just getting out of my comfort zone, putting myself out there too and i’m actually making connections lol, got instagram back, and also i’ve been changing my music taste?? like i like a bit of everything now! i’m also getting a new job YUP!! and OVERLY making money for the fun of it.

✟ pisces risings in the natal chart: NOBODY TALKS ABOUT HOW GOOD Y’ALL LOOK TATTED UP WITH PIERCINGS?? like omg i be wanting to eat this one person UP!! but seriously, y’all beauty is like no other, and i have the feeling that some of you may have features that many get surgery for? for example big lips. also, i’ve never seen a short pisces risings before? usually y’all are like 5’6 and above, maybe thats just me though..but back to y’alls beauty, i feel like you guys look good in anything since your looks are always changing, y’all can adapt to any style really! i find you guys overly cool though.

✟ mk so i have a little theory about saturn in the 7h, i do feel like y’all do get married late but only to the right person, since saturn does give you rewards after a long period. i also feel like your past partners were NOT IT, especially since saturn gives you lessons to prepare you. i also feel like once you do get married there’s no going back, like sticking till death do y’all part, you do tend to marry your partner until old age.

✟ mars conjunct sun synastry: have this with my #bf, the physical attraction is there and depending on the sign, say Capricorn, could last forever. you’ll be so physically attracted to this person to the point where you and them are the only person in the room! this is oddly specific i feel like physically you’ll sweat when you’re near them a lot? mk but also, this is specific too but this person may not like your dad too, but anyways, yeah hot and heavy placement seriously. i feel like you’ll feel confident when your with them if you’re the sun person obviously, and i do think mars could stare at you a lot since sun rules over identity..but anyways you get the point lol.

✟ generational curse breakers are so special to me, not only are they tuff asl, but they’ve been thru some deep dark shit that i can’t even imagine. i’ve noticed people who usually prosper from this is pluto in the 4h, north node in the 4h & saturn in the 4h. they usually have to endure the storm before the victory so they can pass down their wisdom down to their generations, i also feel like this could be a wealth placement hear me out..cus yk saturn don’t play about their people!! but anyways you obviously don’t need these placements to become a generational curse breakers, it depends on the entire chart.

✟ venus positively aspecting mars: #meandyou WERE A BLESSING! we attract both genders as well, and we get along with everyone, we’re social butterflies, like what’s not to like about us?? never ever seen someone with this placement who wasn’t serving kunt!! like..

✟ mercury in the 10h in the natal chart: best book writers ever!! i feel like any genre we adapt to it so fucking well!! like, and technology too!! it’s like we were born with it in a way? lol. i feel like with this placement also this is good for people who want to be an influencer, and i feel like this could be a fame placement for them. i was lowkey famous on tiktok, but then my page got deleted 💔 but you catch my drift, also a good placement for nail artists too.

✟ omg i have to know whats in a chart of a tattoo artist??! the most i can think of is neptune in the 5h..like yoo how tf do they be doing ts? like ik it took YEARS, but to master such a beautiful skill like that is very impressive.

✟ mk! thats enough for now..i’m sleepy lowkey but yeah! lmk if you guys liked this! ☺️

[miumura]

STUPID CUPID! ─── JAEHYUN ONESHOT ✶

𓊆 🪽 𓊇 CUPID’S HANDBOOK ✶ Nothing could've prepared Jaehyun for the moment you, his ex, walked through the doors of his matchmaking business, hoping to find someone new. As a Cupid undercover, he sees this as his chance to finally move on by setting you up with someone "better." Determined to prove he's over you, Jaehyun throws himself into the task—only for a small mishap with his powers to send everything spiraling out of control.

OR IN WHICH Instead of helping you find love, Jaehyun accidentally amplifies his own buried feelings—the very ones he swore he’d left behind. As he's desperately hoping his magic wears off before you notice, Jaehyun can’t help but worry that you’ll think he’s sabotaging your chances at love simply because he can’t let you go just yet.

MATCHMAKER & HIS CLIENT × cupid ! jaehyun x f ! reader

🗒️ › THE GUIDELINES ⟡ cupid au, exes2lovers, second chance, pining, slowburn(ish), fluff, angst ( ? ), crack

PRECAUTIONS ノ jaehyun absolutely being a nervous but almost lovesick mess 👍, playful bickering, a bit of jealousy?, teasing (#you’llfindthemainculprits), some denial and i believe that’s really it! ( FEAT. all of boynextdoor as CUPIDS! )

WORD COUNT ────── 25.9K+ ( 25907 WORDS ) !

𓊆 🗯️ 𓊇 CUPID’S RULES ✶ happy (late) valentines to you all ♡ !! this WAS supposed to be released on vday, but i lost track of time and was busy playing cupid for my friend so 😖 (rhin can confirm) special thank yous to alya, rhin, and lili !! alya & rhin my main people that i gave them sm updates (i know they were tired of me always saying my new wcs for this…) and lili being an amazing motivator for this as i was trying (more like stressing) to get this out as soon as possible… SO this fic definitely holds a special place in my heart & i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did :] !! again, happy month of love ♡

🏹 ────── PLAYLIST LINKED IN ‘STUPID CUPID!’

RULE #1: Remember and Follow the Cupid Handbooks

Being a Cupid comes with its perks—the ability to make people fall within seconds—but it also carries a weird curse: struggling to find love for yourself. It’s ironic, really. How could one in charge of creating love stories be so helpless when it comes to their own? 

So, if there’s one rule every Cupid should know, it’s to avoid getting tangled up in love themselves. 

Jaehyun knew that better than anyone. He didn’t spend countless nights studying Cupid Handbooks just to break the most clear but unspoken rule in the book. But, when constantly exposed to love—causing romantic connections and having soulmates find each other—could he really be blamed for wondering what it might feel like to fall too? 

Jaehyun hated the idea of him doing something so forbidden—he knew his limits, had always known them, and he has never been so set on keeping himself within them. But the more time he spent practicing his spells and shooting his heart arrows, the more he felt himself daydreaming. Even during his shifts, he kept catching himself drifting off to the thoughts of what he wanted in a relationship. 

His imagination that led to his hopeless scenarios had him wanting love. Not just any kind of love, though. 

Jaehyun wanted to find love the natural way. No use of his magic. No arrows. No shortcuts. It was interesting, given the fact his abilities could naturally make the person he wanted to fall for him. But with the amount of time he spent in this field, all he wants is to be able to feel things everyone else would’ve if no one interfered with their love life. 

He wanted something genuine. 

He wanted to experience all the little things—interlocking fingers and swinging arms during a late-night walk—and plan romantic gestures and dates that would leave someone speechless. He wanted to laugh until his cheeks hurt because of the joy someone else brought into his life—someone that he could call his partner. 

It was so human, really so simple. Yet for someone like him, it was out of bounds and strictly off-limits. His magic was meant for others, not himself. Still, the thought lingered, nestled deep within him.

Even though it seemed forbidden, Jaehyun couldn’t stop himself from wondering: wouldn’t it be worth it, just once, to know what it felt like? It could be a good experience, he told himself, a lesson in understanding what he had been helping others achieve for so long.

And against all odds—or perhaps because of them—his fantasies became his reality. For the first time, Jaehyun found himself in a relationship. His first one ever. Everything he had imagined, all the sweet little moments he dreamed of, unfolded before him. Late-night walks, planned romantic dates, and laughter that left his cheeks sore were everything he’d wished for.

It was perfect. Almost too perfect, as if the universe was teasing him with a fleeting glimpse of something he could never fully keep.

If only he had known how it would all end. If only someone had stepped in to shatter his hopeless fantasies before they took place. Maybe then he wouldn’t have fallen so hard.

Maybe then he wouldn’t have become the hopeless mess he is now.

It wasn’t that he regretted the relationship—not entirely. The memories were precious, the kind he would carry with him forever. But who could have guessed how much a first love could change a person? That those bubbly feelings he felt would be so short-lived and immediately replaced with nothing but guilt? 

Unless, of course, Jaehyun was just a hopeless romantic, unable to let go of his first love. Maybe that was his problem all along—he clung to the memory of it, replaying every moment like a song he couldn’t stop humming. Or maybe it was simply a part of the consequences of not following the Cupid’s rule—avoid getting tangled up in love. 

It’s as if once a Cupid gets out of love, that emptiness will forever stick, and yet there would be no attempt to fill it up again. Instead, it simply lingers over like a shadow that would never disappear. 

Even with his so-called tragic attempt at love, Jaehyun refuses to let it interfere with his performance as a Cupid. If anything, he tries to hide it, and it only fuels his dedication to helping others find what he couldn’t. It helped him so much to the point that he even opened his own matchmaking business in the human world—a thriving one at that. 

For Jaehyun, it’s much easier to act like the one who steps into someone’s life at just the “right” moment, soon setting them up with their perfect match disguised as a human. With him constantly surrounded by success and purpose, he was able to effortlessly complete his tasks at a quick pace and climb up the ranks. His undercover Cupid life was truly working in his favor. 

For once, it seems like everything was finally working for Jaehyun. 

And that was all he ever wanted. 

RULE #2: Help anyone — everyone deserves love. 

It was a typical day for Jaehyun if he was holed up in his office, scrolling through the reviews on his website. A satisfied grin tugged at his lips as he skimmed through the comments praising his flawless love advice and unmatched ability to set up the perfect soulmate-worthy dates. 

“Jaehyun!” Woonhak’s voice burst through the quiet room, startling Jaehyun to jolt upright, abandoning the relaxed posture he’d settled into moments before. “You’ve got new clients!” 

The door swung open, and in walked Woonhak, his assistant, with a stack of papers that balanced in his arms. He remained completely oblivious to the sharp glare Jaehyun shot his way, too caught up in his excitement—or perhaps too used to his expressions to care. 

“It would be better if you just entered the room without yelling like that,” Jaehyun muttered, watching as Woonhak approached his desk and plopped down the heavy stack of papers.

“You just get scared too easily,” Woonhak teased, dragging out the last word as if to further test Jaehyun’s patience. Despite the playful jab, his grin never faltered. He nudged the papers closer, clearly expecting Jaehyun to skim through them quickly so he could set up the appointments and get back to whatever mischief he had planned for the day.

Jaehyun chose to ignore his teasing, snatching up the papers and flipping through the stack as fast as he possibly could. Meanwhile, Woonhak let out a low whistle, tapping his fingers on his thighs as his eyes wandered around the room to fulfill his few minutes of boredom. 

With Jaehyun looking back at Woonhak every so often, his attention soon landed on the white wings peeking out from Woonhak’s back. 

“And hide those winds before someone walks in here and thinks you’re an odd person.” He pointed in their direction, giving it a small look. 

Woonhak immediately twisted his body, trying to get a glimpse of the wings, only to end up spinning in an awkward loop. Jaehyun let out a chuckle at the ridiculous sight, shaking his head before returning to the customer requests sprawled out in front of him.

“I had to help Taesan with his mission. Cut me some slack,” Woonhak huffed, hurriedly tucking his wings out of sight—even though it was just him and Jaehyun in the room.

“Besides,” he added, straightening up and crossing his arms, “I’d be diligent enough not to get caught looking like this in front of a human.”

Jaehyun raised his eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Uh-huh. Like you never had something like this happen on numerous occasions.” 

Woonhak opened his mouth to argue but quickly shut it, his lips pressing into a thin line as he suddenly remembered a few of the times that almost led him to exposing his true identity. 

“Just focus on looking through these so I can go back to work before someone calls for me again,” Woonhak grumbled under his breath, leaving Jaehyun unbothered to even hide the small smirk he had. 

“Yeah, yeah—” Jaehyun started, his words trailing off the moment his eyes landed on a familiar name.

L/N Y/N.

For a moment, the room felt smaller, and the papers in his hands suddenly heavier. He stared at your name, unable to move past it, as if seeing it in print made it all too real.

He almost felt as if he was being physically dragged down, feeling the weight of such a familiar yet unfamiliar name crush him. 

His heart felt like it was sinking. 

Snapping out of it, Jaehyun quickly slid the paper out of the stack, slipping it aside like it didn’t exist. But before he could fully hide it, Woonhak’s sharp eyes caught his movement.

Woonhak slid the paper back in front of Jaehyun, his eyes narrowing in confusion at Jaehyun’s sudden action. 

“What?”

“Uh, I don’t think I can take this applicant,” Jaehyun replied a little too quickly, pushing the paper aside once more. 

“What’s wrong with this one?” he pressed, sliding the paper back yet again and this time keeping his hands firmly placed on it. Woonhak couldn’t seem to let it go that easily. He leaned in, squinting as he tried to make the words on the page from his view. “See something that goes against our policies?” 

“It’s not that—” Jaehyun paused, the sudden thought of him technically being the one that went against Cupid’s "policies.”

Avoid getting tangled up in love. 

The same phrase that haunted him echoed in his head, almost threatening to bring him back to the phase where he felt everything was going wrong. But he quickly shook it off—he had to. Now wasn’t the time for him to dwell on his past actions. He needed an excuse—any excuse. 

His eyes darted to the description you’d provided at the bottom of the application, scanning the words as fast as he could.

“They just seem... bland?” he blurted out, scrambling for an explanation. “Like they don’t actually want our services. Feels like a waste of time, honestly.”

Woonhak tilted his head before flipping the paper around, finally taking the time to read it properly. He hummed softly, nodding as if he agreed, and Jaehyun let out the smallest sigh of relief—until Woonhak abruptly stopped.

His expression shifted, brows furrowing deeply as his eyes darted back and forth between the paper and Jaehyun. 

“Since when did you, out of all Cupids, opt out of helping a client find love?”

“I mean…you saw the paper yourself!” Jaehyun stammered, trying to say anything to seem valid with his reasoning. He could feel the heat rising to his face, and no matter how hard he tried to keep calm, his words kept fumbling. This was spiraling fast—faster than he wanted it to. Instead of seeming like the confident, professional Cupid he prided himself on being, Jaehyun felt like a deer caught in headlights.

“The Jaehyun I know wouldn’t turn anyone away,” he stated clearly, folding his arms. “So, you? The Cupid who preaches about ‘love being for everyone,’ rejecting a client because they seem odd with their reasoning?”

Jaehyun didn’t know what to say—matter of fact, he didn’t want to say it. He had no comeback—no witty excuse to hide behind. Honestly, how could he possibly explain the truth? That he didn’t follow the very rules designed to keep Cupids professional? 

How was he supposed to bring up the fact that he had a deeper connection to you than other humans? 

That it was what he’s been wanting to avoid even remembering for the longest time? 

Jaehyun’s stomach churned, the thought looming over him greater than before. With falling in love as a Cupid seems to go against their morals, Jaehyun would absolutely forbid himself from telling someone he had gone against it. 

No one could know. Not even Woonhak, one of the very few he trusted the most. 

Nothing could deter Jaehyun from believing that this guilt should be only carried by himself. Otherwise, who knows what could happen to him if the word got out that he did something “bad”? 

Because if they found out? Suspension would be the least of his problems. He could be stripped of his powers, exiled from this world, or worse—losing his powers as a Cupid. 

Regardless of what punishments there could be out there, Jaehyun was not planning on getting into any of them. 

Jaehyun clenched his jaw, forcing himself to hold Woonhak’s gaze. “Can I just say...the vibes are... off?” Jaehyun managed to murmur, putting on a hopefully convincing look. However, Jaehyun even thought he wouldn’t be convinced by his own excuse with Woonhak towering over him, trying to analyze his true intentions. 

“Is there something you don’t want to tell me?” his voice was still laced with suspicion; however it was softer than it was before. 

Jaehyun felt the weight of Woonhak’s stare, and for a split second, he debated keeping the truth buried. But the tension in the room was suffocating, and if he didn’t give Woonhak something—anything—it might only make things worse.

It could at least make him feel a bit better in this situation. 

“Okay…well,” Jaehyun began, his voice wavering as he struggled to find the right words. “It’s someone I used to know. Someone I—” He paused, catching himself before saying too much. “—someone I haven’t spoken to in a while. I just... I don’t want to mess things up for them.”

Woonhak tilted his head, his brows furrowing slightly, but he nodded as if to show he understood. “So it’s personal?”

“Kind of,” Jaehyun admitted, his gaze shifting down to the paper that now felt like it was burning a hole in his desk. “I just think it’d be better if someone else handled it.”

“Alright,” Woonhak finally said, stepping back slightly. Hearing that, Jaehyun could’ve sworn he let out a huge exhale of air he didn’t even realize he’d been holding.

Relief flooded through him, but it was short-lived. Woonhak reached out, gathering the stack of papers—including yours—and Jaehyun’s eyes lingered on them longer than he meant to.

That’s when it hit him.

You applied. You. To find someone new?

Before he could fully process it, Woonhak’s footsteps snapped him out of his spiral. He abruptly turned back before reaching the door, making Jaehyun’s shoulders tense up all over again.

“But if no one takes this application,” Woonhak said with a grin, “you’re going to have to handle it no matter what.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“She applied for you to help her, didn’t she?” Woonhak grinned, clearly enjoying the panic written all over Jaehyun’s face. “Cupid rules!” 

And before Jaehyun could even form a response, Woonhak was gone, shutting the door behind him within an instant. 

Jaehyun slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as the words echoed in his head.

She applied for you to help her. 

For the first time ever, Jaehyun had never felt a stronger urge to break Cupid’s rules.

Just for his own sake. 

RULE #3: Focus on the Present, Not the Past

It didn’t take long for Jaehyun to realize that Woonhak had only been joking and that no such rule actually existed. Honestly? He was relieved—especially after mustering up the courage to ask Riwoo a series of awkward and borderline ridiculous questions. Poor Riwoo had been forced to sit through Jaehyun’s rambling without even understanding why he was so worked up.

According to Riwoo, applications were simply sent and put on hold until someone willingly picked up the task. It didn’t have to be Jaehyun—thankfully. That small piece of information lifted a massive weight off his shoulders, allowing him to breathe easier for the first time since he’d seen your name on the paper.

And while the thought of leaving your application in someone else’s hands felt oddly conflicting, Jaehyun convinced himself it was for the best. You’d be taken care of soon, and he wouldn’t have to risk getting involved in your life again.

As cold as it might sound, Jaehyun knew his intentions were good. He wasn’t trying to be cruel—if anything, he was trying to protect you from not seeing him again, as maybe the sight of him could possibly hurt you too. 

That reassurance brought him an unexpected sense of peace, enough to push him back into focus. With his worries temporarily set aside, Jaehyun found himself performing better than he had in weeks, even earning a few more praises here and there.

It was more than enough for Jaehyun to be set right back on track. 

“Send the next client in,” Jaehyun spoke into the earpiece, his tone steady as he leaned back in his chair. He reached for a pen, idly tapping it against the surface of his desk while he waited.

“I’m on it,” Woonhak’s voice crackled through the line, followed by faint shuffling noises. Jaehyun could just barely make out Woonhak murmuring something to the next person in line, probably offering some last-minute reassurance before directing them inside.

Jaehyun straightened up as he heard the door creak open, forcing himself into professional mode. He plastered on a welcoming smile, just like he had practiced, ready to offer all the help he could give. 

“Welcome to—” he looked up, the grip on his pen faltering, nearly causing it to slip from his fingers. His lips slightly parted before continuing, “KOZ of Cupid.”

Out of all clients he could’ve seen today, why did it have to be you?

At first, you didn’t want to sign up for something like this. You preferred the more “natural” way of falling in love—the kind of story that felt straight out of a romance movie. Meeting someone in a cozy café, locking eyes with a stranger in a crowd, or stumbling upon someone at the wrong place but at the perfect time. That’s the kind of love you always dreamed about.

Although those kinds of wishes didn’t take you far within your love life. Those fleeting moments never seemed to lead to something more than casual, leaving you in a series of what-ifs and missed connections. So, here you were, making the decision you once swore you’d never make. 

But what you didn’t expect was seeing this. 

You froze the moment you stepped inside the office, your eyes locking with his as the realization sank in. Out of all the people who could’ve been behind this desk—out of all the Matchmakers people raved about—it just had to be him.

Your ex.

Well, maybe if you knew who he actually was prior to this, you would’ve probably avoided getting into this situation. 

Your body stiffened, your hand gripping the strap of your bag as if holding onto it could somehow ground you. He looked just as surprised as you, if not mortified. 

“Cupid MJ…?” you finally asked, your voice laced with disbelief as you eyed the nameplate on his desk. “That’s you?”

Jaehyun swallowed hard, his hand instinctively reaching up to rub the back of his neck. Despite having gone by the alias for what felt like an eternity, hearing it come out of your mouth suddenly made it sound ridiculous.

“Yeah…” he muttered, his voice softer than usual. “That’s me.”

“I see...” you trailed off awkwardly, already hating the steps you took to be caught in this kind of predicament. 

“Well, take a seat, won’t you?” Jaehyun finally broke the silence, gesturing toward the chair he’d carefully positioned in front of his desk. You nodded stiffly, your legs carrying you forward as if on autopilot, each step feeling heavier than the last.

You weren’t sure what shocked you more—seeing Jaehyun again after all this time or realizing he was now running a matchmaking business, posing as some kind of modern-day Cupid...now in charge of your love life. 

The only difference is that he's no longer a part of it—not in that kind of way. 

“It’s been a long…time since we last saw each other,” you managed to say as you took a seat. Your eyes fell into your lap, unable to meet his gaze face-to-face after all this time. It felt unnatural given how you two were practically strangers who used to be lovers, now meeting up together in the same room. “I didn’t know you were doing this kind of thing now.” 

Jaehyun wasn’t surprised by your reaction. He had expected this to throw you off—how could it not? After all, back then, he’d practically put his cupid duties on pause to be with you. He left it all in Riwoo’s hands just so he could experience what love felt like firsthand.

And for a while, it was perfect.

But now? Now, he was just a matchmaker, and you were just another client sitting across from his desk, needing his help. You two were not on boyfriend-girlfriend terms anymore, so Jaehyun had no choice but to snap out of it. 

“It has been,” he finally replied, forcing a polite smile despite the tightening in his chest. “I never would’ve expected to see you again—especially not here. And definitely not in this... field of love.”

You let out a small, nervous laugh, nodding your head. “Yeah, well…change of plans, I guess.”

Jaehyun also nodded, but his mind was already spiraling. Change of plans? To make things fair, he hasn’t seen you in a while—it’s been a good year or two of him avoiding crossing paths with you. 

“Getting back on topic, I assume you’ve already gone through our website?” Jaehyun asked, his tone shifting to something more professional as he turned his attention to the computer beside him. His fingers moved quickly over the keyboard, typing your name into the database.

“Well… could there be anything I missed besides setting up this appointment with you?” you asked, hoping your rushed application hadn’t left out anything important.

“It actually looks like you didn’t fill out the section about what you’re looking for in a future partner.” Jaehyun frowned slightly, refreshing the page a couple of times as if expecting the missing information to magically appear. “Huh. That’s odd…”

“There was a form for that?” you asked, genuine confusion lacing your voice.

Jaehyun hummed in response, his eyes still fixed on the screen. “Yeah. It’s part of the application process. You must’ve skipped over it.”

You sat back in your chair, trying to piece together the memory of filling out the form. “I probably did. I was kind of in a rush when I submitted it,” you admitted, already cringing at how careless you’d been. It was supposed to be something quick—just something to get your friends off your back about your ‘tragic’ love life. 

“Well, don’t worry about it.” Jaehyun reached for the drawer beside him, pulling out a clipboard and sliding a clean sheet of paper into the clip. “I have a physical copy you can fill out instead.”

He handed it to you along with a pen, prompting you to take it without hesitation. Your eyes quickly scanned the questions on the form, and almost immediately, you felt like you were being put on the spot. The questions were more personal than you expected—asking about values, expectations, and even deal-breakers—but you pushed through, determined to finish it as quickly as possible.

The silence in the room only made the process feel longer. You could feel Jaehyun’s occasional glances, though he tried to keep himself preoccupied with the computer screen in front of him. It was as if he was pretending not to notice how much effort you were putting into answering the questions—questions he already knew the answers to, at least back then.

After what felt like an eternity, you were able to finish the last question, settling the clipboard down with a soft thud. 

“All done?” 

“Yeah,” you replied, sliding the clipboard back across his desk. “Sorry, that took so long. Some of the questions were…very detailed.” 

Jaehyun let out a small laugh, picking up the clipboard and flipping through the pages to make sure you didn’t skip over anything accidentally. “It’s supposed to be thorough. The more detailed your responses are, the better we can find the match for you.”

You nodded, though the idea of him—or anyone—reading through your answers felt a bit humiliating. Even if you regretted it, there was really no coming back from this now. But Jaehyun’s silence couldn’t help but worry you, making your stomach churn. 

“Okay, it looks like you filled out everything,” he said, placing the clipboard down in front of him. “We should be able to get you set up with a match that fits what you’re looking for.” 

You didn’t have an answer, so you simply nodded, forcing a small, polite smile even as the tension in the room lingered.

“That’s all for today’s session,” Jaehyun said, leaning back slightly as if to signal the end of your meeting.

“Really? That’s it?” you asked in surprise. 

“Considering how you forgot to fill that part, I can’t do much more than make you wait until our next session to find you a match,” he replied. “I’ll have Cupid KW set up the next appointment for you when I’m all settled.” 

“Oh right…” Your voice barely rose above a murmur as you stood up, sliding the chair back under the desk carefully before you left. You hesitated at the door, your hand hovering over the handle before instinctively turning back to him.

“Thank you, Jaehyun—” You froze, quickly correcting yourself. “I mean, Cupid MJ.” The slip-up made you cringe internally—you certainly weren’t on the terms to be addressing him like that. You didn’t choose to stick around long enough to explain or even see his reaction. Instead, you hurriedly added, “Have a nice day,” before stepping out and pulling the door closed behind you.

Jaehyun barely managed a “You too,” but his voice was low, almost drowned out by the soft click of the door shutting. Letting out a quiet sigh, Jaehyun shifted his focus back to the clipboard you left behind, flipping through the pages filled with your handwriting.

Jaehyun? It was nice to hear that name from you again. But he hated how much he missed hearing it. 

It had been so long, and yet it still sounded so familiar—so warm, as if it provided a sense of comfort to him. It was as if he was transported back to the past, the time where he had known everything about you. 

He scanned through your answers carefully, noting every detail you had written down. As he continued to flip through the pages, he wore a faint, bitter smile, noticing how clear everything was. 

It was silly to think about reconnecting, wasn’t it? Silly to even let himself reminisce about what everything once was.

Everything you seem to want now—the qualities and expectations—no longer reflects who Jaehyun was. But what should he expect? That you would still want someone like him? 

He was only someone you had once wanted. 

Now, he’s just a stranger with a familiar name. 

RULE #4: Act Fast; a Client is Top Priority

“Where’s Woonhak?” Jaehyun suddenly asked, his eyes narrowing as Leehan walked in carrying a stack of papers instead of the usual face he expected to see every day.

“He told me Sungho called for him for the day,” Leehan replied, setting the papers down on Jaehyun’s desk with the same precision Woonhak typically would. “So, I took over his spot.”

Jaehyun barely held back a groan. Of course, Woonhak wouldn’t be here today. If he was, Jaehyun would’ve made sure he didn’t leave this office without a long lecture—or a few cuts and bruises, if Jaehyun felt like being dramatic. Technically, this entire mess was Woonhak’s fault—for lying and, even worse, allowing you in on the day Jaehyun could’ve least expected it.

It would’ve been easier if Jaehyun had some kind of warning. Just a heads-up that you’d be walking through those doors.

“So, these are the correct ones, right?” Jaehyun asked, forcing himself to focus as he looked through the papers.

“Yes, Woonhak taught me,” Leehan confirmed, glancing at him like he could already tell where Jaehyun’s mind was drifting. “And don’t worry. I’m only unlucky when it comes to using my powers, not simple tasks like these.”

Jaehyun let out a sharp exhale, giving Leehan a pointed look. “Let’s hope so.”

“You seem to have a lot on your mind,” Leehan said, tilting his head slightly as he studied Jaehyun’s expression.

“Me?” Jaehyun scoffed, feigning indifference as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m fine.”

“Sure,” Leehan replied, clearly unconvinced. “That’s why you’ve been staring at the same paper for the last five minutes.”

Jaehyun blinked, glancing down at the form in his hand. He hadn’t even realized he hadn’t turned the page.

“It’s nothing,” Jaehyun muttered, flipping the sheet over as if that would somehow prove his point.

Leehan didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press further either. Instead, he slid another set of files across the desk.

“Well, whatever it is, try not to let it mess up your matchmaking,” Leehan said with a shrug. “Clients tend to notice when you’re distracted.”

Jaehyun let out a small, humorless laugh. “Funny to hear that from you, Leehan.”

“A few mishaps doesn’t mean I can’t read you clearly,” Leehan hummed, pausing briefly at the door. “You’re bad at hiding it.”

Jaehyun opened his mouth to retort, but Leehan was already gone, leaving him alone with nothing but the faint echo of his words.

His gaze soon shifted to the glowing computer screen, displaying one of your most compatible matches. The person seemed to perfectly align with the preferences you listed—which is a good thing—yet Jaehyun’s chest seemed to tighten the longer he stared at it. 

Jaehyun loves his job, and yet he can’t help but wonder how his situation became like this. 

It’s just funny how he has to be the one to set you up with someone else. 

“You found me a match already?” you exclaimed, your eyes widening as Jaehyun quietly sipped his hot chocolate. He gave a small nod, barely looking up from the swirling steam rising from his cup.

“Yeah, it was easy to find some candidates,” he replied, his voice steady but his expression unreadable. He was bundled up in layers, his scarf wrapped snugly around his neck, yet he still seemed cold despite having been in the café for over ten minutes.

“Are you sure these are good ones?” you asked, trying not to sound doubtful but failing miserably. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Jaehyun’s judgment—you did—but the process felt almost too fast. Weren’t matches supposed to take time? Shouldn’t there be more thought put into something like this?

“I don’t have good reviews under my website for no reason,” Jaehyun said with a small, proud smile as he set down his cup. He seemed confident, which seemed to reassure you. 

You pressed your lips together, unsure how to respond. Maybe you were overthinking this, or maybe it was just nerves. But a tiny part of you couldn’t help but wonder if Jaehyun was rushing this—if he was just trying to get it over with.

Would this—you—even matter to him? 

“Right,” you still managed to say while your thoughts spiraled, forcing a smile as you leaned back in your chair. “I guess I’ll just have to trust the expert, huh?”

“Speaking of me being an expert, your match should be appearing soon,” Jaehyun said casually, his words suddenly shifting the calm mood into something else. 

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait—what?”

Before you could even process what he meant, Jaehyun stood up, eyes glued to his phone, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “His name is Heeseung, by the way.”

“Heeseung?” you repeated, panic rising in your voice. “Jaehyun, wait!”

But he didn’t wait. He didn’t even turn back. 

It felt almost too familiar. 

Instead, he gave you a quick, dismissive wave before disappearing toward the café door.

You sat frozen in your chair, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your ears. 

A match. An actual, real match. And he was about to walk in any second now.

You glanced around nervously, suddenly hyperaware of every person in the café. You stared at everyone that walked in your direction, seemingly holding onto your breath. 

You didn’t even know who this guy looked like—this was practically a blind date. 

Your hands clenched around your cup. What were you even supposed to say?

You hadn’t been on a date in so long, and the fact that this one was unplanned made it feel so much worse. 

“Y/N, is it?”

The voice pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. You looked up, meeting the gaze of the man standing in front of you.

It was Heeseung.

With you exchanging awkward greetings with Heeseung, it was obvious you weren’t the only one feeling nervous. His stiff smile and the way he shifted in his seat mirrored your own unease, but at least the tension was mutual.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun remained outside the café, positioned just far enough to avoid suspicion but close enough to keep an eye on the two of you. From his view, things seemed to be going well—or at least not terribly wrong.

Setting down the hot chocolate cup he had brought with him, it was time. Now came the moment Jaehyun had been waiting for. This was where his real work began—the part that set his matchmaking business apart from the rest.

Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, Jaehyun swiftly turned himself invisible, the faint shimmer of his form disappearing as he reached into his bag. Humming softly, his fingers brushed against each arrow, carefully inspecting for any marks or scratches. He settled for one of the newer arrows—the ones Woonhak brought in weeks ago. 

As his selected arrow radiated a faint glow of enchantment, Jaehyun was satisfied with his choice. He drew in a steady breath, positioning himself not too far from you two. Raising the bow, he aligned it to his target, Heeseung, who was sitting across from you. 

Adjusting his stance, Jaehyun closed one eye, lining up the perfect shot. The goal was simple—strike Heeseung’s heart and make him lovestruck. It was Cupid’s mission, after all.

With his grip steady, Jaehyun murmured a small incantation under his breath, the magic swirling gently around the arrow. This was the moment where everything would change—Heeseung would feel unexpectedly bubbly inside as his romantic feelings intensified. 

All he had to do was shoot. 

Just as Jaehyun was about to release the bowstring, a sudden, chaotic noise erupted behind him—a crash of metal and hurried footsteps disturbed him. Jaehyun flinched, his head immediately snapping toward the source of the sounds. In that split second, his grip faltered, the arrow slipping from his grasp. 

Before he could even react, the faint hum of magic pulsed through, a streak of shimmering pink light quickly disappearing into thin air. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath, a stream of barely audible curses following as he frantically looked around his surroundings for the arrow and the disturbance. Oddly enough, whatever—or whoever—caused the noise was nowhere within his sight, leaving him in silence. 

But there was no time for him to investigate. He had to shift his focus back to you and Heeseung, ignoring the strange feeling in his chest—possibly from the scare and the sudden aftermath of his mistake. 

That’s when the feeling seemed to hit him. 

Jaehyun’s eyes naturally gravitated to you, and suddenly, everything around him seemed to blur. His vision tunneled, examining the way there was suddenly almost a shimmering light that radiated from you. It seemed to grow brighter every time he noticed something about you—every second seemed precious to him. 

He tried blinking, but it only got worse, his eyes unable to peel away from you. 

It was odd. 

Did he... miss you that much? That it was only starting to really hit him now? 

But right now? He had to get over you. At this time, he couldn’t afford to get distracted—the mission was most important, after all. 

Clenching his jaw, Jaehyun forced himself to look away, reaching for another arrow to correct his mistake.

But the moment his gaze dropped, his breath hitched.

There, in the center of his shirt, was the pink stain—not on the ground, not on an arrow, but on him.

Panic bloomed in his chest, his pulse quickening by the second. The bow fell to the floor as his hands grasped at the fabric, pulling it to examine the stain more closely. The sparkly glow was enough to tell him everything he needed to know. 

“No, no, no-" Jaehyun muttered under his breath, frantically rubbing at the fabric. It was completely useless. The stain didn’t smear or lift, but instead, it shrank. 

It sunk deeper into the fibers of his shirt—no, into him. The glow started to dim with every passing second until it was no longer visible, leaving Jaehyun frozen, his fingers still gripping onto the fabric. 

Jaehyun swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back toward you. 

This wasn’t right.

The sound of your voice was faint but warm, making his pulse race even more despite him setting you on a date with Heeseung. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

 The pounding of his heart was deafening, drowning out the noise around him. Jaehyun bolted from where he was, his footsteps quick but unsteady as he pressed a trembling hand against his chest.

What had he done?

RULE #5: Don’t Mess Around with Cupid Powers

Jaehyun couldn’t stop feeling the need to constantly pace around his room. His footsteps echoed softly against the wooden floor as he ran a hand through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time.

Your text message sat open on his phone screen, glowing back at him. It was nothing more than a casual update—how the date went and how Heeseung seemed nice—but it still managed to make him smile.

That was the problem.

Jaehyun’s fingers tightened around the phone as he muttered to himself, his words shaky but firm. “You’re her matchmaker, not her match.”

But no matter how many times he repeated it, the words fell flat. It was a reminder that couldn’t seem to get through in his head. His own logic wasn’t enough to drown out the emotions that had begun creeping in ever since that arrow misfired.

It was wrong. He knew it was wrong—especially now that your date with Heeseung seemed to go well. That should’ve been enough to push Jaehyun back into reality, but instead, it only made the ache in his chest worse.

“You called for me?”

The voice snapped Jaehyun out of his trance, and he practically lunged toward the door the moment he saw Sungho step inside. Relief flooded through him so intensely that he didn’t even think twice before grabbing Sungho by the arms, gripping him like a lifeline.

“Whoa—what’s up with you?” Sungho’s brows shot up, his eyes scanning Jaehyun’s disheveled appearance. His face was flushed, his hair was a mess, and he looked like he’d been running a marathon inside the room. “You look…weird.”

Jaehyun immediately let go, straightening his posture in an attempt to look normal. But his attempt was useless. His jittery hands and the way his eyes darted back and forth only made him look more suspicious.

“Would you mind helping me?” Jaehyun blurted out, his voice almost cracking.

Sungho crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “I mean, that’s literally why I’m here,” he replied, walking past Jaehyun and flopping onto the couch without hesitation. “You don’t usually act like this. What’s up with you?”

Jaehyun trailed behind him, struggling to keep himself composed as he hovered nervously by the couch. He hated how out of character this was for him—desperate and completely unfocused. He wanted it to stop, but the way his mind kept racing and his heart refused to calm down made it nearly impossible to pull himself together.

Jaehyun cleared his throat, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. “So, uh... hypothetically speaking—emphasis on hypothetically,” he stressed, his eyes flickering toward Sungho as if silently begging for reassurance. “Is it possible for a Cupid to, you know… seriously mess up with their powers?”

Sungho raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to concern. “That depends,” he said slowly. “What kind of mistake are we talking about here?”

“Well…” Jaehyun hesitated, his voice trailing off before he forced himself to continue. “Like, let’s say something happened—not saying it did, but let’s say it could—where a Cupid accidentally misfired an arrow?”

Sungho hummed thoughtfully, leaning back against the couch. “I mean, it’s not unheard of. Look at Leehan, for example. The guy is completely unfortunate—broken arrows, broken couples, you name it. But his mistakes aren’t anything too difficult to fix.” 

‘Right, fixable. Totally,” Jaehyun nodded quickly, though his fingers continued to fidget against the fabric of his sleeves. “Right, right. But what if—again, hypothetically—a Cupid misfires their arrow on someone... that shouldn’t get hit?”

“Wait.” Sungho looked at Jaehyun, his gaze intensifying. “You did not—”

“I did not! Of course, I wouldn’t have!” Jaehyun cut in, his voice an octave higher than it usually was. “I mean, not exactly what you may think it is.” 

Sungho’s eyes widened as he sat himself up. “Jaehyun.” 

“Okay, okay!” Jaehyun caved, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Maybe I might have accidentally—sort of—shot myself.”

Sungho’s jaw dropped.

 “You what?!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Jaehyun blurted out, panic seeping into his voice. “There was this loud noise, and I got scared, and my hand slipped, and bam! I suddenly see pink liquid on my shirt that just quickly disappeared!”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me." Sungho dragged a hand to his mouth, visibly mortified that Jaehyun—out of all people—would get himself into a situation like this. “Turning your powers against yourself? Really?” 

“Was this why you asked me a bunch of questions about whether you had to take a client? Because it was about Y/N?”

Riwoo’s voice cut through the room, making both Sungho and Jaehyun jump—though it was Jaehyun who practically fled the couch with a yelp. His hand instinctively latched onto Sungho’s arm, eyes wide with panic as he spun around to face the unexpected intruder.

“Since when did you come in?!” Jaehyun demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at Riwoo, who looked thoroughly unimpressed.

Riwoo lifted the stack of files he carried as if the explanation was obvious. “Woonhak sent me,” he said, before casually walking over to Jaehyun’s desk to drop them off.

“Of course, Woonhak did,” Jaehyun muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples. “And you weren’t supposed to say that, Riwoo.”

“Oh,” Riwoo halted in his steps, soon turning to see Sungho with a puzzled look on his face. No matter how many times Sungho tried to think back on everything he remembered, the name wasn’t familiar to him at all. “I thought he knew.”

“What are we talking about—who is Y/N?” Sungho finally asked, almost as if it were excruciating while watching Jaehyun and Riwoo send each other odd but failed telepathy through the usage of their eyes and mumbling. 

“Jaehyun’s ex,” Riwoo quickly blurted out, leaving Jaehyun’s eyes widened in horror, his hand still in the air after shooting it up in an attempt to cover Riwoo’s mouth, but it was too late.

“Are you serious right now?” Jaehyun hissed, slowly dropping his hand in defeat. “I wouldn’t have told you about this if you were going to say it that easily.” 

“He had to know at one point—you can’t hide the fact that you tried to find love from us much longer,” Riwoo shrugged as he leaned against Jaehyun’s desk. “You could at least tell Sungho—he wouldn’t tell anybody... yet.” 

Next to him, Sungho sat in stunned silence, his mouth hanging open in shock. He blinked rapidly, his gaze darting between Riwoo and Jaehyun as if trying to process what he’d just heard.

“Y/N?” Sungho repeated, shaking his head as he pried Jaehyun’s arm off him. “So, you’re telling me, you managed to shoot yourself with your own arrow and ended up hopelessly in love with your ex again? That’s... really something else. Even for you.”

Jaehyun groaned, slumping back against the couch as he covered his face with both hands. “Don’t need to keep pushing it.”

Riwoo and Sungho exchanged a look, both struggling to suppress the fear but also the amusement threatening to creep onto their faces. It really was funny—at least to an extent.

After all, how could a Cupid be this careless? And not just careless—reckless. Jaehyun had managed to turn what should’ve been a simple matchmaking session into a full-blown catastrophe.

But what made it worse—what made it really ridiculous—was the fact that his eyes had landed on someone who was never supposed to be anything more than a client. Someone who had only walked through his doors looking for love and not to accidentally become the reason Cupid himself got caught up in this mess. 

“So, what did you feel when you saw her?” Sungho asked, making sure to check on his friend’s wellbeing. He had never been in this kind of situation before, so it wasn’t something he could instantly jump in and fix things like he usually would have. 

“It felt weird—it still does!” Jaehyun threw his hands up in the air. He paused, soon placing his hand on his chest as if he could physically do something to calm the irregular pounding of his heart. “Anything or everything that has to do with Y/N, it feels like—like I can’t think straight at all! It’s all about her!” 

“Were Cupid’s powers always this strong?” Riwoo questioned, eyebrows furrowed as he plopped onto the couch across from them. 

“I mean...” Sungho hesitated, leaning back as if running through possibilities in his head. “It could be different for humans—but he’s Cupid, after all. Who’s to say it wouldn’t affect him even worse than a human? What if it’s like... amplified?”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened, his panic rising again. “Amplified? Are you serious? So what—this could get even worse?”

“Well,” Riwoo started cautiously, “you did hit yourself with the arrow, so who knows what could possibly happen? Or how deep the arrow went? Nothing like this has happened before... or at least, not that we know of.” 

‘What am I supposed to do?” Jaehyun groaned, his thoughts completely all over the place. “She’s not just anyone; she’s my client! And I already set her up with someone else—who she seems to actually like, by the way! But I’m just here, losing my mind over something I really can’t control!” 

Sungho winced. “Well…”

“Please tell me this is fixable.” Jaehyun’s voice was muffled with his hands covering his face due to embarrassment. “There has to be something, or like, a time limit to these powers.” 

“That’s just something we have to figure out,” Riwoo said, trying to reassure him to the best of his abilities. “There has to be a way.”

Jaehyun really hoped Riwoo was right—he clung onto that hope. 

His phone had faintly buzzed with another notification, pulling his attention away. Unable to resist looking at it, he glanced to see another text from you lighting up the screen. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but reality was able to hit him quickly, considering his surroundings. His expression fell flat, which soon followed up with him clearing his throat. 

Jaehyun shut off his phone and threw it onto the table, as if putting some distance between himself and his phone could help keep himself normal. Slumping back into the couch, his shoulders sank as if the situation was starting to weigh heavily on his shoulders. 

This timing couldn’t have been any worse. His powers should’ve been reserved for only those he was assigned with to help them find love, not for him to accidentally turn himself into some lovesick person. 

“This better not be permanent,” Jaehyun muttered, staring into the ceiling while dealing with the thought of how terrifying that could be if his powers were to stick around. 

“For your sake, hopefully not.” Sungho said. “Because if it is... you might just be stuck with trying to make your client yours.” 

RULE #6: Don’t Run Away from Your Mistakes; Fix It.

“I’m not seriously going to be facing her, right?” Jaehyun blurted out, his voice laced with sheer panic as he threw his hands up in surrender. After the long, exhausting talk he’d just had with Riwoo and Sungho a while ago, this was the last thing he expected to hear. Guide you? Through this whole process? While he’s acting like this?

He can tell Sungho wasn’t pleased either, given the resigned expression he wore while telling him the news. But, with Sungho only able to give him a stiff nod, it hit Jaehyun like a brick wall—it was painfully obvious that they’d run into a dead end. 

Jaehyun’s shoulders slumped. “Can’t you just... take over for me?” His tone shifted into desperation as he tried to wriggle out of the mess he’d created. The last thing he wanted was to make a complete fool of himself in front of you. Though he couldn’t quite figure out if it was because he feared he wanted to impress you—or if it was just the crippling fear of acting weird in front of an ex.

“For someone who basically memorized every word of Cupid’s Handbooks,” Sungho said, rubbing the back of his neck as if he were already exhausted by Jaehyun’s antics, “I really thought you’d know better.”

Jaehyun froze, dread washing over him. He didn’t even need to ask to know where this was heading.

“What’s Rule #10?” Sungho pressed, narrowing his eyes.

Jaehyun let out a defeated sigh, his shoulders sinking further as he muttered under his breath, “Once a client... always your client.”

The words were as clear as day, but Jaehyun couldn’t help but feel like remembering that was bittersome. With how many hours he spent cooped up in his room remembering each page, he’d probably have ended up questioning his qualifications if he hadn’t.

But at this moment? He wished he didn’t know it. He wished the rule didn’t exist at all. 

“This isn’t fair,” Jaehyun groaned as he started pacing back and forth. He pressed his hands against the sides of his face as if doing so could somehow shut out the situation looming over him.

“You wouldn’t even be in this mess if you hadn’t been so fixated on Y/N,” Sungho sighed once again, although he seemed clearly unbothered by Jaehyun’s rising panic despite his behavior moments ago. 

Jaehyun spun around, glaring. “I was not fixated on her!” His voice came out sharper than he intended, defensive in a way that only made Sungho raise his brows. “I was actually committed to my mission, y’know—doing my job.”

“Right.” Sungho crossed his arms, leaning back as he fixed Jaehyun with an unimpressed look. “Then maybe you could’ve aimed the arrow at her instead of him.”

Jaehyun froze mid-step, caught off guard by the observation. The words lingered in the air as if waiting to pounce, and Jaehyun hated how they made his stomach churn.

Sungho didn’t miss the hesitation. “But you didn’t. Instead, you aimed to make him love-sick over her—not the other way around.”

Jaehyun’s eyes narrowed, his pacing halting completely as he faced Sungho. “What exactly are you trying to imply?”

“Oh, I think you already know,” Sungho said, his voice pointed as his gaze locked onto Jaehyun’s.

“Well, if anything—” Jaehyun snapped, his voice tight as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t have any intentions like that! It’s over between us, and that should be pretty clear to you, given that I paired her up with someone else.”

“Sure, sure—it’s over,” Sungho says, not wanting to cause Jaehyun to be in another frenzy. He could feel his lip twitching, almost as if he wanted to smirk, but he chose to fight against it. There was no need to rile Jaehyun up, especially given the unfortunate circumstances. 

Sungho’s phone buzzed, and as he glanced down at the screen, his expression shifted. He pressed his lips into a thin line—a small but telling gesture that Jaehyun immediately picked up on. It was almost instinctual, his senses sharpening at the sight of Sungho’s hesitation.

“What is it?” Jaehyun demanded, his voice edged with suspicion.

Sungho hesitated, clearly weighing his words before finally speaking. “I know you really don’t want to do this,” he started cautiously, watching Jaehyun’s expression like it might shatter at any moment. "But... your next session with Y/N? It’s today.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened in disbelief, and Sungho quickly added, “Or, well—actually, it’s not just today. It’s right now.”

“Right now?!” Jaehyun practically choked, taking a step back as if the words physically hit him. “You can’t be serious! No one said anything about it being this soon!”

Sungho grimaced, his grip tightening around his phone. “I just found out too, okay? Woonhak’s the one who sent the notice. He said something about needing to keep everything on schedule.”

“Schedule?” Jaehyun repeated, his voice rising. “I didn’t even agree to this schedule!”

Sungho crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed with Jaehyun’s outburst. “Well, suck it up, because she could walk in at any moment.” He gave Jaehyun a pointed look, then added, “But don’t worry—I’ll be here to make sure you don’t say anything weird.”

Jaehyun shot him a sharp glare. “Oh, that’s reassuring,” he muttered sarcastically, finally deciding to sit on the couch as his nerves threatened to continue to overwhelm him. “You’re acting like I’m incapable of handling this.”

“You’re barely capable of handling this,” Sungho shot back without missing a beat. “I mean, look at you right now! You’re one bad thought away from a meltdown, and we both know it.”

Just as Jaehyun was about to say anything to defend himself, the sound of knocking echoed through the room. Both he and Sungho immediately froze, their eyes snapping toward the door. 

Compared to Sungho, Jaehyun could’ve sworn he felt like he stopped breathing. Sungho was able to recover a little quicker, while Jaehyun seemed to be stuck in a trance. 

“I guess it’s time,” Sungho whispered as if you could potentially hear him from the opposite side, turning to give Jaehyun the look. 

Jaehyun’s eyes wavered. "Wait—what do I even say? What if... what if I mess up?” He whispered, and even with his voice being low, it was hard to ignore that he was frantic. 

“And didn’t you just say you’re perfectly capable of handling this?” 

"Well, that was before this happened!” Jaehyun whisper-yelled, his eyes looking back at the door after hearing the knocking again—this time, slightly louder than it was before. 

“Either way, you’re going to have to face her,” Sungho said, already moving toward the door. He reached for the doorknob, but before turning it, he glazed back at Jaehyun. “Like I said, I’ll handle it if things go wrong—just focus on being able to not do anything out of the ordinary.” 

Jaehyun groaned, running his hands through his hair as Sungho finally opened the door. The second he saw you standing there, greeting Sungho due to his sudden appearance, Jaehyun felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

Quickly, he looked away, his gaze dropping to his hands as he fiddled nervously with his fingers, desperate to stop his thoughts from spiraling. 

This was going to be so much harder than he thought.

“Hi, Cupid MJ,” you greeted him with a bright expression as you stepped inside after Sungho had welcomed you in.

Jaehyun’s eyes flickered up at the sound of your voice, and despite every part of him screaming to stay composed, his lips almost instinctively curled into a smile. His eyes softened, crinkling at the corners in a way that felt far too natural—far too much.

“Hi, Y/N,” he replied, but the moment the words left his mouth, he froze. It sounded weird. Even to him, it sounded far too warm—too full of affection. 

His eyes widened slightly as he quickly brought a hand up to cover his mouth, as if that could somehow take back the tone he’d just used. His gaze darted nervously to Sungho, who was already staring at him with a raised eyebrow and the most frustratingly knowing look.

Jaehyun felt heat rush to his face as he let out a small, awkward cough, desperately trying to mask the slip-up. “Uh—take a seat,” he said, attempting to make his voice sound more neutral. 

“The date went well,” you said, your tone light as you took a seat. It was clear you were more than ready to lead the conversation—especially given Jaehyun’s stunned silence.

For a moment, he just blinked at you, his thoughts spiraling as he struggled to string together a proper response. It almost felt like the roles had reversed—him as the nervous client, fumbling and hopeless, while you sat there like the Cupid, who had quite literally struck him right in the heart.

“That’s… great,” Jaehyun finally managed to say, though his voice came out quieter than he’d hoped. He cleared his throat, trying to regain even a fraction of composure. “I mean, of course, it went well. I—I knew it would.”

You nodded, completely unaware that you were the one that was making him feel like his heart was about to burst out of his chest. 

"What happens now?" you asked, leaning in slightly as if searching for some kind of reassurance.

"Well," he began, clearing his throat. "You can continue spending more time with him since I received a positive response from him too." He paused briefly, gauging your expression before continuing. "Or, if you'd prefer, you can explore other matches—it’s entirely your pick."

You nodded slowly, your fingers absentmindedly brushing against the edge of the table. "I think I could do another day with him," you finally said, though there was an almost hesitant tone in your voice.

Jaehyun's stomach flipped. Was that hesitation good or bad?

"I mean," you added quickly, as if trying to fill the silence, "I’m not really sure about exploring other options just yet. What do you think?"

Jaehyun looked up at you, momentarily frozen as if the world around him had slowed down. He’d tried so hard to avoid this—to keep his emotions in check and his focus sharp—but the second his eyes locked with yours, all of that effort unraveled.

The soft pink hue that had surrounded you the first time he saw you seemed to return, blooming and spreading until it drowned out everything else. It wasn’t just a glow—it was a pull, one he felt himself leaning into despite knowing better.

"What do I think?” he finally managed, his voice quieter than usual, like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

“Yeah.” You tilted your head, waiting for his response, completely unaware of the turmoil raging inside him.

“I think...” he trails off, his heartbeat seemingly muffling the sound of his own voice to him. “I think I like–”

“What he means,” Sungho interrupted, sliding onto the seat next to Jaehyun as if to physically block him from saying anything reckless, “is that he thinks it’d be great for you to keep going out with Heeseung.”

Jaehyun flinched at the sudden pinch Sungho gave him, jolting him back to reality. He turned to glare at his friend, but Sungho’s pointed stare told him to pull it together.

You blinked, slightly taken aback by the abrupt response from Sungho rather than Jaehyun, but nodded anyway. “Oh…okay.”

“Right!” Jaehyun blurted out, sitting up straighter and forcing a strained smile. “I mean, Heeseung seems like a good match, and you said the first date went well, so another one makes sense, right?”

Your eyebrows slightly furrowed, confused by the sudden energy radiating from him. Even when you hesitated for a second, as if something about his words didn’t quite convince you, you decided to nod again. “I guess I could give it another try.”

Jaehyun forced a smile, an odd tightness in his chest that didn’t seem to disappear quickly. He should’ve felt relieved that he hadn’t slipped up—that he’d managed to steer you back toward Heeseung—but instead, he felt like he’d lost something.

“Great,” Sungho clapped his hands together, almost serving as a reminder to Jaehyun to focus. “We will be able to set you on another date soon, so please wait for our messages!” he said oddly cheerfully, though Jaehyun could tell it was mostly to smooth things over.

“Right,” Jaehyun added, his voice barely above a whisper.He bit his lip, forcing himself to look away from you after nearly confessing again. His heart wavered, almost betraying him, as he saw you turn your attention to Sungho, laughing at something he’d said.

You were smiling…because of Sungho.

“I’ll take care of the details,” Jaehyun suddenly interjected, clearing his throat loudly enough to grab both your and Sungho’s attention.

You blinked, surprised, but offered a small smile. “Oh, okay. I’ll leave it to you, then,” you replied, completely oblivious to the effect you were having on him. Just because of that small action of yours, his heart was practically close to actually bursting. 

Jaehyun gave a stiff nod, watching you turn to leave. The moment you stepped out, he found his gaze trailing after you, unable to pull his eyes away until the door finally clicked shut behind you.

“Geez, now you’re at the jealous stage of the love effect?” Sungho’s voice sliced through the lingering silence, pulling Jaehyun back to reality. He looked over to find his friend watching him with a knowing smirk, one brow raised. “That was pretty fast-paced."

“It’s not like I was trying to!” Jaehyun quickly snapped, his voice suddenly getting defensive. In frustration, he pointed at the door as he tried to find his words. “It’s because of—”

Before he could finish, the door abruptly swung open, revealing Woonhak, who stood there with a curious yet sunny expression. “How’d it go?” he asked, his gaze bouncing between Jaehyun and Sungho as if he’d walked in on something interesting.

Jaehyun groaned, throwing his hands up in exasperation before pointing aggressively at Woonhak, almost as if he were waiting for this moment. “It’s because of you!”

Woonhak blinked, confused. “Wait, what? Me?”

“Yes, you!” Jaehyun said, standing up from his chair and pointing with even more emphasis. “If it weren’t for—”

“Is this...my cue to go?” Woonhak interrupted, his confusion shifting into playful unease as he glanced between the two of them, already half-stepping back toward the hallway.

 Jaehyun let out a long, frustrated sigh, his eyes squeezing shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, it’s not your cue to go, because if you hadn’t accepted that application, I could’ve still been as capable and composed as I was before!”

The room fell into a heavy silence as nobody chose to speak up after that. Woonhak froze, glancing at Sungho with wide, pleading eyes, silently begging for backup. Sungho, on the other hand, looked like he had no clue what to do either to step in.

Before Sungho could even attempt to think of something to diffuse the situation, Jaehyun was already striding his way toward Woonhak. 

“Uh, Sungho?” Woonhak stammered, panic creeping into his voice as he instinctively began stepping back. Jaehyun’s footsteps grew faster, his expression dead set on making his point—whatever that point might be.

“Sungho!” Woonhak yelped, his voice rising as Jaehyun closed the distance between them, taking even more huge steps back. 

Realizing he was on his own, Woonhak made a split-second decision. “Help me!” he screamed, spinning on his heel and bolting toward the door.

“Get back here, Woonhak!”

Their footsteps echoed down the hallway, Woonhak’s panicked screams fading into the distance as Jaehyun’s determined shouts followed close behind.

Sungho quickly snapped out of his amused daze, only to burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. However, his grin vanished just as quickly as it appeared when a sudden realization hit him.

“Oh, crap. There could be other clients waiting!” he muttered, scrambling to his feet in a panic.

Without missing a beat, he darted toward the exit, slamming the door as he followed the trail of yelling that was growing fainter by the second.

“Jaehyun!” Sungho called out, his voice echoing through the hallway as he tried to catch up. “Leave Woonhak alone and get back here—this is just your fate!”

The sound of Woonhak’s panicked screams and Jaehyun’s relentless pursuit only made Sungho pick up his pace, muttering to himself between breaths. “Oh my, just accept your fate already!”

And no matter how much Jaehyun pleaded—to the Cupid Gods (if they even existed) or to the universe itself—for some miraculous way out of this fate, his prayers were met with nothing but silence. The crushing weight of disappointment settled on him, a constant reminder of just how trapped he was in this situation.

Now, only a few weeks later, here he was, hiding behind a newspaper in his hand, his breath held as he watched you sitting on a bench, waiting for your second date with Heeseung.

“Why am I even here?” Jaehyun mumbled to himself, his eyes still glued onto you from a safe distance. His tone was low, almost as if he were speaking to no one at all, but a hum of agreement quickly followed.

“I don’t know,” came the unenthusiastic reply from the person in front of him—Leehan, of all people. The sound of a crinkling newspaper accompanied his words, his fingers absently folding and unfolding the corner of the page.

“Matter of fact, why are you here?” Jaehyun whispered harshly, glaring at Leehan, who seemed entirely too relaxed for someone on the lookout, with his random sunglasses and his newspaper upside down. If anything, it would be obvious that Leehan could be up to something. 

Leehan leisurely lowered the newspaper he’d been pretending to read and set it down on the table in front of him, a small smirk playing at his lips. “Because Sungho and the others are busy with their own Cupid duties,” he began, crossing his arms over his chest as if he were getting ready for a sudden fit of frustration. “And Woonhak? Well, we all know you’d rip his head off if he even tried accompanying you. So, I have no choice but to be here with you.”

Jaehyun chose not to respond, letting out a heavy sigh as he rubbed his temples. Oddly enough, he has been able to keep his emotions in check since Leehan and the others have been around lately. They knew how far Jaehyun’s sudden love urges could progress, so they all took turns to be able to supervise both him and you. So, Jaehyun can’t even complain, as he would most likely be a nervous wreck around you.

But, if anything, he wasn’t the only nervous one. You were too, however, for entirely different reasons. Sitting just outside an amusement park—the chosen date spot for you and Heeseung—you fidgeted with your phone. The vibrant atmosphere around you was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside. Laughter and excited chatter filled the air as families and couples hurried past you, their faces lit up with anticipation.

Could that be you and Heeseung? 

You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d have as much fun as everyone else seemed to be having. Would this date live up to your expectations? Or were you setting yourself up for disappointment?

Your gaze shifted from the bustling crowd back to your phone screen. No new messages. You checked the time again, your thumb hovering over the screen as if doing so would make a notification pop up.

This isn’t the first time you’ll be meeting Heeseung, but the idea of meeting him in person instead of texting was weird. You tried to calm down, forcing yourself to breathe deeply to steady the feeling of nerves coursing through you. This was supposed to be a fun hangout, and there was no point in thinking of useless questions. Yet, your feelings only continued to gnaw away at you, as with every passing minute, your uneasiness only heightened. 

You hated the thought of coming off as pushy, especially for something as delicate as a romantic date, but eventually, you found yourself sending follow-up texts.

The act itself felt humiliating, like you were clinging to something that might already be slipping through your fingers. Still, you had no choice. The silence on the other end was deafening.

But even after your attempts, there was nothing. No text. No call. 

Were you getting stood up? That thought finally hit you, and your heart couldn’t help but sink with an overwhelming heaviness. 

You swallowed back the lump forming in your throat, forcing yourself to sit straighter despite the weight in your chest. As much as you hated to admit it, the idea of Heeseung standing you up felt more and more like a reality with each passing second. 

Maybe love wasn’t meant for you at all. 

The world around you seemed to blur as your gaze dropped to your phone. For a moment, you stared at the empty message screen, your fingers trembling over the keyboard. It took everything in you to gather the courage to type out a text, but not to Heeseung this time.

Instead, you messaged Jaehyun.

"This date's a failure," you typed, hesitating before pressing send. 

You could only imagine how Jaehyun might feel reading such a message, especially considering the heaviness in your own chest. But should it really matter? He was a revolutionary matchmaker, after all, wasn’t he? There shouldn’t be anything that he couldn’t do, right? And yet, a strange pang of guilt crept into your thoughts. Why were you so concerned about how Jaehyun would react?

Even though you couldn’t fully understand your own emotions, one thing was clear—you still cared about him. Maybe a little too much. So, for just a split second, it didn’t seem unreasonable to think about his feelings over yours.

But with Jaehyun, your feelings were always his top priority. Well, they should be. 

The moment your message reached him, he immediately reacted, his lips pressing into a deep frown as he reread your words. Sitting beside him, Leehan noticed his sudden shift in mood and leaned closer; his curiosity piqued.

“What’s wrong?” Leehan asked, trying to peer over at Jaehyun’s screen. His own expression shifted as he caught a glimpse of the text, his eyes widening and his frown mirroring Jaehyun’s.

Jaehyun didn’t answer right away, his thoughts racing as he stared at your words. His chest tightened, a mixture of frustration and concern bubbling within him. You were upset—the thought of you feeling this way gnawed at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Jaehyun finally muttered, standing abruptly.

Leehan blinked up at him, startled. “Wait, what are you—”

But Jaehyun was already moving, his determination written all over his face. For the better or worse, he wasn’t going to let this ruin your day. 

“Y/N,” he called out as he jogged toward you, his voice cutting through the lively background noise from the amusement park. The sudden sound startled you, making you glance up from the message you’d been staring at. Seeing him right there—mere seconds after your text—felt both unnerving and oddly comforting.

It felt weird that someone—your ex, or better yet, simply just Cupid MJ—immediately came to your message. But you also felt a sense of gratitude, knowing that there was someone who would answer your message right away. 

At least someone cared enough to show up for you. 

“Jaehyun?” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky, caught between disbelief and relief. You quickly stuffed your phone in your pocket, trying to compose yourself. “How’d you get here so fast?”

He came to a stop in front of you, still catching his breath but managing to keep his gaze steady on you. “I was already here,” he admitted, a slight edge of hesitance in his voice. “I was waiting for you and Heeseung to meet... so I could leave.” He shifted his weight awkwardly. “But then I got your text message.”

“Oh,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Makes sense.” The words felt bitter as they left your lips, as though admitting them aloud made everything sting a little more.

Your fingers found the zipper of your jacket, and you began to fiddle with it, keeping your eyes trained on the ground. Meeting Jaehyun’s gaze felt impossible at that moment. The last thing you wanted was for him, of all people, to witness you in this state.

This was definitely humiliating, and nothing could convince you otherwise. 

Jaehyun could see and feel the weight of your emotions, a pang of guilt washing over him. Deep down, he wondered if this was somehow his fault for pairing you with someone who let you down. Maybe Cupid’s systems weren’t as reliable as he once believed. 

“You don’t have to feel embarrassed about this.”

His voice was soft, almost compelling you to look up at him, but you resisted, shaking your head and letting out a dry laugh. “That’s easy for you to say.”

Jaehyun caught on to how your body hunched over, shoulders curling inward like you were trying to hide from him—or maybe from yourself. Your legs kicked back and forth in a restless rhythm, a nervous energy that you didn’t seem to notice.

He caught the way you bit your lip, a small inhale slipping through before you stopped yourself from speaking. It was like you were fighting against the words you wanted to say, the weight of everything you felt pressing down on you but refusing to come out.

“Y/N,” he sighed, feeling his own heartache seeing you try to hide your vulnerability. Without hesitation, he stepped closer, crouching down in front of you. His head tilted slightly to be within your eye view, his expression open and earnest.

You stopped your foot movements and perked your head up just a little, catching a glimpse of the sincere smile on his face. His posture was relaxed, his arms wrapped casually around his knees, but his eyes truly told a different story from his demeanor. 

“Seriously, this is just his fault. If Heeseung couldn’t see what he had right in front of him, that’s his loss. It’s never been yours.”

His words caught you off guard, pulling your attention to him fully.

You looked directly at him, taking a longer sight of Jaehyun crouched in front of you. His eyebrows were slightly raised, his gaze steady and warm as he waited for your response.  For a moment, the noise of the amusement park around you faded, leaving only the sincerity in his voice and the sweet expression on his face. 

That same smile of his lingered on his lips—a smile you hadn’t seen this close in so long.

And yet, somehow, it felt so familiar, like slipping you back into a memory you hadn’t realized you still hadn’t forgotten.

Without meaning to, you found yourself smiling back, the corners of your lips curving upward as if in reflex. It had been a while since someone made you feel this way—seen, heard, comforted without judgment. And it had been even longer since you’d seen Jaehyun look at you like this, with that quiet reassurance that seemed to say everything would be okay, even if you didn’t believe it yourself.

“You’re still good at this, you know,” you murmured, your voice soft as you broke the silence. Your head dipped slightly, your attention getting fixated on your knees once more. 

“Good at what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly again, his smile widening just a bit.

“Making people feel better,” you replied. You shifted your body upwards, now sitting properly after recollecting your thoughts, even if it were just for a little bit. “Even when they don’t think they can.”

“I do what I can,” Jaehyun’s smile faltered slightly, a crack in his otherwise composed exterior. Inside, his emotions churned slowly but steadily, threatening to unravel him. This moment felt too close—something he hadn’t noticed until now it was finally being pried open. It was almost as if pieces of him were slowly getting chipped away, each piece falling until only fragments remained. 

Fragments he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to glue back together.

Maybe it was the potion amplifying his emotions, or maybe it was the weight of his own unresolved feelings, but a part of him wanted to do something—a push towards the thought he’s been trying to bury away. Even if some pieces were lost, maybe this was his chance to start over. 

To rebuild. 

“Speaking of which,” he said suddenly, breaking the moment before his thoughts could consume him any further, “let’s not waste the day.”

You blinked, staring at his outstretched hand toward you. “What?”

“I’m not letting you sit here feeling like this,” Jaehyun insisted, soon standing up from his crouching position, hand still extended out. “We’re at an amusement park. Let’s go have fun.”

You hesitated. It almost felt like this was wrong, and it went out of your boundaries. This was supposed to be a date with Heeseung, but now Jaehyun is here, standing in front of you, offering to practically fill his spot. So, what made this? 

It can’t be considered a date—maybe a hangout. But, still, a hangout with your ex? 

Your matchmaker? 

The more you tried to sort through the mess of emotions inside you, the harder it became to ignore the almost pleading look on Jaehyun’s face. His fingers wriggled slightly as he held his hand out awkwardly, his other fist tightly gripping the fabric of his pants. He looked nervous, almost unsure of himself, and the sight tugged at something in your chest. 

His reaction made it harder to turn him now. 

At the end of the day, don’t you deserve something, too? 

Slowly, tentatively, you reached out and took his hand. The warmth of his palm instantly engulfed yours, and you felt the faintest tremble in his fingers. Jaehyun’s hand twitched at the sudden contact, and for a moment, it seemed like he might completely malfunction. But instead, his grip tightened—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you he was there, simply for you. 

“I promise this will be worth your time,” his voice shifted from awkwardness to a quiet sense of confidence, flashing another smile of his. 

Before you could respond, Jaehyun turned, still holding your hand as he began leading you toward the amusement park. His grip didn’t falter, firm yet gentle, as though he feared you might slip away at any moment.

This wasn’t how you expected your day to unfold. Yet here you were, side by side with Jaehyun, the buzz of the park surrounding you as colorful lights and cheerful chatter filled the air. You scanned your surroundings, taking in the endless rows of games, rides, and shops until something caught your eye.

Jaehyun had been busy glancing around, seemingly trying to pick out the perfect first stop, when he felt a soft tap on his arm. Turning toward you, he was met with the sight of your eager expression as you pointed toward one of the brightly decorated shops.

“We should go there first,” you said, tugging lightly at his shirt sleeves. “I’ve always wanted to buy one of those headband accessories.”

Jaehyun followed your gaze to the shop, where a variety of playful headbands adorned with animal ears and other silly headpieces were displayed. He chuckled softly, his usual calm demeanor melting into something more playful as he turned his head back to you. 

Oddly enough, he felt at ease when he was around you this time. 

“Really? That’s what you want to do first?” he teased, though the warmth in his tone betrayed how amused he was by your enthusiasm.

“Yes, really,” you said, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile. You were starting to warm up, abandoning the facade you had just a few moments prior. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

Jaehyun shook his head, a small laugh escaping him as he allowed you to tug him toward the shop. “Alright, alright. Let’s go see which one suits you best,” he said, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes as the two of you stepped inside.

Once inside the shop, you immediately gravitated toward the section of animal headbands. The shelves brimmed with accessories of every kind, and your eyes widened as they trailed over each design. Jaehyun followed behind, initially glancing at the shelves, but his gaze kept drifting back to you. His eyes lingered on your focused expression, the way your lips slightly puckered as you hummed softly while contemplating your choices.

It was almost too endearing to watch, and Jaehyun had to suppress a laugh that threatened to escape. He knew if he let it slip, the potion's effects would surge, making it harder to keep himself in check.

As he tried to hold himself back, you picked up a headband and examined it closely, turning it over in your hands before moving on to another. Finally, you settled on a brown headband with floppy, oversized dog ears. With a satisfied grin, you turned to face Jaehyun.

The suddenness of your movement startled him slightly, his eyes darting from your face to the headband in your hands. You motioned with one hand for him to lower himself, confusing him for a moment. When you repeated the gesture, Jaehyun hesitantly leaned down, still unsure what you were planning.

Without a word, you placed the headband on his head, carefully adjusting it. Your fingers brushed through his hair, lingering briefly on the strands near his forehead as you fixed the headband into place.

Jaehyun could feel his ears getting hot, momentarily freezing up while his thoughts were in a swirl—a similar feeling from the first time he had the potion take its effects. 

He had to keep himself in check. 

“This is for me?” Jaehyun asked, straightening up once you finished. He rubbed the back of his neck, brushing his fingers against his burning ear in an attempt to compose himself. It didn’t look like you noticed as your attention was brought back to the headbands on display, only humming in response. 

“It looks good on you,” you responded, smiling, though your smile faltered for a moment as you instinctively retreated into your thoughts. Once again, you instinctively thought of Jaehyun first, an old habit of yours that never seemed to die when you were around him. 

Before your thoughts could drift any further, they were abruptly interrupted as you felt something soft being placed on your head. You turned quickly, catching Jaehyun’s startled expression as he tried to keep the headband he just placed on you. 

His eyes widened slightly, a chuckle escaping his lips as his hands instinctively reached out—one resting lightly on your shoulder to keep you still, the other adjusting the headband that had shifted due to your movement.

Once satisfied, he stepped back and pointed toward the mirror in front of you both. “Now we’re matching,” Jaehyun declared with a hint of pride, though his confident smile faltered into something more bashful as he caught sight of your reflection.

You glanced at the mirror, noticing how the two of you wore similar designs—yours a white version of the floppy-eared headband, while his was brown. 

It looked like a couple’s item. 

Regardless of that, the sight of you two standing side by side brought a small laugh out of you, and you found yourself smiling despite the earlier heaviness in your chest.

“You look good in it too,” Jaehyun said, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. 

“I’ll admit, it’s kind of cute,” you said, tugging at the floppy ears. “Should we get these?” 

Jaehyun’s grin widened, and he nodded enthusiastically. Without another word, the two of you made your way to the checkout counter, the cashier giving a knowing smile as you both purchased your matching accessories.

With the headbands secured, it wasn’t long before you and Jaehyun were going through the amusement park, hopping from one ride to the next. From bumper cars that had you both laughing uncontrollably as you tried to hit each other to classic carnival games where Jaehyun insisted on winning you a plush toy—though he missed more than a few throws, making him utterly embarrassed. 

After he was able to win a mid-sized plush that he swore resembled you, you pointed at the rollercoaster ride you two somehow always managed to walk past. Jaehyun’s feet stood in place, not moving from what he stood on. 

You turned to look at him, whose fear and nervousness were clearly evident on his face—trying to hide it would be useless. 

Oddly enough, that expression was cute to you. 

“Are you scared?” 

“Me? Scared—” Jaehyun’s words get cut off after he turns silent while staring at the drop of the coaster, hearing the screams from the people—sending a sudden chill over his body. He gulped quietly, continuing on with his words, “I’m not scared.”

“Then, let’s go in line!” You grabbed onto his arm, getting a better grasp than before, considering how off guard he was by seeing the loops of the roller coaster. 

“Wait!” Jaehyun’s feet tried to remain in place on the ground, his arms flailing slightly during the process. His actions were clearly betraying his words, which you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Come on,” you coaxed, finally interlocking arms with Jaehyun to have a more successful chance of dragging him away. 

Jaehyun stumbled forward—not because of the force you put to move him into the line, but from the warmth from your body pressing into his arm

The once squirmy Jaehyun, who wanted nothing more than to teleport away from the situation, was now completely frozen, his gaze fixed ahead, yet his mind was undeniably tethered to you. He simply allowed you to drag him, as his thoughts always seemed to follow whenever you went. 

“Jaehyun?” Your voice finally broke through his daze after calling his name for the third—or maybe the fourth—time. It left you wondering curiously if he is really this scared of roller coasters. There was really no way for you to know beforehand this—you two never went on an amusement park date before. “Are you okay? We can always skip this if—”

“No, no, I’m—” Jaehyun quickly turned to reassure you, even if the expression on his face said otherwise. He truly wasn’t fine—far from it—but when he had a feeling you really wanted to go on this ride, he felt almost obligated to push back his fears. With the way your excitement seemed to glimmer in your eyes the first time, he could handle it, couldn’t he?

Though at this point, if there was anything he should be fearing, it was how dangerously close you two were. 

You two were practically face-to-face, which made Jaehyun feel his breath hitch in his throat. To make matters worse—or maybe better—you were still clinging onto his arm, your touch managing to keep him in place while simultaneously making his heart race out of control.

Jaehyun could see your lips moving, trying to say something, but your words didn’t reach him. It almost felt like you were mumbling when you truly weren’t. His eyes could only try to make sense of the movement of your lips, which was a complete struggle as everything seemed to blur into nothing but silence. 

With that given moment, it felt like everything intensified. It was as if the love arrow potion had decided to unleash its full power, breaking past every defense he’d built to suppress it. The sensation was overwhelming, almost suffocating, as if the arrow had pierced him all over again, but hitting him ten times harder than before. 

And then, without thinking, he muttered a single word.

“Pretty.”

The word slipped out before he could catch it, soft but clear enough that you froze for a moment. Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, and that was enough to snap Jaehyun back to reality.

Panic rushed through him, and he immediately stepped back, pulling himself out of your grasp as he waved his hands frantically.

“Pretty—I mean, I’m pretty fine with us going on this ride!” he blurted out, his voice hurried and tinged with nervous laughter. His ears burned as he tried to salvage the situation, feeling utterly exposed. “After all, we’re only a few people away from entering, right?”

You simply nodded, your cheeks suddenly heating up, even if you didn’t mean to feel flustered in that way after letting him complete the sentence.

But is it really so wrong for you to feel that way? 

The silence felt heavy as you two awkwardly stood side by side, neither daring to exchange glances or words. Jaehyun was able to use that silence to be able to get himself to be composed again. His heartbeat was still going, not racing, and he didn't feel a burning sensation from his ears or face, leaving him calmer—or at least calmer than before. 

As Jaehyun finally arrived at the right state of mind, he now noticed the warmth of your touch had left him. For a fleeting moment, relief should’ve been his first reaction, but instead, it left behind an emptiness he hadn’t anticipated.

It was as if he missed it. 

“Next up in line!” the ride announcer called out, startling you both from your thoughts.

You turned to Jaehyun, catching the faint hesitation in his expression. But to your surprise, he started moving forward, almost as if he wanted to prove something—not just to you but maybe to himself.

And while you tried to keep your thoughts neutral, you couldn’t help but lean toward one explanation over the other. You wanted to believe that he was doing this for you. But that thought alone wasn’t good for you.

And it wasn’t good for you to have your mind wander to that possibility. 

Despite your inner turmoil, you found yourself seated in the middle of the ride. Jaehyun had suggested the spot, reasoning that it felt “safer” knowing there were people alive in front of him. His logic had been so ridiculous that you couldn’t help but laugh. You didn’t argue, though—you liked sitting in the middle anyway.

As the ride attendant double checked the seat restraint for you two, Jaehyun couldn’t help but ramble a bunch of questions that the attendant had no problem reassuring him about—and maybe letting out a chuckle or two. 

“That’s a lot of questions for someone who claims they’re not scared,” you teased, glancing at Jaehyun as he tightened his grip on the metal handles of the restraint.

“I’m not scared,” Jaehyun mumbled, but the stark contrast between his words and his appearance said otherwise. His knuckles were white from clutching the handle so hard, his lips had lost some color, and his eyes were wavering at every slight noise around him. 

“It’s better to be safe than sorry,” Jaehyun managed to say, chuckling nervously, almost as if he’s trying to reassure himself.

“It’s better to be safe than sorry,” Jaehyun managed to say, his voice shaky as he chuckled nervously, clearly trying—and failing—to convince himself more than you.

Even as he muttered words of self-reassurance, it all crumbled the moment the ride operator began counting down. Jaehyun’s face grew paler with every number, and before you knew it, he was whispering what sounded like a series of frantic prayers under his breath.

Seriously, it was almost humiliating for him—the amount of losses he had was overwhelming. His repeated failed attempts to win you a plushie that stumble earlier, and now, his current state as a nervous wreck after agreeing to ride something he clearly hated the idea of. How much more could he possibly embarrass himself?

You couldn’t help but feel even more endeared by this side of him. Watching his clumsy or frightened side of him felt oddly nostalgic. It reminded you of a time long ago, back when you had countless dates with him, watching him flounder when his nerves got the best of him. 

So, you couldn’t help but laugh at Jaehyun, whose eyes were already shut close when the ride finally started to move. 

It’s like you missed that sight of him. 

“Why are we still going up?” Jaehyun managed to say, his voice barely audible over the loud clanking of the roller coaster. His eyes darted open for a split second, only to snap shut again when he caught a glimpse of how high up you both were. From the ground earlier, it didn’t seem this terrifying, but now? 

“It will be fine, Jaehyun,” you said, almost as if you were attempting to cut through the amount of thoughts clouding in his mind. 

As much as Jaehyun wanted to believe your words, the way the ascent was getting higher—agonizingly slow—was making it hard for him to do so. 

“I seriously might pass out,” he muttered, his voice trembling as much as his hands.

“You won’t, Jaehyun.”

“And who are you to say that?” he shot back, his panic laced with disbelief.

“Because I’m here,” you said simply, glancing his way. “And as long as I’m okay, so will you.”

That sentence alone got Jaehyun to finally open his eyes again. Even with his fear gnawing at him, he found himself glancing to his side—where you were already looking at him. You two made eye contact, which led him to quickly forget about the fear pounding in his chest or the sweaty grip he had on the handles. But just as quickly, he broke eye contact, turning his head sharply to the front—only to regret it instantly. 

That was when he realized the cart had reached the top. 

Before he could even react, his stomach dropped along with the cart, and a startled scream was released from his throat, perfectly in sync with the other riders. Jaehyun panicked, his hands flailing desperately after he had accidentally let go of the restraint. His grip faltered as he tried to latch onto the restraint again, only for his fingers to slip against the slick metal after he went through the first loop of the roller coaster. 

And then, without thinking, he managed to hold onto something near him—your hand. Along with him, you also didn’t even notice. You were still screaming in excitement—between the thrill of the drop and the way Jaehyun’s screams were practically blowing out your eardrums, which made things only funnier. 

You were too caught up in the adrenaline to even register the fact his fingers were desperately latching onto yours. What felt like eternity finally stopped when the cart slowly returned back to its original position. The screeching yells also came to a stop, leaving everyone a moment to either catch their breaths or gush about how fun that ride was. 

That was certainly the situation between you two—Jaehyun trying breathing exercises as he felt like he forgot to breathe while you wore a beaming expression on your face. 

“That was…fun,” you started off excitedly, trailing off at the last word as you felt the hold on your hand tighten. Only then did you finally look down, seeing Jaehyun’s fingers still holding onto yours. 

Your eyes shot back up from your hands to his face, in which you only saw his side profile as he was still recovering from the ride.

“That was not... fun,” Jaehyun muttered, mirroring your tone as his own gaze finally dropped to where your hands remained linked. The moment he registered where his hand was placed, his mouth was only slightly gaped. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and for a second, you both wore the same startled expression.

The ride operator interferes before you two could say anything to each other. 

“Arms up, please.” 

His fingers slipped away from yours, leaving behind only a lost sense of warmth—something you didn’t notice until now. Jaehyun’s parted lips pressed shut as he turned to look straight ahead again, letting the ride’s restraint be lifted off of him. 

Neither of you spoke as you stepped off the ride and walked away from the station. It almost felt like déjà vu—just like earlier, when you two had stood in line together in awkward silence.

You decided to break it first. “I’m hungry,” you said, figuring food was a safe enough topic.

Jaehyun turned his head sharply, his previous dazed state replaced with exaggerated disbelief. “You’re seriously hungry after that ride?” he asked, his voice louder than necessary, as if to erase the lingering awkwardness. “I feel nauseated.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. If nothing else, at least his dramatics had successfully lightened the mood.

After all, it wasn’t like he had meant to grab your hand—he was just terrified, and that was that. You weren’t particularly fazed by it though. If anything, you found it amusing how flustered he was.

“Alright, how about this?” you proposed, shooting him an easy smile. “We’ll take a break, grab some food, and then you get to pick the last ride.”

Jaehyun’s expression instantly shifted, the excitement returning to his eyes like a light switch had been flipped. He nodded eagerly, humming in approval. 

The two of you took your time wandering around, casually debating what to eat as you passed various food stands. There were plenty of tempting options, but eventually, you both settled on corn dogs, agreeing to share a funnel cake afterward. Decisions like these were effortless with Jaehyun—it was easy to compromise and even easier to enjoy the moment.

It didn’t take long for you to finish eating, to which the roles had reversed—Jaehyun was now dragging your arm around to find something to go on. It was getting dark out, so Jaehyun quickly picked a ride in no time. Jaehyun came to a sudden stop, his face lighting up as he pointed ahead. 

“We—or I��never got to ride one of these before,” he announced, staring in awe at the towering Ferris wheel in front of you.

You turned to look at him, only to be met with his best attempt at puppy-dog eyes, as if he needed to convince you.

You chuckled at his expression, simply nodding in agreement, as truthfully, you didn’t need much persuading.

You haven’t been on a ferris wheel yet either. 

The line wasn’t as long as compared to the roller coaster, so it led you two to instantly get into one of the pods, settling into your seats across from each other. 

As the Ferris wheel ascended, you exclaimed in awe as you stared at the things from ground level that were slowly getting smaller. You stared at the glowing lights from all the other rides and booths from above.

“It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?” Jaehyun murmured, his voice softer now, filled with genuine admiration. You hummed in agreement, unable to also look away from the outside view. 

That was, until you peered over at Jaehyun, watching his eyes dazzle with amazement while your eyes lingered on him, warmth suddenly pooling in your chest. 

“You know,” you started, leaning back against the cushioned seat, “I’m really thankful for you today.”

Jaehyun turned his head slowly, his gaze meeting yours as his smile grew wider. “Don’t be,” he said, almost shyly.

“No, like, seriously,” you insisted, your voice more animated. “I don’t think I would’ve had this much fun if I wasn’t with you.”

Jaehyun blinked, his lips pressing together as if holding back another smile. “Well,” he said after a beat, “I’m glad you felt comfortable enough with me.”

You exhaled a small laugh, shaking your head. “I’m even more glad that it was you I spent the day with.”

For a second, Jaehyun didn’t say anything—simply looking at you, his expression unreadable yet soft. However, with a soft chuckle, he leaned back as well, his eyes still lingering on you as if he were seeing something just as mesmerizing as the view outside. 

“Me too.” 

RULE #7: Don’t Leave your Clients Confused 

You didn’t know how to feel. 

From the day you met him again—to now—things had never felt more confusing than before. 

Especially ever since that day, it had never left your mind. Even if you wanted to push it aside, all it did was continue to linger, creeping into your thoughts when you least expected it. 

It wasn’t even supposed to be an actual date—let alone being a real one. Jaehyun had simply stepped in for Heeseung, who never showed up. And yet, at no point did Jaehyun feel like a replacement. Not when he showed up beside you, effortlessly easing the disappointment you had been trying to suppress. Not when he went out of his way to make you laugh, making the entire day feel lighthearted and effortless. Not even when he insisted on taking you home; his concern was so genuine that it made your chest tighten.

It felt almost too genuine. 

Everything about that day felt like it was supposed to be Jaehyun. If he wasn’t there, you wouldn’t have had that much fun with someone else. And that thought alone had your mind spiraling.

You were analyzing every little thing—the way he’s been looking at you these past few weeks, the way he was always caught in a trance when you spoke, and the way his smiles never seemed to leave his face whenever he was around you. 

And for those things, you thought about all kinds of possibilities. You even thought about all the what-ifs, trying to create explanations that made sense with his actions. 

Even with the amount of things you’d try to tell yourself with some made-up reasoning behind his actions, there were obviously some questions that you couldn’t answer. 

Some things were easy to reason with. Of course, Jaehyun had been nervous—he hadn’t seen you in a while, and being thrown into such an intimate setting would make anyone uneasy. Of course, he had been extra cheerful—he was just trying to lift your spirits after being ditched. It all made perfect sense.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But there were still questions you couldn’t answer. No matter how many times you tried to rationalize it, none of it added up.

Why did he make you feel this way?

And, more importantly—

What exactly were your feelings for Jaehyun?

Why were you feeling the very same feelings you once felt during your relationship with him? Why couldn’t you bring yourself to hate the fact that those feelings were stirring up again?

Why did you—against all logic—want to keep feeling this way?

It was undeniable that Jaehyun had the looks—one of the most attractive people you’ve ever known. But it wasn’t just his looks. He had a sweet personality—his kindness, his bubbly-like energy, and his effortless care for people without hesitation—those were the things that made him all seem perfect. 

Reuniting with him only brought back those flood of memories—the ones you claimed you managed to bury beneath stacks of paperwork and long hours from your job. 

He was, in every sense, the dream guy. 

And yet, feeling this way now almost made you feel guilty. After all, the two of you had chosen to part ways. You had told yourselves it was for the best—that your demanding work schedules had left little room for love. That drowning in responsibilities was easier than trying to hold onto something that was slipping away.

So you buried yourself in work. It was only fair, wasn’t it? If your career was the thing that had consumed your relationship, then it should consume you too.

Your routine always felt repetitive—the days had become a cycle of early commutes, endless tasks, and late nights hunched over your desk. The only real challenge was making it home before the last train filled up, securing a seat before exhaustion fully settled in. And when you did get home, there was always more work waiting. If you were lucky, you’d steal an hour of sleep before doing it all over again.

Some days felt more draining than others, but you had convinced yourself it was normal. This—this routine of working yourself to the bone—was normal.

So, why did Jaehyun’s presence disrupt the kind of lifestyle you had built for yourself?

You mindlessly stared at your laptop screen, your word count barely reaching a hundred. The blinking cursor taunted you, yet no matter how hard you tried to focus, your thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Even if you wanted to forget everything—just like you used to—the thought of him refused to leave your mind.

You let out a small huff, looking away from the document to grab the cup of water on your dining table. As you took a sip, your eyes wandered at the table, landing on your coat draped messily over the table. And right next to it...

The white dog ears headband.

The one Jaehyun picked out for you.

Because it suited you. 

You swallowed your water too fast, nearly choking as you hastily cleared your throat, the sudden clang of your cup hitting the table breaking the silence. Slowly, you steadied your movements, pushing the cup back to its original spot as if that could somehow fix the mess in your head.

But your eyes remained fixed on the headband. You reluctantly reach your hand over to grab it. Your fingers brushed against the soft fabric as you absentmindedly played with the ears, twisting them between your fingertips. And just like that, the memories came rushing back.

Just how could you help yourself?

How could you forget the way he smiled at you, saying the headband was perfect for you? The way he wore the other matching piece without hesitation? 

How could you forget his caring words and consistent reassurance, always checking to see if you were okay? How could you forget the warm grasp on your hand on the roller coaster? How could you forget the smile that adorned his face and how his laughter managed to fill up the entire place?

And most of all—the way his eyes held so much love.

How could you forget the way his eyes looked just like they were before? 

You quickly threw the headband back onto the table, covering your face with both hands. A muffled groan left your lips as you mumbled under your breath, shaking your head.

You truly had lost it.

You wanted to pull yourself together to shake off the overwhelming thoughts clouding your mind. But no matter how hard you tried, it felt as if you had been teleported back in time—except instead of drowning in paperwork, Jaehyun consumed every inch of your thoughts.

No matter what you could do, he just seemingly happened to be everywhere. He would always be lingering in your mind, in the little details of your day—in the spaces you swore only belonged to you. 

So, as much as you had vowed to immerse yourself in work, to not let anything deter you from your responsibilities, your fingers betrayed you. Instead of returning your focus to the laptop screen, you reached for your phone. 

You immediately looked in your photo album, looking over the pictures from that day—pictures of you and Jaehyun, candid moments he captured when you weren’t looking, and secret pictures you took whenever he just seemed too cute to not to. 

Without even trying to suppress it, a smile creeps onto your face. Your chest felt lighter, warmth spreading from inside out as you continued to scroll through the mountain of photos. 

That’s when you knew that you realized it. 

You couldn’t keep pretending. You couldn’t keep denying what had become so painfully obvious. There was no reasoning left to twist your feelings into something logical, no excuse that could explain away the way your heart reacted to him.

Jaehyun managed to do his thing—to strike an arrow directly through your heart, making you unable to even try to escape from it. 

Everyone had always said it. Jaehyun is an amazing cupid.

You just never expected to be his next target.

RULE #8: There’s Never No Solution 

Around Jaehyun’s business, words traveled fast. It was a given—he was the owner, after all. He was supposed to know everything before anyone else did.

Or at least, that was how it was supposed to go.

So why, instead of knowing the latest news firsthand, did he have to go find Taesan after Woonhak had suddenly burst into his office, practically breathless, only not to say much despite his excited appearance? 

"Wait—what's going on?" Jaehyun called out, eyebrows knitting together. He couldn’t even process Woonhak’s words, let alone even be able to process his sudden appearance. 

Woonhak merely grinned, shaking his head. "Taesan will tell you everything."

Jaehyun scowled. "That doesn't answer anything."

But Woonhak was already gone, leaving Jaehyun standing there, even more frustrated than before.

With an exasperated sigh, Jaehyun pushed aside the pile of paperwork he had been working on, knowing there was no point in trying to focus on it now. He had no choice but to go find Taesan himself—again.

It was never surprising. Taesan always had his own tasks, always busy with something, yet somehow, he never had a problem asking others to come to him whenever he had something to say.

It was just the way he was.

And Jaehyun was never bothered by it. But he still couldn’t help but feel the need to feel like something was up. Whatever this was about, he had a sinking feeling he wasn’t going to like it. 

"Jaehyun?" Taesan said, his eyes still glued to one of the drawers he was rummaging through, his ears picking up the distinct click of the door opening.

Jaehyun hummed as he shut the door behind him, his gaze sharpening as he watched Taesan absorb whatever task he was focused on. Jaehyun moved closer, hoping Taesan would be the one to break the silence, but Taesan stayed silent, his attention still fixed on whatever he was doing. Jaehyun couldn’t help but take a few slow steps forward, not wanting to interrupt but silently hoping the man would notice him first before the creeping awkwardness set in.

But, still, he was only faced with the sounds of shuffling while he stood there awkwardly, before finally breaking the uncomfortable silence. 

“So…” Jaehyun trails; his voice was hesitant as it was laced with confusion. “Mind explaining why Woonhak suddenly barged into my office just to tell me to find you?”

Taesan finally hummed in acknowledgement, still not looking up. “How do you feel?”

“How do I feel?” He scoffed lightly. “Come on, I need more than that.”

“Your arrow mishap,” Taesan finally said, now glancing up. It clicked in Jaehyun’s mind. Taesan was always the last to catch on, it seemed. “Is it still affecting you?”

Jaehyun sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. It hasn’t gotten any easier," he admitted, his mind drifting back to all the moments with you. Just being around you made his chest feel tight, like his heart was trying to beat out of his ribcage. But despite that, he couldn’t seem to stop wanting to be near you.

"The severity of it, I guess, depends on how close I am to the person I accidentally... fell in love with." He chuckled dryly, the words feeling strange on his tongue but undeniably true. “Unbelievable, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” Taesan shrugged, catching Jaehyun off guard.

Of all the reactions Jaehyun had gotten from his friends about his accidental self-inflicted arrow, this was by far the least expected. Every other time he brought it up—whether he wanted to or not—he was met with relentless teasing, concern, or a mix of both. 

But Taesan? He seemed not even the slightness fazed by it. 

Jaehyun wore a furrowed brow, crossing his arms as if that was going to give him the support that he needed. “Just a ‘not really’? You’re not going to... discipline me for it?” 

Taesan finally looked up from the drawer, tilting his head slightly as if Jaehyun had just asked a pointless question. “Why would it be a big deal?”

Jaehyun opened his mouth, then shut it, narrowing his eyes. “Are you serious? I’m a cupid, Taesan. We don’t fall in love. We make other people fall in love.”

“You make it sound like a forbidden rule,” Taesan chuckled.

“It basically is,” Jaehyun muttered, his gaze shifting onto the floor. 

"If you make it sound so forbidden," Taesan mused, his tone teasing. "Then what if I told you I could help you finally erase the effects of the bow?"

Jaehyun’s eyes widened in shock. His arms dropped to his sides before he rushed forward, slamming his hands onto Taesan’s desk with a force that made the other slightly flinch. It wasn’t often that Jaehyun lost his composure, but now, with his hands splayed against the desk and his breath slightly uneven, he looked more frantic than Taesan had ever seen him.

“What—how?” Jaehyun stammered, his words tumbled out hastily. His reaction alone made it clear just how unexpected this was. No one had ever offered a solution before, so hearing it now—from Taesan, of all people—felt almost too good to be true.

“I didn’t expect you to react like this,” Taesan said, leaning back slightly from Jaehyun, who was too close in his personal space to his liking. “But yes, I can help.” 

“How?” Jaehyun demanded, his voice barely above a whisper. His fingers were curled against the wood, almost as if he needed something to try to prove to him that he wasn’t dreaming. 

Taesan didn’t answer immediately—once again. Seriously, Jaehyun could feel like he could collapse with how long it seemed like he was taking to tell him these things. Instead, he reached into the drawer he had been rummaging through earlier, retrieving a small glass vial filled with a shimmering, purple liquid. 

“You’re saying this is all I need?” Jaehyun tried to keep his voice steady, not wanting to seem ungrateful. In reality, he was more relieved than anything.

He doesn’t know how much longer he could be able to contain these kinds of feelings to himself around you. 

Taesan gave the vial a slow swirl, his eyes fixated on the shimmering liquid inside as if assessing its potency one last time before handing it over.

Jaehyun reached out with both hands, nearly freezing when the cold glass met his fingertips. Lifting it closer to his face, he examined it carefully another time. It looked like it was ordinary, purple medicine—except for the glitter swirling within. 

“What do I do with this?” he finally asked, tilting the vial slightly.

“Just drink it,” Taesan said simply. “The effects should wear off soon after.”

Jaehyun’s gaze flickered up, suspicion creeping in. “Where did you even get this?”

Taesan leaned back slightly, arms crossing over his chest. “You’re not the first cupid to fall victim to their own arrow,” he admitted. “It’s more common than you’d think. And well, you could say I’m the one who handles cases like these.”

Jaehyun blinked, momentarily stunned. The solution had been within reach this whole time. He could have come to Taesan from the start and spared himself the turmoil.

Taesan seemed to read his mind and smiled. “Before you start blaming anyone, I never told the others about this. We were never advised to.”

Jaehyun nodded quickly, accepting Taesan’s words before he could even begin to place blame elsewhere. Without hesitation, he popped open the cap and brought the vial to his lips, downing the liquid in one swift gulp.

The bitterness hit him immediately, a sharp, unpleasant aftertaste lingering on his tongue. He let out a hiss of dissatisfaction, grimacing as he swallowed the last drop.

Taesan extended his hand, prompting Jaehyun to toss the empty vial toward him. With ease, Taesan caught it, barely glancing up as he set it aside.

“How soon will it take effect?” Jaehyun asked, his voice edged with impatience. He wasn’t feeling anything yet, and for some reason, that made him uneasy. Shouldn’t there be some kind of reaction? A tingling sensation, a rush of warmth—something?

“It usually happens faster than you could even know it,” Taesan replied, his attention shifting back to the stack of files he had set aside earlier. “At least, that’s how it worked for the others. You shouldn’t be any different.”

Jaehyun frowned, glancing down at his hands as if expecting them to tremble or glow. Nothing.

"Don't worry, you're not supposed to feel any different from your normal self," Taesan reassured, catching a glimpse of Jaehyun flipping his hands over, inspecting them as if expecting some kind of glow or change.

Jaehyun sighed, shaking off his nerves. There was no reason to doubt Taesan—he had already taken the potion, after all. Now, he could only wait for it to take effect. Feeling a sense of relief, he quickly bid his goodbyes and stepped out of the office.

As he made his way back, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pausing mid-step, he pulled it out, his eyes immediately landing on your contact name.

He paused momentarily, his mind going blank as he stared at his screen before it closed on its own due to inactivity. Quickly pressing the side button, he reopened his phone to click on the notification, ready to type a reply. 

He stopped in his steps to be able to formulate some sort of response—something that would keep the conversation going. The moment you replied, his heart reacted the same way it always did around you, a familiar warmth creeping in.

It felt… off.

He was supposed to be cured, wasn't he? He knew better that Taesan wasn’t the type to lie, and yet, here Jaehyun was, still feeling the rush of excitement and nerves just from texting you.

Maybe the potion just needed more time to kick in.

That had to be it.

After all, that was the only explanation he would take for why he was still so happy just to be talking to you. RULE #9: Love Never Leaves, It Sticks.

It felt strange to admit that you had completely overlooked the fact that Jaehyun was the one responsible for setting you up with a perfect match. And, to some extent, he also forgot about his duties too. 

The only reason was that Jaehyun had done his part—he had found potential matches for you, offering names, profiles, and possibilities. But every time, you declined. It left him puzzled, unsure of what to do.

Who would refuse Cupid’s advances to help them find their person? In fact, who was Cupid MJ to flat out give up their client’s journey to love without a proper explanation from the person he’s trying to set up himself? 

Letting you go wasn’t an option. That wasn’t how he was taught. He didn’t know how to handle a client who showed no interest in any of the matches he curated. His job wasn’t just about arranging dates—it was about guiding the client until they expressed their own satisfaction. Only then could he receive a review, and only then could he reach his quota.

So, with that in mind, Jaehyun found himself sticking around. Messaging you, calling when the opportunity arose—keeping the connection alive in whatever way he could. It was beginning to feel like something more than just a supposedly professional relationship, but still, he reasoned with himself: he was doing a good thing, right?

Now, as he anxiously paced around his room, debating what to wear before heading out to meet you, he reassured himself again.

This wasn’t a bad thing.

If anything, maybe he should embrace the fact that you had asked him to hang out. That had to mean something, right? If he was nervous, then surely you were too.

And you were.

You had been muttering to yourself all evening, standing up every few minutes to readjust the setup in your apartment. It made sense to have the hangout at your place—you had the materials for a clay-making session. The idea had come naturally after you both talked about those tiny clay figurines everyone seemed to be making lately. It was a casual, easy thing to do. A simple activity.

But despite that, you still felt a little jittery.

You weren’t sure what had come over you when you asked him to hang out, but after all those conversations—after all the moments spent talking to him—it only felt right.

A proper hangout.

Not by chance. Not by force.

Just... because you both wanted to.

You sat there, envisioning how the day would unfold, a giddy excitement bubbling within you. It wasn’t hard to acknowledge your feelings, not when they had been creeping up on you for some time now—lingering in the way you pushed through your workload just to have an excuse to text him, or how you found comfort in the soft tone of his voice over late-night calls.

The loud sound of the doorbell cut through your thoughts—two quick rings. Jaehyun was finally here. You shot up from your seat, hurriedly slipping into your slippers before making your way to the door. The lock clicked as you twisted the doorknob, revealing Jaehyun standing before you. He offered a small wave, his familiar smile tugging at the corners of his lips, leaving you to return the same gestures. 

Oddly enough, Jaehyun didn’t seem awkward—especially since it had been a while since he last visited your place. And yet, Jaehyun slipped off his shoes, quickly stepping into your place while you turned to shut and lock the door. 

Despite how long it had been since his last visit, Jaehyun didn’t seem hesitant or awkward. He stepped inside with ease, slipping off his shoes in one smooth motion as you closed the door behind him. His gaze swept across the space, taking in everything as if he were reacquainting himself with an old home.

Nothing had really changed. The furniture was still arranged the same, the decorations untouched, and the overall warmth of your apartment was just as he had remembered. Even after all this time, it still felt familiar.

It still felt like the place where you two once shared so many beautiful memories together. 

Jaehyun’s eyes eventually landed on the wall above your dining table, where a collection of paper prints hung neatly in contrast to the plain white walls. A flicker of recognition passed through his expression. Jaehyun remembers the prints—he was the one that had bought them for you. 

“You still kept these?” Jaehyun asked, his voice carrying a hint of surprise as he stepped closer to the prints on the wall. His fingers brushed lightly against one of them, careful not to accidentally make one of the papers drop. 

You blinked, following his glance, before letting out a hum of agreement. “Of course—why wouldn’t I?’

Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t know. It’s just been a while.”

You watched as he traced the edges of the prints, his expression unreadable. It was strange seeing him like this. It looked like he was facing nostalgia, or even seeming a little lost in thought. 

“They help make the room look brighter—you were also the one who insisted I put them up,” you reminded him, crossing your arms. “I didn’t really have a choice.”

Jaehyun let out a small laugh. “Right. I did, didn’t I?”

Shaking the thought away, you cleared your throat. “Come on, let’s get started before the clay dries out.”

Jaehyun turned to look at you, finally snapping out of his thoughts. “Right,” he said, smiling. “Let’s do this.”

You both quickly settled into your seats, Jaehyun wasting no time in tearing open the clay packages while you scrolled through your phone, looking for inspiration. The soft scent of fresh clay filled the air, adding to the cozy atmosphere of your apartment.

“What do you want to make?” you asked, glancing up from your screen.

Jaehyun furrowed his brows, rolling a small piece of clay between his fingers. "Hmm, good question,” he mused. “Maybe an animal? A dog—or maybe a penguin? They seem easy to make.”

“Who says we can’t do both?” You smiled, saving the pictures of the clay figures Jaehyun wants to make. “Now, help me look for other things we can make instead of just staring at the clay.” 

Jaehyun huffed out a small laugh but nodded, setting the clay down before pulling out his phone. “Alright, alright. Let’s find something else.” He scrolled through his screen while occasionally glancing at the clay in front of him, as if he were trying to picture how the tiny figures would come to life in his hands.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to settle on which figures to make, especially with how often you leaned in to peek at each other’s phones, exchanging suggestions and other ideas. After narrowing it down to five designs, you both got to work, grabbing and setting the clay blocks in front of you.

You pinched and pulled at the soft material, rolling it between your fingers as you alternated between glancing at the reference photo and shaping your piece, doing your best to replicate the details. Jaehyun was just as immersed, his brows furrowed in concentration as he mixed different clay colors together, determined to get the shades just right. His efforts paid off when he finally achieved the perfect one, a proud smile tugging at his lips—only to quickly fade when he realized he had made way more than he needed.

Turning his attention to you, he noticed how focused you were, carefully crafting the tiny eyes for your figure. Without hesitation, he split the excess clay in his hands, handing you the bigger portion before he returned to shaping the body of his figure.

You blinked at the generous chunk he had given you, glancing up at him with a raised brow. “You do know you just gave me the bigger piece, right?”

Jaehyun, still rolling his clay into shape, barely spared you a glance. “Yeah, but you’re better at this than me. You’ll probably make better use of it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your amusement as you both continued working. The silence that followed was comfortable, filled with the soft squish of clay and the occasional sighs of frustration when something didn’t turn out quite right. Every so often, one of you would mutter complaints under your breath, only for the other to snicker in response.

At one point, Jaehyun leaned back in his seat, holding up his tiny clay penguin with a smug grin. “Okay, not to brag, but I think I actually did a decent job.”

You squinted at it, leaning in before reaching over to poke its round head. “It’s actually really cute! But…” You tilted your head. “The eyes are a little wonky.”

Jaehyun gasped dramatically, pulling his penguin close to his chest as if shielding it from your words. “Are you hating on my penguin?” He scooted back slightly, placing a protective hand in front of it while wearing an exaggeratedly offended expression.

You burst into laughter at his antics, and he couldn’t hold back his own laughter either, setting the penguin down with a giggle.

“I’m not hating! At least yours is actually finished,” you pointed out, still rolling the orange clay between your fingers as you focused on shaping the penguin’s feet. The body was done, and you had already made the eyes, but you were carefully perfecting the details before assembling everything.

Jaehyun leaned forward, studying your half-finished creation. His eyes widened as he compared the two figures, placing his beside yours. “Okay, hold on—your penguin isn’t even complete yet, and it already looks better than mine. How did you do that?”

You shrugged, glancing between the picture on your phone and your clay figure. “I was just looking at the reference.”

Jaehyun let out a dramatic sigh and carefully picked up his penguin again. “This won’t do,” he muttered, setting it down in front of him as if he were analyzing all its flaws. “I need to make some improvements.”

You chuckled, smoothing out the rounded edges of the feet you were sculpting. “Jae, it looks fine,” you reassured him, glancing up with a small smile.

Jaehyun ignored your remark; his eyes locked on his creation as he smoothed out its uneven features. “Says the person who just called my penguin’s eyes wonky.”

You grinned, setting your now nearly finished figure down. “I meant it in a cute way.”

He shot you a look. “That’s just a nice way of saying it looks weird—if it’s even nice in the first place.”

You nudged him lightly, a small gesture of encouragement. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to make even better ones once we move on to the next ones.”

Jaehyun huffed but then smiled, rolling up his sleeves as if only now he was starting to get serious. And surprisingly, he did get better. 

The two of you got so caught up in sculpting that time slipped away unnoticed. What was supposed to be only five figures turned into more as you spent more time scrolling for more ideas, tapping on Jaehyun to recreate them. With that, you couldn’t help but chuckle at Jaehyun’s slightly lopsided creations, which always prompted a round of playful bickering. 

He’d always protest that that clay personally betrayed him, leaving you to only laugh harder as you shake your head to refute that point. Despite that, there were some clear improvements. Even if there were some pieces that seemed a little too round or flat, his figures did end up becoming more refined with the new details. 

At the end of it all—when you both finally checked the time—you realized just how long you'd been at it. The table was now covered with small, colorful clay creations, each one a testament to the hours spent laughing and sculpting.

Jaehyun, with a satisfied grin, began lining them up neatly, carefully placing each figure beside its matching pair. Once he was happy with the arrangement, he pulled out his phone and quickly snapped a picture, making sure to get every little detail. Without hesitation, he sent it to you. “There. Now we have proof of our masterpiece,” he said, turning his phone around to show you the image.

You smiled as you opened the message, admiring the tiny figures you both had worked so hard on. “They actually turned out really good,” you admitted, glancing over at him.

“I would hope so,” Jaehyun said with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair to stretch his arms behind his head. “After spending all that time making them.”

“Worth it, though,” you chuckled, tapping at your screen to save the photo. 

“What do we do with them?” Jaehyun asked, still remaining in his current posture. 

“I’ll keep them,” you announced, before suddenly gasping as a thought struck you.

Without another word, you grabbed as many clay figures as your hands could hold—careful not to squish them—and hurried across the room. Jaehyun turned in his seat, watching you with curiosity as you stopped in front of a shelf.

One of the shelves was completely empty, a perfect space for your new collection. You carefully placed the figures down, aligning them just as Jaehyun had arranged them earlier. Once they were neatly lined up, you turned to face him, grinning.

Jaehyun, who had been observing the whole thing with an amused expression, glanced between the shelf and you. “You’re really making a display out of them?” he chuckled, shaking his head.

Instead of answering, you quickly ran back to grab the remaining figures. This time, Jaehyun stood up, scooping up a few clay figures himself before trailing behind you to the shelf.

Once the last of the figures were placed neatly on the shelf, Jaehyun stepped back, arms crossed, as he admired the colorful lineup. He hummed in satisfaction, nodding approvingly before glancing at you.

"Are you actually going to keep these here?" he asked, raising a skeptical brow.

You scoffed, as if he had just asked the most absurd question. "Of course I am! We spent so much time on them—I can’t just take them apart like they were nothing."

Jaehyun smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Hmm, but how can I trust you on that? What if, the moment I leave, you take them down? Or even worse—" his voice dropped into a dramatic whisper, "What if you throw them away?"

“I would never!” You insisted. “You can visit again next time, and I promise the figures will still be here.”

Jaehyun’s lips curled into a grin. "Wait... was that you subtly inviting me to hang out again?"

"You started it," you muttered, quickly averting your gaze as you searched for a way to change the subject. Your eyes flickered to the clock, and you suddenly got a thought. "Do you want something to eat before you go? We completely forgot to eat anything."

“I would like that.”

Nodding, you grabbed your phone and sat back at the dining table, scrolling through a food delivery app. Meanwhile, Jaehyun found his gaze drifting back to the shelf, his fingers absentmindedly grazing the edge as he admired the tiny clay figures once more.

They weren’t perfect—not even close. Some were lopsided, others a little misshapen, but they held a charm he couldn’t ignore. Maybe it was because they were made with you.

And then his chest tightened.

That all-too-familiar pounding in his heart returned, an effect he swore he had rid himself of. Hadn't he? The supposed cure was meant to work, yet here he was, feeling the same way he always had around you.

Jaehyun’s eyes flickered back to you, his lips unconsciously curling at the sight of your focused expression, brows slightly furrowed as you scrolled through the menu.

Had the potion failed? Or... had his feelings never truly left in the first place?

The way he was feeling wasn’t perfect either—it was far from ideal. The pounding in his chest, the way his thoughts tangled whenever he looked at you—it was overwhelming, almost suffocating. A part of him felt like he needed to escape, to put distance between you and himself just to regain some sense of composure. Maybe if he ran far enough, he could recover. Maybe he could convince himself that this was nothing more than a lingering effect of something that should’ve faded by now.

But then there was you. There was always you. 

Just like the clay figures—no matter how imperfect or uneven—he found himself wanting to overlook the flaws, to overlook and accept the nagging feelings that were tugging at his chest. Because somehow, in the moments he spent with you, everything felt perfect enough. 

And that was everything he was looking for. 

To be in love. 

RULE #10: Once a Client, Always Your Client.

Jaehyun had always been strict when it came to rules, routines, and the careful structure he had built for himself. And yet, when it came to you, he found himself hesitating—not to break those rules, but to carve out quiet exceptions just for you.

It wasn’t that he hated the idea of being with you. What he hated was the feeling of being held back, restrained by reasons he couldn't quite grasp. Because the truth was, he did want those late-night walks, arms swinging side by side, fingers brushing in a way that sent warmth curling through his chest. He wanted to spend an entire day before an anniversary decorating, making sure everything was just right. He wanted to laugh until his stomach ached, gasping for air through tear-streaked laughter, unable to stop because being with you made everything that easy.

He wanted all of it.

And he wanted it only with you.

That was the reason why he kept going back—to chip away at the very walls he had built around himself. He went out of his way to text you, to meet you, to be near you. It felt effortless and natural—something that should’ve felt right. And yet, there was still that nagging thought, a lingering voice that was in the back of his mind telling him to stop. 

Was it fear? The fear of breaking Cupid’s rules, of stepping beyond the boundaries he was meant to uphold? Or was it the thought of being ridiculed, of being the one to fall instead of making others fall in love? 

Or was it the thought of having what he considered his true love slip away from him again? 

Whatever it was, it bothered him, clearly unshakable and noticeable—enough that Riwoo had to drop by, his concern written all over his face, just to check on him. 

Riwoo had always been Jaehyun's safe space—the one person he could confide in without hesitation, the one who always listened without judgement. He was the only one who knew at first—the one who confidently took over Jaehyun’s shifts just so he could be with you. So, seeing Jaehyun sprawled out on the couch, lost in thought, wasn’t just concerning for Riwoo—it was concerning for Jaehyun himself. 

He wasn’t the type to sit still like this, to let his feelings consume him so completely. But right now, it felt like that was all he could do. 

“What’s on your mind?” Riwoo sat back in one of the single-seat couches, his gaze never leaving Jaehyun, who looked like he’d checked out of the world entirely. He was slumped, his body unmoving, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if he could stare through it into some distant place. It was as if he wasn’t really there at all.

Jaehyun finally broke the silence, his voice low. “A lot of things,” he murmured, his words barely audible.

Riwoo leaned forward, his expression softening. “Tell me one of them,” he said, his tone almost gentle—the kind of voice you use when you know someone seems to have a lot on their mind. “You know you can’t keep all of this to yourself, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling as he remained fixated on the ceiling. His mind was a tangled mess, but if he had to pick just one thing—one thought that refused to leave him alone—he knew exactly what it was.

“It’s… about her,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual.

Riwoo leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “I figured,” he said knowingly. “What about her?”

Jaehyun shut his eyes for a moment, as if doing so would somehow help him find the right words. “I keep going back to her,” he finally said, his voice laced with frustration. “Even when I tell myself I shouldn’t. Even when I know it goes against everything I’m supposed to stand for.”

“What’s so wrong about falling in love? Riwoo asked, his voice cutting through the heavy silence.

Jaehyun’s eyes fluttered open, slowly processing the question. It was a simple one, yet it felt like an unexpected weight. For as long as he could remember, love was something to be avoided—something that could jeopardize everything a Cupid was meant to do. Hearing Riwoo speak those words, however, felt strange—almost unsettling.

He had been taught his entire life that love wasn’t meant for someone like him.

Every Cupid should know to avoid getting tangled up in love themselves. 

“I should be helping people find love, not falling into it myself,” Jaehyun murmured. The very words that he held against himself finally started feeling heavy with the weight of the years of expectations he set for himself to follow. It didn’t feel right for him to be saying that now, especially given how and what he’s been doing. 

Riwoo’s chuckle interrupted his thoughts. “You make it seem like Cupids can’t find love either.”

Jaehyun paused, his brow furrowing. “Isn’t that what they always told us?”

Riwoo’s smile faded into something more thoughtful. “It may not seem like an ideal situation for a Cupid,” he said slowly, as if reflecting on his own experiences with being around other Cupids. “But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

Jaehyun looked at him, skeptical. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, seriously.” Riwoo leaned forward, his gaze more earnest now. “Why do you think I accepted the idea of you dating Y/N in the first place? Why do you think I’ve been covering your shifts whenever you needed it? I’ve always made space for you to be with her.”

Jaehyun felt a knot in his chest. He knew Riwoo was right. His friend always seemed to appear at the right time, sometimes without even needing to be asked. Every time Jaehyun needed to be with you, Riwoo was there to take his place.

“Where are you going with this?” Jaehyun asked, trying not to let his hopes rise too quickly.

“I’m trying to tell you,” Riwoo began, his voice getting softer, “that Cupids can’t hate the idea of love.”

Jaehyun’s mind buzzed with the implications of Riwoo’s words, and then he remembered something Taesan had once said. “Like Taesan said before,” Riwoo continued, “you aren’t the only one who’s been put in situations like this.”

Jaehyun shifted his position, moving from sprawling lazily on the couch to sitting upright, his posture tense. His mind raced, but the words still felt trapped in his throat.

“You’re still lost?” Riwoo asked, eying Jaehyun’s every sudden move. 

“It’s not that." Jaehyun let out a slow breath, his gaze drifting to the floor as he processed his thoughts. “From the moment I drank that potion Taesan gave me, I was told everything would just... disappear. But it didn’t work. I still feel exactly the same. I just feel…confused.”  

“Do you hate the idea of liking her?”

Jaehyun shook his head almost immediately, his fingers absentmindedly tapping on the edge of the couch. “I don’t. I really don’t. And I don’t know what to do with that.” 

““And I’m telling you that it’s okay if you want to love her,” Riwoo said with a smile. “Helping others find love doesn’t mean you have to give up your own.”

Jaehyun hadn’t realized how badly he needed to hear those words. All this time, he’d convinced himself that his feelings weren’t meant to be accepted, even though deep down, he yearned for that very thing. Hearing Riwoo’s reassurance lifted a weight from his shoulders, replacing his lingering worries with a silent urgency. The need to act, to take the step he’d been hesitating on, was suddenly clear.

“I think I need to go,” Jaehyun muttered as he stood, grabbing the nearest hoodie hanging by the door. He barely even looked at it before pulling it over his head, his mind already a few steps ahead, fixed on the next thing.

Riwoo didn’t need him to say more. He just sat back, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He watched Jaehyun with a mix of amusement and understanding. Even if Jaehyun hadn’t said the words directly, it was clear what he wanted.

Jaehyun was heading straight to you.

“You got this,” Riwoo said softly, as if the words could somehow give Jaehyun the last bit of courage he needed. Jaehyun paused before stepping out of his door, offering Riwoo a small but genuine smile, whispering a thank you. 

The moment Jaehyun stepped out and closed his door behind him, his heart picked up speed. Each step felt like it was pulling him closer to something he wanted but couldn’t quite understand—something that had been waiting for him. The answers weren’t clear, and maybe they never would be. But for once, at this moment, Jaehyun didn’t feel the need to chase them. He didn’t seem to mind. 

He just needed to show up. 

As he neared your place, he could feel the anticipation building in his chest, almost like a tightness he couldn't shake. His hand hovered over his phone, his thumb hesitant for a brief second. He took a deep breath, telling himself to stop overthinking. 

He was already here. He couldn’t turn back now. 

Before his mind could talk him out of it, Jaehyun pressed the call button next to your contact. One ring, and he immediately felt a rush of jitters flood through him. The second ring, his fingers twisted the fabric of his hoodie, his nerves getting the better of him. By the third ring, he finally heard your voice on the other line.

"Jaehyun?"

He froze for a moment, hearing his name fall from your lips. The sound made his heart race, but he quickly composed himself, trying to ignore the sudden increased pacing in his chest.  

"Y/N... Hi."

"Hey, what's up?" 

"Can I see you?" Jaehyun wasn’t too sure if you could hear the sudden tremble in his voice, but he could only pray that you didn’t. 

"Like... right now?"

"Just for a little while, yeah. I don’t want to rush you or anything, but I’m nearby, and—well, if you’re not up for it, that’s totally fine. I know it’s late."

"Stop worrying, Jae. I'll be out in a few. Just wait for me." you said, and Jaehyun couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. He was already a little lost in the thought of what he wanted to say, but for now, he just waited, allowing himself to calm down as the seconds ticked by.

"I’ll be here,” he responded back quickly. 

He could almost picture your expression once he heard the soft chuckle you gave as the line went quiet again, leaving him standing there, staring at the phone in his hand. His nerves didn’t settle completely, but it didn’t matter anymore. He had done it. He had reached out. And now, all he had to do was wait.

After a few moments, Jaehyun spotted you running out of your apartment complex. You waved, and he quickly waved back.

"Hi," you said, as if the greeting over the phone hadn’t already happened. "Where do you want to go?"

 "Is it okay if we just stay out here?" he asked, knowing this was something that he needed. There was something comforting about being in an open space—a sense of calm he didn’t want to lose. He needed the fresh breeze of air, but more importantly, he simply needed a little room to breathe if things became overwhelming. 

"Yeah, of course," you said, nodding. You pointed toward a bench just outside the complex. "We can sit there."

Jaehyun shifted slightly on the bench, feeling the cool night air brush against his face. The sounds of distant traffic blended with the quiet night, giving everything a sense of calm he hadn’t expected. Sitting next to you with no distractions, it almost felt like time slowed down. The pressure in his chest eased just a little more.

“What did you want to see me for?” you finally spoke, turning to face Jaehyun. He also turned to look at you, your face illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlamp. His heart skipped, just like it always did when you looked at him like that—with that same curiosity and warmth in your eyes. It made his thoughts scatter, but he pushed them back, trying to focus.

“I just... needed to talk,” he said, his words coming out quieter than he expected. He wasn’t sure how to put what he was feeling into words. He let out a small chuckle, noticing how ridiculous it was for him to be acting this nervous. “I’ve been holding back from saying this, actually.”

“About what?” you asked softly, your voice laced with both curiosity and a hint of worry. Something about the way Jaehyun had called you out here felt different, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was something important. Your heart skipped a beat, uncertainty swirling in your chest as you tried to read his expression. 

"About... us,” Jaehyun finally confessed, his voice quieter than usual. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this—about you—and what it really means. I know the timing might seem a little off, especially with me having to be involved in your love life by setting you with others, but I can’t seem to shake these feelings I have for you.”

“You have feelings for me?” you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and disbelief, the words barely leaving your lips.

He nodded, his cheeks flushing as he looked away for a moment, trying to gather himself. The honesty in his words felt foreign, almost suffocating after he’d spent so much time hiding it. “Ever since you walked into my office that day, I’ve been trying not to feel it. I didn’t want to admit it, but when I saw you, it wasn’t fear I felt in my stomach. It was… relief. Relief that I finally got to see you again.”

Jaehyun’s voice trailed off as he shifted uncomfortably, but there was something raw in his eyes that made you pause. It was the kind of vulnerability he rarely let anyone see, let alone you.

“You’ve kept that with you this whole time?” you asked again, trying to reconfirm his answer as your thoughts spiraled. 

He nodded again, his fingers suddenly fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. “I didn’t want to complicate things, but I knew I couldn’t keep pretending my feelings are simply nothing.” 

The weight of his words was finally setting into you after you tried processing everything. Your mind felt like it was in a haze—this was unexpected, but not completely. You always felt a shift between you two but never allowed yourself to fully acknowledge it. You were the one who brought the idea of breaking it off first, after all. 

And now, it felt as though time had folded itself back, bringing you to that moment when Jaehyun first confessed to you. That same rush of emotions, the happiness tangled with confusion, was there again. But this time, you felt different—stronger, surer. 

You knew better now; you knew that you couldn’t let someone like him slip away again.

“I’m really happy that you’re telling me this,” you said, your voice having an obvious, cheesy tone. “Because I feel the same way.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened, considering how he was preparing himself for the worst. “Wait… you do?”

You nodded, recognizing how the truth was coming out easily now. “I always thought it was obvious.”

Jaehyun’s lips parted slightly as if he were searching for something to say, but he simply looked at you, his words being taken over with a grin on his face. His gaze softened while he stopped fidgeting with his hoodie, feeling a rush of relief running through him. 

“I was scared that this would have made things weird between us. But hearing you say that..." He exalted, as though he could finally breathe easier. “It’s everything I could wish for.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, considering how you were never quite sure if you’d ever get to hear those words from him if you didn’t show up to answer his call. The way your feet kicked back and forth was the subtle sign of nerves and excitement that had your pulse quickening. 

“Me too.” 

“I’m glad,” he said, his voice soft but sincere. “I really am.” He leaned back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. It was strange, yet comforting, knowing that the feelings between you were mutual.

For once, everything felt right again.

“Well then, how about we have an impromptu date right now?” Jaehyun suggested, his nervous look soon turning into something more playful. This was the Jaehyun you were always used to. 

“Oh, so now you’re asking to take me out on a date after I just also practically confessed my feelings?” you shot him a look, only for you to end up breaking into a small fit of laughter. “Very smooth, Cupid MJ.” 

“It’s only fair that I get to ask you out,” he shrugged, wearing a teasing grin. “Had to beat you to it before you were going to ask me out on a hangout again.”

“Alright then, where would we go?”

“To yours? Actually, I’ve been meaning to add a few prints to your kitchen area. It was looking a little plain, and I should’ve gotten you more prints before.”

“Shading my living space after suggesting we go there is crazy, by the way,” you crossed your arms, jokingly staring at him in disbelief. 

Jaehyun let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "You know I didn’t mean it like that."

"If not, then what?" you teased, still shaking your head. "I think you’re just trying to crash into my place, huh?"

He raised his hands in mock surrender, his expression innocent yet mischievous. "Far from that—I just want to see those clay figures you’ve got if you still have them. I’ve been curious."

Another soft laugh escapes from your lips, and the warmth in your chest spreads further. “Come see it then,” you said, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them. Honestly, you were waiting for the next time he’d suggest going to your place. You wanted him to come over again. “I’ll show you that I kept my word on keeping our figures.”

Jaehyun’s smile widened, his eyes lighting up as if your invitation was exactly what he’d hoped for. “Lead the way,” he said, following right after you as you stood up to walk back into your apartment complex—this time, with him by your side. 

The conversation between you two flowed easily, like it always had, and with every exchanged word and giggle, Jaehyun found himself being able to learn a few things.

One, that the Cupid Rules were never as severe or strict as he once believed. Fate had its own way of working, and despite all the supposed boundaries and obstacles, it had led him right back to you—the very person he once thought the Cupid Universe forcefully separated him from. 

Two, he had been so fooled to be convinced that removing the love arrow effects would help erase the emotions entangled between you both. Instead, he was right back here with you. And this time, there was nothing to blame, no external force to credit for his sudden rush of emotions—just the undeniable truth that, even without all of that, he still would have chosen you anyway. He couldn’t complain, not when this was exactly where he wanted to be. 

And three—the one thing he could fully believe about the Cupid’s Handbook was Rule #10. 

Once a client, always your client. 

Jaehyun could only hope those words were true. That no matter where life led you both, no matter what ended up being in the way, he could always find a way to stay by your side for good. 

That’s when he knew that being only with you was the only thing he wanted. 

His first, true love. 

𓊆 🗯️ 𓊇 CUPID’S FINAL WORDS ✶ TYSM FOR READING UNTIL THE END ^^ !! this feels so bittersweet completing like actually… 💔 so… if i were to write for more cupid aus, would you guys like that?? since i do have some ideas but not for all members yet so…. please let me know ♡

BND PERM TAGLIST ( OPEN ) — @juyeoz @j4d @itsactuallylina @rizzwoos @htaesan @macapunoz

[storiesoflilies]

warnings: angst, violence, death.

you’ve known toji for a long time.

longer than most people could say they’ve known another person. ever since you both had cheeks still big and swollen with innocence and milk – though, you remember toji lost his much quicker than you did. ever since you were both young enough to understand that there was something fundamentally wrong inside you. something that wrapped around your soul and ribs like rusting iron, squeezing, squeezing, and squeezing until there was nothing left but a hollow shell of what used to be a person.

you both weren’t like the others.

you couldn’t see the things they could, or do the things they did. when you were scratched and bit and left bleeding by things you couldn’t see, they all laughed at you. you both still didn’t understand what it was exactly you were missing, but you knew that something else was in its place. you were there when toji threw a punch so hard it crushed bone. and he was there when you moved faster than a person could blink.

and you were there the day toji got that scar on his lip.

when he finally explained it all to you through blood-stained teeth, a lone tear dragging down the expanse of his cheek, you never said a word as you patched up his wounds.

like you always did.

toji didn’t need to ask you a thing the day he appeared on your doorstep when you were sixteen, with no tattered rucksack slung over his shoulder because he had nothing to his name. you knew why, because you both were one and the same. that heavy ball and chain had been wrapped around you both since you were born, dragging at your heels and splitting your wrists, and you’d always know him.

leaving it all behind was easy.

you never looked back once.

but the anger living inside the two of you was an unquenchable, undying thing. it savagely clawed at your insides from the spaces in between your ribs, begging you to just release it. to let it break and bend those that had hurt you first. your mind couldn’t quite uphold the weight of the power that was your hands and body. there were so many times you woke up in the middle of the night and you felt like nothing more than a bag of blood and meat, and it made you want to cry.

and toji would just look at you.

because he never slept, not properly anyway. he’d be sitting there beside you, a knife dancing over his index finger, swooping down the valley of his palm and across his ring finger. you wondered if he was making his mind up whether you were strong enough for this. it scared you, really. the moon hung above you, and all you could see was the emptiness in his eyes. perhaps, if he cared, he would have put a hand on your shoulder and tell you that he understood your pain, that it was going to be okay, and that you weren’t alone.

but he didn’t.

he never did.

the only thing toji ever did for you was force you to fight him. you didn’t know if it was because you were the only one he could ask, or because it was because you were the only one who could put up a real fight. whatever it was, it made you stronger – faster than you ever thought possible. you’d go at it for hours, your knuckles throbbing and gums bleeding from how hard you clenched your teeth.

he never held back, not a bit.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t live for this.

because you fought like gods. ordinary people couldn’t comprehend what it was they saw when the two of you collided again and again and again. it was a dance, you see. rain lashing against the wind, the sea breaking against the cliffs at the edge of the world. a heartbeat against a ribcage.

his old knife at your throat.

your dirty fingernails pressing gently into his.

a shuddering exhale from him, like the air was too cold for his lungs. his knife would drop, clattering to the floor like an icy shard against a frozen lake.

resonating, all consuming.

you knew you loved him. how could you not? toji zenin was your sun. a brilliant, green sun, and you the deep, lonely earth destined to orbit around him. always chasing him, but never quite touching him. he was smoke slipping through your fingers, and you were fine with that. loving him was natural, like the water in your veins, the calcium in your bones. fluid, yet ever solidly present. wherever toji moves, you do to, flowing around him to the shape of whatever he wanted you to be.

and this thing inside you could either eat you both alive, or you could use it. for power or money or good. what did it matter? it was only a thing.

toji used his for money.

and yours?

yours followed toji, and it always would. so, you became a killer just like him.

in a way, it was cathartic. you ended the sorcerers who once thought they were better than you. one after the other, they fell, dominos tipping over, tumbling toward the edge of the table. they always begged, their faces smothered in snot and tears, the overwhelming smell of shit in the air.

neither of you cared to listen.

the both of you could have ended the world together if you wanted to. set it all on fire and taste the ashes spreading on your tongue like honey.

you’d said that to toji once, and he cracked a smile.

you felt like he was proud of you in those moments. for not letting yourself be eaten by what lived inside you. you let yourself believe that he might love you too in those moments. when his eyes softened into something like gold. a little warmer, a little more malleable to you. and maybe he could be yours the same way that you were his.

then he met her.

her.

a woman carved straight from the rib he broke the day he got the scar on his lip.

he left all the money and the killings. the barely furnished apartment – the only thing that had your names together on it. a home that obviously has never been a home to toji. all his clothes, old leather wallet stuffed with failed betting tickets and loose change, like the remnants of a man who never meant to stay in the first place.

and you.

you stood there in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the mug half filled with water – the same one he’d only used this morning – and all you could think about was the affliction inside you, writhing like a worm in your intestines.

a heavenly restriction.

heavenly?

you did not feel heavenly, nothing like an angel. angels did not have searing mercury running through their veins, or a hatred so hot it burned you from the inside out. you went to the sea and screamed at the heavens to break your chains.

they didn’t.

because you were more than an angel, something more like them.

and you remained a fallen god, their most beautiful, broken disgrace.

you followed her sometimes. trailing behind her as she shopped for groceries. watching as she delicately places peaches and mushrooms into her basket, two steaks and a carton of eggs. your mouth would sour, bile rising to the back of your throat, and you tasted salt on your cracked lips.

what was so special about her?

she was so… ordinary.

slow and uncoordinated and nothing like you. she tripped a little over her own feet, giggling sweetly at her own mishap. and you stood there judging her for it, still as marble. you, a lethal machine made of fluid metal, forged from the steel that toji had made you from.

your finger twitched on the handle of the gun in your pocket.

you could do it now.

you could pull the trigger, plant a bullet with your name on it right through the space in between her eyes, and be gone before her brain splattered all over those perfectly pink peaches on the fruit stand. you wanted to. oh god, you really wanted to.

but you couldn’t.

toji was hers now, in body and name, and that was his choice. you never once crucified him for what he had done in his life, and only ever following the script of the religion the two of you had made.

why would you start now?

you turned, leaving the dry, cool air of the grocery store behind as you slipped through the sea of people outside.

you never saw her again.

but you saw toji.

you hadn���t expected to. he was just standing there in your apartment, looking around at the things you hadn’t changed since he left, a baby on his hip staring at you with the same green wildfire in his eyes as toji. you didn’t ask what happened, and you didn’t care to know. but you knew she must have died, because there was no other reason why he would have come back.

the two of you couldn’t slip into the same pattern as you did before. you couldn’t, it just wasn’t the same. there were arms of marble wrapped around your body, cradling you in a cold embrace, and you buried yourself in it. toji didn’t care about your silence. he didn’t care about anything anymore, except perhaps money. it flowed like water through his spread fingers, because he never even thought all that much about holding onto it.

not for you, not for megumi.

you’d raise a questioning brow at him whenever he asked you to come to pachinko parlors, like nothing at change, pointedly glancing at his son sleeping quietly on your futon.

toji only scoffed and left anyway.

that was one of the last times you ever saw him.

one day, you came back to an empty apartment again. toji had taken megumi with him, and you didn’t think much of it. he was practically a ghost, he would only come back if he wanted to. for the most part, you didn’t care if he did. but there was a small part of you, one that you tried to ignore, that told you it was different this time.

a few years later, you found a man standing outside the door of your apartment.

he said his name was shiu kong, and that toji had told him to come here. when you asked why, he’d only motioned for you to follow him to his car. and there was megumi sitting inside, a little older, bigger, and so much more like toji. there was a baby sleeping next to him, a girl swaddled in baby pink blankets.

shiu shrugged helplessly, sighing as he lit up a cigarette, before opening the backseat door.

“he said you’d take them,” he muttered, taking another long, slow drag from his cigarette. “said you’re the only person who can look after them.”

toji had never once given you softness. he never promised you love or patience. he never gave any part of himself to you. but this? maybe this was his way of finally saying something to you after all this time. he could never give himself to you, but as you looked at the two precious blessings sitting in the back seat, you knew that he was giving you something.

you tended to those two kids with quiet diligence, slipping into a domestic rhythm with them that was oddly comforting. you made sure they ate, bathed, and slept properly. it was important to you that you were a steady presence in their lives, and even when the silence stretched on, you made sure that it was never lonely or cold. you watched them not out of obligation, but from something real and good inside you. it kept you tethered to toji, even if he never called or visited once.

you like to think you felt something the day he died.

that you felt the chains around your wrists shatter like glass, and that you felt the thing chained around your ribcage loosen for the first time. you gasped as your lungs pulled in a sweet, fresh inhale of air you never imagined could feel so clean.

you cried like never before, and you haven’t since.

megumi told you a strange boy with white hair had visited him the morning after, saying something odd about working hard and getting stronger. you clenched your fists at that. megumi didn’t need to be stronger. he didn’t need to be anything other than who he was, because he had you to be strong for him. you’d take the blows for him, bleed to death for him and tsumiki if you needed to, would rage a war for them.

you’d only be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t love them just as much as you had loved toji.

so, you went with megumi to that school for sorcerers when he was older. the higher ups had tried to keep you out, but it was that strange boy – satoru gojo – who convinced them to let you stay.

megumi was so quiet those first few months, kept to himself mostly, and you wondered if that was because of you. it wasn’t from his mother; she’d been full of life, nothing at all like you. he’d never once called you his mother, he knew you never were to begin with and you never tried to pretend otherwise. still, he was like you, with the face of his father staring back at you.

sometimes, you had to look away.

but megumi was also good. he pretended not to care about things, but he really did. it was in the way he fought alongside his classmates, in the way he knew to hold your hand when you woke up in a sweat haze, plagued by the screams and the locusts and oceans of blood in your dreams. it was in the way he dried your tears with his hand, wiping away the sweat on your forehead with the edge of his sleeve, before he crawled back into his futon.

through him, you became something better – a person who actually deserved to live.

the day megumi told you that something big was happening in shibuya, you didn’t question him at all. you just strapped your old weapons to your back and agreed to go with him.

and you saw him again.

toji.

but it wasn’t him.

his eyes were black, pupils barely visible. a washed-out white cotton sweater hung off him like a blanket of death. you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. he had a grin on his face, wolfish and unsettling, and you knew he was out to draw blood. his fangs bared at megumi, and you knew that it would be either you or his son that died that day. you pushed megumi away, letting toji grab you and throw both of you out of the window.

and so, you met one last time.

the final, greatest battle between two old gods.

but you didn’t fight like gods this time. there was no glory, no grace. it was jagged and brutal, repeated collisions of bodies that had forgotten how to move together. you thought you might remember the steps to this dance. but you didn’t, not as well as you thought. maybe because you were older, just a little slower, or because everything was different this time.

this wasn’t toji.

his body was written in a language you couldn’t read – something ancient and dead, lost in a world you were never once apart of.

there was a ringing in your ears, like rain drums.

the gods are calling me home.

toji’s fist slammed into your ribs, and you heard a deep crack in the once perfect marble of your body. your vision blurred at the edges, your eyes watering and reacting to the pain before you did.

“fuck you,” you snapped, your fingernails tearing at his cheeks and lips. “i won’t cry for you anymore.”

he didn’t answer.

his breath rattled in his ribs, his body sagging on top of you. you stared into his eyes, black as a void, empty as death.

and then you saw it.

a flicker of something familiar. a spark of a chained god you once knew. was that sorrow you saw, or regret? perhaps, once upon a time, you and toji could have been someone else. that you both could have lived differently, been more than broken pawns doomed to die, whether it was now or in a hundred years. a sadness for the indisputable truth that you both knew that this was the only possible way it could have all ended.

in the end, you were grateful that you had known toji fushiguro.

©storiesoflilies 2025, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[yuurei20]

Do you have information about Ramshackle dorm itself? Whether it be a character's opinions on it, or any history/lore from Crowley along the way through the main story/events? I know we don't know a lot about the dorm itself (I think that's intentional, as to leave interpretation up to the player), but combing through the whole story for lore has been difficult for me. Thank you in advance for your efforts and time. :>

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 🏚

You are very right that we do not seem to have very much information about Ramshackle Dorm!

For characters' opinions we know that Malleus is fond of it (he likes abandoned ruins in general (more here ->)), and Crowley is maybe more ambivalent? He has a dialogue line referring to it as a "dilapidated old--" and then self-corrects to say, "historic building."

As for why it was abandoned, the ghosts who live there say that everyone got scared of them and ran away, which Crowley confirms.

This is a curious explanation as ghosts are regular staff members at the school with none of the students seeming frightened of them--if anything, the chef ghosts are more afraid of Lilia than any of the students are of them.

While searching for information that may have been missed, I found this fascinating theory from 2020 that Yen Sid from Fantasia could be the founder of NRC as the counterpart to Merlin (who may have inspired RSA’s Ambrose) and possibly the person who appointed Crowley as headmage.

The video creator guesses that Ramshackle is even older than Pomefiore (otherwise confirmed as the oldest dorm) as it was built alongside the school itself rather than being established in a pocket dimension like the other dorms.

As acknowledged in vol. 1 of the Official Fanbook, Ramshackle has taken a lot of inspiration from the 1936 Mickey Mouse animation “Thru the Mirror.”

And Snow White, the basis for Pomefiore? Was released a year later in 1937 👀

We have a comment from Trey that the dorms were constructed in order of Pomefiore -> Heartslabyul -> Diasomnia (which corresponds to those movies' years of release), but no mention of Ramshackle 📝

(Maybe irrelevant, but the Japanese-language title of the “Thru the Mirror” animation is 「ミッキーの夢物語」, which means close to “The Story of Mickey’s Dream.”)

But if Yen Sid is the founder of the school, wouldn't he have a statue or something? And was he not particularly villainous? And why is Ramshackle not treated with more respect by Crowley, at least, who is presumably the one person who knows what it used to be?

To explain this the creator of the video above suggests that maybe NRC was not always a villain school: at some point there was maybe a shift of power from Yen Sid to someone else, who decided to go in a different direction.

This included a renovation that removed things from its previous incarnation like references to Yen Sid and abandoning Ramshackle as a relic of what the school once was.

We know that Azul looked through the past 100 years of exam questions in Book 3, the same amount of time that NRC’s student selection process has been in use, the same amount of time that NRC has been losing all competitions to RSA, the same time that STYX was established…what exactly happened 100 years ago? 👀

A ghost mentions being the captain of a spelldrive team back when he was still alive 90 years in the past, so at least one of Ramshackle's ghosts moved in after whatever that event was.

The video creator proposes that that is when the school shifted its focus to the powers of darkness, only admitting students with those particular traits and no longer accepting students who would have been sorted into Ramshackle Dorm.

They ask, is it possible that the prefect is someone who would have been sorted into Ramshackle like the students of the past if the school had not shifted gears? Is the prefect actually where they are supposed to be, just 100 years too late? 📝

Whatever it is that happened 100 years ago, whatever secret it is about Crowley that Azul may or may not hold—the video creator guesses that Ramshackle Dorm is the key!

We just do not know the key to what 🔑

[memoiresofaneternaldreamer]

Gilded Cage

Pairing: The High Priestess! Hyunjin x Billionaire’s Daughter! Reader

Themes: Smut | Strangers to ? | Crime Syndicate AU

Wordcount: 4.9K

Playlist: ‘Venus In Furs’ - Ängie

Smut Warnings: Explicit sexual acts - Use of a blindfold - Feather play - Oral (F. Receiving) - Slight sensory deprivation - Pleasure dom! Hyunjin - Use of pet names - Praising - Slight submission (F. giving)

This story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors do not interact.

Previous chapter: Drive-By - The Fool

The world is your playground.

Or at least, that’s what your father says when he drapes another diamond necklace around your neck or hands you the keys to yet another car you don’t need. Being the only daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the country has its perks—your wardrobe is worth more than some people’s homes, your vacations are always on private islands, and your life is a carefully curated dream. But beneath the luxury, beneath the silk and gold, there is something you would never admit to anyone.

You are bored.

Painfully, excruciatingly bored.

Your father keeps you in a cage—gilded, beautiful, but a cage nonetheless. Every move you make is monitored, every outing meticulously planned, and every interaction carefully screened. He says it’s for your safety, that the world is too dangerous for someone as delicate as you. And, to be fair, you don’t exactly fight him on it. Most days, you let yourself be entertained by whatever new, expensive distraction he throws your way.

But today, something has changed.

You’re in one of the most exclusive shopping malls in the city, sipping on a lavender-infused matcha latte while your personal assistant carries your designer bags. A hushed conversation catches your attention as you browse through racks of couture you don’t need.

Two women—elegantly dressed, just the right mix of old money and scandal—stand by the jewellery counter, their voices low and intrigued.

“Did you hear? The next one is happening soon. Invitation-only, of course.”

“I heard the last one had a snow leopard. Can you believe it? A real one.”

Your ears perk up. A snow leopard? Your curiosity is immediately piqued.

“It’s all so thrilling,” one of them sighs. “The kind of place where only the right people get in.”

Your fingers tighten around your drink. You are the right people. More than that—you are the people.

The moment they walk away, you turn to your assistant.

“Find out where that auction is,” you instruct. “Now.”

That night, you sit across from your father at the grand dining table, the chandeliers above you reflecting off the polished marble floors. A team of chefs has just served a meal you barely touch, your mind preoccupied with the plan forming in your head.

“Papa,” you say sweetly, swirling your wine. “I want to go to an auction.”

Your father looks up from his plate, intrigued but unsurprised. “An auction? What kind?”

You flash him a practised, innocent smile. “An exclusive one. Downtown. They’re auctioning off rare artefacts, and there’s a necklace I’ve been dying to get my hands on. A princess’s necklace.”

His expression softens, and just like that, you know you have him. Your father loves indulging you, and he loves history almost as much as he loves keeping you happy.

“I don’t see why not,” he says after a moment, nodding. “But you’ll take security with you.”

You sigh, pretending to be annoyed. “Of course, Papa.”

The plan is in motion.

The auction is at the far edge of town, in a place so inconspicuous that, for a brief moment, you hesitate. For all you know, this could be an elaborate trap. But the thrill of the unknown is too tempting, so you push forward, your lime green Shelby Mustang purring as you pull up to the entrance.

A single man stands at the door—a bouncer, thick and unyielding.

“Name?” he asks, looking down at a clipboard. You confidently give it to him, expecting the doors to swing open. He checks. Then checks again. Then looks back at you.

“You’re not on the list.”

Your smile doesn’t falter. “That can’t be right.”

“I don’t make mistakes.”

You shift your weight, tilting your head. “Do you know who my father is?” The bouncer remains unmoved. “This is a private event.” Annoyance bubbles in your chest. This never happens to you. You always get in.

You try again, pushing, persuading, letting hints of your father’s influence slip between your words. But it’s no use.

With a huff of frustration, you turn on your heel, ready to storm off in dramatic defeat—

And then the door opens.

And he walks out.

At first, you don’t register anything except presence. The kind that commands attention without even trying. Then, the details follow—high-end fashion that drapes like it was made for him, layers of gold jewellery catching the dim light, a fur coat thrown over his shoulders like an afterthought.

But it’s the face that makes you stop.

He is beautiful in a way that feels almost unfair—graceful yet masculine, soft yet sharp. Dark eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long, long time, you feel entirely out of your depth.

His lips curve into an effortless smile, and when he finally speaks, his voice is like velvet. “Well, well,” he murmurs. “Who do we have here?” Your throat dries, but you don’t let it show.

He steps closer, the scent of expensive cologne lingering in the space between you. Then, with a slow, practised elegance, he takes your hand—his touch light, deliberate—and brushes his lips against your skin.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says, lifting his gaze. “My name is Hyunjin.”

Your heartbeat stutters.

You don’t blush. You never blush.

But you do now.

Hyunjin’s smile deepens as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “I must say,” he continues smoothly, still holding your hand, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Then, without looking at the bouncer, he gives a simple nod.

“She’s with me.”

And just like that, the doors open.

The moment the doors shut behind you, the world changes.

Gone is the cold, industrial exterior of the building. In its place, dimly lit corridors stretch before you, the air thick with the scent of expensive cigars and something more elusive—power. The floors beneath your heels are marble, the kind that doesn’t just exist to be walked on but to announce wealth. You glance at Hyunjin, his expression unreadable, and follow him deeper into the labyrinthine hallways.

Hyunjin doesn’t speak, but you feel the weight of his presence. His every movement is deliberate, controlled—graceful in a way that feels almost practised. You wonder if he was born like this or sculpted into the man he is now, refined like a perfectly cut diamond.

Before you can say more, he stops in front of a set of grand double doors. They are obsidian black, carved with intricate gold detailing—regal, imposing. He places a hand against one and pushes.

Beyond them, the world comes alive.

A breathtaking display of wealth and secrecy unfolds before you. The room is vast, the ceilings high, adorned with golden chandeliers that cast a sultry, amber glow over the opulent setting. Rich mahogany and velvet dominate the decor, the air buzzing with hushed conversations and soft laughter, the kind only the truly powerful possess—the type that speaks of invulnerability.

It’s intoxicating.

Your gaze sweeps over the room, taking in the sheer decadence of it all. These aren’t just rich people. These are the elite. The ones who don’t just buy luxury—they own it. You recognise some of them—captains of industry, heirs to ancient fortunes, politicians whose faces grace magazine covers. But there are others, too, ones who remain nameless but equally dangerous, exuding an aura of control that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end.

Hyunjin leans in, his breath warm against your skin as he gestures discreetly.“See the man in the navy suit by the bar? Oil tycoon. No country owns him, yet he owns half the world. And the woman in emerald green? Former royalty. Loves her diamonds, hates her family.”

His gaze sweeps the room, pointing out kings without crowns and monsters in silk. You drink in this untouchable, untamed luxury, and it fuels something inside you.

Hyunjin guides you to an elevated space near the front, a private alcove with plush seating and an uninterrupted view of the stage. A waiter approaches instantly, offering crystal flutes of champagne. You take one, savouring the way the bubbles tingle against your lips.

The auction begins.

It starts slow, calculated. The first animals brought out are rare but not shocking—exotic serpents, small creatures from faraway lands. The bidding is fierce, millions exchanged with nothing more than a subtle nod or the lift of a hand.

Hyunjin watches you, his expression unreadable. “Fascinating, isn’t it?”

You nod, unable to deny it. “The money… It’s insane.”

“It’s not about money,” he corrects smoothly. “It’s about power. Ownership.”

You gulp at his words, nodding as your mind drifts at the implications.

Then come the true prizes.

A magnificent Amur leopard, its coat like liquid gold under the spotlight; a Siberian tiger, its piercing eyes scanning the crowd with quiet defiance; African wild dogs, black-footed ferrets; and an addax whose curved horns could belong to a myth. The crowd leans forward with anticipation, voices sharpening as the stakes rise.

You are mesmerised. Not just by the spectacle, but by the people surrounding you here. These people don’t care about rules. They buy what they want. Own what they want. They are free.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until the birds are brought out.

The Red-fronted macaw is dazzling, the Kākāpō rare and heavy with legend. But it’s the fruit dove that steals your breath.

It is smaller than the others, delicate and impossibly vibrant, its feathers painted in hues of emerald and coral, nature’s own masterpiece. It looks utterly out of place in this world of predators. And yet, there’s something captivating about it.

You barely notice the way Hyunjin is watching you.

“You like it,” he observes, voice smooth, knowing.

You nod, barely looking at him. The bird is mesmerising.

“Then bid.”

Your eyes flick to him, but he is already watching you, something unreadable in his gaze.

“It’s rare,” he continues, tilting his head slightly. “Much is still to be learned about them. Many species are shy, difficult to observe in their natural habitat. They are not hunted for food, and yet…” His gaze drops, a fire within them that sets your skin alight.

“They are still coveted. A prized possession.”

You hear the words, but it is the way he says them that makes your breath hitch. The way his gaze rakes over your form, slow and deliberate. The way his voice lowers, rich with a meaning that has nothing to do with the bird at all.

You swallow. Hard.

“Bid.”

So you do.

The game begins, and at first, it is easy. A simple back-and-forth with another bidder.

But then— A woman’s voice. Sharp. Confident. Challenging.

You glance toward the source and immediately understand.

She is stunning, older, with an air of authority that suggests she is used to winning. But more than that, how she looks at Hyunjin—possessive, knowing—makes it clear.

She wants to win. Not just the bird.

The moment you realise this, a spark of something hot and reckless ignites in you. Your fingers tighten around the paddle. Not tonight.

You raise the bid. She counters. You go higher. The tension thickens. The numbers rise.

Four hundred thousand.

Four hundred and fifty.

Five hundred.

The woman hesitates. You see it in her expression. Hyunjin leans in, his lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear, “Don’t stop now.” You inhale sharply.

“Five hundred seventy-five thousand.”

Silence.

The gavel comes down. Sold.

You exhale, your pulse racing, but before you can bask in your victory, Hyunjin leans in. His lips brush the shell of your ear again as he whispers, “Good girl.”

A shiver runs down your spine.

The auction moves on, but you barely hear it. Not when his words still linger in your mind, setting every nerve in your body alight. And then, just as you take another sip of champagne, Hyunjin extends a hand once more. “Come,” he says, eyes gleaming. “Let’s finalize your purchase.” He leads you towards the back rooms, away from the crowd, away from prying eyes.

And something in the air tells you that whatever awaits you behind the darkness is far more dangerous than anything you’ve seen tonight.

You follow Hyunjin without question, still high from the rush of winning the bid, from the weight of his presence at your side, from the way he had whispered good girl in your ear like it was something sacred, from the taste of freedom you feel at finally doing what you want.

As you weave through the corridors, the sounds of the auction fading into the distance, a voice—her voice—cuts through the air.

“Hyunjin.”

You slow, glancing back. The woman from the bidding war stands in your path, her delicate fingers brushing against his sleeve in a way that is anything but innocent. She tilts her head, a sly smile curving her lips, but her eyes are sharp, assessing. “Leaving so soon? I was hoping we could… catch up.”

Hyunjin doesn’t even hesitate.

“Not tonight.” His tone is smooth, effortless, yet absolute. He doesn’t turn to face her, doesn’t spare her another glance. Instead, his hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you forward.

The rejection is brutal in its indifference.

You don’t look back. Not right away. But after a few steps, curiosity tugs at you, and you steal a glance over your shoulder.

 The woman’s smile is gone. She watches you with barely concealed disdain, her lips pressed into a thin, furious line. A slow, victorious smirk tugs at your own lips. She sees it. And it only makes her scowl deepen.

Hyunjin leads you through another door, and suddenly, you’re in a different world.

The room is exquisite—dark, sleek, littered with gold and fur. It is extravagant, opulent. Just like him.

Everything from the black marble floors to the velvet drapes screams power. A large desk sits at the centre, its surface polished and pristine, illuminated by the soft glow of an expensive-looking desk lamp. Behind it, shelves house rare artefacts, books that likely hold more secrets than stories, and bottles of aged liquor with labels in languages you can’t read.

At the centre of it all, a large black velvet couch sits like a throne.

You take it all in, slowly circling the room. “This is an office?” Hyunjin’s voice is smooth somewhere behind you. “Would you prefer something more… ordinary?” You glance at the velvet couch, running your fingers over the fabric. “No. This suits you.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Your heels echo softly as you step toward the desk, where Hyunjin is flipping through the paperwork, his golden rings catching the light. He slides the documents toward you, handing you a pen.

“Just a signature,” he murmurs. “And your payment, of course.”

You take the pen, its weight surprisingly heavy, and sign where he indicates before reaching into your purse. Your fingers find your chequebook, and you lay it flat on the desk, leaning over to fill it in.

The room is so quiet you can hear the soft scratch of your pen against the paper.

And then, a shift.

The slightest change in the air, a whisper of movement behind you. At first, you don’t register it. You’re too focused, too caught up in the ritual of payment, in the finalization of your victory. But then—heat.

A presence, pressing against your back.

Before you can turn, before you can speak—Dark silk blinds your vision.

Your entire world is cast into black.

Panic surges. Your body tenses, your pulse hammering wildly against your ribs. “What the hell is going on?” Your voice is sharp, edged with fear. “Hyunjin—!”

His hands are on your hips in an instant, grounding you. He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice low, soothing.

“Hush now, little dove.”

You shudder, your panic mixing with something else.

“You have been in a cage for far too long,” he murmurs, his fingers pressing firmly into your waist, his warmth melting into you. “It is time I set you free.”

Then—his lips. A slow, deliberate kiss against your neck.

Your lashes flutter beneath the blindfold, your senses heightening in the absence of sight. You can’t see him, but you feel him—everywhere. The warmth of his breath, the teasing press of his mouth, the strength of his hands holding you still.

“Will you let me?”

It is a question, and yet it isn’t.

The control is still yours, and that realization sends a different kind of shiver through you. You don’t speak—your voice has abandoned you. But the minuscule nod you give is enough.

Hyunjin’s lips curve into a smile against your pulse. His hands leave your waist, only for one of them to take yours, guiding you away from the desk. You follow blindly—literally—feeling the shift beneath your heels, the soft give of something plush against the back of your knees before he eases you down.

The couch. He has settled you onto the black velvet couch.

His touch disappears.

The absence of it is maddening. Your heart pounds against your ribs, your fingers flexing against the fabric as you try to sense where he has gone.

And then—A whisper of sensation against your arm.

Not fingers. Not skin. Softer. Lighter. Barely there.

A feather.

It drags down the length of your arm, trailing like a whisper over your wrist, up toward your shoulder. A pause. Then, lower—brushing against your collarbone, ghosting along the curve of your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

Your breath shudders out of you, and your lips part.

Hyunjin moves in silence, unseen but everywhere. The feather traces down your throat, over the fabric of your dress, dipping lower, teasing but never quite giving.

It is torturous.

And you have never wanted anything more. Your body feels strung too tight, your breath uneven, every sense heightened in the dark. The feather glides over your stomach, your thighs, pausing just short of where you ache to be touched.

Then—his voice. Soft, but commanding. “Open your legs.”

Your breath catches, but your body obeys before your mind can catch up.

You part your thighs.

You hear nothing—see nothing—but every nerve in your body is awake, thrumming, stretched taut like a violin string. The feather moves again, a whisper of sensation against your parted thighs.

You exhale shakily in anticipation, readying your body (and mind) for what is to come, and then—

It drifts lower. What?

The softest, most excruciating caress against the inside of your knee. It lingers there, teasing, before gliding downward, following the gentle slope of your leg.

You let out a soft whine, the sound escaping before you can stop it. Hyunjin chuckles, a low, indulgent hum that vibrates through the air. His voice is warm, teasing, like liquid gold spilling into your ear.

“Be patient, little dove.”

Your breath stutters. Patient? You are beyond patient. You are aching. Burning.

But he is in no hurry.

Your fingers twitch against the velvet couch, the fabric burning hot beneath your touch as the feather travels further—down, down, over the bare skin of your calf, brushing the sharp curve of your ankle. And then—your foot.

You gasp as the feather flutters over the sensitive arch, the unexpected sensation making your muscles jerk in response. Hyunjin hums in amusement. “So sensitive,” he murmurs, and though you cannot see him, you can hear the smile in his voice.

He takes his time, mapping the contours of your foot with slow, agonizing strokes—gliding along the curve of your arch, teasing the tips of your toes, circling back to skim over your ankle once more. It is a form of torment you never knew existed, this unbearable, feather-light pleasure that leaves you trembling, aching, your breath shuddering past your lips.

You make a small, involuntary noise when the feather finally begins its ascent again.

It trails back up your calf, slower this time, deliberately drawing out the moment. The sensation coils deep within you, tightening with each passing second, your skin hypersensitive, your body hyperaware, your underwear soaked, your pussy clenched.

It glides over the inside of your knee once more—then higher.

Your thighs tense as the feather sweeps along the sensitive flesh, tracing intricate, meaningless patterns that set your skin aflame. You shift, unable to stop yourself, but Hyunjin does not let up.

Instead, he continues his merciless game, the feather dancing along the curve of your thigh, drifting from one leg to the other, back and forth.

Your breath stutters. You’re trembling now, your body betraying you, responding to the teasing touch with increasing desperation. You can feel how close he is, the warmth of his presence, the weight of his gaze.

And then—finally—The feather reaches your cunt.

A sharp, wanton gasp escapes you when the feather softly grazes over your pulsing clit, your fingers tightening into fists against the couch. Hyunjin exhales slowly, like he’s savouring the sound.

The feather lingers there, tracing slow, deliberate strokes over the engorged nub, never quite giving you the pressure you crave. It brushes, flickers, teases, sending jolts of pleasure shooting up your nerves. Your hips twitch, your breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, and yet—he does not give in.

Not yet.

You shift again, desperate, seeking more friction. Something. Anything. To relieve this building ache in core.

And then, just when you think you might lose yourself completely to this torture, Hyunjin’s voice breaks the silence. Soft. Amused. Knowing. “What is it you want, little dove?”

You have never begged for anything in your life. Not once. But for him? For this?

“Hyunjin…please.”

Your voice is raw, breaking over his name. But he doesn’t move.

You can feel him, so close yet so infuriatingly still, his presence a smouldering heat between your thighs. You shift, parting them further, seeking more friction.

“Please, Hyunjin… I need you. Your fingers, your mouth, anything…Please.”

Hyunjin hums, pleased, his voice rich with amusement. “Look at you.”

Finally his fingers glide over your thighs, warm, firm, stroking in slow, deliberate circles, and you feel as if you might cry.

“You were so put together when you walked in here. So sure of yourself. And now…” His touch tightens, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. “Now you’re begging me.” A shiver rolls down your spine.

“Say it again,” he murmurs. “Beg me properly, little dove.”

You swallow, your head falling back against the couch. The words spill from you before you can stop them. Before you can even think.

“Please, Hyunjin, please—I need you. I need you to touch me.” Your breath hitches, your voice trembling. “I need your mouth on me. Please.”

There’s a sharp inhale above you. Then—warm hands, strong and unyielding, gripping your thighs. “That’s it,” Hyunjin purrs. “That’s my good girl.”

He pulls you forward effortlessly, dragging you to the very edge of the couch, spreading you wide for him. Your shoulders hit the backrest, your body melting into his touch as a quiet, needy whimper escapes you.

“So pretty,” he muses as if admiring his favourite masterpiece. “So perfect for me like this.”

His fingers slide beneath your underwear, slow, teasing, just a brush—just enough to make you choke on a breath, to make you arch into him. “Let’s get these off, hmm?” There’s no waiting, no hesitation. The fabric is gone in seconds, leaving you bare beneath his gaze.

And then—heat. Hyunjin’s mouth finally presses against your cunt.

You moan out at the sensation, his lips softly enveloping your clit and sucking the nub into his mouth. Your sounds only seem to spur him on, and he dives in. He’s not gentle with it, like a man who had been starved for far too long finally getting his first taste of sustenance. He buries his head deeper between your thighs, sucking harder, his tongue and teeth alternating between flicking and nibbling the nub.

“More, Hyunjin…. Please.” You moan out, hips gently rotating against his face, desperate for more friction. More pressure.

He releases your clit with a pop, his lips instead tracing a path down towards your entrance. As his tongue pokes out to gather your juices, another gasp escapes your mouth. A second later, his tongue plunges into your hole, and you buck forward at the intrusion, your hand flying into his dark locks. Hyunjin pulls away, tsking at your behaviour.

His voice is strained, deeper than before, as he grounds out: “Now, now, little dove. Don’t make me clip your wings.”

The gaze that greets yours is dark, feline, and suddenly, you wonder if you might have actually become a bird at the mercy of this predator.

Hyunjin commands softly: “Grab the back of the couch. Don’t let go.” Before diving back in. Even though his head is buried against your cunt again, you still nod your head before doing as you’re told.

You feel his hand sneak its way between your legs as his lips resume their plays around your clit, before he plunges two fingers inside. “Oh fuck…” you groan as his hand picks up the pace, in perfect sync with his mouth. You grind your hips against his face again, careful to keep your hands behind you, and Hyunjin groans out at your brazenness, the vibrations sending another shiver up your spine as they pulse through you.

Hyunjin picks up the pace even more, adding a third finger, curling them inside of you and flattening his tongue to apply more pressure and draw quicker circles on your clit. It’s slightly embarrassing how quickly you reach your peak, the combination of the blindfold still covering your eyes, your senses being dulled, the earlier ministrations of the feather, and Hyunjin’s skilful movements between your legs proving to be too much.

“Oh fuck… I’m coming. Hyunjin. I’m coming.” You have just enough time to scream out as you topple over the edge, your body quivering as your orgasm overtakes you.

Hyunjin pushes you through it: “Yes, little dove. Yes. Come for me, such a good girl you are.” He groans, his fingers still pistoning inside of you. Your juices cover his hand, his lips, but he doesn’t stop. Only when you cry out, sounding a little less pleased and a little more pained, he gently removes himself from you. Delivering a soft kiss to your vulva, a silent praise.

Your body is still humming, the aftershocks of pleasure leaving you weightless, limbs heavy against the velvet couch. The world feels hazy, suspended between reality and something more indulgent, more intoxicating.

Hyunjin rises from the floor, slow and fluid, his presence still a smouldering heat between your thighs. And then—warm hands cradle your face, fingers pressing just enough to ground you before his lips crash against yours.

You moan softly into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue, letting him swallow the sound like a secret. The kiss is deep, unhurried, yet claiming, leaving you dizzy all over again.

And then—he pulls away.

“Stay put.” His voice is smooth, firm, laced with something unreadable. “Don’t take off the blindfold yet.”

You exhale shakily, nodding without question. Your body still belongs to him, your mind too clouded to resist. You listen as he moves—footsteps, the rustle of fabric, the faintest shift in the air.

Then—Nothing. The silence is so thick, so absolute, it coils around you like an invisible tether. You strain your ears, waiting, anticipating. Still—nothing. A minute passes. Then another. Your fingers twitch against the couch, unease flickering beneath the remnants of pleasure.

“Hyunjin?” you whisper. No response. You wet your lips, your throat suddenly dry. “Hyunjin.” Louder now. Still—silence.

A strange chill spreads through your limbs, the absence of sound shifting from anticipation to something else—something wrong. You sit up abruptly, your legs pressing together, your body instinctively curling inward as your fingers move quickly to your face. The blindfold slips away.

Blink. Adjust. Focus.

The dim golden glow of the room sharpens around you, the opulence still intact—the dark, sleek walls, the velvet couch, the furs spilling over the furniture. But Hyunjin is gone. Your chest tightens. Your gaze sweeps the room, searching for movement, a shadow, an open door. Nothing. No lingering warmth. No sign he was even here. Your breath hitches. You reach for your underwear, needing something tangible, something to ground you.

But they’re gone.

Instead, lying beside you is a small folded note. As you pick it up, your fingers tremble slightly, the thick paper cool against your skin. You hesitate, pulse ticking at your throat before you finally unfold it. Neat, elegant handwriting stares back at you.

“Don’t fly too far, little dove. Or I’ll have to catch you again.”

Your breath shudders. Something slips from the note into your palm.

A tarot card.

Matte black, smooth between your fingertips. You turn it over, gold lettering gleaming under the soft glow of the lights.

The High Priestess.

Your grip tightens around it, your mind racing, pulse hammering. You’ve heard whispers before. The Syndicate. A name never spoken too loudly, slipping through the cracks of high society, shadowing the rich and the powerful. You know enough to understand its weight, but not enough to know its reach. A slow chill creeps into your bones, replacing the lingering heat. What does it mean? Why this card? And more importantly—

Did you just sign away your soul to the devil?

A/N: Part two of The Syndicate is here! Still have 6 more members to go, each with their own role and plot within the group. Can you guess who is next on the list? Also, kudos to anyone who noticed the little easter egg at the beginning. 💟

Send me your thoughts - feedback/fangirling is always welcome.

Taglist: @hanjisungs-bitch66 - @smartie-pants

(Collage created by me. Credits to owners of the pictures taken from Pinterest)

[buubonita]

This is too messy but no worries i will try to explain the connections and I ADDED the "its complicated" label because i can and relationships can be and are soooo pretty complicated sometimes and your perspective of that person can always change like the weather,, or in fact, they have a dynamic that is difficult for me to explain personally.

Lets start nyao! oh boy this is LONG.

Nightmare & Dream: its complicated. They have mixed feelings all the time, there are times when they genuinely can't stand each other, but their family love remains intact, only sometimes, living together is difficult. I dont think Nightmare hates Dream genuinely, just for moments, and i am speaking more from someone who haves a twin.

I'm not saying that the situation is the same because my brother and I are not at war, lol, I'm saying that disagreeing and fighting with the person with whom you have shared memories and time since the cradle is a constant.

Dream & Blue & Ink: Found Family & friends. I just like to think that they, rather than a poly like fans insist, function more like an imperfect but still functioning family.

Dream & Ink: Friends/It's complicated. Dream and Ink have mainly disenchanted ideals, but they can coexist without resentment. I think they care about each other.

Ink & Error: enemies/frenemies. Self-explanatory.

Error, Geno & Fresh: family found. I love to think that the three of them have an inexplicable connection, something rooted in their codes. I know that Fresh is an outcode, but the body they posses, I like to think that it is a variant of Aftertale Sans (not Geno, the other Sans) <3

Blue, Sans & Fell: I love the idea my besties proposed that there are TWO Underswap Sans in the multiverse (Blueberry belongs to the Stars and Swap makes up the Sans and Fell group). They are good friends and super hilarious together <33

Reaper & Geno: Secret 3rd thing. I wont explain it here tho.

Fatal Error & Error: they hate each other to death.

Fresh and Lust: Secret 3rd option! I like to think that they actually get along really well. They go to disco nights together on Saturday nights fr.

Horror, Dust & Fell: besties. They can be besties okay, i loveeee the idea of Horror and Fell getting along with Dust as their main bond, point in common. If Fell could help Dust, he maybe could help Horror <33

Killer & Color: besties and QRP. I dont have much to say that someone hasn't already said , they are cute! Super adorable as well :3

Killer, Dust and Horror: Frienemies, its complicated. Their relationship It is quite turbulent and there are moments of horrible tension between them, the atmosphere in which they meet is not very good and does not help either, but they are companions in misfortune who try to move forward. I like to think that I could improve with the help of Color (who I forgot to put in the circle but the board already looks terrible!!!) Anyways MTT + Color is defo my thing <33

Dust & Reaper: Acquaintances. Reaper has seen Dust a lot during his endless encounters with The Player. He keeps tempting him to shake his hand like a new friend, hehe <33

Nightmare & Killer: Its complicated, enemies & secret 3rd thing. I've said it before, Killer and Nightmare's relationship is so weird, at least from my perspective, it has so much potential, so many nuances to explore that it's hard to classify what the hell they are. They don't even know what they are or what they have, they think they know each other but there are always details that escape them. Do they hate each other? Maybe. Do they need each other? Who knows. It's weird. They're fucking weird. And I love it, because Nightmare and Killer don't have the same dynamic or personal history that Nightmare and Horror and Dust do. One of my faves.

Color & Nightmare: Enemies. Its complicated. Rahhhh i have been CRAVING more Nightmare and Color content focused, how troubled Nigtjmare actions can be for Color and how it goes against his morals. Id say Color hates him, not totally, but definitely Nightmare "makes it very difficult to be able to help him" and thats a common point he haves with Dream.

Nightmare & Ccino: its complicated, secret 3rd thing aaand enemies. Ccino hates Nightmare for so many reasons, but the main one is the most wrong and absurd: he abandoned him.

Eldritch entity and totally tired mortal quth mundane life have a connection incomprehensible to the established parameters of society or regulations. My favorite.

Ccino @ everyone: is on the image but i think Ccino would know everyone at least because his café is a multiversal meeting point.

Epic & Cross: besties & QRP. They are so lovey, so cute, so beautiful, i love what they have so much.

Cross & Dream: Secret 3rd thing <33 they are very good friends and... :3c

Epic & Nightmare: Enemies & Acquaintances. Epic only knows about Nightmare through word of mouth, but he doesn't like what little he knows. I think he's secretly very resentful towards people who hurt the ones he loves (Cross, Color).

Epic & Dream: Acquaintances. I like to think that Dream is the only one who has seen Epic lose/destroy his body to the point where only his cursed eye remains intact. Something about out-of-body experiences he has suffered since he is a being of light residing in a vessel.

But in general, Epic does not interact and stays away from the apple twins because of their empathic abilities (an apple a day keeps the doctor...).

And thats it. I have a lot of other ideas that I left out the chart but imma write here hheehehe.

Like the fact that Dust and Epic could be friends (and their relationship is a bit rocky because Epic seems to treat Dust like a patient kjj and how that brings problems, as if Epic wanted to fix something of his own by helping and supporting him in his vocation as a doctor, yadda yadda)

Oooor like, fucking Reaper and the twins. Reaper seeing some of the contempt and rejection he himself suffers in his own universe??? That ALMOST inspires some pity, but I'd say it's more towards poor passive/past Nightmare than anything else.

Reaper and Dream should and are friends. I like the idea that Dream is one of the few who laughs at Reaper's shitty jokes (besides Geno) and feels bad about it because of his dark humor.

Nightmare hates Reaper becaaause, what a redundancy, what he personifies and not what he is and that is what prevents Reaper from feeling sorry for Nightmare despite having gone through similar but not at all identical situations <33

Or maybe Color and The Stars (or Color and Dream specially, please, yes?)

Prolly i am forgetting things but whatever this is long enough, i hope the artist doesn't minds ;;0;;

Again this is, like everything i say, my opinion <3

Ship chart but it’s not a ship chart it’s a friendship/found family/QPR chart

[nickfowlerrr]

something good and true - part 2

part one / part three

pairing: mob boss!bucky barnes x reader

warnings (for all parts in whole): 18+ only. domestic violence. retelling of abuse and battery. minor character death mentioned. angst. sweet and protective bucky. fluff. not sure if this qualifies as a slow burn or not 👀 smut. there’s a happy ending! (as per usual)

words: 5k

notes: i’m so happy people are enjoying the first part, hopefully you’ll enjoy the rest too! lol thank you in advance for reading, i’d be happy to hear your thoughts! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and so appreciated. 🩵

You wake up to the sound of your daily alarm going off, grumbling as you search your sheets for your phone. When you have a grasp on it, you press the ‘stop’ button and make yourself sit up. You reach for your mouth guard case on the night stand as you take out your night guard, putting it in its case and placing it down momentarily. You rub your eyes, sighing as you try and really wake up. You went to bed early last night, somehow slept longer than usual, and are still tired. Great.

You finally force yourself out of bed and get started on your usual morning routine.

It’s Valentine’s Day but you don’t have a place to be until tonight so you take your time, enjoying the pleasure of a slow morning knowing you don’t have to be at work at all today.

When you’re done getting ready in the bathroom you find yourself dilly dallying in the closet. You don’t know what you should wear. Would dressing up be weird for a dinner/crime confessional? Or would it be more rude to show up to the regal Barnes’ home in casual clothes?

Finally you decide to meet in the middle of the two. You grab your fitted long sleeve purple top, the asymmetric off the shoulder style upgrading the otherwise basic top without being too much, and look for your nice figure hugging pants.

You don’t dress right away, wanting to save the outfit for before you’re set to be picked up in case of a mess. In the meantime, you do your usual makeup routine and style your hair for the day. It’s getting close to noon and your stomach growls, reminding you you’ve yet to eat. You head to the kitchen, still in your pajamas, prepared to start on a quick lunch when you hear a knock on the door.

You freeze for a moment before you walk toward the door, completely unsure of who it could be. You aren’t expecting anyone and the only person you’d be worried to answer the door to would be nothing more than a spector today.

You look out the peephole and see a delivery woman. With a quirked brow, you unlock the door and pull it open.

“Hello,” you greet.

“How are you, sweetie,” she returns with a bright smile. “Got a nice little delivery for you today,” she gestures to the long box she’s rested against the wall. “Just need a signature.”

You smile and take the pen from her, signing quickly, and probably illegibly.

“I’ll tell you, this is probably the biggest box for a bouquet that I’ve delivered since I started,” she laughs, “someone must really want you as their valentine.”

You laugh in return, trying to hide your confusion. There’s flowers in that box?

“Thank you,” you say as you hand her pen back.

“Have a nice Valentine’s,” she says as she turns and walks back toward her truck.

“You, too,” you say after her.

You turn your attention to the box and are careful as you bring it inside. You get it on the table and open it up.

You’re stunned at the bouquet that it holds. You never would’ve guessed the contents of this if she hadn’t mentioned it. The company name is on the inside of the box along with instructions for removing the bouquet without damaging the flowers. You follow the guidance after removing the glass vase packed safely next to the flowers.

It’s gorgeous, and surely expensive. A bouquet this beautifully arranged, with these varieties of flowers and fillers, you don’t know a whole lot about flower prices but you know arrangements like these cost a pretty penny, especially when they’re this size.

You don’t have to do much to the bouquet but again follow the care instructions as you put them in their vase.

At the very bottom of the box is a small card, it appears to have fallen from its stick that still resides among the stems. You can think of only one person who would be sending flowers, but you’re still a little struck when you read his initials on the card.

Forgive the surprise, but it’d be a shame for a woman as special as you to not be gifted on Valentine's.

I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.

- J.B.B

You try and quell the butterflies taking flight, try and tamper down the renewed nerves, but… He sent you flowers.

You bite your lip, not wanting to break a full smile. It was nice. But was it too much, and too soon? And no way you should feel this giddy with everything you’ve been going through. You don’t even think you’ve really cried since that day. You know better than to bury emotions, to try and move on without dealing with them. With the - you hate to call it what it is - trauma.

The truth is you don’t feel traumatized. You just don’t like to think about him. You don’t like to think about the pain, or the bruises, or the blood, or the knife. You don’t like remembering the fact that you saw a man die.

You shake the thoughts away, like you always do. No.

He’s ruined enough in your life, you think. You won’t let him ruin this new found light, too.

-

6:30 and you’re only now changing out of your pjs. You put on your pants and your top, checking in the mirror that it looks the way you envisioned it would. You slip on your black heeled mules and touch up your hair and makeup before putting on some simple jewelry. This isn’t a date, you remind yourself. This is dinner and the truth.

Your heart races at the thought of having to recall that day but you ignore it. It’ll be good for you, finally telling someone the whole of it.

A knock on your door startles you and you check the time on your phone to find it’s fifteen til.

You do one last check before turning off the lights and coming out into the front room, shutting the other lights off on your way. You double check the peephole and are reassured of Bucky’s presence on the other side. You have your phone in one hand and your small purse in the other, keys dangling from a finger as you open the door to him.

“Hi,” you muster up the greeting as you try to keep from staring at him. He looks sharp and you suddenly feel a little underdressed. Maybe a dress was the right way to go… You want to compliment him but then you’re unsure he’s dressed for you specifically.

“Hello,” he returns, a small smirk on his lips. “You look lovely.”

“Oh,” you look down at yourself, “thank you.” In the same moment, you remember the flowers and repeat yourself, looking to meet his eye. “And thank you, for the flowers, I- they’re beautiful.”

“Not more than you,” he says smoothly, “but I’m glad you liked them. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” you nod, stepping out. You turn to lock the door and slip the keys and your phone into your purse before turning to him again.

Bucky holds his arm out for you to take and you falter for just a split second before you do. He leads you to his car, the same blacked out Jaguar as before, and helps you in.

You try to settle in and buckle yourself before he gets in on his side.

He starts the car and after adjusting the temperature, takes off to his place.

“You like Italian?” he asks out of the blue a couple minutes into the quiet ride.

You glance over at him, “Uhm, yeah. I do.”

“The chef is making spaghetti and meatballs for dinner,” he says with a side glance to you. “Is that alright for you?”

You raise your brows unexpectedly, the question surprising you, “Yes. That ah, sounds good,” you nod.

He looks over at you again, one hand on the wheel as he drives smoothly. You clear your throat nervously.

“How’s your day been?” you ask, your nerves clear in your voice despite your attempt to hide them.

His lips quirk in a half smile, huffing a laugh through his nose.

“Relatively uneventful, until now. Had lunch with an old friend, made some business calls but aside from that I tried to keep my day clear.”

“Oh,” you hum, suddenly feeling bad about having to intrude on his day - though he was the one who didn’t give much of an option at all.

“Truthfully, I’ve just been looking forward to seeing you.”

Your eyes start slowly looking up from your lap as you take in his words until you turn to meet his gaze.

“Me?”

“You.”

You swallow thickly and avert your eyes, you’re once again at a loss for words.

“Sorry,” he chuckles softly, “was that too much?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't think I’ve made myself or my intentions clear enough,” he says, turning onto a desolate street and driving up what you now see is a long, winding driveway. His home comes into view and your eyes widen. It’s like Wayne Manor. The Neo-Georgian style is oddly fitting for the man beside you.

You’re brought back to the conversation as Bucky pulls into the large garage and parks the car. You look at him fully once more, his bright blue eyes already on you.

“I don’t want you feeling scared or nervous, or like you’re in any kind of trouble here. Tonight is really more selfishly motivated on my part than anything. I just wanna talk over dinner. In part to get the whole story about what happened, but also just to be able to have dinner with you without any prying eyes. I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable, I should’ve made that clear to you before.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, “you should’ve.” You breathe deeply but steadily as you look at him, his eyes never leaving yours, “I would’ve worn a dress.”

His lips twitch as he blinks at you; he lets out a titter as he opens his door and gets out, walking around to get your own.

He helps you out of the car and takes your arm in his, “You look beautiful no matter what.”

Your skin burns at his compliment and you can’t help your admiration. You don’t think you’ve ever been treated so nicely before.

“You’re like a real life gentleman,” you muse shyly.

“My mom didn’t raise me any other way,” he says, leading you into the house.

The aroma of marina and garlic fills your nose as you walk through the space and you suddenly feel very hungry.

“I can give you the tour later, but for now, this is the entertainment room,” he gestures to the room as you continue walking through, coming to a door and going out into the hall. “Bathroom,” he points to the door on the left of you. “Kitchen,” he points to the hinged doors the smell is emanating from, continuing down the hall to the open space it lead to. “This is the entrance and sitting room, and on the other side, just there,” he points across the way, “is the dining room. And there’s another bathroom down on the left, too.”

“You have a beautiful home,” you compliment, eyes wandering the space. It’s really like something out of a magazine or a movie. Funny to imagine people actually live in gorgeous homes like this.

“Dinner shouldn’t be too long,” Bucky starts but pauses when he sees the contemplation on your face. “What is it?” he asks.

You look to him, brows furrowed as you think before you fix your face. “Uhm, can we just talk about it now,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “Get it all out and over with.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Please.”

“Sure,” he says after assessing you for a long second, leading you to the couch to sit down.

You set your purse on the coffee table and take a seat, hands trailing down the fabric of your pants as you smooth them out of habit.

Bucky sits down beside, but leaves some space between you and him.

You aren’t sure how to start.

“Uhm, what is it that you want to know again?”

“Everything,” he says firmly, but without being too harsh, keeping his eyes on you. “What happened, how it started, how it ended. The whole story.”

“Right. Okay, well uhm, it started I guess with us getting together… it didn’t last all that long, really. Freddy and I were seeing each other last year for about six months before I ended things. Or, tried to, at least. He was moving really fast and I didn’t have all that much interest in taking our relationship further than just casually dating. We had an argument about moving in together that ended with him… slapping me,” you force the confession, “we were at his place and I just grabbed my bag and keys and left. I thought that’d be the end of it, I said as much on my way out, but he didn’t wanna accept that, I guess. And so the next six months he was…stalking me?” You weren’t sure what qualified. “I dont know, he’d just always show up places, act like nothing was wrong, kept up a front until we were alone. And I was stupid, I didn’t even bother trying to tell anyone we weren’t together after the first few times. No one believed me, anyway. So, outside looking in it seemed like a typical on again off again situation.

It got to the point where I just accepted whatever it was that was happening. I didn’t really know what else to do. How to stop it. He’d show up at my job, be waiting for me in my car sometimes. I didn’t have much of a choice of letting him in, or driving him home. He’d always end up inside, one way or another, and I… didn’t know when to shut up,” you laugh humorlessly. “I’d tell him to leave, that we weren’t together. He was crazy and wasn’t welcome anywhere around me. I’d yell and scream and the fighting was just, god, maddening. I felt like I was going crazy half the time. It didn’t escalate every time, but when it did,” you wince without noticing as you mindlessly wring your hand. “Anyway, about a month before the last time, I had found him in my house and I was just exhausted. I looked at him while he sat at the counter eating a sandwich and I asked him to leave. I told him there wasn’t anything here for him. That I didn’t love him, and I never would. And that he didn’t love me, either, and deep down that he knew it. Which is all true,” you add, chancing a glance at Bucky who is still next to you, listening intently, eyes locked on you. “I mean, we’d been seeing each other pretty casually for six months, and I knew after the first that we weren’t going anywhere. I thought we were just having fun, I just don’t know why he thought anything different…

But, uhm, yeah anyway, he actually listened that time. There wasn’t an argument, he just threw his food in the garbage, and, well, he pushed past me on his way out but he didn’t look back. Slammed the door on his way and I, I really thought that that was finally it. I thought maybe he’d moved on or something, I don’t-“ you pause, taking a needed breath as you shake your head. “I was wrong though. Because two weeks later he showed up again. Out of the blue. I was in the kitchen, making dinner because my dad was coming over to see if he could fix my heater later. I thought maybe it was him at the door so I didn’t even bother to check before I opened it. And when I did, and it was him, I immediately tried to close it. He looked… I don’t know. Bad. Like, really bad.” You can feel your eyes prick with the beginning of tears as your voice tightens at the memory. “I’d seen him in some pretty bad ways, but I never,” you swallow hard, ”I’d never felt that scared of him before. Even with the pushing and slapping and all that he’d put me through me before. This was just like, unhinged. The look in his eyes when he stared at me,” you force a breath at the recalling.

“I wasn’t able to close the door on him, he shoved it open, didn’t even say anything, just shoved me as hard as he could. I fell against the side table I had by the door, caught myself. I was freaking out, telling him to stop, to leave, and he wouldn’t.

I tried to get to the kitchen to grab my phone and call my dad but he caught me by the back of my shirt and yanked me back. He was going on and on about how stupid I was. How I ruined everything. Calling me every expletive under the sun. He shoved me forward and I went straight into the counter, that hurt,” you monologue, recalling the feeling sharply. “He kicked me while I was leaning against the counter but I got my phone and called my dad. I didn’t even wait for him to answer, I just put my phone back on the counter and hoped Freddy hadn’t noticed. Hoped my dad picked up. He kicked me again, in my back and I kinda fell into the chair there. Was holding it because I didn’t wanna be on the ground but he’d knocked the wind out of me and my chest hurt so badly I wasn’t really able to do anything but try and force myself to breathe. And then I felt him closer, he kneeled down, still over me but more on my level and he just, uh, he smashed my head into that back side of the counter. I tried to elbow him away but he did it again. And then I don’t know what I did,” you try to recall, “but I did something that hurt hit, must’ve hit him somewhere somehow because he backed off while calling me a stupid bitch. The whole time I’m like grunting and trying to be as loud as I can just praying my dad answered and could hear and would be on his way.” You have to stop for a second, regaining control of your voice. You’ve almost forgotten that Bucky is beside you as you narrate what you remember.

“I pushed myself up then, got to my feet, but he was already standing too. He shoved me back and back until I hit the wall just next to the kitchen. And then his hands were on my throat and he was choking me. Just forcing me into the wall over and over. I was clawing at him to let me go. I had to shut my eyes because the look on his face,” you cringe. “I kind of stopped listening to what he was saying at one point because it was just an endless stream of blame and anger. I couldn’t breathe,” you squeeze your hand so tight as you speak, “and then I thought, just try to kick him. And so I did. I kneed him, actually, right between his legs and he let go and I kinda dropped. My throat hurt and my head hurt and I was coughing trying to get a good breath in. And then, I didn’t even notice it happening, didn’t even try to dodge it or deflect it, but he just hit me right in the face. Like, boom.

I’d never been punched in the face before,” you chuckle dryly. “Things get blurry around this point. But I remember falling to my hands and knees at some point. He stepped on my hand and kicked my wrist and that hurt like a bitch. Everything was hurting actually. The part I really remember is the kicking. He kicked me in my ribs and I kinda collapsed on my side. Then he kicked me in my back. A few times. Just, as hard as he possibly could it felt like. He started to like, pace around me, and he was still talking but honestly, I have no idea what he was saying. I started to go out of it and I guess he didn’t like that because I remember hearing his voice get louder and then he kicked me again right in the stomach. I was curling up like getting into fetal position basically just trying to not get more hurt. But he just kept kicking me. Over, and over,” your voice shakes as your voice gets breathy, “and over.” Your eyes are misty with unshed tears welling as you stare at your wringing hands. It’s starting to hurt and as if Bucky himself could feel it, he gently reaches to take hold of your hand, stilling your anxious self soothing and giving it the gentlest squeeze, waiting for you to continue as he listens. You glance quickly his way, but don’t look at him. Your eyes instead focusing on your hand in his. You’re not sure you can look at him. You just need to finish telling him what you know about what happened, and then you can face him again.

“We were in front of the kitchen when my dad came in. The door was open, so he got in right away and, most of this is blacked out for me, but I remember hearing my dad saying my name, and,” you feel the tears begin to slip as you sigh in that same relief, “and I thought, thank god,” you titter tightly. “It’s okay now. I’m gonna be okay.” You reach with one hand to swipe at the tears on your cheeks as you sniffle a bit. “There were a lot of loud sounds, I didn’t see anything but I could hear them. I think when my dad first came in he just charged right for Freddy to get him away from me. And my dad, he just saw red. I don’t think anyone would’ve been able to stop him once he got his hands on Freddy. He had been listening to everything that was happening as he drove to my house so I mean, I can only imagine what was going through his head. And then seeing me like that…” you take a pause.

“I really think he saved my life,” you say, finally looking up to Bucky. He looks tense, jaw squared and something dark swimming in his eyes before he recognizes you looking at him - immediately trying to soften his hard gaze. You know innately that he isn’t angered by you, but rather, what happened. And the delicate way he still holds your hand assures you of that.

“And, well, they ended up in the kitchen, and considering only the few defensive marks on my dad after everything, I think he was just pummeling him. I finally got myself to try and get up and made it closer to the kitchen. I wanted to make sure my dad was alright, and right when I saw them, I saw Freddy trying to get the knife I had been using that was still on the counter. My dad noticed, hit him again, and then grabbed it himself. And then, he, uhm,” you try to clear your throat, “he stabbed him. A few times,” you add, turning closer to Bucky without realizing. “And I guess I don’t really have the stomach for that stuff because after that I just passed out. Scared the hell out of my dad. He saw me and immediately left Freddy, let him fall. Let him… die. I really don’t think he meant to, necessarily. But I know he didn’t really care either way if he did or not. Which is, ya know, I’m not mad or upset at my dad for what he did. At all. I don’t think I would’ve been able to do it myself, and at the end of the day it was either gonna be him or one of us.” You bite your lip as you fidget with Bucky’s hand. You take a moment, taking a breath before getting back to the story. It comes a little easier now, like the hardest part of remembering has passed.

“I woke up in my old bedroom at my parents house, my mom was there. I could tell she had been worried. She told me my dad brought me home and that he went to go clean up and ‘get rid of the trash’. You know, take the trash out and all that,” you allude, giving Bucky a look, eyeing him and hoping to lighten a little bit of the tension around him. He lets the smallest hint of a smile tug on his lips as he stares at you.

“I know,” he confirms, then waits for you to go on. You blink away from him, playing with the silver signet ring on his pinky.

“I really don’t know what he did with him,” you tell him. “He wouldn’t tell me. He didn’t want me to know, or to worry about it. He said if anything happened, if police got involved, he didn’t want me to have any part in it.”

“Good man.”

You smile at Bucky’s words and nod slightly. “Yeah. He is,” you look back at Bucky, hoping to explain better that the trouble this whole thing caused wasn’t his fault. “He was just trying to take care of me, keep me safe. So, I know Freddy worked in your organization, and if his…going missing, caused problems for you, I’m sorry. It was neve-“

“Woah, sweetheart,” Bucky cuts you off almost right away, brows furrowed, “That was never an issue. Freddy had been a problem for business for a while, actually. My only regret is not having handled him myself, and sooner;” he says, his voice low and his agitation at the regret clear in his tone and in his eyes. “I owe your father a thank you.”

Another relief washes over you. You had wanted to believe before when he said you and your dad had nothing to worry about, but hearing that now, you fully do. Especially seeing the raw emotions swimming in the blues of his eyes. He means what he says, you know it.

“The only reason I bothered to look into his absence at all was because of the information and money he had in his car the last time he had a job. We got footage of your dad from that night, parking and abandoning the car, a couple weeks after I first met you. We got what we really needed then, got the car and found the inventory. Thought maybe he was going rogue, went into hiding or something, but then, some of my guys actually found him - and I figured we should know what went down if we wanted to make sure getting rid of him for good would be the end of it. And I knew, somehow, this had you all caught up in it. You’re not the best liar,” he smirks teasingly before he gets serious again, “and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to make sure you were okay. And now I know, so it's done. I promise you aren’t ever gonna have to worry or think about that scumbag again.” He moves his hand from yours and instead takes both in his, holding them as he looks at you sincerely. “I know that wasn’t easy for you to have to talk about, but I appreciate you telling me. I’m sorry you ever had to go through any of that. None’a that should’ve happened. And you deserve a hell of a lot better than the likes of him, even at his best, ya know that?”

You look at him, a little taken aback by his sincerity and care. People talk a lot about Bucky Barnes, but clearly not many know him - not like this. You’ve seen the exterior, the hardened, cocky front. But this caring, attentive and protective side is something you’d never have expected. Though it’s more than welcome. You warm at his words but don’t answer, instead looking down at your hands for a second before he takes his back. He lifts his touch to your chin and tilts until your eyes meet his again, a breath caught in your throat when you do.

“You do know that, don’t you, doll?” He repeats, the softness you find yourself growing ever fonder of back in his intent gaze as he seems to try and peer into your soul.

You can’t get your tongue to work but your hand moves to hold his wrist gently and you manage to nod your head. Then your body seems to move without thinking. You pull his hand away and he lets you, but you don’t drop your touch, instead guiding his hand to his side. You then find yourself moving into him without a word. You couldn’t resist the urge to hug him if you’d wanted to. Your arms go around him as you lean into him, his own arms readily coming around you in return. Your eyes fall shut at the feeling the warmth of him sends through you, your body relaxing, the tension that had been coursing through you relieving more and more.

“Thank you,” you murmur before pulling away. “And sorry,” you breathe a slightly embarrassed laugh as you look at him.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says, a hint of a smile curving his lips, one arm still around your waist. You aren’t sure he even realizes and truthfully, you don’t mind at all. In fact, you like the feeling.

A moment passes as you both just look at one another until you hear his name and his hand falls fully on your hip.

“Mr. Barnes,” a man speaks as he enters from the hall in the direction of the kitchen. You both give him your attention as you turn to look at him. “Oh, excuse me, my apologies,” he smiles at you as you catch his eye. “Dinner will be served shortly, and I can bring your salads out momentarily if you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Grant,” Bucky dismisses before turning his full attention back to you. “Are you hungry?”

You turn to Bucky and nod, a soft, small smile pulling at your lips, “Very,” you answer honestly.

His touch slips away as he stands but he holds his hand out for you to take. You do just that and let him lead you to the dining room.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 3: But I Don't Want to Carry On Like Everything Is Fine

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy and we all know he's a warning. Homophobic comments towards Hughie (It's Soldier Boy y'all), Self deprecating thoughts, ANGST, SADNESS, HEART RIPPING OUT OF CHEST (figuratively because it's what it felt like to write this), Fear? Mentions of past graphic death, Mentions of torture (SB in Russia), Cursing, Mentions of past abuse (verbal abuse and it's SB doing it to someone because… we ALL know), Mentions of drinking, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing, Basically the reader just wants to be loved, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.9K

Song Inspiration For Chapter: Love In The Dark By Adele (Title for chapter taken from this song)

Playlist For Series!✨

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

A/N: I know this chapter is a long time coming, but thank you so much to everyone who has loved this series so far, and for encouraging me to come back to it. I hope y'all are strapped in for a ride, because this is when all the angst starts to unfold… But also… I might have changed up the Soulmate AU even more in a crazy more heartbreaking direction so, there's that too

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Guide:

Reader's thoughts are in italics and in first person.

Ben's thoughts in italics, bold, and blue!

Previously:

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." The man rumbles, the words vibrating against your fingertips where they rest against his muscular chest. He smiles at you and somewhere deep down you feel something break open that you thought was locked away long ago.

And as you stand there looking up at the man you thought you'd never see again, you feel a flicker of something that could grow into a blaze.

You stand there in the silence that follows the words of your soulmate, the rough vibration of his voice still trembling through your fingertips where they lay against his chest, as you stare up into his hypnotic green eyes. The sunlight that streams in from the windows at you back traces the hardened edges of his handsome face turning his dark hair a honeyed brown. A smile pulls at the end of his lips, crinkling his eyes, and bringing a softness to the rugged features that make your heart beat quicken.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and yet nothing what you’d expected. You briefly wonder if you were what he expected, but judging from the women you'd seen him with in his memories you weren't, given that you looked nothing like them.

The air around the both of you warms as electricity pops and crackles along your skin skittering against the flesh and bringing goosebumps in its wake. A wave of heat travels from where Ben's hand is gently cupping your chin in his calloused fingertips, that makes you feel like you're melting from the inside out.

Nothing else exists in the world except the two of you. There's no need to breathe, no need to see, and no need to speak, because all you know is your soulmate. You can feel the beating of his heart in your own chest, feel the thrum of electricity in his body along your nerve endings, and each breath he takes you can feel vibrate in your lungs.

You'd spent years feeling like a freak, lost, and out of place, but standing here with Ben so close that you can feel his breath on your face, makes you feel whole for the first time in your life.

He's still too far away.

A voice whispers in your ear and you long to close the distance between the two of you, to hold him tight and never let him go.

The date on your wrist sears hotter than it did the first day you met him burning through the foundation once again that you'd smeared across it to hide it  and the golden cord that wove through the air securing his heart to yours seconds ago grows so hot that it turns a blinding white. And just as you think you'll have to shut your eyes from the brilliant light, the cord squeezes your chest to tight it takes your breath away.

You inhale sharply as a flood of emotions comes washing over you that aren't your own, memories that you'd only seen in your dreams flash through your mind as if you lived them, and Ben's eyes widen as he feels the same thing. His heart beats in tandem with yours, the space between you growing to almost nothing as the cord yanks you so close that you can feel his breath on your lips and his hands fall to your hips to steady you against him, sending goosebumps prickling over your body with his touch.

You'd read about what it was like to meet your soulmate before and people had tried to tell you, but for everyone it was different and no one ever described as anything like this. Especially not happening a second time after they'd crossed paths.

This shouldn't be happening, we've already met.

But you know you're not imagining this, you know that your soul is singing to Ben's, calling out to his and both of them are twisting between the two of you, weaving you together, binding you as one.

The spark in the pit of your stomach you felt the moment Ben's eyes locked with yours has begun to flare again until it burns into a wild-fire, but it's not love you feel, not compassion, not relief, or love, it's fear.

It sobers you.

Its cold finger drags down your spine and seizes in your chest, wiping away whatever else you're feeling for the handsome man standing only millimeters from you.

The Ben's memories you re-lived in your dreams come roaring back like a lion over a kill, each one more horrific than the last.

You see your soulmate standing triumphantly over bodies burned beyond recognition, see him beating someone into submission his fists splattered with red, watch as he laughs at the torment of his younger teammates and then opens his mouth to say something so repulsive it makes your skin crawl, and you see the proud smirk when he knows he's won, when he knows that he can't be beaten and no one can stop him.

He had no remorse in any of those moments, no compassion, no regret, there was only the pride and arrogance that comes with his belief that he had bested whomever attempted to challenge him.

Nothing about him is gentle, caring, or kind and nothing about him is anything like you.

You who'd never been in a fight your entire life, you who tried your hardest to make sure that no one ever felt what it was like to be alone as you had for so many years, you who always put others first, and you who tried to always find something kind to say about someone else.

Everything about your soulmate and who he is terrifies you, chills you to your core and wipes away the sensations that skittered along your skin and buried themselves in your heart moments ago.

He can't be mine. Not someone like him. Please no, anyone but him.

Your soulmate's head tilts to the side and his eyebrows furrow with confusion, mouth twitching into a frown, and you realize that he can feel your fear, maybe even hear it in the quick pulse of your heart or maybe he could smell it.

You weren't sure how his powers worked, all you knew was that you'd seen what he'd done with them, you’d seen the kind of person he was, and you wanted no part of that even if it meant being alone.

You'd spent your entire life waiting for this moment and now you wish it never came.

The cord between you snaps, the sound like breaking glass, but the man's emotions still remain in your head. You feel his confusion, his apprehension, and underneath it all you feel something else, something vulnerable that flicks away in an instant.

You step back from him, allowing his hands fall from your waist, prepared to run, needing to put as much distance between the two of you, but his fingers closes hard on your wrist just over his birthdate, hard enough to bruise.

I have to get of here.

"Where are you going?" He asks, his voice gruff, the sound of water over rocks, smoothing the sharp edges, answering your thought with a question.

"Please let me go." You say, unable to catch your breath and tugging at where his hand tightens around your wrist.

The feeling of his skin pressed to yours is overwhelming, begging you to curve into him, to sink into the warmth of your soulmate and never resurface for air.

But you can't. The fear is there, rising in the back of your throat, clamping down hard and stopping the rush of oxygen to your brain.

You weren't like Butcher, you didn’t hate supes, but you also weren't unrealistic or clueless about them. You didn't believe that all of them were bad, because with the bad came the good.

Your brother's soulmate Annie was proof of that, a supe that wasn't evil or callous or on a power trip to make others submit to her will. She cared for other people, used her powers to help others, but not all supes were like her.

Your brother had told you to stay away from supes like your soulmate, warned you about Homelander before he vanished, and warned you that not all supes were as they appeared. Although, Hughie had tried hard to keep his life separate from yours, Butcher believed you had a right to know that the supes who promised safety and freedom would be the first to take it away from you.

The stories Butcher had told you about Homelander kept you awake at night fearing for your brother and Annie’s safety, and your own. You knew that the new leader of the Seven, Stormfront, was just as bad, if not worse.

As much as you believed in the strength of your brother's soulmate, there was another part of you that knew she might not be a match for Stormfront, at least not on her own.

You yank your hand again trying to break his grip, but it doesn't move from Ben's grasp.

Why is she trying to leave?

Ben's voice in your head makes you hesitate, eyes widening as you look up into his face. You knew that Ben didn't say that out loud and yet you'd heard it. 

Holy shit, how can I hear his thoughts? Can he hear mine?

You weren't a supe and you didn't understand why you could hear his thoughts and feel his emotions, or why you hadn't been able to feel or hear them in the year since the two of you met.

What the fuck is going on? Ben's voice says louder in your head and you don't understand what the hell was going on. No one in history had ever been able to hear their soulmate's thoughts or their emotions, you knew that for a fact.

"Let me go!" You say louder.

All other sounds of whispered conversations and tinkling glasses have stopped as everyone in the room turns to stare at the two of you.

Your emotions were overwhelming, the part of you screaming to run away fighting with the urge to get closer to Ben.

His confusion floods into you as well as a slew of other emotions from him that you can’t put a name to. He doesn't understand why you're trying to get away from him and why he can feel your emotions either.

"But-" Ben begins to say.

You're my soulmate. His thought finishes in your head.

"Let her go." Hughie says appearing on your left.

The confused look in Ben's eyes shifts to annoyance, the green hardening within a second. "Fuck off. This isn't your problem." He snarls gaze flicking to your brother who looks closer to anger than you'd seen him in years.

Ben's anger and annoyance comes in a wave of heat, scorching up your arms and into your chest, clawing against your ribcage.

What the hell is happening?

"Oi let her go mate." Butcher's voice joins Hughie's and you can feel the presence of the other man hovering just over your shoulder.

Truthfully you liked Butcher. You thought he was funny and that he cared more about other people more than he was willing to let on. Not to mention after he lost his Soulmate, Becca, Butcher didn't have much to do, so you’d invite him over for movie nights with Annie and Hughie so you didn't feel like the awkward fourth wheel. Butcher was as much your friend as he was Hughie's.

I didn't fucking ask to butt in you British cunt. Ben's thought burns through your body with a wave of his anger and you can feel the heat of his skin raise.

Another shiver of fear courses down your spine at the thought of Ben losing control and burning you alive just as he had done to his teammates.

Ben's eyes drop back to yours when you whimper in pain, trying to free your wrist from his grasp, and this time Ben releases you.

The warmth you felt from touching his skin is gone, leaving only a dull throb in your wrist as you clutch it to your chest, eyes wide with fear and horror.

Ben's eyes drag down your body to your wrist and you can feel a flicker of something that might be guilt, but you're not sure if he can feel things like that. All you know is that you have to get away from him.

Why is she afraid of me?

Ben's thoughts are back, vibrating through your skull and bringing a wave of emotion with it that's not yours. You back away from him, but Ben takes a step forward to fill the space you left behind reaching for you again.

"Don't touch me." You whisper, throat thick. You couldn't tell what were his emotions and what were yours colliding in your head, all you knew was that you didn't want him anywhere near you.

Stay away from me! You think taking another step back. Ben tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He takes another step towards you still not comprehending what is happening, frustration and confusion burning through the air between the two of you.

You'd seen the short temper your soulmate had, saw what happened to people on the wrong side of it, and you cringe away from him in fear. You didn't want to be on the receiving end of his fist or whatever the hell he had locked away in his chest.

Please don’t hurt me.

The thought comes before you can stop it and you watch something flash in Ben’s eyes that looks surprisingly like hurt.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben says, eyebrows furrowing together. “I’m your soulmate, I’d never hurt you.”

It confirms what you already know, that Ben can hear your thoughts just as you can hear his.

You back up into Butcher's chest and he drops his hands down on your shoulders to make you feel better.

Get your fucking hands off of her. She's mine!

Ben's voice roars in your head. The wave of jealousy and rage that you feel rip through your body at the feeling of Butcher's touch scorches against your insides.

"You should go." Hughie says calmly, but you can hear an edge to his voice.

"I'm not going fucking anywhere you overgrown glory hole!" Ben snaps, eyes flashing in the light of the sun behind you, the soft green long gone, but falling on you once more.

Why is she acting like she's not my soulmate? Like she doesn't want me?

Ben's voice asks in your head, the words snagging in something deep down that you thought you locked away years ago, the empty place inside that you longed for someone to fill, the empty place you knew that this man was supposed to belong.

No. No. No. Why is this happening to me?

"Hey, you don’t get to fucking speak to him like that in our house!" Annie shouts back at Ben, her eyes narrowed at the man who was at least two heads taller than she was.

It was all too much. You couldn't be here, not with all these people watching you. You move out of Butcher's grip and around Ben as close as you dare, trying to get to the front door and away from him. You could feel everyone's eyes on you and hear their silent judgement.

It reminded you too much of your childhood, the one you spent wishing that the whispers and odd looks would stop, the one when people would cross to the other side of the road like you had something contagious, the one where you felt so alone that you couldn't standing it and when you wished that someone, anyone, would fill the hole you felt inside for far too long. The same hole that you couldn't feel when Ben was touching you.

"Wait-" Ben begins to say, voice gruff, while trying again to grab you, but you dodge his hand and run full speed at the front door of the apartment.

Come back.

There's something behind those words that grates against your heart, but you don't turn around.

Hughie and Annie shout your name, but you're already gone. You can’t be here, not now, not with him standing there, not when he's everything you'd thought you'd never have and yet, everything that you fear.

Your footsteps pound against the cracked pavement, the world around you a soundless blur with every pump of your arms. Rain swats against your skin as you run, each slap of your bare feet against cracked pavement mirroring the thunder that shakes the buildings around you.

You'd lost your shoes the minute you broke into a run outside Hughie and Annie's apartment, and you were too afraid to go back for them.

Water trickles down your spine, bringing the chill of the rain with it, but you can’t feel it, the only thing you feel is the flood of emotions you'd had since the moment you ran into your soulmate again, the one who left you on the street one year ago like you meant nothing to him. 

Funny, when that happened you thought that was the worst of it, but it wasn't.

What did I do to deserve this?

Flashes of your soulmate's memory echo the lightning above, the horrors you witnessed in the sweet abyss of sleep that haunted your mind. Bloody fists, blackened bodies, harsh laughter, and clips of dialogue play through your mind on a sickening loop.

You ran as if you thought you could leave it all behind, as if you could leave him behind, but he was everywhere. He was in the faces of the people in the crowds, in the sound of the thunder, in the thrum of your blood through your veins, in each beat of your heart, and in each breath you took.

The look he had on his face when you fled was there, bringing a wave of guilt for leaving him behind the way that he left you one year ago.

But he left me before he knew me. I know him. I've seen what he's done. I-

The thought brings the memory of the hurt that flashed through Ben's eyes at the apartment back into your head.

In all the memories you'd seen of him, you'd never seen him look hurt, but it was there somewhere, slipping through whatever warped telepathy the two of you had, the telepathy you didn't understand.

How could someone you waited for your whole life fill you with such dread? How could the man who was the other half of your soul, be anything like the man you met?

In the past you'd tried to imagine who it would be, what your soulmate would look like, how he'd treat you, and what kind of man he'd be. You'd seen a faceless man holding sunflowers out to you, a man holding you while you cried, a man sitting with you curled on the couch while you read through one of your favorite books with your head leaning on his shoulder, a man taking you to bed while your fingers clasped his above your head and the soft sound of his voice telling you how much he loved you, a man who touched you reverently, as if you were something to be worshipped, a man who made you feel safe and who would listen when you talked to him, a man who remembered the little things, a man who took care of you, and a man who sat with you while you graded papers and sighed to yourself at the end of a day that seemed endless.

Now it all seemed like a big lie, because your soulmate could never be that man. You'd seen exactly who and what he was.

The idea that you were cursed seemed to fit now, because there had to be something or someone above laughing at your expense, making you suffer all the years you were alone dreaming of a man who could be those things for you only to give you the one man who could be none of them.

Annie and Hughie were perfect in every way. All the little things that made each of them unique molded together to create something beautiful. They loved each other in a way that made your chest hurt to look at them.

You'd wanted that so badly for so long.

And now the stars laughed at you because they'd given you him.

You didn't think it would be possible for you to ever love someone like him. Someone who took from others and gave none in return, someone who found joy in the submission of others, and someone who hurt and killed with no remorse.

Monsters did that, men who thought the world owed them something or rather that the world should submit to them, men who took and took and never once cared what it did to the people around them, and men who never saw anyone else as an equal.

In the past you'd thought that your soulmate of all people would see you as something more than just a possession, but rather something that strengthened him, made him stronger with your love and care, made him a better man, and a man who saw you as someone, not something.

People clear out of your way, parting to watch what they must believe is a woman driven mad, running shoeless, down the streets of NYC in the middle of a torrential downpour.

And maybe you were crazy to run from someone who looked like your soulmate did.

There was no denying that he was gorgeous. He looked like he stepped right out of a book, the dashing dark-hared brooding hero with sharp features and green eyes you wished to lose yourself in. Your soulmate looked like every lead male character you'd imagined and fallen in love with in every book you ever read. The novels you read when everything in the real world was disappointing and bleak, the ones that opened their pages and welcomed you home, promised an escape from the mediocre and enveloped you in the extraordinary.

He looked like everything you ever wanted. Something taken from your unconscious and made real.

Why me?

The fear was back, the cold trickle that became a roar blocking out the little voice inside your head that scolded you and told you to turn around and go back to him, that you needed him, the little voice that told you he was yours, that he was made for you, just as you were made for him. The voice that promised after years of being alone and filled with a cold, empty feeling, all you had to do was turn around and run back to the sun.

But you can't go back, because you're not sure if your soulmate is even human anymore.

In the past your bathtub had been a place of solace where you could have a nice glass of wine and lose yourself in a good book, but today the warm water did little to sooth the anxiety prickling on the back of your neck.

There was a Rosemary Mint candle lit on the small counter next to the sink sending a flickering yellow light over the worn subway tiles in your bathroom. One of two candles Annie had gifted you for Christmas in a handmade basket full of things to pamper yourself and a candle that was supposedly good for "stress relief" but you were prepared to call bullshit on that given the state of your nerves.

The plush white bathrobe hanging on the back of your bathroom door, the jar of soothing lavender bath salts nestled into the elbow of your tub, and the face masks scattered on the bathroom counter also came from the same basket.

All of which served as another reminder of how perfect she was for your thoughtful and caring brother.

The thought brings a wave of sadness over you and you lean your head into your knees.

None of this was helping.

You couldn't remember coming home, didn't remember running up the creaky stairs to your floor, didn’t remember passing by Mrs. Charleson's apartment with the happily painted yellow door, didn't remember unlocking the five locks on your apartment door, and certainly didn't remember slipping into the warm bath you found yourself in.

The only thing you could remember was meeting your soulmate, feeling the warmth of his caress over your skin, hearing the smooth rumble of his voice like distant thunder, and seeing how the memories you'd seen did not do justice to the handsome and rugged features he had.

A shiver of fear follows and your tighten your arms around your knees.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be different.

You think to yourself as your eyes drift to the hand print on your wrist, the one that had already begun to turn an ugly blue and ironically was curved over the birthdate that glowed gold in the flickering light.

Why him?

A wave of guilt comes swiftly when you think of the way he looked at you when you thought that in front of him.

How could he hear my thoughts? How could I hear his thoughts and feel his emotions?

There were so many things about the soulmate bond the two of you had that made no sense. You knew for a fact that no one else could see their soulmates memories when they slept, but the ability to hear your soulmate's thoughts and feel his emotions? It was impossible. And unless someone had spiked your drink with compound V at the party, you still weren't a supe and had no idea what the hell was going on!

But you were thankful that you couldn't hear Ben's thoughts and emotions right now. You didn't know why that was and hoped it meant that it only happened when you were around him or hoped it meant that it would never happen again.

The memory of how you met Ben again sends a warm feeling from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Another mystery… why it was like that to meet Ben the second time.

None of your friends ever told you that it was like that to run into your soulmate a second time.

Then again what other soulmate leaves you standing in the street alone?

The golden cord glows behind your eyelids, the cord that bound Ben's heart to yours for a few precious seconds, a moment that lasted forever. You'd never heard anyone talk about a golden cord before either. Annie said that when she met Hughie it felt like fireworks, but she never talked about feeling like she was bound to your brother or told you that it was anything like what you’d experienced with Ben.

What the hell is going on?

When you'd told Mrs. Charleson that you were dreaming Ben's memories she'd said that she'd heard a myth about it, that it meant the two of you were "meant to share more than one lifetime together," (whatever that meant), but she'd never mentioned anything about a cord that wove soulmates together. You would have gone to talk to her after the train wreck that happened at the party, but you knew that she was still at work.

Despite the fact that she had more than enough money to retire, your neighbor argued that people "who slowed down got old." She'd been running a successful apartment and house cleaning business for years, but about a year ago a man had hired her to clean his apartment and cook for him full time. He'd offered her so much money that your neighbor no longer needed to clean anyone else's home and was employed as his housekeeper.

You didn't know anything about him, didn't even know his name, but your neighbor said he was a kind young man who often reminded her of her son and was richer than a piece of french silk pie. You supposed he was a wall-street guy or the founder of some tech company, but you couldn’t believe the descriptions of his apartment she told you or the pictures you'd shown you.

It sounded and looked like a palace so far in the air it might as well be a castle in the sky, but you wanted to see it in person.

You did like your apartment, but it was too small even just for you. The thought of having a place where you could have a real desk, sunlight, consistent water pressure, a breathtaking view, and no super who only responded to twenty dollar bills and asked you for pictures of your feet daily sounded heavenly.

Not to mention it would be nice not to live somewhere with walls so thin you could hear your neighbors having obnoxiously loud sex at all hours of the night like bats. You had no idea how they ever got anything done with so little sleep.

And yeah, maybe Mrs. Charleson and you had made fun of the guy's decorating choices, but you figured that maybe he just needed someone to help him pick out furniture that was a little more comfortable to make his apartment seem less like a museum and more like a home. Mrs. Charleson had said he was single anyway, which meant that guy probably hadn't met his soulmate and when he did, they would help him out.

The front door of your apartment opens and fear momentarily spikes at the thought of it being your soulmate, that he'd somehow figured out where you lived, and he'd find you naked and vulnerable in the bathtub.

But then you hear your brother shout your name from your living room and a wave of relief crashes over you.

"I'm in the tub." You yell back.

Honestly, you didn't feel like talking to anyone, not after the day you had. You wanted to forget it happened, to go to bed and go to work tomorrow as if everything were normal and not as if your life was falling apart. It always felt like it was falling apart, but today was exceptionally heart breaking.

"Can you come out?" Hughie asks. You can hear him lean his head against the door of your small bathroom and you imagine his frown.

"I don't feel like talking right now." You reply pushing your face further into your knees.

"I brought tacos."

You hesitate for a second. Your brother and you had always been close. Sure there were those awkward sibling moments and a little bit of sibling rivalry and times when Hughie annoyed you to no end, but he was your best friend. It was him who encouraged you to become an English teacher despite the constant disapproval from your parents, him who loaned you enough money to get out from under their roof and start your own life, and him who always knew just the way to cheer you up… hence the tacos.

"And a blind date from Inky's Inspirations." He continues.

Damnit.

Inky's Inspirations was your favorite used book store. You had spent many a weekend curled up in one of the holey reading chairs with a worn paperback in your hand, letting the rest of the world fall away while you were lost in a book that whisked you away on ink and paper with gentle prose. The store had started doing "blind dates," wrapping up books in brown paper with descriptors like "Will melt your panties" or "Made me realize I have a bondage kink" or "Supernatural creature hunter vibes" or "In case you're curious about what the inside of the Loch Ness monster looked like."

That last one had been a supernatural romance that you still weren't sure if you liked it or not. It had been interesting...

But you were under the impression that no one could have too many books. The books scattered all over your apartment and stacked up so high they hit the ceiling were proof of that.

You sigh to yourself cursing your thoughtful brother. "Give me a second."

When you come out of your bathroom wearing your favorite soft t-shirt and sweatpants, your brother envelops you in a warm hug, and unfortunately undoes the little relaxation you felt when you took a bath and makes you begin to cry.

Worse was that a little part of you wished that it wasn't your brother but your soulmate who was here holding you, or rather the version of the soulmate you'd invented in your head, not the man you’d seen earlier.

It made all of this worse, that you were still so alone and sometimes you couldn’t understand how you could feel so alone with so many people in your life who cared about you. But you wanted him, wanted the other half of your soul to hold you close against him, to feel the warmth of his body curving around yours as he told you that everything was going to be okay.

It hurt more than you knew it would, especially now that you knew he existed.

Sobs shake through your body as you cling to your brother and rub your nose into the front of his shirt as everything from today washes over you all over again. Meeting your soulmate again after a year, having all those feeling and emotions roll through you, seeing flashes of his memories again, and running away from him as fast as you could.

You felt lost and yet there was a voice whispering in your ear that told you that the only place that you could be found was back with the man who held the other half of your soul.

"Shh. It's alright." Hughie soothes, rubbing his hand up and down your back. "It's okay."

It was the same thing that he used to tell you when you were younger and nothing made sense, when it felt like you were a freak because of the date printed on your wrist.  The same days when you'd ask yourself the ultimate question: would it be okay?

But now you knew the truth… it wouldn't be.

Because you'd hoped and prayed to meet your soulmate every day of your life, and now that you had, you wished that it never happened, because the man who grabbed you so hard it bruised your skin couldn't be the man you imagined falling in love with when you were a little girl.

"Are you okay?" Hughie asks you.

"No." You murmur pulling back to clean your tear smudged glasses.

Hughie was still wearing the light blue button down shirt from the party, and you feel a wave of guilt crash over you thinking that you ruined his and Annie's housewarming party.

Your brother presses his lips together. "I'm sorry-" He begins to say, but you interrupt.

"I'm the one who should be saying that."

"What? Why?"

"Well I ruined your party and-"

"Are you kidding? No you didn't! That asshole did-" Hughie frowns. "I don't know what he was thinking grabbing you like that."

You swallow the lump in the back of your throat remembering the grip Ben had on your arm.

"Did he hurt you?" Hughie picks up your hand to examine your wrist, frowning at the handprint. "What a dick!"

Your brother didn’t usually get angry, he was more of a suffer in silence kind of person who kept all their emotions a little more close to their chest, but he looks livid. "I swear the next time I see him I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. He shouldn’t have fucking grabbed you like that-"

The thought of your gentle brother yelling at Ben makes a lump of worry catch in the back of your throat. You didn't want Ben to hurt your brother, he was only person in your entire family that made you feel like you belonged.

"Hughie calm down, it's okay."

It wasn't and you both knew it.

"No it's not. He could have broken your arm!" He snaps.

"He didn't." You murmur.

But he could have.

Those words are like taking a bullet to the chest. You’d seen exactly what your soulmate was capable of and exactly how he acted when he didn’t get his way.

What did I do to deserve this?

"That doesn't matter! He didn't have a right to treat you like that. Like you're-"

"His." The word comes out before you can stop it. "But I kind of am." You shudder at the confession.

Even if you didn't want Ben in your life, it didn't change anything. He was still your soulmate. Every part of him was molded and shaped for you just as every part of yourself was molded and shaped for him.

Ben was yours, but you didn't want to be his.

Hughie shakes his head. "He might be your soulmate but you don't belong to him. You're not his property-"

"I know that but-" Your voice breaks under the weight of everything crashing back down over you. "How can he be my soulmate?"

Hughie whispers your name, but you keep talking. It was coming out of you, everything that you had pushed down, all the emotions you'd had as a child, because you didn't want to keep going like everything was fine, it wasn't.

It never had been.

"Why is he my soulmate? How are we anything alike? He's-" A memory of Ben ripping someone in half comes across your mind and it makes you feel nauseous.

"I mean I-" The tears were coming fast again now, hot against your cheeks. "I waited all these years, thought that he'd never exist, thought that I was going fucking crazy staring at this damn date on my wrist and after years of feeling like a freak I find out that the man I've been waiting for is him? How is any of this fair?"

"It's going to be-"

"Stop saying that!" You shout, hands clenched at your sides. "It's not Hughie! It's not going to be okay and I'm so sick of hearing you say it. Not everyone can be happy all the time and have a perfect soulmate. Some of us are fucking stuck with a barbarian who doesn't give a shit about anyone else and kills people for sport!"

Hughie recoils with your words and you feel guilty.

You didn’t mean to hurt his feelings and you knew that your brother was here to help you, but you were just so frustrated and confused over everything that had happened today. You had no idea what was going on and what any of this meant. It all made you feel helpless and you hated feeling like that.

"He's-" You squeeze your eyes shut as if it'll make the thoughts stop, but it doesn't. "He's nothing like me! He's-" The image of a body laying at Ben's feet comes flashing through your head with him standing triumphantly over it. "He's a monster."

You hadn't said it out loud until right now only thought it. The word seems harsh, but you didn't know what else to call a person who killed and hurt other people with no remorse. In all the memories that you’d relived of your soulmate that was the ingredient missing.

Remorse.

Regret.

Guilt.

Shame.

All were things that would have made you reconsider going back to Ben if he'd felt those things after killing or hurting someone, but you didn't feel a shred of any when you watched him tear people apart with his bare hands.

You wonder if it had something to do with being tortured in the lab all those years, if being put through that changed him, but you’d seen memories of him acting just as terrible years before that happened.

"Someone like him isn't capable of feeling love! You can't do all the things he has with no remorse and still be capable of that." By now you were babbling, your voice barely recognizable from the sobs and shaky breaths you kept taking to stabilize yourself, but the truth was you were on the verge of a panic attack. Your eyes shift to your brother's concerned expression. "I'm sorry Hughie I-"

Hughie hugs you again, holding you so tight against him that it hurts. “You don’t have to be sorry. I know you’re frustrated. And I don't understand why he's your soulmate either. You have no idea what I’ve seen him do.“

“I don't know what to do.” You whisper into his shirt with a sniffle, still trying to calm the rapid breathing and beat of your heart, but nothing was working.

Because what the hell should you do?

You'd lived so long believing that you’d never meet your soulmate and even though the thought of being around him terrified you, there was another part of you that was begging you to go back to him.

The fantasy version of Ben manifests again, the one you'd imagined when you were a little girl dreaming of the day you'd get to meet the man who would complete you. Now those fantasies mocked you, every year you spent celebrating the birthday of your soulmate alone in the darkness of your apartment, every minute you spent trying to shrug off the taunts of the people in your hometown and your own parents when they saw the date on your wrist, and every second you spent hoping that it would happen to you while a little voice in your head told you it wasn't meant to be, that someone above cursed you to be alone forever.

All the hope you'd felt was a lie.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this and now that I’ve seen what he’s done I… I don't think I could ever love someone like him."

"No one is asking you to." Your brother says.

"I know that, but- He's still my soulmate."

I want to love him. A little voice deep inside said, it was the same one that was begging you to give Ben a chance, but you ignored it. You had seen the kind of man he was and you wanted no part of him in your life.

You take in a shaky breath and pull back from Hughie to examine the handprint shaped bruise on your wrist right over the golden birthdate that glows against your skin. "I'd rather be alone than be with him.”

The words hurt to admit to yourself, especially after all the years you’d spent wishing that you wouldn’t be alone and watching everyone else get the happy ending you so desperately wanted.

But none of that mattered now. Soulmate or not, everything about Ben scared you, and it didn't matter that the universe said he was yours, you knew in your heart that he couldn't be and that you'd never be able to love someone like him.

And miles away, on the other side of the bustling city that never sleeps, your soulmate sat on the end of his large bed in his empty apartment and looked down at his own wrist, tracing an ugly blue bruise that looked surprisingly like a handprint over your golden birthdate, and the first bruise he'd had in over eighty years.

A/N: Welp, I told y'all it was sad and oh my stars it broke my heart to do this to Ben. 😭 I'd like to say that the next chapter I have planned is less sad... but oh man I think it's worse 😅

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are not required, but are always welcome and appreciated! I really love hearing what y'all think. ❤️ If you'd liked to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

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[00valentina-writes00]

I was wondering if you could do something about Ambessa with a reader who is a high-ranking military officer (colonel, commander, general, captain, etc.) or someone very important. (I just need to know how she would behave towards an "equal") thank u sm! ♥

♡♥︎Unyielding Resolve♥︎♡

The war room was dimly lit, the faintest sliver of sunlight breaking through the dark curtains, casting muted shadows over the long, polished table where the world’s most powerful figures had gathered. Ambessa Medarda stood at the front, her regal stature towering above the rest. Her gaze was intense, as always, her sharp, amber eyes surveying each of the gathered commanders, diplomats, and soldiers, her voice commanding and clear as she presented her case.

“You must understand,” Ambessa’s voice cut through the murmur of debates, silencing the room instantly, “that our people cannot be left to suffer the consequences of your hesitations.”

You were no stranger to these kinds of meetings. A high-ranking military commander from the opposing faction, you had earned your place through years of fierce dedication, your loyalty unwavering, your skills honed to perfection. Your posture was rigid, your uniform impeccable, yet your eyes never wavered from Ambessa’s figure at the front of the room. There was an undeniable power about her—an edge that came from both the iron grip she held over her nation and the quiet, unspoken confidence that radiated from her every move. Her dark hair, tied neatly at the nape of her neck, contrasted with the intricate tattoos that danced along her neck and wrists, symbols of both power and sacrifice.

She was a force to be reckoned with.

But you were too.

“You seem to misunderstand the balance we’ve achieved,” you spoke, your voice calm but firm. “Your actions only tip the scale toward chaos. The people deserve peace, not your demands.”

Ambessa tilted her head, her lips curving into something between a smirk and a challenge. The amber of her eyes gleamed with something more—an admiration, perhaps, for your defiance. Your boldness was something she respected. It wasn’t often that someone stood so firmly against her, unwavering in the face of her presence

“I respect your resolve,” she said, her words slow, deliberate. “But this… peace you speak of, Commander, comes at the expense of far too many. You know it as well as I do.”

You knew that too. But in the depths of your heart, you couldn’t bring yourself to compromise on the principles that had guided you for so long. The lives of your soldiers, your people—none of them would be sacrificed for anything less than true peace. Not under your watch.

The debate raged on, tensions rising with every passing moment, but you and Ambessa remained locked in a silent contest, the weight of the room’s words falling heavy between the two of you. It was as if the entire world faded away, and for a brief second, the only two people who mattered were you and her, the room holding its breath as you exchanged not only words but a battle of wills.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the meeting adjourned. The voices of your colleagues faded as you straightened from your seat, a deep sigh escaping your lips. You were used to the weight of these discussions, but today’s had been particularly taxing. Your mind, sharp as it was, felt clouded by the lingering tension in the air.

Before you could retreat to your quarters for some much-needed rest, you felt a presence behind you. It was familiar, the quiet, confident steps that could only belong to one person.

Ambessa

“Commander,” she said, her voice low, but carrying an undeniable command. “A word?”

You turned to face her, your gaze meeting hers once more. She stood a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest, her stance proud but not unapproachable. Her gaze flickered over you, assessing you as if trying to read every nuance, every layer you carefully kept hidden. There was no malice in her eyes, no threat, just an unwavering sense of curiosity, of respect.

You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your lips lifting in a quiet challenge. “What is it, Medarda?”

“Perhaps,” she began, her voice measured, “we can discuss this matter further… without the interruptions of others.” There was a flicker of something in her expression, a softness that contradicted her usual commanding demeanor. “I find that I admire your strength, Commander. Few have the courage to speak so directly to me.”

There was a flicker of surprise that passed over you, but you quickly masked it. “And what exactly do you hope to achieve by this conversation, Ambessa? Another attempt to sway me to your cause?”

Ambessa took a step closer, her eyes narrowing slightly, her presence still as formidable as ever, yet there was something different in the way she held herself now. There was no longer any tension between the two of you, only the quiet understanding that you were both two of the most powerful leaders in the room, capable of seeing through the facades of politics and war.

“You’ve been fighting your whole life, haven’t you?” she asked suddenly, her voice soft but laced with a quiet understanding. “Against your own people, against the world around you. I can see it in your eyes, Commander. A fire that won’t go out.”

You weren’t sure if it was her words or the weight of her gaze that made your heart beat a little faster. But whatever it was, it made you pause, if only for a moment.

“I’m no different than you, Medarda,” you replied, your voice steady despite the knot in your chest. “We both fight for our people, even when the cost is too high.”

Ambessa’s lips curled into a small smile, a rare expression that seemed to soften the usual edge of her features. She stepped closer still, close enough that you could feel the heat of her body, close enough to sense the subtle shift in the air between you.

“You are,” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper, “but your fight… it’s different. There’s something in you that draws me, Commander.”

Your breath caught, the weight of her words settling over you like a heavy cloak. It wasn’t just the admiration she felt for your strength, you realized. There was something deeper, something that spoke to the very essence of who you were. And, despite the tension that still lingered from the meeting, despite the weight of your duties, there was a part of you that found yourself captivated by her.

Ambessa’s eyes flickered down briefly, as though contemplating something before she looked back up at you. “Come with me,” she said, her voice steady, yet there was a hint of something more—a warmth, an invitation. “I would like you to join me for dinner at my estate. A place to discuss… other matters.”

The invitation was unexpected, but not unwelcome. You couldn’t deny the allure of her presence, the way she commanded every room she entered, the way she challenged you, both intellectually and physically. She had caught you off guard with her quiet admiration, and now she was offering you a chance to see the other side of her—the side that wasn’t always masked by politics or power.

You hesitated for only a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing your mind. But then you realized: this wasn’t just about the war, or the meeting. This was about something more.

“Very well,” you said, your voice steady, yet there was a spark of curiosity in your gaze. “I’ll join you, Medarda. But know this: I’m no fool. I won’t be swayed so easily.”

Ambessa’s smile widened, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Commander.”

————————————————————————

The Medarda estate was unlike any place you had ever been. It was a perfect blend of elegance and strength, much like Ambessa herself. The estate, perched high on a cliff, had sweeping views of the valley below, the faintest touch of moonlight illuminating the sprawling gardens. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, with soft candlelight flickering in every corner and the faint hum of classical music playing in the background.

Ambessa had led you to a long, polished dining table, where an elaborate spread of dishes awaited. The scents of roasted meats, rich sauces, and fresh bread filled the air, their warmth promising a night of indulgence. The table was set with the finest china, silverware gleaming in the dim light, and the glasses already filled with wine, the deep red liquid catching the light in a way that seemed almost too perfect.

You settled into your seat across from Ambessa, noting the way her posture remained impeccably straight, the elegant curve of her neck as she glanced at the dishes laid out before you. Her amber eyes met yours with an intensity that made it impossible to ignore the unspoken tension between you. There was a certain weight to the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. No, it was something far more intriguing—something far more dangerous.

The meal began in silence, the soft clink of cutlery the only sound as you both indulged in the meal. Ambessa ate with the same controlled grace that defined everything about her. Each bite was deliberate, as if she were savoring not just the food but the moment.

When she set her fork down, her eyes never left yours. “So,” she said, her voice smooth and low, laced with a subtle challenge, “how do you manage it all? The responsibility, the endless decisions, the weight of your command? It must be exhausting.”

You leaned back in your chair, savoring the bite you’d just taken. Her question had been expected—leaders like you didn’t rise to power without bearing the heavy burden of their choices. But there was something in the way she asked that made you pause, something in her gaze that suggested she wasn’t simply curious. She was testing you.

“I do what I must,” you replied, your voice steady but laced with a quiet intensity. “Sometimes it feels like I’m balancing on a knife’s edge, but it’s what I signed up for. The duty to my people—it never stops, even when I’d like it to.”

Ambessa’s lips curled into a soft, knowing smile. “I can’t imagine a life without this… constant push. It’s almost… addictive, isn’t it?” Her words hung in the air, wrapped in a kind of daring playfulness that you couldn’t help but feel was aimed at you.

There was a shift in the atmosphere. Her gaze dropped briefly to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes, and in that split second, you knew exactly what she was doing. Testing the waters. Drawing you in. She had a way of making you feel seen in a way few others ever could.

“Perhaps,” you replied, meeting her gaze head-on, unwilling to back down. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the challenge. The thrill of the game, the strategy. It keeps things interesting.”

Ambessa chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. “You have a sharp mind, Commander. I can see why you’ve earned your place. But I wonder…” Her eyes glimmered with an unreadable thought. “Do you ever think about what you want when all of this is over? When the battles have been fought and the decisions have been made?”

The question was softer this time, quieter. But the weight of it hung between you like a delicate thread, a question that neither of you had yet answered, and perhaps never would. Ambessa’s eyes didn’t leave yours as she leaned forward slightly, the golden light reflecting off her skin, making her appear even more untouchable, more mesmerizing.

You paused, your fork still in your hand as you considered her words. “I think about it,” you said, your voice low, carrying the weight of unspoken things. “But I can’t afford to indulge those thoughts. Not yet. I have too much at stake.”

Ambessa studied you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, her lips curved into a small, knowing smile once again. “How exhausting,” she said, a touch of humor in her voice. “Always looking ahead, never looking at what’s right in front of you.” She took a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving yours, and the heat in the air between you only intensified.

There was a certain magnetism about her. A quiet, unspoken tension that seemed to pull you in, urging you to confront the very things you’d been avoiding. For someone who was so composed, so measured, there was an underlying ferocity in the way she carried herself, in the way she spoke, and in the way she watched you.

The conversation shifted then, as you both continued to discuss tactics, strategies, and the political landscape, but beneath the words was an unspoken current, a thread that pulled you both closer together despite the careful control you both maintained. It was a dance—one of words, of glances, of unvoiced challenges and flirtations that neither of you dared fully acknowledge.

Ambessa’s voice was smooth as she spoke of her nation’s defenses, detailing her strategies with the kind of ease that came from years of experience. “I’ve always believed in being unpredictable,” she said, a hint of pride in her tone. “Keeping them guessing, ensuring they never know what’s coming next.”

“Sounds like something I’d say,” you replied, your smile playful, but your gaze locked on her. “It’s the only way to keep an advantage.”

Ambessa tilted her head, her expression softening ever so slightly. “I admire that,” she said, her voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t play by the usual rules.” She paused, then added with a faint smirk, “Perhaps you and I are more alike than I realized.”

The statement lingered in the air, the weight of it undeniable. You leaned in slightly, your voice quieter, more intimate. “I’d like to think so. But, of course, you’d never admit to that, would you?”

Ambessa’s gaze never faltered as she leaned forward too, her lips curling into a smile that was as dangerous as it was alluring. “I never admit to anything I don’t want to, Commander. But I’m willing to consider that… maybe I’m wrong.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension between you both was palpable, crackling in the air like electricity, the unspoken challenge hanging thick between you. The world outside the estate seemed so far away in that moment, as though nothing existed except the two of you and the carefully woven web of words you were spinning.

Ambessa broke the silence, her voice a low murmur that made your pulse quicken. “Tell me, Commander, do you ever think about how all of this could end?”

Your lips parted to reply, but her gaze, intense and searching, held you in place, as though she could see right through you. And in that moment, you realized something you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge before: there was more to Ambessa Medarda than just power, more to her than the commanding presence she projected to the world. Beneath the surface, there was something darker, more complex, something that resonated with you in a way you hadn’t expected.

You leaned back slightly, your tone softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t know how it ends. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wonder… if you and I could find a way to work together after all of this.”

Ambessa’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and for a split second, the air between you two was thick with possibility. Then, she reached for her wine glass, her fingers brushing the edge delicately before taking another sip. Her gaze never wavered from yours.

“We’ll see, Commander,” she said quietly, her voice both challenging and inviting. “We’ll see.”

And with that, the night stretched on, the conversation continuing to unfold between you two like the unraveling of a carefully constructed puzzle, each word, each glance pulling you deeper into the web of intrigue she had woven around you.

————————————————————————

[whatifitis]

♡ 150 reasons - LN 4 ♡

Summary: 150 reasons why lando loves you

Author's note: idk i thought it'd be nice

CW: literally just fluff

Hi baby!! :D

I saw this trend on tiktok just now and wanted to do it for you. I love you a lot and you know how hard it is for me to show it sometimes. I thought this could be a nice small way to at least show you a bit of how much I love you. My love for you knows no boundaries. <3

P.S. if there’s any misspelings dont say shit cause im dyslexic and you know that :(

Your smile

Your eyes

The way your eyes sparekl all the time

Your rosy cheeks

Your wavy hair (you hate it but u love it)

Your heart

Your brain

Your patience with evrything (including me)

Your honesty

Your inteligence

Your humor

The way you’re always there for anyone. Doesnt mater if u know them well or not

You always listen to people and help them when they need it even if your tired

You challenge me and help me become a better person

You never judge me

You make me feel safe

You believe in me, even when idont

You inspire me everyday whether it’s work related or just life in general

You’ve seen teh good and the bad in me and you still love me

You laugh at all my jokes even if they suck

You’re my best friend (🎶you can hear it in the silence🎶)

You respect my space when i need it, even if i go about it awfully (when writing ‘about it’ i accidentally wrote ‘tit’ :I)

You give the best fucking hugs 

When i get anxious, you always help me, even if it’s just when you sit with me and help me breathe 

You took the time to learn about me and my mental struggles so that you could help me better

You make life so much more better 

You remind me that i’m worth more than i think i do

You chose me

You make me blush and happy

Your music taste is amazing as well (btw i got us tickets to see Noah Kahan)

You’re like my personal google and dictionary

You get along with my family

My mum loves you (i think she loves u more than she loves me ngl)

You get along with max and you mock sometimes and it makes me laugh so much

You stay even if im mean and dont deserve it

You sacrifice a lot

You always put others before you 

You don’t mind my gaming (even when i keep you up late with my screaming)

You always listen to me talk about the things i like 

You hold my hand in public (it sounds stupid but it makes sense ok so shut it) <3

You never give up on me

You bring out the best in me

Max said he hadn’t seen me so happy until i met you

You make me feel lucky to have u

You support my career and stuff even though it gets really hard sometimes

You make the bad days better

You make everyday better as well, not just the bad ones

You never make me feel bad or ashamed about feeling certain ways

You always validate me when i need it

You never lie to me

You always tell me straight up when im the one in the wrong

The way you smell

The way you look when u see me

The way you hold me tight even if i’ve just raced singapore and am sweating out of every crevise

You stay strong for the both of us

Your attitude

Your kisses

You’re always down to play video games with me (IM SORRY FOR IT TAKES TWO I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS HARD)

The way you call me your love

You stand up for me even when im not deserving of it

Your cooking skills

The way you play with my hair

How we’re able to joke with eachother

The way you tell stories

The way you talk in general

How funny you were when telling me about work and snot shot out of my nose 

You match my freak

Your singing (even if its off key sometimes)

You never doubt me

U dont mind my clinginess (sorry about scaring u in the shower the other day as well)

You never tell me to go away

You always communicate with me

You plan things for our future

When you send me vlogs when im away (or even when im home but youre at work)

You make my heart feel full

You’re consistent with loving me. Whether you’re sad or mad or happy or anything, you still love me the same

Youre never too busy for me

The way we can just sit in silence together and do nothing but still have fun

The way you help me pack when im getting ready to travel

The way you pack my favorite snacks for me when im going away for a while

We can share victories together, big or small (lol big or small, ya know, like dicks)

You never make me feel alone

You watch stupid ass movies with me all the time

You dont get mad at me when you try to teach me to play valorant (it’s fucking hard, csgo is better anyways)

The way your face lit up and you started talking faster when you were talking to me about your favorite artist

The way you speak to me so gently when i need it

The way you make a playlist for every mood possible

The way you make a playlist for every book you read, even if the book was bad

How you insist we don’t have enough driving playlists so we always make more

The way you introduce me to new things (i still wont try fish, screw that)

Youre adventurous

You put up with my shananigens

The way you made a million stickers on whatsapp

How you always say ‘i love you’ with the ‘i’

When you tell me goodmorning and goodnight even if youre mad at me

How you help me dress better

How u kiss me in a way that screws me up forever

How you always ask me about my day

How you always put your leg on mine

How you show me how forever feels

How you put up with my stupidity (I REALLY THOUGHT THE MATTRESS WAS GONNA HELP)

You’re gonna be an amazing mum someday

How you spam me with tiktoks

Your laugh is the best sound ive ever heard

Youre beautiful inside and out

How u were able to make me laugh even after i’d poked by hand with a knife when i tried cutting an avocado

How you helped me escape the bed sheet when we discovered my new found claustrophobia

How you always rep mclaren and quadrant merch

How you always make backed goods and make them healthy sometimes so i can still eat them

How when we’re out and you can tell im anxious

And when you realize it you find small ways to ground me like holding my hands or tapping my foot with yours

You love the pictures i put in the new digital frame (you cant lie and say u dont like yassified alonso)

If im hungry in the middle of the night, you join me in snacking or ordering a whole pizza

How you know you’re lactose intolerant but still eat dairy filled foods

And how you lock me out the room when you have to deal with the aftermath of eating dairy

How you're already naming our future children

How you laugh til you cry at 3 in the morning from watching tiktoks 

And waking me up to watch them with you

How you get so excited when talking to me about the last book you read 

How you tell me about the book theories you hear and your own theories (violet’s mom was definitely venin)

How when u find me snacking in the middle of the night, you don’t question it

How we have dance parties in the living room

How you quote random things all the time, especially tiktok sounds

Your love for musicals

How you say “me and boq” every 5 mins

Your unconditional love for not just me, but everyone 

Your love knowing no boundaries

The way you didn’t get scared away when faced with so much hate and shit when we first started dating

Your strength

How you learned the “wait, they dont love you like i love you” thing in different languages

Your high streak on duolingo

Your creativity

Your piano skills

Your love for celsius (although it’s not good for you and you should probably slow down on them :( try coffee instead)

How you and my mum go shopping together all the time

How you’re invited home more than i am…

Your dedication to work

Your work ethic (it’s not the same as the reason above)

Your vast knowledge of everything in Marvel

How you interact with the fans

How you show me off in every way possibel (i might've said this already)

How you help me with quadrant shit

How you give me a room tour anytime youre somewhere new

The light you emit

The way you make everything so much brighter

How you always try to learn new things (we should try tarot reading again, that one was fun and we can scare the shit out of max with it)

The way you never let go no matter what

The way you always give back to people

The way you live everyday like it’s the last

The way you love me and hold onto me

[parrishagnostictendencies]

thank you so much for the tag, @no-eyes-yet-but-vibing !!!

Favorite color: I like a lot of them but I'm a red/orange/purple kinda guy

Currently reading: I just finished "One hundred years of solitude" (I hope that's how it's in English but if not, "Cien años de soledad" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez) and I'm planning on reading the bible just so I have context on the analysis I read on religious symbolism

Last song: "What about love?" by Heart

Last movie: I honestly don't know, I don't really watch movies often and at most, the last one I've seen must have been at dinner or something bc my family always has the tv on for eating

Last series: Los Simuladores or "The Pretenders" maybe, this is another one I don't know the name for english speakers but oh well, I'm now on season two with my mom and even though it has its icky moments (since it's a very old series from Argentina on the year 2002) the concept is very interesting

Sweet, savoury, spicy: salty JDBCKFNVKFNC but also I like savoury and spicy stuff, I can live without sweets unless it's something very specific and not too sweet

Craving: to hang out with my best friend bc I have so much to tell her about but I want it to be irl, besides, we've still got a project to do regarding a mock adoption center for rocks

Tea/coffee: I'm more of a tea person but I like to drink coffee from time to time

Currently working:

- I'm doing a 1000 piece puzzle with my mom rn, the only reason we haven't finished it yet is because it's on a table outside and with the heat these days we've been postponing it...

- There's many things I still need to finish reading (fanfics and books alike) so I have to get on THAT

That's about it! I have a lot more stuff left to do, rather than anything I've actually started

Tagging:

@notcoffeguy @ronanlynchusurper @kateisnthereatall @theprettiestar @landoposition @juvinadelgreko @ronanlynchdefender @syrmaluna @batedible obv there's no pressure!! this was very fun 🫶

rules: tag nine people you want to get to know better

Tagged by @indrid-hot - thanks a bunch!

Favorite Color: A nice, warm, sunny orange - but also honestly most other colors of the rainbow and then some.

Currently Reading: The Tevinter Nights Dragon Age short story collection.

Last Song: L'appuntamento - Ornella Vanoni

Last Movie: Ah, gosh. HM. I haven't watched anything that's not a TV show in a while. I semi-voluntarily caught the last fifteen minutes of Scrooged over the winter holidays I guess?

Last Series: Last series I watched any part of is, as always, "Emergency!" because I will never not be stuck in 70's paramedic hell. If we're talking new-to-me shows, a friend's making me watch Grey's Anatomy (early seasons) once a week, probably because observing my growing despair about the characters' poor life choices is fun. I don't even normally watch medical shows, and yet here we are lol

Sweet, Savoury, Spicy: Savory if I had to pick

Craving: Some good spaghetti with olive oil and obscene amounts of lightly toasted garlic.

Tea/Coffee: Yes please, lol

Currently working on: OH BOY WHAT A QUESTION.

Spinning: Gotland on my spindles (4-ply, one single per spindle, for funsies - except I accidentally mixed up which bits of fiber go with which single on which spindle, so that'll be fun to sort out...), 7oz/200g of red Merino on the wheel (for a crochet hat, followed by 9.5 oz of red and black Merino for a woven scarf). But also 24.5oz/700g of grey Merino. And cotton on the supported spindle. And I've got some laceweight viscose on the mini turkish spindle that I should really work on...

Crocheting: Half a dozen things, including a lacy collar that needs buttons and blocking, a gigantic star-shaped wrap-around shawl, an incredibly boring granny square top for my little sister, and too many others to count.

Art: The Emergency! tarot as the eternal never-ending WIP; I also have some Dragon Age Veilguard related plans revolving around the Grand Necropolis and irl Catacomb Saints and I'd love to get some DA-style tarot cards done for all my player characters.

Writing: I still have a couple unfinished fanfics that need another chapter, as well as two deeply self-indulgent OC/Emergency! crossovers that friends are making me write, and I also have some Dragon Age stuff in the works - though if anyone will ever see that is another question entirely.

Music: Practicing various stuff for LARP; also slowly chipping away at Hozier's Work Song because my partner asked nicely.

With no pressure, I will tag: @geminyde, @caseyscraftycorner, @swords-n-spindles, @alpacazappa, @rosesonneptune, @rose-of-pollux, @zooarchaeologyatdinner, @kalikatze aaaaand I can't decide on a 9th person to tag so whoever wants to do this: You're It!

[twistedpink]

Could i req childhood friend ace who slowly goes through many stages of im just feeling this way because theyre my super good friend and then realizing that thats not very platonic of him to think about them as hes laying in bed in the middle of the night wondering what its like to kiss them (can be spicy if youd like since adolencence and hormones 🤭) the slow realization after his denial of oh shit thats not the kid next door whom im besties and play with everyday but an actual grown up person that id like to pursue a relationship with

Cuttteeeee!!!!

Bestfriend!Ace’s known you since your teeny tiny days. Taking baths together, building mud pies and whatnot- Your parents thought you were adorable, and did everything from threatening teachers to boycotting clubs just to keep you in the same activities,, At least until it got weird. Sharing a bed for sleepovers is fine until someone has to wash their hands at midnight in the family bathroom :/

Bestfriend!Ace that’s the worst, but you can’t help loving him.. All your new friends in junior high insisted that he was a bad influence, going out of their way to avoid him in the halls, but what they don’t know is that you’re just as bad!! When all your spelltimes end and your homework’s done, Ace is the one knocking at your window for an icecream run, and he wouldn’t have it any other way <3

Bestfriend!Ace doesn’t understand why you’re getting so much attention! Guys in your class just come up to him, asking for advice on how to get it. He doesn’t even register what there is to get until the summer before he goes to college- He realizes you’ve changed. Muscle in places that weren’t there before, soft skin where tweenage acne used to thrive. He realizes you’re hot, like, REALLY hot! And he has no clue what to do with that information, because all he remembers you as is a play date,, (God, what’s he supposed to tell his mom??)

Bestfriend!Ace that watches trash tv and house sits for you just to be in your presence,,, For his pride you’re required to ignore your shirts and deodorants going missing, it’s not his fault you’re so scatterbrained! When you catch him sleeping in your bed after a busy week, it’s impossible to kick him out. Just look at that face!!

Bestfriend!Ace texts you constantly during the school year, and there’s still so much to fill you in on! Why not make up the lost time with a couple sleepovers? His dexterous hands steal away your blankets in the night “accidentally” until your only option is to cuddle up,, You hardly notice the sniffles against your neck and the rosey tint of his cheeks in the darkness. He just missed you so much- Even he, a world renowned mage of the modern age, can’t help but get a little sappy,, Won’t you help a buddy out? He forgot how cold your room is :)

Bestfriend!Ace loves you, but won’t admit it for a lonnnnggggggg time. How’s it any of your business, anyways? Have you always been this nosey? For now, he’s content with your movies and songs, but it’s never too late to “practice” kissing with a friend! He can’t help but stare when you’ve started looking so good while he’s away- Keep sending him those selfies and he’ll start getting homesick,, So long as you don’t make it weird, he’d like to have a nice, relaxing bath with his best friend when he’s back. Just like old times! <3