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#no build a bear should EVER go for $500

acertainmoshke · 9 months

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Summer fest question: So I was reading about Cold Iron and it grabbed my attention because I'm going to be playing a Changeling soon in a World of Darkness game!! Do your Fae look human? Or do they have something distinctly Different™ about them? Do they have any dealings on Earth? Or do they only leave the faerie realm to retrieve Changelings?

@roll-for-twig

Oh, thank you for this question! They do not look remotely human. But because they're beings of magic more than genetics, there is little logic in how they do look beyond being (usually) humanoid. Fae covers an entire genre of beings, so there are exceptions--Fae that are more animalistic or have no easily recognized shape and instead hide and call you away from safety. And there are pixies, who mostly look like humans except for being tiny and with wings.

But the Fae mostly focused on in my stories are the ones of European legend that trick humans, make bad deals, control them with true names, and steal their children. They come to the human realm less often than they used to because it's so very permeated with iron that makes them sick. They do still show up sometimes for deals and trickery. Humans are wiser about this than they used to be, but there are always desperate people. They can get away with "stealing" children because it's not stealing by their definition. Most things require a deal, a transaction, something given in return (even if the meaning is twisted).

The exception is if they voluntarily leave something which is so valuable no contract is needed--such as their own child. The rules are that it must be their own, not another Faerie child. Thus, the ones left are usually ill and weak already, and with all the iron in the world now, the often die young naturally before their human parents ever know they weren't the original. Fae glamour the babies to look human, but that begins to wear off so that by 10 they are usually clearly something else. If they don't die on their own, many more die of neglect or even abuse at the parents who discover a monster living in place of their child. Very few make it to adulthood, but there are those that do. Their aging slows down around puberty, between 11-15 or so, so that they end up living between 300-500 years. Fae in their own realm without the weakening influence of iron can easily live to 1000. The flipside of that is that changelings are both weakened by iron but also build up some immunity so that most things, especially if painted, don't burn them if touched for a short time.

Oh, I forgot to do the actual description part. So they are generally humanoid, 2 arms and 2 legs and 1 head and between 3-8 feet tall. But anything else is up for debate, and they don't bear any resemblance to their parents. The might have skin like bark or like bone or like rock. Or like human skin but in any number of unnatural colors. They might have a hollowed out back with a vine where their spine should be. They could have horns, antlers, leaves for hair, cloth for hair, no hair at all.

Also, notably: although much of their aesthetics have to do with nature, and much of their homeland is made of wild woods and marshes, their magic and culture has nothing really to do with it.

I hope this helped! Feel free to ask me any more questions, and have fun playing a changeling @roll-for-twig

#moshke writes #writeblr #cold iron

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sullustangin · 2 years

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Alive

Time: 21 ATC/3631 BBY

Rating: PG

Words: ~2000 (first 500 above the cut)

A/N: This has been clawing its way out for awhile. I found some free time at work to do this. :)

Marcus Trant had lived in dread of the day that he would lose his best agent.

That day came. It didn’t happen as he had expected it, sudden and violent. No. It was a much longer, more attritional process.

Eighteen months had passed since that morning. Trant had to confess there was a gaping hole in SIS where that agent had stood.

Trant had not imagined this would feel so close to death, a loss so permanent.

These were the grim thoughts that flew around his mind as he made his commute from his latest apartment that he shared with his latest wife. Spring had been permitted to arrive in the Coruscant biodome. The cool morning was warming up, and the dew from the night before was evaporating, slowly. After so many years and so many missions he couldn’t talk about (mostly because nobody else had survived to remember), Trant felt the cold and the wet in his bones. His life came with aches and pains that nobody understood.

No, he had understood. But he was gone now.

Trant had lost his best agent and the only Republic operative actively engaged against the Eternal Empire. The end had been inevitable.

Theron Shan believed in the future. The Republic was wallowing in the past, picking the same old fights with the Sith Empire. They preferred to squabble over whose mud was nicer to choke on as the Eternal Empire ground their faces into it, rather than throw off their conquerors.

Theron Shan believed there was more to existence than this. There were more people that could and would fight if it wasn’t under the Republic banner.

And so he resigned, less than three years away from his pension and a comfortable, deserved retirement. (Trant had hosted a convalescing Theron twice in his home, and oh, how his second wife had scolded him for putting that poor boy through all of that.

For the Republic.)

Jace Malcom had had to be talked down in the middle of a diner before he put out an all-points intergalactic bulletin.

Marcus Trant knew Theron didn’t want to be found or saved. As Director of SIS, he should have considered him an enemy combatant or, even better for Trant, dead. If he was dead, Trant could live with just the memory of some kid that wasn’t around anymore and didn’t make him worry.

…Trant remembered the first time he saw Theron at Coronet City Military Academy, in his own world, executing a gymnastics routine that should have been impossible for a normal teenager. It would have been easy for a Jedi.

Theron was no Jedi, but he put the work in to make it seem like he was flying with help from supernatural forces (Forces?).

Theron had still held on to the tiny hope that he would be a Jedi, even at sixteen; he’d asked Trant on the transport to Coruscant whether SIS had any Force-Sensitive agents. Just in case, you know.

“There’s always a first.”

He couldn’t bear to be unkind to him and risk wasting that talent or dimming that light (Light?).

Trant had to admit there were parts of Theron that would always adhere to those high standards of a devoted order and a vision of the bigger picture, beyond just Republic vs. Empire. It was, in the end, impossible to make Theron a soldier that took orders without question. Trant had admired his perseverance and his creativity.

Theron made Trant go white, then bald. It was worth it. He’d saved the Republic, more than once.

Best agent Trant ever had. And he was gone. Good as dead.

Why, then, by all the stars, was he delivering intel to a dead man? Trant gripped the small piece of luggage by its handles and walked quickly past the SIS building instead of turning and flashing his credentials at the door, as usual.

Theron had referred to “it” as ‘potentially, the greatest con of all time -- or so my associate tells me.’

“It” had been the grand plan he left the Republic for. Left Trant and the resistance they had stoked, two men standing against the odds, against an adverse galaxy.

Trant was jealous. He wanted to fight the war, but duty -- the same duty that had compelled Theron to stay for four years, that made him work on the endless lists of dead and vulnerable Sith assets and military gaps....officially.

Unofficially, Trant and Theron were classified as a terrorist cell for slicing into sensitive information and undermining Zakuulan authority. The government didn’t know who they were.

And then Theron was gone. He continued the work, for himself. Then… for a new player in the galaxy.

Trant thought “it” was propaganda. A ghost story. A lie, bartered and resold, tarted up and trotted out. The Outlander had escaped the clutches of Emperor Arcann, and now she and her resistance would save the galaxy.

Trant knew Theron believed in the future, and he would lie as needed to convince people to get off their asses and move. It had surprised him, though. Theron didn’t believe in victory at any cost. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t blaspheme the memory of someone --

.... someone. Someone that had been in Theron’s life and had tried to remain.

Someone that had to be dead.

Trant had wondered whether he understood love at all, after three ex-wives, two kids that barely spoke to him anymore, and one agent who had people constantly walking out of his life and had become too cagey to let someone in.

Eternal Fleet had cost the Republic a valuable asset, and it disrupted the equilibrium of one of its best agents. It was a mortal wound, bleeding out over the course of four years.

And then Theron was gone.

Marcus Trant consulted his chrono. An encrypted comm had come from, supposedly, Bespin. Trant knew the code used – from the Mandalorian films that got Gary promoted. Only three people in the galaxy had ever bothered to learn that code to transmit messages. One was dead. One was Trant. One was Theron. The message offered an intel exchange: massive amounts of data on skytroopers and their variety of permutations. It wasn’t enough for the Republic to start production on its own, but it was enough to make more efficient weapons to destroy them. In exchange?

A blind eye to certain planets... certain activities...certain rumors. And maybe some spare confiscated goods at a few starports across the galaxy -- just some fodder to make friends and influence people.

Trant started to wonder whether this was blasphemy or an actual miracle.

He was going to find out. He’d agree to the exchange, on the condition that ‘a known entity’ take the drop. They’d agreed on a tram stop, not far from SIS. They would be ‘recognizable.’ No disguises.

It was simple. It was so brazen and bold that nobody would expect it. Nobody would believe it.

Just Theron’s style.

Trant had crammed a fistful of antacids into his mouth as he walked out the door.

Now Trant readjusted his grip. Theron loved risk. Risk gave Trant ulcers, and here he was, potentially committing treason in the hope that this insurgency had a better shot at toppling Zakuul than he did, running a one-man show now in SIS.

Trant served the Republic. Theron had always served the greater galaxy. Trant knew Theron thought less of him for being willing to sacrifice a few planets in the name of the Republic and the great propaganda it would generate; Theron had never hidden that disdain thereafter.

It was another thing Trant admired him for.

Trant sat on a bench at the tram stop, suitcase in his lap. He waited.

Time passed.

The trams came and went every fifteen minutes, seven-and-a-half minutes for each direction.

Three trams. No engagement.

Trant was pretty sure he’d gotten stood up. That, or he was about to be made by some secret police force of Saresh – apologies, Chancelor Maddon.

Well, this wasn’t the worst way to get his burn notice, Trant supposed. He had some credits on him, could get some distance, maybe even back to his apartment to all his burner IDs and ----

A flash of red caught his eye. Trant realized it had always been there, riding the waves of people that came and went on the tram platform on the opposite side of the tracks. No, not on the platform itself – it was in outdoor seating area for the caf shop, appearing and disappearing and appearing again as people rushed by ---

Why hadn’t he seen him before? He’d been looking out for him since he was a kid –

Trant began to wonder whether it was time for him to call it a day on his career, even as he got up and hauled himself out and around the tram station to get to the correct side of the tracks. His silly ass had wasted 20 minutes while –

Trant paused under the shop awning. From his vantage point, he could see the owner of the red jacket clearly now.

He saw the profile of a familiar head, hair pomaded in an effort to contain would-be curls, managing them at the wavy stage. Trant should have known that. How had he --?

And then he saw Theron move.

Different. The movement was different, the body language was different –

Trant realized he’d never seen Theron with a partner before – professional, romantic, or otherwise. Theron was always alone.

Not today.

Theron was –

Trant felt the ripple of shock, but he was better trained than most of his own agents; as he had told Theron ages ago, he wasn’t the Director of SIS just because he could do paperwork and look cute. He checked any impulse to gasp, only flexing his fingers around the handle of the suitcase.

The asset was alive. Theron wasn’t peddling lies to save the galaxy.

Eva. All those other names she went by, including Outlander. But Eva, the asset, Theron’s asset, was most pertinent here.

…Eva was apparently not dead. Dressed in ballet flats and one of those long sweaters, she looked like a generic brunette from Coruscant. She was having midmorning caf and pastries with her –

Something was still alive enough to flutter inside Trant when Eva laughed at an amusing comment Theron made, and she reached to touch him. The touch was received with a smile, and then with all ease and affection, he leaned just far enough to brush his lips over her cheek – a gesture equally well-received and then returned.

It was nothing special. It was nothing out of the ordinary. This was normal for most people on a caf date with their lover.

Trant hadn’t recognized Theron because he’d never seen him like this. Happy with someone, completely absorbed in her, just as much as she was in him.

Maybe Trant understood love after all, because after the initial surprise, everything in the universe made better sense.

Once that final piece of intel clicked into place for him, Trant was all motion and guile. “Hey. Theron.”

Smoothly, as if expecting it, Theron turned his head to look at Trant. He grinned in greeting, eyes briefly bouncing to the suitcase before returning to Trant’s face. “Guess that’s all my stuff from my desk I forgot to clean out?”

“You guessed it. Consider the bag a going away present.” Trant lifted his chin to acknowledge Eva. “Ma’m.”

“How’s tricks, Marcus?” she replied airily, and Theron choked on a laugh, somewhere between shocked and amused at her audacity. It had always been “Trant” or “Director Trant” for him.

“The usual. How’s that new business you started?” Trant set the bag down, halving the distance between him and Theron. Theron tucked the suitcase under the table and went back to drinking his fancy caf.

“It’s going,” Eva answered. “I got one of the best project managers in the galaxy. Resources are a little hard to come by, but nothing I haven’t scraped through before.”

“Considering you stole my best man, I better hear good things about you in the near future.” Trant looked pointedly at Theron as he said this, and the younger spy gave him a smile.

Eva, turned in her seat at the chime of the tram station chrono. “Hey, tram’s almost here. We should probably get this one, get to the new site early for set-up.”

“You’re right.” Theron shotgunned the last of his caf, then grabbed the suitcase.

As Eva grabbed her caf in its little to-go cup, Trant took the spare moment to really look at Theron as he and Eva exchanged brief chatter about plans and lies about what they were actually doing on Coruscant.

Alive. Theron was most certainly alive.

“Catch you around!” Theron slid his hand over his implants, paying the fare, and the tram gate opened for him and Eva.

Trant realized they were really leaving, almost belatedly. Impulsively, he offered the closest thing to an affectionate farewell he could, in the circumstances. “Do me proud out there.”

Theron stepped onto the tram and set down the suitcase case. He tossed Trant a cocky look. “I can do better than that.”

The door slide shut between them, and Trant laughed. He let himself watch the tram pull away, Theron holding on to the commuter bar overhead, and Eva hanging onto him. He saw them exchange words, knowing smiles on their faces…

Yeah, he would do better than that. Always did.

#swtor #swtor fan fiction #marcus trant #theron shan #theron shan x smuggler #oc: eva corolastor

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veronicasanders · 1 year

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I've spent the better part of yesterday afternoon convincing myself I don't need a mini wok station or a raclette grill, tell me about something you don't have any way to justify buying but you just want anyway? Either bc it sounds fun or kind of neat or bc you just always wanted it :)

First of all, you DEFINITELY need the mini wok station. The raclette grill—I guess it depends how much you love raclette. 😂

Second, the problem with me answering this is that I usually just buy stuff when I feel like it. So instead, after the jump, I’ll tell you about some of the insane, impractical purchases I’ve actually made. 🌈

I think the first one that comes to mind is a custom-painted, Drag Race-themed tea service for 10. It’s like 52 pieces, and it’s displayed in a lighted cabinet. I love it and I’m thrilled that I have it but…I mean yeah, it was objectively insane. I’ll DM you some pics if you want. (In my defense: I was on Percocet and having a bit of a bipolar meltdown.)

I used to buy literally everything I ever saw on an infomercial until I just decided that for my own sanity, I can’t watch infomercials. Those purchases included wrinkle cream when I was 16 because “it’s never too early,” a Montel Williams blender which we only ever used to crush ice, and a thing called an “egg wave” to cook eggs in the microwave. Which btw is the grossest way *possible* to cook eggs but I was living in a dorm with no kitchen at the time, just a microfridge. (And we were forbidden from having hot plates because of fire safety.) Anyway. I don’ watch infomercials anymore.

A gym membership that I used approximately 5 times in the 3 years I had it and the only reason I canceled is because I got a new credit card so I didn’t actually have to call them.

Dr Fluffernutter himself. The man, the legend. It started when I wrote a god like him into Galactica and then got jealous of my character's fictional dog. And I love him to pieces but it was objectively too much money to pay for a dog. Also, the way people in LA gave me SHIT for not getting a rescue from a shelter. But in fairness to me…he’s VERY cute. Like, so much cuter than any of the dogs I saw on the rescue websites. No offense to those povo dogs but...just not my style.

I ALMOST bought a new car when I was having my bipolar Percocet meltdown, but didn't. Responsible? Totes. She's learning.

Except that a year or so later, I spent about $500 on Build-a-Bear clothes for Doc. Like, there's so much that he has to have his own closet. So I guess I also bought an entire Ikea wardrobe for my dog. But look, I don't have kids!! And what's the worst that can happen from spoiling your dog? It's not like he's gonna grow up to be a douche who buys a social media company and runs it into the ground...

Lastly...when I first moved here to Sweden, it was really hard to find housing that would allow the dog, so I rented a room from this guy. And it was fine for a little bit but long-term, it was not the right situation. And it was SO hard to find something so I just bought an apartment. In cash, since I don’t have a full-time job here and so I don’t qualify for a mortgage. Which was pretty much all my money but on the plus side, now I own an apartment and I can sell it when I want to move. The only issue is that I don’t know the rules for taking money out of the country. I should have looked into that but…it was a cute apartment in a cute building in a cute neighborhood so I didn’t really have time to think too hard. 🤣

I don't think I can top "an apartment" but in terms of shit I definitely don't need but WANT, I do have my eye on a painted lady style dollhouse. Come on, LOOK HOW CUTE:

Plus you an get so much adorable stuff to put in it. Fruit and veggies, sushi, little teeny condoms so that your dolls don't get knocked up. A TINY DOLLHOUSE TO GO INSIDE YOUR DOLLHOUSE!!!

Really the question here is, how do I NOT buy this??

#walking down the glittertrail #why did this take me all week?#well #it was the week from hell so that's probably the main thing #love you though #BUY THE MINI WOKS!!!!!!#MINIIIII WOOOOOOOOKKKKKKKS!!!!!!!!!!!

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bitchyllittlebimbo · 1 year

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the-firebird69 · 1 year

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We are now opening up "American Eagle Motorcycles" to allow for distributorships and there's paperwork online and so forth regarding what you can and can't do and what your responsible for doing it's more or less if you buy a certain number of bikes you get a discount and I believe it's 10 or above. Yes, it's ten. It's a decent discount and with every purchase of 20 more you get a full tool chest with 10 you get the small tool test with every purchase unless you don't want to take it and then we give you a percentage discount above the first 10 and we have a procedure for you to become a full-blown dealer. We also give away all sorts of things in the contest when you buy bikes when you buy a bike you enter a contest to win something and it's apparel or or a wristband or more watches and full blown leather jackets and leather pants and boots and helmet and goggles and face gear and more neckerchief even wallets and small purses. We have a full gamut of things that were giving away this is really a big point this dealership offer.

We also completing our line in other words we have bikes for everybody like Harley-Davidson used to dirt bikes Enduro a series of smaller bikes like the sportsters which are not really small but we have a series of smaller than that and it's not real small it's like the Harley-Davidson 500 but it's much smaller cc's and yes we went and made the 125 again but that has about 35 horsepower which is 5 horsepower less than the Sportster which weighs almost three times as much and it sounds the same if not better and it looks the same it's a little bit bigger tank and it is a different tank than the others but it it doesn't really cool and he calls it the Eaglet as it's for beginners riders and to start off point for street riding. We're working on a sportbike been trying to figure out what to do and we're going into testing and research I'm going to make it look like our bikes and have the emblem and more and yeah we have a full line of bikes and we have a trike and we have trailers for bikes and trikes and we have off-road trailers for real and we have an off-road trike I'm working on a quad and we should have that pretty soon it's going to have tires that are similar to the fat bear but not as big they still have those abilities

Frank Castle hardcastle

Bring me in one of those eaglets will you I want to take a look at it. I agree with the idea we don't want to lose market share and a lot of people are not huge it'll suit people who are 4 ft to 5 ft 5 or so and it's great for a beginners who are teenagers or women or people who just shorts who haven't ridden ever or people who have never ridden on the street it's an ideal bike for that. Been able to scooter it's under the same company with a different name but the same emblem will be on it but real small and it's going to cool probably like the ice bear we're rolling on all these bikes right now it's a big company already and building these new bikes is not a huge deal but we want to test them and research them and we're going to have events too big ones out in Motocross territory and street bikes there as well I'm going to do it very soon and yeah Siemens was a big hit and we're doing a home Depot this Saturday it's a huge hit and it's going to be massive. Give me a call from a movie theater that wants a custom chopper and they want to represent your company with it and what we say is we will make the custom chopper and we might make a whole ton of them to put in their lobby for people to enter to win maybe the contest would go on for a couple months and you buy a ticket and you can enter the contest by buying a certain number of amount of items at the refreshment stand and they kind of like that because it will promote the refreshment stand

Thor Freya

We're getting the order and request now and they know that we're a production by company and we mass produced bikes as well as custom bikes and they're going ahead and ordering us to build it to see if they approve it we're going to do that and we'll do the presentation shortly maybe this Saturday but we will be really pushing it I'm going to try for next week then we're going to get an idea of the AMC culture in the differences and he says it's really nice theater and there's differences in it that are noticeable so we're going to go ahead with it

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lundgaardlindholm76 · 2 years

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wincore · 3 years

Text

romeo roulette | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

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

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

words: 21.2k

warnings: language

song recs: playlist here !

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

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

Jung Yoonoh. Get your act together.

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

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

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

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

This whole charade dates its beginning to a week ago.

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

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

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

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

“And I get what out of this?”

“Me? Temporarily, that is.”

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

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

“Wait!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll ask Doyoung if you say no.”

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

“I really will ask him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

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

“On one condition.”

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

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

“No way.”

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

You stare at him, weighing the odds.

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

Jaehyun shrugs.

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

You mutter the last part.

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

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

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

“We have an agreement,” he repeats.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You should." You glare at her.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," Sicheng mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Literally what I just said," Soojin says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “Man, I feel bad for him.”

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

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

You gasp. “Is it me? It’s me, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow. “So?”

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

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

“Hey. Professional,” Soojin warns.

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

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

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

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

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

“Shh. What if they hear us?”

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

You huff, crossing your arms. “Still…”

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

“Your acting was shit though,” you snipe.

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you headed to?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, the sweet summer child that Dongmin is.

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

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

“—Around ten minutes left.”

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

“That sounds like a load of—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle. "Alright, handsome."

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

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

“What do you mean, baby?”

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

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

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

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

“You think you’re so—”

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

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

“Don’t say a word, Yoonoh.”

“Ooh, you’re saying my name now.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I find it plenty funny.”

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

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look so smug.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes.

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

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

“You guess? I’m pretty sure I look more than nice.”

“And how long did you look at yourself in the mirror and practise catchphrases this time?”

Jaehyun’s ears turn the shade of cherries and you press down your smile. You knew that time you caught him talking to himself in front of a car window would play to your advantage.

“What’s that you’re holding?” you ask, eyeing the plastic bag he’s holding.

“Ginseng,” he answers, staring blankly at the cars passing by. “I heard the couples therapist is in his sixties so he might find it useful.”

“Oh, old people stuff,” you muse quietly. “That’s quite thoughtful of you.”

You should’ve brought something, you think for a moment before realizing that couples probably don’t give separate gifts.

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

You shake your head. “Anyway, we might as well kill some time. Twenty questions. Let’s go.”

He laughs. “What are we, in college?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Don’t make us sound like we’re thirty. I bet you’re the kind of guy who has his retirement plan figured out.”

“Wrong,” he emphasizes, face leaning closer.

“Fine. I’ll start the questions, you unsalted block of butter. How many relationships have you been in?”

Jaehyun opens his mouth and closes it, ears turning red. “That’s your first question?”

You roll your eyes. “Okay. I’m guessing it’s single digit and on the lower side.”

He rolls his eyes. “How many relationships have you been in?”

You shut your mouth. There’s a moment of silence, a breeze passing you by, carrying winter away in its arms to make room for spring.

“Never found a relationship worth it,” you mutter, glancing away.

Jaehyun hesitates before opening his mouth. “Me neither.”

“Good thing for us, eh? Love makes people crazy.”

Jaehyun faces you with a clipped smile. Never did you think Jaehyun from marketing would be relating to you on a personal matter.

“Oh, but I’ve had enough hookups and I can bet you’re mediocre at best in bed.”

Jaehyun glares at you. “I am not and I can prove it to you.”

“Is that an invitation into your bed? No, thanks.”

He opens his mouth to retort but is interrupted by the Hyundai Grandeur pulling up to the sidewalk and rolling down the driver window to reveal Doyoung. He looks as overworked as usual, but his eyes are more tired, a bit of makeup covering the dark circles. You’ve heard his soulmate is a makeup artist for an idol group and wonder how they even came to be. Does fate throw darts randomly and pick its choice?

“Get in. Quick,” Doyoung instructs. “I have to drop you off and head home. My family is visiting. I didn’t even get a warning and they think I’m in a gay relationship with Taeyong because we still have our friendship rings from college.”

You want to laugh and agree but Doyoung looks rather pissed off so you hold it in. The two of you do as told, getting in the backseat and shutting the doors in sync. The car smells rather leafy mingling with the scent of fresh clothes and you eye the jar dangling from the rear-view mirror. You open your mouth to ask what scent that is when Doyoung’s voice rings out.

“What’s that?” Doyoung signals to the bag with Jaehyun.

Jaehyun looks down. “Ginseng extract.”

“Oh, the gift pack?” Doyoung asks.

Jaehyun nods and Doyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “If that’s for Mr. Lee, forget it. He hates gifts. Something about inward appreciation and shit.”

Jaehyun groans, massaging his forehead. “What do I do with this then? Is this guy a priest?”

“Give it to Doyoung,” you suggest. “His family’s visiting.”

You hear an audible hum of approval from the driver seat and turn to Jaehyun making a face of reluctance. Maybe he isn’t so magnanimous after all, you think smiling.

“You’re both quite tame today,” Doyoung remarks, just when the silence is starting to swallow the inside of the car. “Makes me wonder if you need Mr. Lee after all.”

“We actually don’t…” You shake your head. “We’re here and it’s free so why not?”

Jaehyun shoots you a questioning look. It’s not like you can cancel when you’re in Doyoung’s car and already on the way. You’ve known your boss long enough to know the wrong answer to his questions. You look outside at Seoul streets and sigh.

Jaehyun looks at you, your focus elsewhere and wishes this would end already. He has no idea what overcame him to accept your ridiculous offer but he must be just as ridiculous. At the very least, he finds you quite lovely to look at—not that he’d ever admit it to you. The foundation to this weird bickering friendship (if he can call it that) would be ruined by that. His ego, however, has been boosted up a few notches from the fact that you called him for help. He looks outside the window, holding back a smile. It’s a sunny day.

The therapist, Mr. Lee’s office building is a fancy one with an even fancier lobby. Baby pink leather couches cushion your bum nicely as you wait for your appointment. The architecture is that of a corporate firm and you feel quite at home with the large glass walls by the revolving door. This therapist guy must be rich as hell. The receptionist wears a formal uniform; her blouse is light pink with a grey pencil skirt and you like the look of it. You wonder if asking her where she bought it is time-appropriate. More couples sit around you and you, unfortunately, have to scoot closer to Jaehyun as a result. You do not want to catch that disease they all have. Why are they even here for therapy if they’re smiling at each other in that sickly enamored way?

Now that you’re here, you’re starting to feel that this arrangement was ill-decisive. You should’ve done a better job of acting. You wonder if you can get a refund for that college course on acting, pouting as the ticking wall clock gets on your nerves. Even the marble floors are pink; the walls are mahogany red and there’s a heart-shaped wall clock, and should you glance around more, you’re going to nauseate yourself. This guy certainly takes his job seriously—or just really likes pink-red themes.

A woman in her early thirties exits the elevator and announces your names, and you click your tongue at the fact that she used Jung for your surname. It sounds distasteful.

You follow her, starting to get nervous. You really hope this Mr. Lee isn’t as good as Doyoung says he is. Your fraud falling apart within three days is too embarrassing a defeat, not to mention bordering on illegal if found out. What the fuck does the government care about broken hearts and beneficial relationships? It’s so nosy. You understand the financial situation in case of happily bonded soulmates but apart from that, there really shouldn’t be this much discrepancy in the name of love.

Love drives people crazy. You’d rather not lose your good sense in the name of something so inane. After all, money makes the world go around, not love.

Restricting a gag at the deep red heart on the door, you push them open with Jaehyun to find an old man sitting on a similar baby pink couch as in the lobby. He gets up to greet the two of you, the wrinkles on his face deepening when he smiles. Despite everything, he has a sort of grace to him, the one that comes with growing old elegantly. An upbeat song plays on a record player attached to the wall, although at a very low volume, and the tune reminds you of Animal Crossing.

“Doyoung told me about the two of you,” Mr. Lee says, gesturing at the two of you to sit down. “How long has it been since you found out?”

“Six days,” you answer at the same time Jaehyun answers, “Four days”.

The two of you look at each other.

“Four-Six days. We didn’t keep track.”

“Ah,” Mr. Lee says. “How do you propose to celebrate your anniversary?”

You hesitate opening your mouth and declaring that you don’t really need to do that crap. Mr. Lee notices your expression and breaks into gentle laughter.

“I’m kidding. Anniversary dates don’t matter,” he laughs. “It’s okay to celebrate your 100-day on the wrong day. Don’t worry.”

You purse your lips. To your dismay, Jaehyun isn’t as bothered by the sickly pink environment and Mr. Lee’s relaxed demeanour.

“I have a hundred percent success rate,” Mr. Lee assures the two of you, looking directly at you.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” you mutter under your breath and get a nudge from Jaehyun, who has his politest smile on.

You can’t believe Jaehyun has a better customer service mode than you do. If you didn’t know him, you’d be fooled into thinking he’s the nice guy character every office has. Unfortunately, that one goes to Dongmin. You hate getting stuck with nice guys (unless they offer financial stability).

“I think Doyoung might have been exaggerating,” Jaehyun explains calmly. “Whatever he told you.”

“He told me the two of you have a bickering problem. And staring at each other when the other isn’t looking.”

You cough. “That is not true. The staring part.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you. “I knew you were checking me out,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes. “Keep dreaming, Jaehyun.”

Mr. Lee laughs. “Your bickering seems to be quite affectionate. I don’t know what that boy was worried about.”

You press your lips together into a thin smile, annoyed that anyone would ever describe your interaction with a man as affectionate. It makes you feel like an idiot. You were always better off alone—the universe was wrong to assign Dongmin to you. Maybe you needed to see the apparent love of your life clearly in love with someone else to snap you to reality.

“However, what is a playful lover’s fight in the beginning can turn into real fights.”

“Right,” you mutter. “It’s all fun and games in the beginning.”

“The two of you have almost no animosity—you’ve known each other before you discovered the soulmark, right?”

The two of you nod, having already reconciled yourselves to this session. It’s a one-time thing, you tell yourself. It will be over soon.

“The soulmate information shouldn’t influence the relationship you already had. If anything, it should be drawing you closer. First time awkwardness is common.”

He’s starting to sound a lot like your high school sex ed teacher. You get the idea to pretend to be sick and get out of this early.

“Company policy too,” Jaehyun mutters. “Unofficial company policy makes office romance out to be some sort of sacrilege.”

“You know, I was the CEO of your company so I do know the policies,” Mr. Lee says, smiling in the confident, reserved way senior citizens offering wisdom do.

You choke on the water you were taking a sip of, a coughing fit overcoming you and Jaehyun hesitates before awkwardly patting your back.

“Huh? CEO? I’m sorry?” you manage.

Mr. Lee lets out a loud, hearty laugh. “I stepped down two years ago.”

“That’s when I joined,” you and Jaehyun say at the same time.

Mr. Lee smiles at the two of you wordlessly. “I have an idea for the two of you. Why don’t you try turning your ‘I’s into ‘we’s? Do some activities together and when you talk about it, you’ll find yourself much closer.”

You narrow your eyes. “You know, Mr. Lee, I’m a little curious about your relation with the company—”

“My recommendations won’t help you get promotions faster.”

“Dammit.”

Jaehyun chuckles beside you but a glare from you turns it into a suppressed smile. The one thing that wouldn’t be a waste of time opened its door and closed it right back.

“But you know how promotions work,” you press, leaning forward.

An alarm rings, so pleasant in tone that you know it’s a Samsung. Unfortunately, it’s the ugly flip model and you question Mr. Lee’s taste (and wealth).

“Oh, look, time’s up,” Mr. Lee announces, and you think you catch a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Jaehyun springs up before his ears turn red, embarrassed by the gusto with which he himself got up and looks at you expectantly. You get up, sighing.

“Next time, Mr. Lee,” you warn. “I will get those details.”

“I charge by the hour.” He smiles.

“Stop threatening the therapist,” Jaehyun mutters to you, taking your arm and turning to leave.

“Oh, and,” Mr. Lee calls. “It’s always better to be honest than to pretend.”

You blink in surprise when Jaehyun tugs at your arm, bowing in thanks and leaving the room with you.

“Was it just me or did he see through us?” you whisper to Jaehyun.

He shakes his head, whispering back, “There’s no way he could tell. He’s probably referring to something else.”

“Like what?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

“Tell me, are you always so domineering towards strangers even?” he asks. “I just thought you liked to press my buttons because I’m easygoing.”

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not as cool as you think you are, especially since you get so hot and bothered by me.”

“It’s just you,” he whispers earnestly and your pulse rises. “No one else.”

You cough to kill the awkward silence and walk faster to the elevator. Jaehyun follows at a leisurely pace and it’s never occurred to you before but the sound of someone’s footsteps can also be annoying, proof currently standing beside you.

The elevator doors open, and much to your appallment, a young couple happens to be full blown making out inside the elevator, hands where there certainly shouldn’t be in broad daylight. Jaehyun whips his face away, clearing his throat loud enough for the couple to detach themselves from each other and hurriedly exit, fixing their clothes on the way.

“So he wasn’t lying about the success rate,” Jaehyun states quietly, a look of resigned horror on his face.

You can’t even respond for a few moments, following him into the elevator and shaking your head to get rid of the thought that inevitably jams itself inside your head. It might have a point, however.

"Maybe we should kiss too," you think out loud.

Jaehyun stiffens, looking at you with wide, fearful eyes. "No."

"We have to kiss, we're dating!" You exclaim, hands on your hips.

"We're not actually—ah, whatever. It’s not worth bickering with you."

"Why? Afraid you'll fall in love with me?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, and you’re suddenly aware that your bickering keeps drawing you closer to each other, your faces nearer than you’d realized.

"If anything," he starts with a confident smile. "You better not fall in love with me."

"Oh, please. You're taking this way too seriously."

"You're the one that wants to kiss me."

Your cheeks heat up. "You're- I- That's not—argh, fuck you."

Jaehyun looks smug, and you have the unstoppable urge to punch it off his face. You take a deep breath. Violence is not the way, (name).

“If we were a few years younger, you’d be begging for mercy under me,” you seethe.

Jaehyun’s eyes shift over your face in confusion, ears burning bright red with each passing second. Before he can open his mouth, you let out a short yell.

“Not like that, you pervert,” you say, leaning away from him.

“I didn’t even say anything. On an unrelated note, were you a delinquent in school?”

You roll your eyes. “Kind of. I had a temper and a sharp tongue.”

“And now you’re a people pleaser. That’s quite the development.”

You smack his shoulder. “You’re getting on my nerves, punk.”

He makes an ‘oh’ with his mouth before smiling. “You totally did the delinquent accent.”

“I’m guessing you were the shy, little boy who flushed red at conversations about kissing.”

Jaehyun clears his throat in annoyance. “I was not. I was quite popular in high school and college, you know?”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “It’s that face of yours.”

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

“Oh, look, we’re on the first floor.” You exit the elevator, leaving a puzzled Jaehyun to follow in stumbling steps.

“I don’t think Doyoung’s picking us up,” you state. “You take the bus? Or do you have a car to flex? I don’t ride in anything below a Tesla, unless it’s Doyoung because he’s technically my boss.”

“You’ll have to do with good old rented Hyundais,” he answers.

You exhale. Maybe he’s getting used to you. The bus stop is opposite the building, the structure squeaky clean and a bunch of people waiting on the seats. It’s a busy place and you wonder if the scammy-therapist-slash-your-former-ceo’s business has anything to do with that. You sit the first chance you get, shoulders pressed against Jaehyun’s for the lack of space and admiring the passing traffic. Seoul really just depends on the lenses you see through. Work days make the screen tinted grey and blue and you hate them often but some days, it’s good to experience those. Weekends are brighter, sunny and usually not with Jaehyun but he doesn’t really put a damper on them either.

You scan his side profile, a little envious when you realize that his confidence isn’t misplaced. You might have trained yourself to be more of a pleaser over the years but he’s the sort of person people come to like naturally. Moreover, his skin is perfect and his hair is always looking styled even in a mess. Fate and Life are partners in crime when it comes to being unfair.

Jaehyun turns to look at you and you snap your head to your lap, turning on your phone and staring at the homescreen for a good few seconds.

“Twenty questions,” Jaehyun announces. “Let’s play again. I’ll go first. Do you check me out when I walk away?”

“What is this, playing my own cards against me?” You scoff. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“So, yes or no?”

“Sometimes,” you mutter. “But it’s not the good kind of checking out. I’m checking out how terrible you look with your mess of a tie.”

Jaehyun laughs, the sound a hearty rumbling sort and you can’t help but smile back at that. It’s kind of cute when he laughs—the sound of it and the way his cheeks are dusted pink.

“My turn,” you say with a cheeky smile as you lean in to whisper. “Have you ever had a wet dream about me?”

Jaehyun chokes on air, coughing out the surprise as he stares at you dumfound. You stick the tip of your tongue out and throw him a wink, thoroughly enjoying this victory against him. It feels great to fluster someone like Jaehyun.

“No,” he says with clear emphasis.

“Even the night you said I was so unbearably hot very loudly to Sicheng?”

Jaehyun leans back sighing, covering his face with his hand. “I was tipsy. And it was my first night out with coworkers. Give me a break.”

You giggle. “Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. There were worse incidents that night. An intern threw up on Doyoung’s shoes—I can’t even imagine the horror the poor girl experienced.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling through his hand.

“Have you ever sent nudes?” you ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

He sighs. “Maybe. Have you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

He curls his lips. The answer seems to be no but you’re at least seventy percent sure he would be attracted to you in a world where your personality traits weren’t being nosy and annoying.

“Do you think you’re a good kisser?” Jaehyun asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Definitely.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You cross your arms.

He shrugs, leaning in slightly as though flirting (if he had the audacity). “We could test that.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “What happened to no kissing in the contract?”

“It’s not officially there.”

You roll your eyes, glancing away. “You know, I’m starting to believe you were some sort of desperate fuckboy in college.”

“I- I was the hottest dude on campus and if we went to the same college, you would be pining after me. I literally had the Campus Prince title and girls would follow me to see me in class.”

He crosses his arms, a frown tugging down his lips.

“Ooh, Jung Yoonoh’s getting fired up,” you say in a monotonous voice. “Wonder how many girls you pulled with your chewed up fuckboy dialogue.”

Jaehyun scoffs but he clearly finds your accusations amusing, as hinted by his unbothered smile. He asks a question again.

“What’s more important to you—truth or happiness?”

The question catches you off-guard. Jaehyun’s eyes are delicately curious, nothing too strong and even so, you find yourself holding your breath under his gaze.

“Huh?”

“Twenty questions. We were playing?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“Right.” You clear your throat, rubbing the back of your hand. “I… I’d choose happiness, I think. I’m… I’m not sure.”

“Really?” He doesn’t look too hellbent on taking apart your answer so you breathe out. He’s starting to pry into you finally. “I think the truth will make you happier.”

“That’s not- that’s not always true.” You look away, hoping the quietness of your voice ends the conversation there. You don’t know how to talk about it—you never really have. You’ve ugly cried over the lack of your love life to a stranger after five shots of whiskey but you don’t think you can talk about things like this sober. You don’t even know why you answered. Jaehyun makes you feel oddly comfortable.

Jaehyun shrugs, getting up when the next bus halts in front.

“What did you major in?” you ask, following him.

“Business,” he answers before thinking. “Kind of hated it. But I started out with IT and that was somehow worse.”

You gasp, taking a seat beside him on the bus. “I started with IT too! It was a nightmare. You took that Database Management course?”

Jaehyun smiles. “It was like the course equivalent of reading the back of a Wi-Fi Router.”

You laugh. Maybe he isn’t so different after all.

“You know, you do look like a business major,” you hum, furrowing your brows as you pretend to scrutinise him.

“So, you’re indirectly saying I either look like a rich kid or a jackass.” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“They’re both the same thing.”

The laughter from the two of you makes an old woman behind you grunt in displeasure and the two of you apologize. It’s nice to talk like college kids again. The Seoul sunlight shines on Jaehyun’s face and you bite back a smile when his dimples appear. They aren’t all that bad. If you get along like this, there’s no reason to worry about fate and the universe and other superfluous things offered to you on a boring old ceramic plate. It’s a smooth ride.

Your eyes drift to Dongmin’s workspace instinctively and you shake your head. This is exactly why you were avoiding him and even started the entire fake relationship with Jaehyun. You’d choose fake dating a (good-looking) chump from management over embarrassment and possible heartbreak any day.

You groan internally before glancing again and find the desk empty. Surprised, you blink and turn only to scream at Dongmin’s figure behind you.

“Shh!” he says urgently. “Don’t move. And don’t panic when I say this but there’s a bug on your shoulder.”

“What the fuck? Get it off, please,” you say, voice choking up.

Dongmin rolls up a stack of papers and you let out a low screech. “Don’t kill it on my shoulder!”

“Sorry,” he says and your eyes soften as he gently pushes the paper against your shoulder and takes it away. You breathe a sigh of relief and he signs you a thumbs up as he wiggles the paper in the air outside the window.

“You saved me,” you say, smiling.

He returns it, his most beloved eye smile making you wonder if you made the right choice. Wouldn’t it be fun to just crash everything and watch it burn? You know you want to. Benevolence and grace were never your style. However, it’s his smile again that stops you. Maybe you don’t really want to be the bad guy after all. You’re sparing him from confusion and dread.

You’re sparing yourself from rejection and inevitable loneliness (yay).

It’s been a week, discussing details with Jaehyun before the both of you collectively decided to just wing it and hope you’re not caught. After all, there’s no real way to prove you’re not soulmates if you’re careful enough (the same way you can’t prove someone’s cheating if they’re careful enough but that’s quite a depressing analogy). Perhaps if you renounce the soulmate benefits (and Dongmin didn’t smile as often at you), it would be less morally taxing. You, however, are greedy. When you want something, you’ll do anything to get it.

You stare at the computer screen and sigh, cross checking the employee records for incorrect data and your eyelids start to droop. Of all the days, you just had to be assigned the most boring task on a Friday. You also should’ve gotten sleep instead of getting mad at Jaehyun’s dry responses to your plan of action. It was perfectly viable; unnecessary, but perfect nonetheless.

Soojin rolls her chair backwards into yours. “We’re going drinking tonight. Wanna come? You can bring your boy-toy too.”

You roll your eyes. “As much as I’d love to call him that, he’s still the chump from marketing for me.”

“Or,” Soojin emphasizes. “Your actual soulmate. How lucky is it that you work in the same building, in the same company?”

“I’m not sure if you’re being ironic.” You scroll through the database with trained eyes.

“I’m not. A lot of soulmates don’t even get to see each other because of their line of work. It’s so tragic.”

You’d be glad if you didn’t get to see Dongmin ever too. But you’ll keep that to yourself. You hum in response and hear a sigh from behind you.

“Let’s have fun,” she whines. “Is Jaehyun that much of a downer? He’s one of the hottest dudes in the building. I thought you’d be cheery.”

You pause and think to yourself. She does have a point. You’re definitely supposed to look happier. Your soulmate has the looks of a model and fifteen year old you would fawn over him no doubt.

“It’s the work,” you answer. “I’m working overtime to compensate for my rent.”

You work overtime anyway because you hate heading home to an empty apartment.

“Ah, you signed a new lease, right? Near Songpa?” Soojin looks at you with pity and pats your shoulder. “You know what? I’ll treat you to drinks tonight. You deserve a day off, missy.”

You smile. “Thanks, Soojin.”

“And,” she adds in a singsong voice. “The love of your life is here.”

You furrow your eyebrows before tilting your head and almost sighing in exasperation at the figure of Jung Yoonoh outside the glass door. He may not show it, but you know distress when you see it. You’ve seen enough squirming undergraduates at company interviews.

You quickly get up from your seat, praying that he didn’t mess something up. However, you find it cute when he looks like this, the urge to fluster him even more presenting itself to be rather tempting.

“I think you have a sick obsession with me, Jaehyun.” You cross your arms after closing the door behind you.

He exhales, closing his eyes for a moment before taking your arm and pulling you away from the door.

“Woah, this isn’t high school. You can’t just pull me into a corner to make out.”

Jaehyun’s ears flare hot red and he clears his throat. “You’re in high spirits today.”

You weren’t, actually. Somehow, teasing Jaehyun gives you the same rush as caffeine. You just love when the nonchalance on his face turns into discomposure.

“I came to give Doyoung these files. Or you, since you’re practically his assistant.”

You ignore his comment. “There’s clearly something else.”

“The team sports event is coming up,” Jaehyun starts, hesitating. “I’m not managing it this year. I have to participate.”

“So?”

“So Dongmin has a higher chance of finding us out. What if he sees my mark in the changing room and it all goes to shit?”

“Great! He’ll think you’re his soulmate and I’ll be spared from this nonsense.”

“I’m being serious. It’s already difficult living with Sicheng and having to change with my doors locked. It’s kind of suspicious.”

“Do you guys sleep naked with each other or what?”

“No, but I do sleep with my shirt off.”

“Ugh. Why would you give me that image?” you complain. The image isn’t bad per se but it’s not what you need right now.

“You clearly liked it,” he mutters.

You furrow your eyebrows. “You’re not doing this just to give me a load of unnecessary anxiety, are you? Do you know how swamped with work I am?”

“No, of course not,” he answers, no indication of which question he answered. “Also, is there a reason Soojin’s glaring at me?”

You wave your hand in dismissal. “It’s just the haven’t-warmed-up-to-coworker’s-new-boyfriend glare. Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t seem too relieved but you have more anxious thoughts invading the privacy of your Friday evening. You have to keep up your composure. It could happen one way or another, perhaps in a situation better than a team sports activity, but you have to figure it out. You reject your soulmate anyway—the same way he would.

Glaring at Jaehyun one last time, you get back to your desk. Jaehyun looks at your receding figure and finds himself checking you out, the largest blow he’s taken to his dignity. He shakes his head, breathing in and out. This is so not like him. He’s supposed to be the suave, handsome guy who people can’t seem to get to and yet—yet, you do it so easily. It’s unfair. He swallows his heart and tells himself he’s too old to feel this way. He’ll just drown himself in work and pretend love is a commodity like everyone else with a corporate job is supposed to.

“You know,” Soojin starts when you get back. “Jaehyun kind of looks high if you look at him long enough. Weed is illegal though but who knows? Maybe he’s a bad boy deep down after all.”

“Which rumour have you been paying attention to now?” You sigh deeply.

Soojin laughs. “It’s funny to hear everyone’s opinions. Even if most of them turn into scandalous tall tales.”

“Anyway,” she continues. “I’m clocking out. I’ll get Jaehyun to take you to the sake bar.”

You look at her, puzzled.

“You’re a matching set now,” she follows up and you groan.

“Don’t give me that cr—”

“Toodle-oo! Let’s have some fun before we’re grey and old, eh?”

You sigh and nod. Maybe you should look into a caffeine fix, even if it costs you a mental power outage at the end of the rush. It’s not like you to be so down on a Friday but alas, Fate is as miserable a woman as you are. The sake bar is starting to sound good.

Or, you could always watch a few ASMR cooking videos instead of staring blankly at the employee records. Either way, this Friday better improve by tonight.

“This is going great,” Soojin says, louder than she probably intended after her fourth shot.

“Of course it is,” you mutter.

You haven’t yet had a chance to drink more because of two reasons: one) Soojin is hogging the alcohol and two) it would be embarrassing to get drunk in front of Jaehyun. Adding to your misery, Soojin has been gushing over her soulmate and the way she always makes breakfast for Soojin, listing off every single recipe she’s made. You would love to listen but you’re a tiny bit past your limit.

“Wooh, Jaehyun, you look hot,” Soojin whistles, in more of an older sister manner. “I can almost see your tattoo. Why don’t the two of you show us at the same time and we can take a commemorative picture?”

You cough loudly. “Mine’s on my waist, Soojin. I’m not ready to expose skin.”

“Right. Sorry.” She turns back at lightning speed to bother Dongmin with her stories, who smiles at her politely. It seems so genuine that you’re slightly enamored with it for a moment. There’s Jungwoo from marketing beside him, some more HR employees and thankfully, no interns. Doyoung is the only one partly miserable in the lot, talking into the phone for half an hour now.

“Shit.” Jaehyun nudges you and whispers, “I forgot about the tattoo. This T-shirt makes it very visible.”

You look at him, alarmed. You fix his jacket, startling him, and pull the zipper all the way to his neck, making sure to backhand him on the chin.

“There.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“What do you want me to do about it? God, you’re like a child.”

“I’m like a—okay. Just cover my tattoo with foundation or something.”

“You think I carry around a whole bottle of foundation?”

Jaehyun blinks, deeming it safer to keep his mouth shut.

“Okay. Fine. I have an idea. Come to the washroom with me.”

“Oh my, this isn’t your making out in the corner type of thing, right?”

You glare at him and he shuts up, following you quietly to the surprisingly clean restroom. The fact that it isn’t gendered makes you very glad. You make Jaehyun sit on the low enough basin counter and push your knee against it to balance yourself as you take out a permanent marker from your bag.

“I hope Doyoung doesn’t fire me for sneaking away,” you mutter angrily. “He didn’t even make me receive his calls all day.”

Jaehyun scoffs lightly. “Please, Doyoung adores you and your work ethic. He talks about it more than what I need to overhear. That and Taeyong’s detailed aquarium maintenance rules.”

“He does?”

Jaehyun clears his throat and you hold back bombing him with more questions till you’re done with painting an arrow into his tattoo.

“Isn’t it weird?” He looks at you with round, curious eyes. “Yours is a heart. Mine’s a pierced heart.”

“Hm. Funny coincidence.”

“Do you have to sit on my lap for this?”

“I’m not sitting on your lap,” you hiss. You are kind of close. You train your eyes on his collarbone as you pull his neckline down.

It would be so embarrassing to be caught like this. You’d rather be caught making out with someone in the broom closet. You hold back a pained sigh. Jaehyun has some nerve speaking to you when you’re already annoyed with him. Couldn’t he just have worn his business attire? Why does he get to go home early? Taeyong is far too lenient a boss. You start swearing internally, getting nervous when you think about the consequences of your actions.

“Has anyone ever filed a complaint against you?” Jaehyun asks, and you nudge his chin upwards to draw the line on his tattoo.

“For what? Being perfect and successful?”

“For that attitude. The ‘take what I want’ attitude.”

You roll your eyes. “No. You’re saying it like I’m awful to the core for trying to take what I want. I haven’t got such a bad soul, you know, as souls go. You wouldn't write articles about how good a soul it is but… it’s well enough.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow and you avert your gaze from his eyes. This sort of proximity shouldn’t be bothering you, you shouldn’t be rambling.

The door opens right then and in a fit of panic, you do the unthinkable. You press your lips to Jaehyun’s and pray that whoever walked in has no idea who you are and more importantly, can’t see the permanent marker in your hand.

“I’m so sorry!”

You know that voice. You half regret it when you hear it. Dongmin exits the bathroom as quickly as he entered and you pull away to look at the empty space. Beside you, Jaehyun stays so still that you forget he’s there for a moment. You breathe out in relief though part of you still feels a heavy ounce of regret.

You turn back to Jaehyun and find his doe eyes soft and lost in thought.

“I get it now,” Jaehyun whispers. “It must hurt. That he doesn’t care about the system.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That he’s so reckless about discarding you.”

You separate yourself from him further, standing up and brushing your clothes. “You’re overstepping.”

“Sorry,” he responds quietly.

There’s a pause.

“Did you just kiss me right now?”

“Shut up. I didn’t want him to see us and especially this.” You wave the marker in front of his face.

“You just kissed me in a fit of panic. That’s the first time I’ve seen someone respond to panic this way.” Jaehyun looks a little too smug.

“What are you implying?”

“You wanted to kiss me.”

You scoff. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

You want to knock the smile right off his face but you stick to flicking his forehead, his yell of surprise satisfying. This Friday night was supposed to get better. In fact, you are going to make it better if life won’t. The soju won’t drink itself and you deem that Soojin has had enough.

Ignoring Dongmin’s confused look, you order far too many soju shots to be considered healthy. As you promised yourself, you are going to make this Friday better.

You just had to go and get drunk. Jaehyun stares at you, blinking slowly and wondering just how much you can embarrass yourself before it becomes a burden for him. He has to get you home; you’re practically a matching set now. But are the halves of a pair supposed to take care of the other when they get drunk?

“You know what, guys?” You announce, standing up abruptly and immediately getting pulled back to your seat by Jaehyun. It doesn’t stop your mouth however.

“I hate the stupid system,” you continue. “To tell the truth—”

He smacks his hand over your mouth. Jaehyun has had enough of the silent mini heart attacks you give him. The rest look at him with puzzled looks and he can’t even bring himself to give them a polite smile before dragging you out of the bar. The night breeze is cold enough—maybe it’ll sober you up.

"You're so annoying, Jaehyun," you mutter, massaging your forehead. "Did you know that?"

Or maybe it won’t.

"Never heard that before."

"How do you always keep to yourself and still be the center of attention?" You cling to his arm for balance.

"Have you considered that maybe a polite man isn't as scheming as you think he is?"

You curl your lips. "Stop using big sentences. I hate that I barely know you, and I know everyone."

Jaehyun purses his lips. "You just enjoy the power that comes with figuring people out. Don't you?"

"Whatever you say. I want life to be a nice and smooth ride but then again, I can't even face my soulmate." You let out an airy laugh. "I didn't really need one though."

Jaehyun laughs in disbelief. "You look like you're dying of loneliness."

"Ooh, that's a big claim, Yoonoh."

"You say I keep to myself but what about you? You like hiding, don't you?"

You laugh. "Is this the part where I say we're nothing alike?"

He purses his lips, shaking his head in dismissal. He's just tired of chit-chat with someone who smells like she robbed a liquor store in Itaewon.

“You must think I’m some sort of selfish, vapid, work-obsessed overachiever,” you continue, tilting your head with a blank look in your eyes.

“Well, not exac—”

“But guess what? Your opinions are invalid, Jung Yoonoh. You’re just some chump from marketing. A very good-looking chump but still.”

Jaehyun swears under his breath as you fling your arms open in the same manner a speech-giving patriot fighting for freedom would. Unfortunately, the freedom struggle is private in this day and age, and you just smacked him in the nose instead.

You sigh deeply and he looks at you again, warily now as he holds his nose.

“You’re not exactly wrong either. I’m so empty. Like a bottle of soju with no soju. Could you bring me some?”

Jaehyun massages his temples and solidifies his resolve. He’s had enough stares from people on the sidewalk. With delicate concern, he holds you up with one arm around your waist, balancing your weight evenly so you can stand. Promptly, you bury your face into his neck and an embarrassing, high-pitched squeak evades the filter of his mouth. You’re just so adept at making his days (and nights) worse.

Jaehyun tries his best to carry you to the parking lot without any signs of struggle but good lord, are you uncooperative. Once he’s down lugging you to the passenger seat, he breathes out in relief at long last and makes sure you don’t fold in over yourself dozing off the seat. Getting you to sit up, he finds himself smiling the slightest bit at your smudged lipstick. Even like this, you’re quite pretty.

Realizing what thought came over him, he shakes his head vigorously as if he’s committing a horrible crime. He just has to get you home—Soojin had texted him the address prior to the outing just in case—and then he can go back to pretending whatever he even is supposed to.

The sports event is really just HR and Management trying to one-up the other in a more quantitative way. You’re not really fond of the sweat and heavy breathing that comes with physical exertion if it’s for the sake of competition. Competition is such a childish, masculine way of handling things, especially emotions.

HR is leading in wins, however and that means you have something to rub in Jaehyun’s face. You hate participating but you’re not allowed to opt out without a medical certificate. At least one competition, and you had to choose the three-legged race. All these potential partners, and Dongmin had to choose you.

“I’ll win,” you tell Jaehyun, stopping by him once you exit the changing room. The indoor stadium is usually a recreational facility for senior employees but on sports day, it’s closer to a gladiator arena. The seats are green and occupied by grinning employees, most of them glad for a day off but also upset they don’t get to attend their personal affairs in it.

Jaehyun stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Shouldn’t it be a ‘we’? You need a partner. Oh, are you sad you can’t pick me?”

“Not at all.” You cross your arms, annoyed at his mock pity.

Right then, Dongmin jogs up to you in a blue tracksuit. His hair sticks to his forehead because unlike you, he takes sports very seriously. Jaehyun, on the other hand, just seems to enjoy the competition. As a guilty pleasure, you’d like to see the two of them compete one day. That would be a competition worth betting on.

“I’ll have to borrow your soulmate.” Dongmin laughs. “The race is starting.”

Life strikes again with its poorly timed irony.

“Don’t mind me,” Jaehyun says politely.

The race is easier than you thought it would be considering most of the other employees struggle with teamwork. You’re the HR team for a reason. But then again, you feel a certain hollowness pervade you while you’re pressed to Dongmin’s side. Wouldn’t it be nice?

All you can think is that Dongmin and you are perfectly in sync. The realization comes off as sad despite your victory and the wide grins on both of your faces.

Jaehyun purses his lips and gives the two of you a nonchalant look. He’s avoided getting caught in the changing room quite well. For some reason, he’s glad that you’re winning but also dissatisfied about it. He would certainly feel different if he were participating in that race, wouldn’t he? He would win. Losing a competition is a huge blow to his ego. Lately, he seems to be losing a lot of races. The two of you have been growing closer and he doesn’t mind late night discussions about flawed systems and childhood memories; but the fact that you’re growing on him is something for him to be on edge about. He’s never felt so close to someone, and still so far.

“Oh, they have good chemistry, don’t they?” Doyoung comments beside Jaehyun, before taking a sip from his bottle.

“What chemistry?” Jaehyun snaps and Doyoung almost chokes on the water.

“Chill out, man.” Doyoung eyes Jaehyun’s figure in concern. “She’s like officially yours.”

Jaehyun refuses in a series of sputtering responses. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not jealous. I’m not that kind of man.”

“I didn’t paint you as that kind of man either,” Doyoung mutters before speaking up. “But love, Jaehyun. Love’s a weird thing.”

Jaehyunn ignores his comment and walks down to the grounds, jogging up to you. He immediately forgets to say anything at all. Smooth move, Yoonoh.

You just stick out your tongue at him subtly.

“I told you we’d win,” you say.

Jaehyun crosses his arms. “Congratulations. I thought you, quote, hate this stupid competition for dunces.”

You clear your throat and Dongmin laughs beside you. Before he can offer his bottle, Jaehyun offers his own in a rush. You raise an eyebrow but don’t question it.

“You guys really are a perfect pair.” Dongmin laughs. “Sometimes I wish Mijoo was my soulmate.”

You give him a pitiful smile. There go your happy feelings of victory.

“But I’m happy this way.” Dongmin nudges your shoulder with his. “Don’t give me that look.”

That is not the look he thinks you were giving. You smile.

“What about this? We can go on a double date! Those are fun, right?” Dongmin muses, crossing his arms.

“No,” you and Jaehyun refuse in a panic, and Dongmin blinks in confusion at the overwhelming response.

“I'm more of a homebody,” you explain.

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun agrees.

It makes Dongmin laugh aloud. “Oh, fate didn’t go wrong with the two of you.”

Your smile wavers. Did it go so wrong with you and Dongmin? Jaehyun’s hand brushes yours and you look at him. A perfect side profile and flushed hot cheeks with dimples to die for. You wouldn’t mind being in love with him. You don’t mind love much at all.

Shaking off the thought, you watch as Dongmin leaves the two of you to run to the changing rooms. Eyeing Jaehyun’s red team sweatshirt with “Management” in big typography over the chest, you look back up to his face.

“Why did you jog over here so desperately?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Jealous?”

“Yes. I am irreparably in love with you.”

He leans in quickly and you flinch, making his dimples show up.

“Asshole,” you curse. “I’ll file you for harassment. Don’t do that again.”

“Isn’t it harassment when you feel me up while you draw—” Jaehyun leans in to whisper. “—the soulmark?”

“I would never have my hands near your greasy existence if I could,” you huff, scandalized.

But the thing is, Jaehyun is getting better at this game of flustering each other and you don’t like it one bit.

“Hey, you know Dongmin’s girlfriend?” he asks suddenly.

You nod. “Kind of. I’ve seen her pictures on Instagram.”

Jaehyun pauses before humming in realization.

You cough. “Not that I was stalking them or something. Obviously.”

Jaehyun gives you a knowing smile but doesn’t question anything, much to your aggravation. It would’ve been better if you had a chance to prove you weren’t stalking them but then again, that is exactly what you were doing.

“Well, we went to the same college. Same major too.”

“Are you serious? Wait, how do you know? Does this mean you stalked their Instagram too?”

“Too?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“She’s not exactly the evil homewrecker type,” he says.

“I know that,” you snap. If anything, you feel like the evil homewrecker even if Dongmin’s supposed to be your soulmate.

They’re so reckless. Jaehyun was right—you do blame them in a way. They don’t care who they trample under their nauseating parade of romance. But then again, that parade is better than a personal rejection.

“I’m just saying… don't hold it against them.”

“I don’t remember asking for advice, Jung Yoonoh.”

Jaehyun shrugs, dropping the issue. The preparations for the next race is starting and it has something to do with passing balls from basket to basket—you get bored already when you see Doyoung stretch before shaking hands with Taeyong.

“Wanna get ice-cream? We funded the food truck this year.” Jaehyun looks expectantly at you.

“Sure.”

You contemplate holding his hand for a moment but let that thought bury itself. You don’t have to pretend right now.

Much to your despair (or delight) however, Jaehyun takes your hand absentmindedly as he walks towards the exit. It’s not that you’ve never held hands before, it’s just that Jaehyun’s skin is soft against yours.

“I can’t believe you and Mijoo were in the same course.”

It seems she’s ahead of you in every direction you look to tread on. Of course, you will not be telling Jaehyun that. You don’t exactly feel jealousy—can’t feel jealousy when your life is perfect as it is. And for Jaehyun? You hate to admit it but you’d trade places with Mijoo any day.

“Well, she didn’t really like socializing back then so I didn’t know we were in the same program either.”

You chuckle, glancing down at your intertwined fingers despite your best efforts. It feels nice like this. It feels nice to be wanted by someone—even if it’s a lie.

“Do you think- Do you think they’re brave?” You ask. “They didn’t even hesitate to disregard the system.”

“I think people in love are always brave.”

You hum, looking down at your feet. All the more reason the system fucked up. You were never even supposed to be partnered up. You’re not brave—the face you put on is. The idea of love seems to get further and further away from you.

Just then, Jaehyun tugs at your hand, walking slightly faster and making you complain as you jog to catch up with his long strides. The food truck is fairly large, on the street outside to the stadium entrance. February is catching up with its heat and you curse at global warming for this hot winter day.

“You can take up to five scoops of different flavours,” he informs you, grinning sheepishly. “I guess the cups aren’t large enough for beyond that.”

“I didn’t know you were this passionate about ice-cream,” you say.

“Sicheng rubbed off on me.”

You laugh. IT must have given Sicheng enough stress to develop a sweet tooth. You love the HR Department when you look at the others in your company.

Jaehyun has a nice smile. You don’t know why you think that but you do and now you can’t focus on anything apart from the pink dust sprinkled over his cheeks and the handsome dimples that accompany. You don’t want to stare but clearly, Jaehyun must have been blessed by some divide being if not for fate. Maybe he’s a mess up like you. As far as you know, his soulmate doesn’t exist. That little red heart is so simple that none of the soulmate designs match it.

A rather repulsing part of you is happy about it. You like the feel of Jaehyun’s hands. You like the way he looks at you. You wouldn’t mind it if he were yours.

Jaehyun’s house is as cosy as his mother makes you feel. It’s been a while since you’ve been home and if you were perhaps less emotionally constipated, you would have tears welling up in your eyes. There’s quite a few relatives too but then again, every Asian family jumps at the chance to celebrate something as mediocre as engagements and marriage and soulmate findings. Apparently, hormones are perfectly fine to them once you’re not teenagers anymore.

This isn’t so bad. What was so scary about meeting parents again? Jaehyun’s dad did challenge you with a questionnaire but lucky for you, you know exactly how interviews work. You’ve got enough information on Jaehyun from the man himself for this visit. The briefing he gave you was boring though; you already know what you need to know about Jaehyun.

You sit at the table, while most of the other guests work in the kitchen. Jaehyun’s mother asks you questions about your life, friendly and welcoming in every way possible. Mothers are truly god-sent. You wonder how she produced someone as far from divine as Jaehyun. (Except in looks, perhaps.)

You say that out loud and get a sharp quip from Jaehyun, his mother’s eyes lighting up at your childish interaction.

“Oh my, fate is never wrong!” She remarks with a wide smile. “I’ve never seen Jaehyun open up so much with anyone before. He was such a shy boy in school, you know? All the girls would send letters and confessions and he would just turn red in the face.”

“Mom.” He smiles all too sweet at her but you can see the panic in his eyes.

She rolls her eyes before turning to you. “Darling, you have no idea how proud I feel to see him this at ease. I was honestly getting tired of all the ‘your son is so polite and well-mannered’ comments. Some bickering ought to do him good.”

“Mom,” he repeats, straightening. “I think auntie needs some help setting up the table.”

“Don’t shoo me away yet. I have to tell (name) about the time you were elected class representative in middle school. And all those sports and acting awards.”

“You don’t have to advertise me, Mom,” he says, dropping his face into his hands to rub at his eyes, already growing tired. “I’m already- I’m already hers.”

His mother coos and apart from the expected deep red flush on Jaehyun’s skin, you find yourself feeling hot in the face too. Jaehyun’s aunt calls for his mother right then and you watch as she makes her way to the kitchen entrance, the two women glancing at you and giggling to each other over some shared words.

Jaehyun takes the opportunity to grab your hand and walk away to a more obscure part of the house upstairs. With significantly less relatives, it should be a good hiding spot unless discovered by his giggling cousins that he refuses to introduce you to.

“Aw, what a shy baby,” you coo, smiling at the thought of a younger, easily-flustered Jaehyun.

His ears are bright red and you think that he’s still easily flustered. He just doesn’t show it much anymore—there’s only one dead giveaway.

“Forget everything my mom said,” he instructs. “It’s not important information.”

“Oh, no, darling. Your mother is a gold mine of vital information. You know what? I’m going to go chat her up right now. I’m sure you were quite the teenage dream I should know about.”

Jaehyun grips your wrist before you can escape, pulling your closer.

“Don’t.”

You don’t know if it’s the proximity or the fact that there are most definitely a few family members that could walk in right now—but you find yourself embarrassed as you look at his face. It’s very pleasant, handsome even, and the strands of his hair look irresistibly soft from this distance. You reach your hand out and brush the hair out of his eyes, almost instinctively.

“You have nice eyes, Jaehyun,” you say out loud, not sure why. He doesn’t fluster this time but it makes you all the more aware of your nearness.

Your eyes glance at the bottom of the staircase to see a little girl, around nine, hiding from behind the wall that separates the dining room and the kitchen. You return your gaze to Jaehyun with a smirk.

"We should kiss right now. Your little cousin's watching."

Jaehyun looks mildly disgusted. "Why would I want to kiss you in front of my cousin?"

You roll your eyes. “You don't get it, do you? The fastest way to convince a family is through rumours.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "So?"

"Oh my god, you're an idiot. Nosy cousins are the most effective way to spread rumours."

"Ah." Jaehyun looks enlightened enough for you to continue.

"Okay, but first you need to have these mints." You take out the emergency mints from your purse.

"What? I don't need mints. I have nice smelling breath.”

"Everyone needs mints, Jaehyun. Especially men."

Jaehyun sighs heavily. You take the opportunity to grab his wrist and pull him into a corner.

"Have this mint or else."

You hold his face between your thumb and forefingers, cheeks squishing under the pressure as you force a mint in. He lets you do it for some reason, looking lost as he gazes at you.

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh my, you're enjoying this. Pervert."

"Wha—what? You have to stop thinking you're hot shit, oh my god. I just got distracted for a bit."

"By me, right?"

"No! I just zoned ou—you're enjoying this."

You bite down your smile but a giggle escapes you anyway. Jaehyun rolls his eyes though he smiles, looking far too close to irresistible when his dimples show.

"You can't keep teasing me," he says, voice low.

"I've been doing it for two years. I'm pretty sure I can do it for at least two more."

Jaehyun scoffs, laughing at your statement. "You know what? I'm going to get back at you from now on. I've been so lenient."

You snort before pressing the back of your fingers to your nose. "You? You're going to get back at me? You’re good at lip service, Jaehyun."

“Huh. You might be right about that.”

There's a beat of silence and you look at him expectantly. In the next beat of your heart (or lack thereof), he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours, surprising the life out of you as your back hits the wall. It's not just a touch either, his mouth moves over yours and when your knees feel weak, you reluctantly admit that the rumour about Jung Yoonoh being a good kisser is true. Maybe his body count isn't a lower-end single digit after all.

He pulls apart with a short smile tugging at his lips. "Satisfied?"

You sputter out a response before clearing your throat. “I- I don’t think anyone really saw us in this corner.”

Jaehyun makes a low humming sound. “Or you could just say you want me to kiss you again? I know I’m a good kisser.”

“Fuck off.” You punch his chest, eliciting a quiet grunt from him.

You move away from him, peeking from behind the wall. Oh, she saw it alright. The giggling gives it away and the fact that a few more younger cousins have gathered. This is ridiculous. The fact that you wouldn’t mind more is even worse.

You turn back to Jaehyun with steel-set eyes. “No more kissing. Ever. Never again. Kissing is officially banned.”

Jaehyun looks perplexed. “I thought that was a good kiss. Did you not enjoy it? What do you mean no kissing?”

“And I take it back.” The heat on your face is still burning steadily.

“Oh, I see. You liked it so much that you’re embarrassed.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So I’m right?”

You roll your eyes and quickly walk down the stairs, a few words of complaint left hanging in the air as Jaehyun follows behind, stumbling over the steps.

Jaehyun likes how comfortable this is. He doesn’t mind glaring daggers at each other but this is fun too. It’s like he doesn’t have to be careful about the lines he might be crossing—there aren’t any damn lines at all. He can’t call it love, at least not by definition, but something is there. Something that is solid enough and heavy enough. Something he would be ready to hold on to.

You laugh at a joke Jaehyun’s dad makes. A family is the only place to feel at home. It might not be yours but maybe at the end of the night, you can convince them to disown Jaehyun and adopt you as their child instead. His cousins seem to be interested in the same things you were as a high schooler and it surprised you. Your job lets you advise the older cousins in a fairly friendly fashion. The little ones seem to like your dress and you find them far too adorable with their pink cheeks and dimples, much like Jaehyun’s. Speaking of which, he definitely got them from his dad. You look around and wonder how Jaehyun has so many female cousins and not an inkling about how women work.

It doesn’t hurt anymore that Dongmin discarded you so recklessly.

He’s wrong. Jaehyun’s wrong. It doesn’t hurt—didn’t hurt right now at the very least. When Jaehyun kissed you, you didn’t think of Dongmin or his girlfriend or anyone else. You thought that Jaehyun’s skin is somehow always the right temperature.

You shake your head. Jaehyun drives your getaway car and you shouldn’t get too comfortable in its worn-out leather seats. This shouldn’t be any different to you; you aren’t supposed to find love in every corner. This was all a survival instinct.

The more stories Jaehyun’s mother shares with you over dinner, the more you find it comfortable to be here. You don’t feel this welcome in your own apartment (although, there isn’t exactly anyone else living there but you and the goddamn pigeon that wakes you up at six in the morning). The more the night progresses, the more you want to believe in this lie. Jaehyun glances at you from time to time, his gaze neither uncomfortable nor harsh and you smile at him when he does. Right now, there is no loneliness and the air is warm and smells of freshly cooked food; the way familial love works is such a mystery. You feel content.

“Why are we doing this again?” you lean in and ask Jaehyun, eyes focused on the TV as he tries to fix it.

“Because I need to get out of work, and fulfilled soulmates get a day off on Valentine’s day.”

You nod. “Your apartment kind of stinks. I feel sorry for Sicheng.”

“This is clean,” he defends, pointing at the lack of any visible mess in his room. His work table, however, has too many items scattered over it to be called neat. There’s a fairly large TV attached to the wall and you’re a little jealous about it. You only ever watch shows on your (quite beloved albeit small) laptop. The blinds aren’t fully closed, the evening city lights trying their best to pry their pervasive fingers in and add something more to the peach hue of Jaehyun’s room.

The doorbell rings just in estimated time for food delivery, a sigh leaving your mouth along with a ‘finally’. His place is strangely comfortable and much less of the war zone that you expected. There’s no reason to feel awkward, really, or even the bubbling in your stomach. You’re not seventeen, in your crush’s house. Jaehyun isn’t even someone you like that way.

It’s just two friends hanging out and watching a movie and doing other friendly activities. Two friends hanging out on Valentine's day. Two friends who have kissed more than once.

What do lovers do anyway?

This thing with Jaehyun has turned into clandestine smiles at the office building, subtle texts of ‘did you eat?’ and ‘good morning, idiot’, racing hearts at brushing hands on the occasional off-work hangouts (you refuse to call them “dates”) and overall, a lot more pink hearts floating over his head when you see him. It’s positively appalling.

You don’t mind it one bit.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” The delivery man wishes as he leaves and you feel a sudden rage bubble up in you.

“Ah, does he think every couple celebrates Valentine’s day? And just because we’re in the same apartment means we’re a couple? Wow.” You cross your arms, scoffing. “Who’s he to wish me?”

“Why… Why are you getting mad?” Jaehyun asks quietly, slightly confused.

You glare at him, your anger not quite dissipated and walk back into his room, placing the box of confectionaries on the bedside table with a loud thud. Jaehyun follows, placing the drinks rather clumsily beside it. He gives you one last look of concern before settling down on his bed.

You let out another huff of complaint.

"Does everything have to be heart-shaped?"

You stare at the nauseating display of baked goods delivered in a pretty heart-shaped box. The brownie is in a clear plastic box that has a tiny bouquet of hearts atop it, the coffee cups have heart stickers around the rim, and the pastry itself is heart-shaped or rather, two halves of a heart. One of them is strawberry pink and the other chocolate brown.

“You seem… suddenly fired up,” Jaehyun comments quietly.

You don’t really care if you look crazy to him right now; he’s already seen the worse parts of you. You’re just so annoyed at all this red and pink that was delivered. Aren’t cafes supposed to stick with that beige-cream palette?

While you contemplate, Jaehyun tears the little sugar packet and attempts to open the lid of the cup at the same time, your blood pressure rising at the sight because you were half sure he’d spill the drink. After much difficulty, he shakes the packet trying to get just enough sugar but of course, like the clumsy oaf he is, he misses almost entirely, spilling sugar over his coffee table. It’s oddly endearing but that’s a thought you’ll keep to yourself.

He turns to you with a sheepish grin and you give him a look of distaste.

“You are a sorry excuse of a person, Jaehyun.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t mess this up.”

You turn to look him in the eyes, the honey shade alluring under warm apartment lights. They really are pretty.

“I, and every other sane human being, would not mess up adding sugar to a cup of coffee.”

“You faltered for a moment there.”

That was not the reason you faltered. You roll your eyes and look away, taking a sip of your drink and sighing at the taste.

“How do you even like Americanos? Don’t you like a bit of cream and sweetness?”

“I don’t really care for bitterness,” he answers.

“Wow, you must be a masochist.”

“And it’s quite obvious you’re a sadist.”

You snicker. “That makes us quite the pair.”

“I would like that sentence in a non-BDSM context, thank you.”

Jaehyun turns on the TV and the Netflix logo animation pops up. You raise an eyebrow at his ‘Continue Watching’ list, eyeing Bridegerton and Sweet Home, and wondering if he could be any more of an enigma. You can’t possibly figure him out at this point. You groan when he picks a title.

“Ugh. Do we have to watch a romantic comedy?”

“What? They’re funny. And I thought you liked those 2000’s movies.”

You believed in unicorns and sock goblins and love back then too. These days, you hate to see other people in love, especially when it’s fake. The movies you loved are now the movies you hate. The couples you eyed with delight at parks and cafes are now the bane of your existence. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that you enjoy the digital fireworks from a couple having a massive online breakup. Things falling apart are entertaining when it’s not happening to you.

You purse your lips. Can't you see other people happy without wanting to tear it down for yourself?

“Fine. But I’ll pick the 2000’s romcom.”

Jaehyun shrugs and hands over the remote. You see Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds on the poster and click on it immediately. The Proposal has a good enough comedy to romance ratio, in your opinion.

“I’m kind of surprised you came,” he says quietly.

“Why?” You raise an eyebrow. “Is it because of the suggestive nature of visiting someone’s apartment on Valentine’s day? Did you think we’d be doing something… more fun?”

You lean in and bat your eyelashes suggestively, although you’re clearly joking.

“I think you should know better than to get mouthy with me,” he answers as he leans in further, making your heartbeat hike at the proximity. Maybe he’s figured you out. Wouldn’t it be so nice to figure each other out at the same time—like puzzle pieces fitting together?

You move away from him. “Well, it’s not like I can go anywhere else. And I didn’t want to stay in my own apartment.”

“Maybe you enjoy my company?”

“Look, I would be sipping my coffee at a perfectly aesthetic cafe if it weren’t Valentine’s day.”

He raises an eyebrow at your nonsensical declaration and you sigh, trying to explain yourself.

“Cafes just terrorize the single folk on Valentine’s day. You should always go with Netflix,” you say.

“And chill?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“As I’ve told you so many times, I am not stupid.”

You inhale, an idea presenting itself.

“Hey, since we’re technically a couple, shouldn’t you be sharing your Netflix password with me?” you ask, pressing your lips into your cutest smile.

“No.”

“You’re so stingy,” you mutter. It was worth a shot.

Jaehyun laughs, your hand reaching out to poke his dimples but you stop yourself. You weren’t supposed to get this comfortable. This wasn’t your place to be. Lost in thought, the moving screen leaves you unfazed and you can’t look at him anymore. However, Jaehyun reaches out right then and wipes at the space beside your lips, your focus lifting from the beginning scenes of The Proposal and latching onto Jaehyun’s lips.

There’s a pause, your head clearing itself of thoughts when you make eye contact with him. Soft hair, doe eyes, full lips and dimples—he’s so damn attractive, it hurts your existence. Does he have to be this close to you? You have mixed feelings about that look in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers suddenly.

“Yes,” you answer.

If you look from a rational point of view, you should not have said that. You should have said anything but that. But you don’t want to think right now. Jaehyun’s touch is warm over your skin as his hand rests under your jaw and the other on your waist.

You should not have said that. But you feel loved.

Somewhere along, you find yourself parting only to kiss again, the feeling of skin so delightful in a way you’ve never experienced. Your shirt hikes up and you see Jaehyun eye the little heart with the arrow—the sign you so despised with a gentle smile.

“It’s pretty,” he whispers.

It’s pretty but it isn’t his. He doesn’t have to look at you like that—he’s come a long way from nervous glances and now he’s the one making you nervous. Just say it isn’t love and it will be alright.

You part, sobering up for a moment and you disentangle your limbs to sit at the side of his bed.

“What’s- What’s wrong?” Jaehyun whispers.

You exhale.

“All my life, I wait and when it comes, it’s all wrong,” you say, staring at your lap. Self-pity is the most disgusting kind of pity to feel. You’re past crying at things like this. You’re past crying for an ounce of romance, every time you listen to a love song on the radio or look at an Instagram post of a couple or pass by lovers on the sidewalk content with each other. You don’t even have cats to return home to. Modern loneliness is wearing you down but you can’t believe in fairytales anymore.

He scoffs, smiling bitterly. “I don’t even know if this is worth losing my dignity over.”

“Jaehyun—”

“We can’t pretend anymore—I can’t pretend anymore,” Jaehyun exhales. “I want you enough to forget the system. Give me an answer. Please.”

You don’t mind forgetting the system right now. Jaehyun’s lips are always the right temperature; the warmth of his body seeps through his shirt as you press yourself to him in a hug. He’s perfect and right now, you want to believe he’s perfect for you—even if he isn’t, you want to believe it into existence.

You cup Jaehyun’s cheeks, unsaid emotion in his doe eyes, and kiss him. This time, you mean it with every ounce of your being. There’s no more flustering each other, just the hot flush of intimacy when you feel skin that doesn’t burn you. It’s just the right feeling. There’s no way this can be wrong.

Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? You wish the voice would pipe down. It’s a coward, fearing fate just as everyone else does. But you are better than that, and this feeling is too enjoyable to let go. You don’t want this to fade.

Just then, Dongmin’s face comes to mind and you think that maybe if you kiss someone else with all you have, you don’t have to think of your shortcomings ever again.

Jaehyun pulls apart and you miss the warmth.

“You’re not… You’re not thinking of me, are you?” he asks.

You don’t answer, even if the silence is overwhelming.

“I’d rather not have you close your eyes and think of someone else when I’m in front of you.”

“I’m sorry” is all you can say.

“You can at least pretend to love me.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. “Could. It’s not like this was ever supposed to work out.”

You gulp, looking away. “Jaehyun, come on. That’s not like you. We were- we were just… having fun.”

He takes a deep breath. “It hurts to not be wanted by someone you want. You know that. So why are you doing this to me?”

Because misery likes company.

“I’m sorry.”

It seems the phrase you barely uttered when you were younger is tumbling out of your lips in a mixture of grief and pity. Perhaps it’s karma. Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps it’s just the consequences of your mistakes.

Jaehyun parts his lips, a sigh departing. He leans in again, pushing away all of his thoughts. A little more hurt won't kill him tonight. How and when did you bring him down to his knees?

However, he's stopped by your hands against his shoulders, his lips hovering over yours.

"Let's stop," you say. "You're right."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

“I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

You wish you could be brave enough to burn the instruction pamphlet from destiny. But right now, you need to get away from Jaehyun, away from any more misery business.

“I’ll get going,” you say, gathering your stuff.

Jaehyun hesitates but doesn’t stop you. He would never stop you, can’t stop so how could he even dream of stopping fate? This can never work out. It felt right in the moment but you don’t know anything more than that. You can’t close your eyes and pray everything disappears. No one else will solve your problems for you, you know that.

It’s time you start fixing the mess you made. You leave with a polite goodbye and hear a loud sigh behind you once the door is closed. Blinking away the urge to walk back in, you take long and quick strides to the elevator. You’re going to fix this.

Maybe if Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face’ wasn’t blasting at full volume at this stupid office party, you could be thinking a little straighter.

He was right. You can’t pretend anymore. There were thousands of ways this could have gone better. You didn’t have to pretend to be soulmates when you’re not. You could’ve discarded your belief in the whole system like Dongmin and Mijoo and dated someone out of spite. You didn’t have to drag Jaehyun into your sorry mess. You need to take out the nail you hammered into your own foot.

It’s the first time you’ve visited the rooftop restaurant from the company’s subsidiary chain of high-end restaurants but you imagined it would be bigger. It’s the news’ fault for making this place seem like a football field. However, you might be feeling that way because the distance between you and Jaehyun is suffocatingly small as is the distance with Dongmin. You don’t need to see Jaehyun tonight.

You don’t intend to make your confession a public affair and you certainly don’t believe in tack things like atonement. However, improvement begins with a step in the right direction. Maybe you’ll be a better person after this. Maybe you’ll still be as annoying and pushy as ever. You need to get it off your chest so you can proceed with the already tedious journey that comes with a soulmate rejection. You wonder why there’s so many man-made laws about soulmates when fate has made it complicated enough as it is. Love is the same as legalese when it comes to this system.

You flit about the crowds, smiling and greeting people and swerving away from Jaehyun every time he tries to approach you. You’re trying to make a good decision for once. He better not intrude. You’re wearing pink too, for the first time in a while: a satin shirt, pants and blazer set in dull pink.

“Dongmin,” you say, pulling him by the sleeve of his blue tux, and away from the rest of the HR team. “I have to show you something.”

“Hm? Show me?” He blinks at you.

You get him to follow you to the inside the premises, stopping when you’re far into a

“Uh?” Dongmin looks around before leaning in to whisper. “You’re not plotting to murder me, are you?”

You blink, and he laughs at you incredulously. “Why are you so serious?”

“I was lying,” you rush. “With Jaehyun. He’s not my soulmate. You are.”

Dongmin blinks in confusion. “Are… you joking? That was a weird joke but it could pass as funny—”

“Dongmin.”

You pull out your shirt from your pants, exposing the tattoo on your hip. It’s the little arrowed heart that has been plaguing you for years but now when you look at it, you feel no animosity. After all, it’s been through the same things you have.

Dongmin’s face falls into stunned silence, eyes fixated on your waist.

“That’s- That’s my—what is this?”

Russian roulette is certainly not the same without a gun.

“I lied, Dongmin,” you answer, fixing your shirt back in. “I was so afraid of your rejection that I made an even larger fool of myself.”

His initial shock seems to have partly subsided.

“You… Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks momentarily hurt.

“You have Mijoo, Dongmin. I can’t ruin something like that.”

A love that doesn’t need fate to fix it.

Dongmin glances away in guilt and sighs, though the sound is croaky. This must be more than what he can take.

“I’m sorry,” he says, haltingly. “I hurt you, didn’t I? When I thought I was being brave, I hurt you instead.”

You smile bitterly. “We all hurt someone, Dongmin. I still have to fix that one for myself.”

He scans your face, lips trembling slightly as unspoken words die on them.

“We’ll tend to the legal stuff later, hm? No compensation. We can file a mutual rejection.”

“But—”

“Shh. I’m happy enough as coworkers and I get paid more than enough for this job. Might get a promotion soon too.”

You wink at him with an added finger gun, trying to play it cool. Despite everything, a weight feels lifted from your shoulders. Now that you are truly alone, you might as well embrace this growing loneliness crawling under your skin. Discomfort could be something you can get used to.

When you get back to the warmly lit rooftop, the HR team looks at you curiously. You have the most self-destructive thought you’ve had in a while and tell yourself, you might as well if you've come this far. This is it. This is your social death. Honesty is the best policy, unfortunately.

“Dongmin and I have the same soulmate mark,” you announce. “We’re soulmates but we’ll sign a mutual rejection.”

Doyoung looks almost like he’ll faint and Soojin’s mouth is so wide open, you could practice throwing some mini basketballs in. This is your team—almost a second family, and it’s time you stop trying to hide yourself or disguise your feelings as something they’re not. They’ll get over it, as will you.

“J-Jaehyun?” Soojin looks to your side and you turn to find Jaehyun frowning.

“You could’ve discussed this with me,” he says, an odd sound of relief in his laugh.

It hurts to look at him but you muster up your strength.

“I’m sorry,” you say, facing him. “I didn’t want to drag you into this hell with me.”

Into this loveless hell made for you.

“(name).”

It’s so painfully quiet in this corner; there are so many eyes on you and only the hurt taking shape in Jaehyun’s eyes knock some sense into you.

“I’ll leave first,” you say, bowing as you take your leave.

You brisk up your pace and exit the venue as quickly as you can and into the building corridor.

Unfortunately for you, you recognize the pair of footsteps that follow you—both of them having their timings wrong. Boys don’t chase after the girl when she’s walking away. Boys should leave a girl alone when she feels like she’s about to cry.

You turn to face two men and groan internally. This is the worst possible situation—you’d rather crawl into a hole than look at either of them. The corporate light shines harshly on either of their faces but the look on them is so earnest, you want to close your eyes and scream. You don’t mind being alone. You were overstepping when you wished you weren’t.

“(name),” Dongmin starts. “I’m sorry it turned out this way. If you’d told me, we could have talked this out.”

A light scoff leaves Jaehyun and Dongmin purses his lips. It’s kind of funny watching both of their tall frames in hesitant postures and you cross your arms. You’re going to deal with this quickly like you always should have. If you’re dealing with fate, you need to have a clear head—and fortune doesn’t favour fools. Being with Jaehyun was nice but he is not yours. Dongmin may have been assigned to you but you’d rather not ruin someone’s relationship.

“What would we have talked about?” you ask. “Compensation charges? Apologies?”

You see a hint of positivity on Jaehyun’s face and turn to face him, frowning.

“And you. Don’t look so smug. You’re the reason I realized this crap. It hurts. Like hell.”

He opens his mouth but no words come when he’s far too taken aback. He can’t offer consolation now, not after everything. You knew this would happen. You would undoubtedly end up wishing you didn’t fall in love with him on the day you leave.

“(name). Listen to me,” Dongmin calls again, voice gentle.

Jaehyun sighs. “We’re both fucking this up, dude.”

Dongmin takes a sharp breath.

“You know, soulmates can be platonic,” he reasons, looking only at you. “People are made for each other differently and maybe you and I—”

“You’re just making her feel worse,” Jaehyun cuts him off.

“How do you know that?” Dongmin asks, finally turning to him. “Because you’ve spent a month or two with her? I’m her soulmate.”

“I think a month or two is much better than a stranger with the same damn birthmark.”

“Oh come on,” Dongmin scoffs. “The system exists for a reason.”

“I don’t give a shit about the system. The same as your girlfriend—oh, sorry, did you forget about her already?”

“It’s not like that.” Dongmin quietens. “We’ll figure something out.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. They’re worse than you are—honestly, you don’t know what you expected from the timid emotional maturity of men. Both of their polite facades have melted and you’re starting to miss their sweet-tempered work demeanour.

“Come with me,” Dongmin tells you.

He wraps his hand around your wrist and tugs, Jaehyun visibly tensing up at the gesture. He presses his tongue against his cheek in annoyance but refrains from doing anything rash. You feel sorry when you look at him.

“Dongmin,” you whisper. “Can we- can we have a moment?”

Dongmin nods in understanding and exits the hallway to cool off with a few splashes of water in the washroom.

“Would you go with him?” Jaehyun asks, jaw clenched. “An acquaintance as most? Are you willing to run into the arms of fate that you hated so much?”

He looks bitter and you can’t think of a sugar-coated response. You’ll just have to tell him how you feel.

“I need to sort things out, Jaehyun. This—”

You point from him to yourself.

“Couldn’t work out thanks to fate. Dongmin and I will never work out because he’s braver than I am. You know he’s doing all of that just so I don’t get hurt, right? He’s not suddenly in love with me.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, looking down to his feet. Is it so bad that he let jealousy get the best of his mouth? Envy isn’t so awful. He looks from your eyes to lips and wishes he were young enough to believe in fairytales.

“You don’t have to be brave,” he whispers. “You don’t have to be so brave to fall in love. You don’t have to be brave to stay with me.”

“We tried, Jaehyun. And we can’t cheat fate. That, at the very least, requires bravery.”

You press your lips into a thin line. It hurts. It hurts so bad to look at him and face the consequences of this flawed design. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that you have to follow the rules even after trying your best to break them.

“You wish you never met me, don’t you?” you whisper. “I made a mess.”

Before he responds, you bow in a short goodbye and walk towards the elevator. There’s no footsteps behind you, no Prince Charming. It’s just you and your high heels clacking against the cold marble as you head back to an empty home. You always thought freedom would feel different, that distance would give you perspective. It just feels awful when no one is around you at all. When you have no one to pick up morning calls from, receive texts from asking if you ate, spend time in peace without uttering a single word—are you free or are you lonely?

The rules state that the two of you are different. It is true. You are as different as love in real life and love in the movies; and neither of them have happy endings now.

You wish you drank some more last night if you were going to embarrass yourself like that. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you have two more days to figure out how to face your coworkers. You frown when you think of Jaehyun. Were you wrong to tell him that you simply couldn’t choose him? What if fate is right and it falls apart? You stir your morning coffee, the will to drink it fading slowly. It’s already fallen apart—and it wasn’t fate who did that, it was you. Should you have taken his stupidly warm hands and asked him to follow you? You don’t understand how it works at all.

Centuries of questioning what love is, poking and prodding at it like a lab sample, and there’s still no perfect answer. Love is blind. Love is cruel. Love is a fever. Love is temporary insanity. Love is acceptance. Love will set you free. There’s just too many variations. You can never tell if fate is meant to make it easier or worse.

No one questions you at the office and you're not sure if you’re glad or aggravated. Only Doyoung shoots you a pitiful look which you brush off and immediately get into work. Embarrassment is only real if you acknowledge it. However, every time Dongmin tries to talk to you, you ask for space and even alone in your thoughts, you don’t get it. They just have to drift to Jaehyun.

You wonder if what he said was true, that he wanted you enough to forget the system. It’s clearly ruined now. The spiral of thinking has you zoning out during work more often than not and even Doyoung ends up reprimanding you for your lack of focus. Sometimes you want to snap but other times, you’re just hopelessly reciting the events over and over in your head. This was supposed to happen, wasn’t it? You don’t even have the strength left in you to blame it all on Jaehyun.

You pace in the corridors after work, contemplating popping by the Marketing Department. What could go wrong? Sure, it was a little dramatic of you to leave like that but everything can be fixed, right? You groan. What you were supposed to be fixing, you made worse. Are your hands cursed or something? You shake your head, returning to your desk to gather your belongings and head home.

Unfortunately, the sight of Doyoung sitting in your chair alarms you and you stop a foot away.

“If you’re going to reprimand me for watching cat videos instead of checking the employee records, I can assure you my efficiency is still top-notch.”

“You’re—what? Never mind.” Doyoung shakes his head. “Can you give this ginseng pack to Jaehyun? I owe him.”

Oh no. You know where this is going.

“You know I’m going to keep that for myself, right?” You make a face. “I’d rather die than face Jaehyun right now.”

Doyoung shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one running to you. This is in case of an emergency.”

You give him a fake smile and Doyoung shakes his head. “Good to see you’re still great at pretending to be fine.”

You sigh. “Thanks for looking out for me, bossman.”

Doyoung blinks, hand covering his mouth when an audible gasp leaves him. “Woah. I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you thank me. But don’t call me bossman ever again.”

“Noted,” you say, taking your bag and leaving with a short goodbye. You’re lucky he lets you off work early, even if you never took it. Employees usually can’t leave until their superiors does and if you were a senior employee, you’d be giving your juniors quite the hell.

You seem to be good at concocting hellscapes. Perhaps, you should look for job openings in the underworld. One last thought of Jaehyun exits your head and you take the bus home, admiring the city you live in and the warmth of people and their relationships. You don’t feel jealous; you just bask in them for the time—be it a mother and her son or two bickering sisters or a lovely old couple. That’s how it’s meant to be, then. That’s how love works.

Jaehyun smacks his head against the sofa armrest for the fifteenth time in a row.

“Dude. You’re going to permanently ruin the fabric.” Sicheng says, eyes trained on his laptop screen.

“I should’ve said something more.” Jaehyun’s voice is so zombie-like, he thinks he should cast himself in the Train to Busan sequel as an extra.

“I’m glad I’m not you,” Sicheng mutters.

“Can you give me some sort of consolation, at least?”

“That’s not what I’m your friend for.”

Jaehyun sighs and resumes smacking the back of his head against the armrest. He really needs to figure this out. After all, he can’t really Google the solution to this.

“One thing doesn’t make sense,” Sicheng says, finally looking up from his screen. “Why do you have the same mark as (name)’s if you’re not soulmates?”

“You’re so incredibly—but adorably—stupid, Sicheng. She drew it in with a permanent marker. She kissed me too! It was sudden and weird but I didn’t mind it.

“Yikes.” Sicheng makes a face. “So… you didn’t take a shower for how long now?”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“The ink hasn’t washed off. I heard you singing in the shower yesterday, how could you not have washed that off? Ugh. Don’t tell me you miss her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he jumps up and rushes to the washroom. Looking into the mirror, the tattoo poking out from his T-shirt resembles yours a lot more than his. The arrow is still drawn in. Jaehyun’s shoulder slumps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Turning the tap and letting the water flow, he wets his hand and rubs at his collarbone to remove the arrow.

Except it doesn’t budge. His skin turns painfully red from the rubbing but the ink, which usually washes off in less than five minutes has no intention of leaving. Did you use a different brand of marker the last time? When was it anyway?

Jaehyun breathes out, firming his resolve. He needs to be with you.

Sicheng blinks in surprise as Jaehyun grabs his car keys, not even bothering to change from an all-black getup of a T-shirt and jeans like some emo teenager, and shuts the front door behind him. Not even a ‘goodbye, I’m leaving!’

Sicheng sighs. Love makes people crazy. He’s not falling into that trap when his soulmate literally doesn’t exist, the same as his soulmark. It seems the contestants in this game are full of exceptions.

You hit your head against your pillow. To visit Jaehyun or not to. You haven’t left your bed since you woke up around seven in the morning, and now it’s ten. Your bedsheets are a mess because you’ve rolled around too much on them (in despair, not with someone unfortunately).

You need the quiet sometimes to let your mind rest, to let your heart rest. You needed time. But maybe it’s been long enough and now you’re just searching for excuses to hold on to your last shred of dignity.

You lift your head up and glare at the box of ginseng on your table. Should you? You reluctantly get up, feeling a sting of pain in your back for lying in that awkward position for so long. Right when you’ve put on your slippers, the doorbell rings and you groan. How did the package you stress-ordered last night arrive so early? These deliveries are getting faster and faster.

You walk to the front door and open it thoughtlessly, freezing up at the sight. Your first reaction is to cover yourself. You’re not exactly your best-looking version at the moment. Jaehyun’s dark circles almost match yours but he’s better dressed than you are—in a black T-shirt and jeans while you’re wearing a Gudetama pajama set.

“We’re not just friends,” he blurts. “We’re not soulmates but we’re not just friends.”

“Huh? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing I’ve looked.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in a question look.

“That’s not important! Look—”

He pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. His hair is so disheveled and messy, he barely even looks like the same well-maintained marketing employee you know.

Jaehyun tugs at his T-shirt, pulling down to reveal his tattoo—albeit with your marker-drawn arrow through it. He does have a pretty well-built chest, you note before chiding yourself for getting distracted.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you, uh, need help scrubbing it off or something?”

“No.” Jaehyun lets out a huff of exasperation. “It won’t wash off. If it’s what I think it is—”

“Miracles don’t happen to people like us, Jaehyun,” you say quietly.

He gulps. “I don’t know about miracles but… I just needed an excuse to see you, I guess.”

You look up, a rose blush over Jaehyun’s bare face, and run your finger over the tattoo, sighing at the warmth of his skin. Your hand travels up to his cheek, resting atop it while you muster enough courage to look Jaehyun in his chocolate brown eyes.

You pull away. This isn’t the time. You still have an internal crisis to sort out. Are you even deserving of love? It makes much more sense if the answer is no.

However, Jaehyun pulls you in by the waist, his right palm warm against your cheek.

“I don’t care what anyone says.” He runs his thumb over your cheek in a painfully fond manner. “You’re worth more than the price I pay for this.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours swiftly, your head clearing of thoughts almost immediately. It feels so right, you can feel the spark, the red thread around your skin, hear the bells. This kiss was far more perfect than it was supposed to be.

You part, gasping. Jaehyun blinks at you, breathing heavily.

“Kiss me again.”

Jaehyun does as told and you might just believe in miracles this way. With his hand around your waist and in your hair, his lips over yours and the low rumbling laughter that parts the two of you—you might just believe in miracles. You might just believe that love isn't something you deserve by earning.

“I like this,” Jaehyun comments. “I like the way this is.”

You press your finger to his lips. “I think you should shut up and kiss me some more.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sexually repressed as of now, but that’s no reason to take advantage of me.”

You scowl, punching him on the shoulder and moving away from him.

“Come back,” he complains in a quiet voice.

“I am not going to do that.” You cross your arms.

“Come on,” he mutters, inching closer as you inch away, till your back hits the couch and you tumble backwards onto it, your legs on the headrest. Jaehyun laughs at your position, leaning in to keep his hands on either side of you, a doting look over him.

“Hey, did you know if I kicked my leg up, it would hit you in the balls?”

“Please don’t do that.”

You giggle, Jaehyun’s nose rubbing against yours in a bunny kiss.

“Is your place usually this much of a mess?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

You sigh heavily. “I was having a bad day, okay? Or… a bad weekend.”

“Do you even have food?”

You look away, crossing your arms. Jaehyun sighs and shakes his head.

“We should go grocery shopping. How do you live like this?”

You scoff. “Oh, spare me the lecture. I’ve heard enough horror stories about your room from Sicheng. You can’t hide from me by sweeping your clothes and belongings into his room.”

“Snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your mouth and you immediately cover it. Jaehyun smiles at you fondly and you look away, unable to bear that gaze of his.

“It really won’t wash off, by the way,” Jaehyun states, scratching at his collarbone.

You narrow your eyes, smacking his arms away to roll off the couch. Taking his wrist, you walk into your bathroom and turn the tap on. Something’s strange. But also strangely right.

“Look, I already tried—ow! Don’t rub that hard!”

You blink in confusion, trying again despite Jaehyun looking like his soul already left him. It doesn’t work. Your marker isn’t even that permanent. At least his regenerating skin cells should get rid of that arrow. Unless the ink was deep enough to pierce all the layers, as in a soulmark.

You gasp.

“You were right!”

“I told you s—”

"That's the point, isn't it?" you say, realization dawning as your eyes widen. "To see if people will question the system at all."

Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe.”

"Oh, all those unhappy marriages that could have been saved," you say as you exhale.

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. "I think that the point was, people can be happy without their soulmates. It's whoever you make one out of. Or I Googled too many articles on anti-soulmate propaganda."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. Watching his ears turn bright red is the cherry on top.

“Okay, fake-boyfriend-turned-real-soulmate.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Did you rethink your decision about sharing that Netflix password with me? I get the girlfriend free pass, right? Right?”

“I didn’t even share it with my mother.”

You whack his arm, him possibly used to it by now, judging from his lack of response.

“Idiot.” You cross your arms. “We can Netflix… and chill then. God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Jaehyun breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so pushy.”

“And you like being pushed around, nerd.”

“Who said that?”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, spinning you so that your back hits the door. He leans in to kiss you again and you smack your palm over his pouted lips. You laugh at his face, his eyes brimming with confusion.

“You’re in my apartment. I make the rules here. Think twice before you start a game with me, Mister.”

His shoulders droop. “Fine. Can you at least let me kiss you four times a day?”

“Five times, if you ask.”

He laughs before leaning in again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“You are one hell of a woman. Emphasis on hell.”

You laugh and grab his collar, pulling him in for the kiss that seals this deal.

You realize a few things in the moment: a) You don’t have to play roulette to find love, b) You don’t have to pick your poison to find love, and most importantly c) Love is right where you make something of it. Fate is still not in your good books but if it bends to you this way, you don’t mind at all. If Jaehyun kisses you like this every day, you don’t mind one bit.

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valentina-writes · 3 years

Text

Craving

A/N: Sorry, that I haven't posted in quite a while! I was lacking motivation a little bit and had a ton of other stuff to do. This one here was not requested, but the idea for it was stuck in my head for a couple days now and I couldn't concentrate on writing anything else. I will probably write some of the open requests soon.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: light smut (only a few paragraphs)

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„Come on, Y/N, we‘re waiting for you!”. Cassian’s voice is calling out to you from the dance floor. Behind him, you spot Mor, looking seriously offended you’re leaving her alone and instead sitting in a corner of Rita’s with a not even half-finished drink in your hand. Rhys and Feyre must be here somewhere too.

Even Azriel is on the dance floor, a rare sight. You can’t help but stare at him, the way his wings glow faintly in the glimmering lights of the club. His body that moves so flawlessly to the rhythm, so unlike the movements you are used to see him perform when training.

Fingers entangled in your hair, the hot feeling of his lips on yours. His voice in your ear, telling you he would take you slowly.

You shake your head as if to get rid of the memory, but still blush as Azriel’s gaze meets yours for a second.

“I’m sorry guys, but I don’t feel like dancing today”, you excuse yourself. That being said, you set down your glass and quickly escape out into the night.

Inhaling the cold air slowly, you try to calm down. It’s not his fault, you remind yourself, that you can’t seem to get over him. That you start thinking in an inappropriate way as soon as your eyes meet.

His lips met your neck, kissing and sucking on it. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, your body begging for him to come closer. As his kisses travel downward you cannot help but moan out his name.

“Y/N is everything okay?”, Mor calls out to you. The fantasy in your head is gone, leaving you restless, yearning for him.

“Yes, I’m fine”, you say, not looking up.

“No, you’re not and you know that”. She’s close enough to see your face now. “What’s wrong?”, she asks. Her eyes soften as she hugs you. Mor must have seen your despair.

“I- it’s nothing, really”. At her strict look, you wince a little bit. You want to tell her. But it’s just so embarrassing.

“I had sex. With Azriel”, you start over, taking a deep breath. But before you can continue, she exclaims: “By the Mother, that’s awesome! When? Why didn’t you tell me?”.

A tear builds up in your eye and before you know it, you’re crying into her shoulder.

“It- it… it was a couple years ago”, you finally manage to say. By now all you can really feel is embarrassment. “And it’s not awesome. Well, it was. But-“. You start sobbing again.

“It was a one-night stand. He… acts as if nothing ever happened, but I can’t stop thinking about it and whenever he looks at me, I-“. You stop talking. It sounds absolutely idiotic, even to you.

But Mor doesn’t look bewildered. Instead, she hugs you even tighter, rubbing your back slightly.

“What happens then, sweetie?”, she asks.

Sighing, you gulp down your embarrassment: “I miss him. A lot. He’s still there, of course. But afterwards he stopped talking to me the way he did before. We’re not as close anymore. And above all I not only miss our friendship …”, your cheeks heat up again, “Since him I’ve never had sex THAT good again, so I stopped having any altogether. And now I’m not only missing him and kind of into him, I’m also sexually frustrated and lonely”.

You did have sex with other males in the succeeding weeks. But none of them had been able to give you the same feeling he did. That indescribable feeling of closure and … being loved. Even though he most likely didn’t love you, because it took him a month to even look at you again.

Mor’s face is a mix of amusement and empathy: “Like… no sex in years? For a guy who fucked you so good but then what? Ignored you? Even though there was this feeling that nobody else could give you?”. You nod, and she actually starts laughing. “Honey, if you weren’t that sad it would be hilarious, because it sure as hell sounds like he’s your mate”.

Your entire world shifts in that moment.

Your sweaty bodies are tangled in his sheets, gasping for air. Azriel’s shadows swirling around you, purring in your ears. With his final thrust, the world around you seems to fade away. There’s just him and you, for a second you don’t even know where his body ends and yours begins anymore.

Shocked, you look at her. “I… that kind of makes sense? But he would’ve talked to me then, wouldn’t he? I … I’m so confused right now”.

Your thoughts are running wild. Was this the reason he ignored you? Because he was overwhelmed? Was he waiting for you to make the first step? Or… Or was he not interested in the bond and wanted to reject it?

“Y/N? Mor? Is everything alright? Rhys told me to look after you, you’ve been gone for quite a while now”. You quickly wipe away your tears at Azriel’s voice. What should you tell him?

Mor winks at you, already making her way back towards the entrance: “Everything alright, shadowsinger. You might want to stay and talk to Y/N for a second though”.

And just like that, Mor vanishes, leaving me alone with Azriel. His wings are slightly shuffling behind his back and his gaze on me looks worried.

“So, uhm what did Mor mean?”. His shadows are coiling closely around his arms, showing how uncomfortable he is.

You inhale slowly, making sense of your thoughts. You find no good solution, so you just decide to start at the beginning.

“A couple of years ago we… after a celebration for you when you came home from a mission we had sex. Do you remember?”. It was almost painful to say this while watching him. Not only was the atmosphere incredibly tense, but also the possibility of him actually having forgotten about it made you sad.

He frowned a little, “I do remember, Y/N. Quite well, actually. But I don’t get what you’re trying to tell me”. For a second, you believe to see a certain hunger in his eyes. An expression you had only seen once on him before.

Nodding, you continue, “There was this… this feeling back then. Something I’ve never felt before. And nobody else has been able to make me feel the same way. I told Mor about it…”

You can’t finish your sentence, he cuts in sharply, “Why are you telling Mor this after years?”. And to himself, almost inaudible, he murmurs, “Don’t think about the other males”. The anger on his face is devastating.

You are absolutely terrified, but know you have to tell him. So, you muster up all of your courage and speek the words aloud that had been on your mind ever since, “Because I am in love with you. Because I don’t know what I should do about this, as you’re so distant all the time. And I cannot take this anymore, I miss you. I hate seeing you with other females. When I can’t fall asleep I think about this connection I felt that night”.

The pure shock on his face quickly gives way to a broad smile. “And what Mor meant is that… when I talked to her and described that feeling to her, she said we are most probably mates”. The last word is purely a whisper hanging in the air between you two. Mates.

And then, without hesitation, he begins to talk. “The first time I felt the bond was about two weeks before that night, when I said goodbye to you before that mission. It was so painful to leave you behind…”

“Hold up, you knew of the bond?”, you question him. Guilt creeps upon his face. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you ignore me for weeks after we had sex? Do you know what this did to me? All these years and you didn’t bother to just talk to me?”. Hot tears again spill over your cheeks.

He comes closer, as to wipe your tears away, but you back away.

“Y/N, I thought you didn’t want the bond. That you rejected it. Or worse, that it was only one-sided, because I couldn’t feel you across it. Rhys told me that the safest way to know was to just sleep with you, because then the bond normally clears up, but it didn’t work. At least I thought so”. The look on his face is pleading, but still, all you feel is anger and loneliness.

“So you only slept with me because Rhys told you so?”.

“No! I did it, because I love you and wanted you, truly. I still wished that the mating bond would reveal itself. And when I thought that it hadn’t worked, I couldn’t bear to be around you. I was so angry at the Cauldron, because I felt unworthy. Again. Imagine being in my situation. Having a mate, but the bond not working completely, the other person unaware of what’s going on! I did what I had to do to protect myself”.

The vulnerability in his statement catches you absolutely off guard. A small smile formed on your face, as you walk a few steps towards him.

“Maybe we weren’t ready back then. Maybe it kept us waiting, because it knew we would need the time to work things out”, you suggest, closing the distance between you and him.

His eyes twinkle in the starlight, as he lowers his head, “Well, there’s only one way of finding out”, he says as he cradles your head in his hands. Slowly, he comes closer and closer, until you can’t endure the tension anymore and slam your lips on his.

His lips are velvet on yours, only intensifying the kiss after a few seconds. He holds himself back, almost painfully so. But you are yearning for him, for his touch. And as you licked his lower lip and he grants you access to his mouth, you felt it again. The euphoria racing through your veins. And as you kept kissing, it was as if a fog lifts itself and all of a sudden you can feel him, not only against your body, but also against your soul, interlocking with it.

He must have felt the same thing, as we both gasp for air almost at the same time. Azriel’s mouth twists into a smile as he kisses me again. His wings are now wrapped around you, obscuring you from any passers-by.

“I’ve waited 500 years to find you, my mate”, he says. The word echoing through me. Mate. Mate. Mate. You still can’t believe this is actually happening, as you send a wave of love across the bond. “But I would have waited 500 more for you. For this moment alone”.

At this, you kiss him again, unable to express your emotions any other way. “Let’s end this journey how we began it, shall we? With me in your bed”.

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel fluff #azriel smut #azriel angst #azriel x reader smut #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x reader angst #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel x reader one shot #azriel x reader imagine

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niqhtlord01 · 3 years

Text

Humans are weird: Merging multiple species into society

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

Across the landing field the ground crews were in frantic motion. Landing pads that had been used as temporary supply dumps were cleared, refugees and civilians were moved up for transport off world, and for the first time in seven months the Galaxian base commander braided his face tentacles.

From his office overlooking the entire compound, Commander Zavar kept watch of the progress from the corner of his eye while his main focus was on the mirror in front of him. Carefully observing his reflection he intertwined the several dozen chest length tentacles that grew just beneath his jaw into elegant patterns.

He hadn’t bothered to for the last few months as the braiding of tentacles was meant to show a sign of respect. A Galaxian with unbraided tentacles was essentially stating that whomever they spoke with they held them in low regard. Zavar hadn’t braided them for some time as he felt no need to show signs of respect to anyone under his command.

It had been months since the landing base was established with the intent to use it as a jumping off point in new offensives. When Zavar had been given command he felt that he would be helping bring an end to this bloody conflict by maintaining such a crucial facility. Yet just as the offensive was about to begin their enemies decided to launch a massive counter offensive on an entirely different continent. In short order the manpower which had been set aside for the Galaxian offensive was pulled away to mount a rapid defense and halt this no enemy offensive.

One by one troop ships stopped coming to his base and requested materials became increasingly diverted to other theaters of the war until finally this once crucial launching point became nothing more than a gas station for passing supply ships.

He grimaced as he made a wrong twist while braiding remembering his degrading morale and the effect it had on those under him. The drive that had once fueled Zavar was sapped away by months of repetitive supply transfers and paperwork, and this soon turned to ever laxening of base discipline among the work crews. When Zavar’s second in command came to him with information that several of the crews had taken an abandoned storage building and had turned it into an entertainment club of sorts, all he did at the time was put on his military cap and take a walk over to it for a drink himself.

That had all changed last night when in the middle of darkness moon Zavar had received an offworld communication from central command. After weeks of careful negotiation the human government they had agreed to join the war effort on the Galaxian side. A substantial force of at least four of their divisions had already arrived in system and would be sending down a battalion of 500 soldiers to further secure and expand Zavar’s base.

Within moment of the calls end Zavar had ordered all of his crews to standby and began issuing orders with renewed fire. As Zavar finished braiding his tentacles and looked out across his base he saw all of the landing pads had been cleared, and with moments to spare.

A loud rumbling could be heard and Zavar could feel the room slowly vibrating as he looked to the clouded skies.

Breaching through the murky grey clouds that had covered the sky for weeks Zavar saw a human landing craft. It was a bulky black mass of metal with a design reminiscent of an overweight bird Zavar thought as it slowly descended towards the base. He was slightly disappointed in the lacking design aesthetics of the human craft, but he had remembered that these transports were designed for carrying large amounts of troops to safe areas rather than enemy held landings. Zavar watched it for a few moments more before leaving his office and making for the landing pads.

It was a short ride from his office to landing pad three were Zavar met his second in command already waiting with a small detachment of honor guard. He exited the vehicle just as the landing craft set down sending gusts of wind out from the engines as they slowly died down.

As Zavar took his place at the head of the honor guard the loading door of the transport popped open with a loud thud and began to lower.

He had heard stories of humans before, how they were great warriors of the highest caliber, that their reflexes were heightened to such a level in the heat of battle they could see an enemy from miles away, that they could lose limbs and heal after a period of time only to forge new ones and return for more combat; truly these beings would bring a swift end to this war.

The ramp finally touched the surface of the landing pad and Zavar could finally see inside of the transport. What he saw rather surprised him however…..

At the top of the ramp stood several ranks of human soldiers dressed in combat gear, but at the head of them was a uniformed Kliptec; their serpent body draped across the decking of the craft.

Zavar cast a side long glance at his second who looked as dumb founded as Zavar was feeling before looking back at the Kliptec. Their upper body was humanoid in shape, yet they bore more hallmarks of a reptile. Scaled skin, slit like eyes, sharpened fingers, and in place of feet was a roughly six foot long tail.

As the Kliptec slithered down the ramp towards Zavar and the front ranks of humans followed Zavar was greeted by further confusion. Mixed in with the humans soldiers Zavar noted several other species not native to the human worlds.

A Draxic casually stomped forward with the ranks appearing to carry some form of heavy weapon casually over their shoulder, a Flinchestet with a communication device glided across the decking as if its limbs could not be bothered to touch the floor, a Valmorian with a red cross painted across their helmet stood alongside a Combra whose face had been ritually scared for the coming battles; but most surprising of all was the towering figure at the very back of the transport.

A hive warrior drone draped in the uniform of humanity. It held no weapon between its claws but Zavar was positive it would have no need of such a device to rip through the lot of them. Some of the honor guard made let out whimper of fear and one even went so far as to start to bring their weapon to bear.

With only a look Zavar’s second command was at the guard’s side and snatched the weapon from his hands in a single motion.

“Be. Calm.” Those two words were all he said to the guard before returning to his place next to Zavar, the weapon he had taken from the guard clutched at his side.

His men looked at their commander with silent awe as they saw Zavar look unphased at the sudden turn of events. Instead of humanity’s reinforcements they appeared to have been given a cavalcade of species that had once fought against humanity. In truth Zavar was deeply concerned about this development, but the one thing keeping him from panicking was his observations of the actual human soldiers present.

Their eyes lacked a sense of fear one would normally experience when coming upon something, or someone, so unnatural to themselves. They were alert and disciplined which was all that Zavar needed to know to reassure him that things were as they should be.

The Kliptec finally slithered in front of Zavar and gave a crisp salute which Zavar returned with a bow of comradery.

“Lt. Colonel Reginal Seth of the 17th Engineer battalion.” the Kliptec said.

“Base Commander Zavar Hatsval,” Zavar replied as he motion to his second, “and my second Xixvil Nog, of the Galaxian expeditionary force.”

“I must admit,” Zavar began as the column of forces began marching past the trio, “when I heard we were getting human reinforcements I was not expecting this.”

Reginal’s sighed and rolled his eyes as if he had heard that same statement a thousand times before.

“Our military allows anyone to enlist so long as they were born within our borders.” he stated as he turned to see his soldiers march by to the storage facilities. “It is an efficient system to use every natural resource available to your advantage, so why limit to a single species military?”

“We do not ask others to fight in our stead.” Xixvil spoke as he watched several humans walk by.

“And how has that turned out for you here?” Reginal said as his serpent mouth twisted to a half grin. “Because from where I am it looks like we’re here to fight in your stead.”

Xixvil’s mouth dropped open in shock before morphing into one of anger while Reginal continued smirking. Zavar thought he was about to see his second lash out when the hive drone he had seen before marched over to them.

It stood easily twice as high as a Galaxian and three times as high as the human soldiers around it. Its collection of eyes were constantly darting around randomly as if trying to observe everything at once while it hovered over the trio. It slowly opened its mouth to reveal rows of sharpened teeth as it surprised Zavar once again.

“Dro…..go…..where?”

In all of his life in the Galaxian military he had never heard of a hive drone capable of speech. In the past the Galaxian’s had fought several wars with the Hive and at every encounter the drone warrior caste was found to be near mindless killing machines without a queen’s control. To hear one speak in a language he could understand, let alone in broken sentences was enough to end the careers of several Galaxian biologists.

“Report to Sgt Morris, Dro.” Reginal said as if the tower beast of flesh and chitin before him was just another average soldier.

The drone’s eyes stopped twitching for a moment as if concentrating before continuing “Morris…..yes…find…Morris….going….now…sir.” It tilted a blade like appendage which took a moment for Zavar to realize it was saluting Reginal which the Kliptec swiftly returned.

“Carry on Dro.”

With that the drone shambled off after the majority of humans who had left the landing zone leaving only a few behind to begin unloading the battalion’s equipment. Reginal turned to them and handed them a data pad. “Once our gear is unloaded we will begin expanding the landing fields by three additional pads. After that we’ll start reinforcing the outer perimeter walls and compound infrastructure.”

Zavar took the data pad and began going over the details while Xixvil continued to watch Dro walk away.

“I do not mean to be rude, but why did you call that drone “Dro”?” Xixvil asked once the drone was far enough away.

Reginal shrugged, an oddly human gesture for such an alien being, before answering “That’s his name; Dro Harris.”

“It was my understanding that hive drones lacked the capacity to develop individuality.” Xixvil continued as he watched the drone in the distance stop in front of a humanoid looking figure before following them into a storage bay.

“Normally they aren’t able to, but humans have this strange ability to impart personalities into beings should they stay around them long enough.”

Both Zavar and Xixvil looked at Reginal dumbfounded.

“Are you serious?” they asked, to which Reginal simply nodded.

“One of his parents fought in the human hive wars and took an egg back as a trophy. Turns out it hatched and they decided to raise him as their son.”

“I can’t imagine humans reacted well to a hive drone in their midst.”

To their surprised Reginal shook his head. “From what he’s told me he used to be a successful actor before he enlisted; he was popular in fast food commercials.”

“Now I know you are making things up.” Zavar cut in, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“Humans do weird things like this all the time,” Reginal said, “they act distant at first but once they warm up to you the majority of them will welcome you with open arms and treat you like kin.”

He stretched out his arms so Zavar and Xixvil could get a good look at him.

“People assume humans are barbaric isolationist xenophiles, and while it is true there are some of them out there they do not make up the entirety of humanity.”

“There are humans that will sit down with complete strangers and within an hour be closer than brothers with them, humans that will drop everything to come help you even when there is no benefit to themselves, humans that will check up on you just to see if you are alright.”

“It’s weird but at times it’s almost as if humanity has been sick of just knowing only humans and will throw themselves at anything different just so they can experience something new, something exotic and exciting.”

Reginal looked at the two Galaxians as they took in what he had to say and shook his head. He gave a quick salute and then slithered after his men as the heavy equipment began rolling off the transport leaving the Galaxians in the dust.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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omgkatinka · 3 years

Text

Breaking and Entering

Summary: Your cat gets you into trouble with your grumpy new neighbour

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

>>> chapter 2

Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of abuse; anxiety, angst, grumpy neighbour / Also: English is not my native language and this is my first and probably last attempt at writing. I do not even know why I tried. This is eventually a result of procrastinating from learning for my exam next week. I mixed up tenses.

Also not betad.

Words: 2.127

Here you were. New Job. New city. New apartment. Again. The past years have been a hassle of starting over.

When did your life take that turn? When your mother died? When you had to leave your grandfather to live with your father because you were underage? When instead going to study English literature like you always dreamed of your father made sure you’d get some fancy business master’s degree? Or when your ex-fiancé abused you and no one believed you because he was not just abusive but manipulative. Your life possibly finally took that turn when you ran. Head over heels. Leaving everything behind but your cat. You stopped counting the places you lived. Well rather visited for you never stayed long. Sometimes your ex would show up and you’d flee. Or you thought you had seen him in a crowd and flee. Or you were getting restless. High Functioning Flight Mode. All the damn time.

Moving days were a constant companion and those days smelled like freedom. It was just you, your SUV and your cat. The little fella would proudly ride shotgun while you sang along your old school rock playlist. Your whole life fit into a car.

This time it is Minneapolis. Large city. Anonymous, easy to vanish. You scored a job at a major financial player. Major as in Fortune 500 major. Thankfully, you worked project based for a while now, so no one ever really questioned your constant moving all over the nation. If they ever read that far in your resume that is. Summa cum laude in combination with a Harvard degree opened most doors for you.

The furnished apartment you found was in a half decent neighbourhood for a change. It was not the smallest you’d lived in and it faced the back of the building onto a yard hosting a huge oak tree.

Settling into Minneapolis was easier than it should have been. Your new co-workers were friendly. Too friendly. Not one lunch break you would get to spend on your own. Especially Marta from accounting was keen to talk to you. She was lovely. It was not her fault you never made friends. Because you never stayed. But still, that insistent woman and a couple of more people gave you a sense of familiarity you would never have expected from a huge company like that.

Most of the new neighbours greeted friendly too. Most, apart from one. When you were unloading your car, he stood right in your way, a bear of a man, shooting you a death glare. Mumbling something about not being allowed to park here and stomping off. You did not pay attention to his word, being intimidated by his sheer size. A broad beast, grumpy at that. You made a mental note to avoid him. Great plan.

Here ‘s the thing with your plans: they tend to simply not work. Three weeks after starting over, you come home to for once not being greeted by Jack. Your cat Jack. Named after an infamous pirate because of his funny face and weird way to walk. Not being greeted by Jack stirred panic. He was old but almost never failed to wait at the door for you. He did not today. Searching the whole place for him you came up empty. When you realised, you had left the bedroom window open in the morning you started to hyperventilate. He liked to sit outside on the fire escape while you got ready in the mornings. Looking outside he is not there either. By now you were freaking out, running downstairs, calling for Jack. Climbing up the roof. Nothing. By now you were crying. Starting to search the apartment one more time. And then once more. At some point you cried yourself to sleep until you are woken up by frantic knocking at your door. While still trying to figure out where you’re at, you glimpse the clock. It says 2 a.m.. Great. And what is this noise? Right. Knocking. On the door. Furious by now.

Opening your door, you find your grumpy neighbour. Even more grumpy. Scowling. „Is this thing yours? “ he asks, lifting Jack into your line of vision.

As relieved as you were to have your cat back. That was when things got out of hand. Thanks to that scare you frantically double checked every window every day before leaving for work. All is good for five days. When you get home on the sixth though – Jack is gone. Again. And the window you double checked the very same morning is open. You panic. Torn between hoping Jack broke into your grumpy neighbours’ place again hence being safe and him sitting on the roof calling out pigeons. You check the yard, the roof. No Jack. Hesitantly you knock at Mr. Grumpy’s door. No answer. Going onto midnight you hear the elevator and spy onto the floor. There he is. You brace yourself and head out. Looking apologetic. „um Hi, I am so sorry, but my cat escaped again. Would you mind checking if he did break into your place again? “. He does not answer. Unless grunts count as answers. He just raises an eyebrow at you and tilts his head in direction of his door. You avoid breathing and follow him into his apartment. Where you find your cat sits lounging on the couch like he owns the place. You cannot help but snort. That is what you get naming the little fella after a pirate. Breaking and entering seems to be his thing. It takes you a moment to realise Mr. Grumpy is staring at you, so you take a deep breath, apologize again and introduce yourself. „You really need to close your windows, you know? Not just from keeping that thing in your place but also to keep others out.“. Telling him, you double checked your windows just earns you a headshake. And there is that critical eyebrow again. Great. Then it dawns on you „if your so adamant on checking windows, how do you think Jack got in here? “. Now he looks puzzled. „Who is Jack? “ he asks and you fight hard to not snort again. “The cat, obviously” you answer. That earns you another grunt. ‘Great at communication that specimen’ you think and grab your cat. “Uhm, I am so sorry he, uhm…, we invaded your place again. So so sorry. Thanks for your patience. Good night, Mister?” “Marshall”. And that is the last thing he says. “Well good night Mister Marshall”. At that you hold on to your furry, purring companion and head back into your apartment. From now it will be triple checking the windows it seems.

Three times within the next you need to get your cat from his new favourite hideaway during the next week. The only new thing is Mr Grumpy telling you “it’s just Marshall”. Everything else is the same. Like being trapped in a fucking time lapse. Him scowling, telling you to “fucking check your windows” and giving you that critical eyebrow of doom. Each time though, you start to notice things. About his place. About him. He seems to live out of boxes. His shelves are empty. The only cosy thing seems to be the fluffy blanket Jack made his favourite place on the black leather couch. Also, he wears a gun. And a batch. You despise guns but guess this one comes with the job. And his accent is foreign. No, not foreign, it is English. A bit like a lost, grumpy Mr. Darcy. WHAT? Mr. Darcy? You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you finally going insane? Now take your cat and get out of here!

How do you reason with a cat? You surely tried but the next time you have not even noticed Jack vanishing. It’s a Saturday and you were just filling your coffee cup when there is knocking on your door again. You open the door to a sleepy looking Marshall, holding Jack. Shrugging. Something is different. Taking your cat out of his huge hands you are about to apologize again, when he beats you to speaking “did you just make coffee?”. You nod and he steps into your apartment. “Well, come in, why don’t you?” you mutter and find him standing in front of your kitchen island, scratching his head, looking kind of lost. With huge eyes and a suddenly small voice he says “sorry for barging in like that, your little fella here woke me up. Pretty sassy for such a small guy. Would you mind sharing a cup of coffee? I forgot to go grocery shopping and seem to run out of everything.”. For a moment you stare at him, stunned from the number of words he just threw at you and the lack of grunts. When you remember how to use your words, you tell him to take a seat, grab a cup and ask him how he prefers his coffee. Fixing both your cups and setting them on the table you finally get to apologize again for your little intruder, constantly breaking into his place. Marshall just shrugs at that and admits, that he has no idea how Jack opens the windows. He himself started to double and triple check his windows and it should not even be possible to open them from the outside. It is that moment you realise what is different. He looks sleepy but barely as tired as before and more important. He’s not grumpy. That’s new. And you do not know how to handle that. After silently drinking his coffee, he thanks you for the coffee and crouches down to pet Jack and tells him something that sounds like ‘see you mate’, then tells you goodbye and takes his leave.

It is the next Friday that you come home to a post-it on your door with “Jack is visiting” scribbled on it. Somehow you remember your cat not being overly fond with men, but he seems to have a soft spot for this one. Or his couch. Taking a deep breath, you turn and move over to knock at the next door. Heavy relaxed footsteps near and Marshall opens the door widely, motioning for you to come in. “We were just about to choose a movie and call for pizza. Why don’t you change into something more comfortable and join us?”. You look at the man as if he did just grow two more heads. Raising his eyebrow at you he adds “maybe choose pizza before you head over, so I can order already”. Shaking off the initial shock, you apologize. Before you can actually try to take a leave, he sternly asks “did you have dinner?”. When you shake your head, he repeats “come on, it’s just pizza and a movie. And maybe we should use the opportunity to discuss a shared custody arrangement for Jack.”. At that your stomach rumbles and when you see the glint in Marshalls eyes, you know this is a battle not worth fighting. And you are hungry. You tell him your pizza order and head over to shower and get changed. You wonder how you are not nervous about this. Since things went south with your ex you could hardly stand to be alone with one man. Let alone spend the evening at his place for dinner and movie.

Back at Marshalls place he offers you a bottle of water and his cosy looking armchair. While himself settling beside Jack on the couch. He suggests watching pirates of the Caribbean and you accept, telling him that you actually named the cat after Jack Sparrow to which he counters “It’s captain. Captain Jack Sparrow.”. The evening proceeds with you watching the movie, laughing and having pizza. You are taken aback to realise he actually ordered some extra tuna for Jack. From time to time, you catch yourself watching Marshall instead of the movie. He seems so much younger when relaxed. And handsome. How did you not realise what a beautiful face hides behind those curls and that beard?

After the movie you grab your snoring cat and thank Marshall for the evening when he pushes something cold into your free hand. You need a moment to realise, that he just handed you a key and give him a puzzled look. “I told you we’ll need a shared custody agreement, considering this little one keeps breaking and entering and claiming this apartment. I often work long hours and when shit hits the fan even spend the nights at the office. You might need it to retrieve the lodger.”. With that he winks - well tries to and fails – and opens the door for you, telling you goodnight.

#henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall

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jennagrinsoverml · 3 years

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ML Fic Recs - Marichat

I’m back with your weekly rec list. As usual, I’m trying to rec fics that readers are less likely to have read. (I base that off of kudos on AO3, under 1k kudos, but trying to keep it under 500.) You can find my other rec lists on my blog under the hashtag #jennarecsml

If you enjoy these, please reblog so more readers can find these awesome fics!

Marichat is hands down the most popular side of the square, and that increased popularity makes it a little more difficult to find those hidden gems. So hopefully you’ll find at least one amazing fic you haven’t read before on this list!

Where timing is kind to us by @deinde-prandium

"What if there is a universe out there where there I’m a different kind of Chat Noir? Where some tiny decision, possibly not even made by me, has had the power to alter my reality as I know it in this world?"

An impromptu physics lesson on the roof leads to unexpected revelations. MariChat.

Written for the ML Writers Guild September 2020 Event. Based on the prompt: “Ever wonder how different your life would be if that one thing never happened?”

One-shot. This is one of my most favourite Marichat fics ever! It works on so many different levels and incorporates so many things I want to see in the show and I just love it. There some beautiful mutual pining here with an amazing, satisfying ending.

Crushed by @p-artsypants

Stuck under a collapsed building together, Chat Noir and Marinette have a heart to heart.

One-shot. Ladybug and Chat Noir get trapped, and Ladybug’s identity gets revealed. While they’re trapped, there’s nothing for them to do but talk and they DO and OMG the feeeeeelinggggssssss.

A Ring For Marinette by Rikkapikasnikka

When Ladybug's responsibilities start to catch up with her, Chat Noir suggests that she takes a break. He offers to watch over the Miracle Box, and he'll play the role of Mister Bug while she enjoys a mini-vacation. In the meantime, he'll select a temporary black cat he trusts to be his partner.

Nothing can go wrong! Just-A-Friend Marinette will make a purrfect black cat!

Okay, so this fic is technically incomplete and marked 1/2. And I very much hope it will be continued. However, it ends in a perfectly respectable place and can absolutely be enjoyed as a one-shot. And who doesn’t love a fic where Chat Noir tries to give Marinette a miraculous? Poor Marinette. The shenanigans!

The Right to be Angry by Cochrane

Chat Noir checks on Marinette after an Akuma attack at their school, and discusses how Hawkmoth affects his victims.

One shot. This is an amazing exploration of the chilling effect Hawkmoth’s attacks have on the city. Cochrane deftly ties into Gabriel’s emotional abuse of Adrien in a way that just breaks your heart. Add in a PERFECT Adrien POV and this is a fic you really want to read!

Glad We're Friends by @botherkupo

Marinette probably should have listened to her instincts the first time. It was risky to get too close to Chat Noir, even if they were just friends. (Because the fact her heart was pounding a little faster around him meant nothing at all. Absolutely nothing.)

One-shot. OMG the TRUST between them!!! Marinette cares about him so, so much, and he trusts her a ridiculous amount. And then there’s this amazing flirty banter between these two supposed just-friends and asdfghjkl

hope dangles on a string by FastPacedFreeFall

Marinette gets a surprise visitor, who comes bearing a little sore-needed solace.

One-shot. A Marichat coda to Dark Cupid, where Marinette and Chat Noir are both disappointed that they didn’t manage to confess to their crushes, so they get some comfort together. I really like the next in the series (they’re not sequels so much as different snippets the writer wants to see in the series), which deals with Adrien’s feelings after Syren too.

Her Good Opinion by @mikauzoran

“I only seriously flirt when I’m in love with someone.” Marinette rolled her eyes, losing patience. “Chat Noir, you flirt with me all the time.” Abruptly, he fell silent, and when he didn’t reply, she turned to look at him expectantly. He was staring at her with a strange expression, a mix of pain, sorrow, regret, and embarrassment. “Oh my gosh,” she whispered.

When Marinette discovers that Chat Noir has fallen in love with her on both sides of the mask, she has a hard choice to make…except that the answer is easy because she can no longer deny that she loves him too.

One-shot. I think Marinette really has a lot of misconceptions about who Chat Noir is and what he’s like in his civilian life and that’s played with to perfection here. It’s funny and sweet and soft and embarrassing and the ending is absolutely wonderful.

#miraculous ladybug #fic recs #ml fic rec #marichat #ml love square #ml lovesquare #love square #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #jennarecsml

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marblesphere · 3 years

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!⚠️Warning Angst, suicidal thought⚠️! If you are not comfortable, please skip this. I am having slight depression and some negative thoughts. It was not good to leave those alone, so I wrote them down as a fic. This also serve to comfort me. As my favorite character will comfort me. I hope you guys will find some comfort if you are having some negative thoughts too.

The void, is called the era of the highest peak of humanity. Though no formal record ever written for that era. The remains of the void are now scattered across the world, using lost language. No one could decipher it, leaving only imagination as how humanity was in that time. But the void is what they call that era. To another people the void is called the dark age. Rather than the highest peak of humanity. This is where humanity almost extinct due to world war. Each nations developed their own technology and conquered the other nation.

[Your Name], one of the survivors of the dark age. She is unable to age due to her nation’s human experiment. There are also some mutated animals survived the war. But they have gone hiding. Those survivors only have one goal. Avoid the present humanity to decipher the record of the dark age. This is for their own sake. For they couldn’t handle the memories inside those remnants. Right now, she is just a wandering. Destroying any remnants of dark age. Adjusting to a change, every now and then, she enrolled to a school, by manipulating some memories of the school higher up. She has no worries about her fund. She has a lot in her account which she also changed every now and then.

Present day, 20xx.

“Good morning.” I greeted my classmates. Chorus of good mornings are replied. The day starts like the usual routine. After the school is over, I will try to scout around the town at night. Seeing midnight is safer for me being out without being caught by schoolmates.

But tonight, I am in for a surprise. I meet someone I know very well. “Long time no see, [Your Name].” Zhongli smiled softly.

“It really has been a long time, Zhongli.” We stood in the highest building in the town. “How long was it the last time we saw each other, 500 years ago?” I blinked. The concept of time has lost to us.

“More or so.” He chuckled. “You are still wandering?”

“Yes. As you can see. I am enjoying my time.” I spread my arms. “Albeit, sometimes I feel a tad bit lonely.” I added the last part softly.

“Xiao looking for you.” I stiffened at his word.

“… I know… that’s why I am running away. I was only a burden to him. And it’s my fault turning him to a… monster…” I swallowed the lump on my throat.

“You know that is no one fault. Not his, not you.” Zhongli said.

I shake my head, denying it. “It is my fault. If I were just stronger, he won’t need to bear the burden alone. And he certainly won’t be fighting against the karmic debt right now. If only I were stronger.” I murmured. I close my eyes. Every time I did, I will remember that day vividly. Even the smell of blood. I still remember when the karmic debt manifested for the first time. I have never felt so scared in my life. How pathetic. Yes. I was really pathetic, being afraid of someone I still hold dear the most. That’s why I ran away, I couldn’t face him after being afraid of him. He must be scared too, must be alone too, yet…I..

“Xiao, what happened?” I approached him. It’s rare to see him so gloomy like this.

“Don’t touch me!” He growled.

“Xiao…?” I blinked, not understanding his command.

“I told you don’t touch me!” He growled finally turned to me. And then, I finally realize the gloomy baleful aura around him. Xiao let out a feral growl. “Xiao…” I tried to touch him.

“Go away!” His hand turned claw scratched me as he slapped my hand away.

“Xiao…what happened…?” my trembling hand still trying to reach out to him, ignoring the blood. ‘Scary… I am scared…’

“It’s you…” He snarled.

“Xi…ao…?”

“It’s all because of you! It’s because of you I have turned to a monster! I killed countless to protect you, yet I am the only one who turned to monster! Why is it not you?! You should be the one to become a monster. You are just a burden to me. A pathetic little thing. It’s better if you just disappear!”

“I…” I could hear something inside me snapped and break. “I…guess… I am…just a burden… then…please kill me… so…you can be free from a pathetic burden…” I whispered as tears flowed down uncontrollably. I close my eyes as I saw him raised his spear. But, at the nick of time, Zhongli burst in by kicking the door down. He restrained the rampaging Xiao, I vaguely saw Ganyu dragged me away from the scene.

I couldn’t sleep that day. I keep thinking about his word. Then, I come to a conclusion. I have to get stronger and stop being a burden. I have to get away from him. That’s the last time I ever see him again.

“He was devastated. You should know he didn’t mean it.” Zhongli sighed.

“No.” I shook my head. “He was right. I was a burden. I know I am. But, I didn’t try to avoid being one. Instead being the source of his karmic debt.” I smiled bitterly.

“[Your Name]…”

“If you are here. Then he must be not so far. I should get going then. Farewell, Zhongli.” I jumped down from the building. Having to move quickly. But, I was beginning to feel tired, having to avoid them at every turn. “Maybe it’s time to welcome my death. I have lived long enough. The dark age remnants also have vanished, though not all. But, Zhongli and the others are still here. It should be fine, right?”

Fortunately, I managed to evade him from finding out. I quickly go to hiding, searching for a place to rest, in other words my grave. My thought drifted to a small hill near our house at that time. The flower field there is magnificent. But, since that place is the nearest to our house, I will definitely found out by them. I look at my temporary house here, at the foot of mountain. This mountain peak should do the job.

Next morning, I climb to the peak. As expected. The view is nice, the breeze is nice. Everything is nice. “Then, this will do. As my grave.” I nodded in satisfaction.

“What do you mean by your grave.”

I snapped my eyes to the source. My eyes widened at the familiar person in front of me. “Xiao….” I breathed out his name. My mind is racing with a lot of thoughts, as in why is he here? How did he find out I will be here? I have made sure to cover my tracks every time I disappeared.

“What do you mean as your grave?” He took a step, unconsciously I took a step back. My eyes darted around, searching for any available escape route.

“[Your Name], answer me.” He pleaded. His voice trembled.

“I… just don’t want to be a burden anymore…” I averted my eyes from his piercing glare.

“…I…” He flinched. “I am…sorry… I didn’t mean…”

“It’s not your fault.” I quickly said. “It’s really was not your fault. It was mine. I was weak. More than anything I was scared of you. Even though you took all the burden from me. I was so scared that I didn’t know what to do. I am sorry…” I apologized. After a millennia not being able meet face to face. The first thing we say to each other is sorry. “I will get going soon.” I strained a smile. My mind is chanting not to cry and plead him to stay together. I have cause enough pain for him. I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve to be alive.

“No!” Xiao quickly grabbed my hand to prevent me leaving. “Don’t go.”

“I…can’t. I have caused you enough pain. I…”

“You are not burden at all. Because of you. I have enough strength to fight those karmic debt. My sole purpose of living is searching for you. If you are gone, then I too…”

“You can’t!” I yelled. “You can’t die! You have suffered enough. It’s time for you to experience happiness!... If you die, then…I” ‘For what reason, I have endured this loneliness for a millennia?’

“Silly.” He wiped my tears. “You have suffered enough too. You leave me because you believe you have cause me pain. But, it’s the opposite. I am alive because you are with me. Those words… were the manifestation of those karmic debt. They are not true at all. You are my light.” He put his forehead against mine. “Just like you said. We have endured enough pain. We should experience the happiness this world has to offer. My happiness lay with you. So, please, don’t leave me again.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“I… Can I really stay with you?” I hiccupped.

“Of course.” His arm around my waist tightened. “Let’s stay together from now on. Together, forever…”

“…Yes…” Xiao pressed another kiss, this time on my lips.

#genshin x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao x reader #xiao angst #genshin impact xiao #xiao fluff

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stockholmdolly · 2 years

Text

EASY PREY (BEWARE OF THE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD) 19

Pairings: Brock Rumlow x Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter being good bros.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 500

Author’s note: Hello fanfiction world, it is me! Stockholm Dolly. Chapter 19. This is a super short chapter but they’re getting close, although with the reader being a badass mama bear idk why they bother? They are pretty useless hahaha but now with Sharon maybe they can do their jobs. Happy reading...😈

CHAPTER 19/26 JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES / BROCK RUMLOW

We were in shock, mouths agape, opening and closing our mouths like a fish out of water.

- Sharon? What…How? Huh?

- Hahaha, I love to leave you speechless guys. Did you really think I was going to stay behind the scenes? I've been watching you ever since Barnes called me.

- Thank God, I was thinking this hunt was going to be a dead cause.

- No way, we need to catch those fuckers. I’ve some things I want to do to them, mainly Romanoff, the bitch was the one that made Steve turn his head back with my pardon, if it wasn't for you guys, I don’t know where I would be. You ready guys? We need to be focus, Barnes, I’m talking to you, I know your baby momma is in there, but you need to focus, we can’t get distracted, we’re fighting some skilled motherfuckers.

I allowed the relief, and in so doing, realized the sharpening of my vision once again—even sharper than before.

Did I mention how I trained to be a sharpshooter early in my career? Did I mention my better-than-20/20 vision? Barnes and I combined made for a virtual Superhero of sight and smell. Well, technically, he is a superhero even if he doesn’t want to admit it. So, without the distraction of sound, I could have seen to Texas if hills and buildings weren’t in the way.

Barnes hunched his shoulders and scrunched his nose as though truly bothered to be alive. I tried to focus on anything other than the silence, reading the signs on whatever lonely stores and restaurants we passed along the straightway on the straight road. The rain was the annoying, cold kind, the kind that won’t decide to stop or fall. A melancholic rain. Although mid-day, the sky was as dark as dusk.

So as Barnes, Sharon and I were going through the very middle of flat Indiana, and as my vision sharpened and my hearing dulled, I set my sights on shooting someone that day. Everyone who took a child and taunted me. And I felt every single one of them, they should suffer terrible pain and unbearable humiliation.

We turned where our truck owner told us to turn. The all-season tires scattered rocks along a dirt road, which had parts paved and parts unpaved. Unpruned apple trees, knotted and jagged with age, bordered the drive, and out beyond rolled the longest field full of cows I’d ever seen. How quaint I thought the fall arrival must have been for students when this country school was in its prime. Now it drooped in coldness and neglect, tortured by the lethargic rain, which barely cared to fall on this forgotten place. Everything was draped in a blackness above and an evil within.

Taglist: @cjand10

#steve rogers x natasha romanoff #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!natasha romanoff x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x brock rumlow #brock rumlow #sharon carter

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oh-boy-me · 4 years

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Could I get a headcanon of the demon boys' reaction to MC who is surprisingly string for their size or build?

I’m going back to some older asks--sorry it took so long to get to this!

Lucifer

“Humans are weak,” he thought. “MC needs my help to survive,” he thought. Haha bitch no they don’t.

The first time Lucifer sees MC lift something they really don’t look like they should have been able to carry, he’s about to rush over to take it from them. But, seeing them not struggle at all, he’s so shocked that he ends up cemented in place. He was gaping a little bit, but good luck getting him to admit that part.

He’s never going to truly get used to it, but he does appreciate the extra pair of hands around the house. However, MC has to be really careful about what they take up. Helping Lucifer move some heavy boxes because there’s a lot of them and it’ll save time? Sure thing. Helping Lucifer move a heavy box because it looked heavy? His pride won’t let them get away with that.

On the bright side, Mammon’s suddenly pulling his weight around the house. Lucifer can’t complain about that.

Mammon

Ok so what you do is set up an arm-wrestling stand and make mad bank and then

Mammon is in quite the pickle, because he keeps trying to show off to seem cool in front of his favorite human, but every time he offers to carry something they say they can do it and then actually can do it???? How is he supposed to look cool when they’re cooler?!

Maybe he’s being self-conscious, maybe it’s just an easy out, but he starts blaming MC’s strength for things that don’t make any sense. “If it weren’t for MC and their dumb muscles, I wouldn’t have forgotten to buy eggs!” Mammon, what are you talking about?

It’s not a problem, because literally everyone calls him out on how that’s bullshit and doesn’t make sense.

His quest to look cool in front of them never truly ends, so he’ll fight heavy lifting out of their arms and take care of it instead, under the guise of “you’ll hurt yourself” and “I’ve gotta protect my human.”

Leviathan

MC is lucky that Levi is technically still stronger than them, because that envious streak isn’t one that they’d want to have to deal with.

And since Levi is technically still stronger than them, we instead get the whiny, petty “why can they do that and I can’t?” Maybe it’s because you haven’t exercised in 500 years, Leviathan.

He’ll beg them to share their secrets with him. They’re human, right?! It has to be easier than whatever it is that Beel does! He wants to be stronger too, like the hero in I Want to Ask My Childhood Friend Out, but She Said She Would Only Date Me if I Won a Triathlon and I’ve Never Run a Day in My Life Because I Have Wings.

It’s definitely not because he wants to spend more time with them and hog their time and maybe see them in their element. Nope. No way.

Kind of wants to be carried by them, just once.

Satan

Little known fact about Satan: jars have a vendetta against him. Or, at least that’s what he says. In truth only about one in every ten jars he tries to open give him trouble, but when everything pisses you off that adds up to every single jar personally being out to get him.

And let me tell you, it doesn’t really make him feel better when sweet, unassuming MC is able to force it open when he wasn’t.

Oh but he’s not angry at them! He’s just VERY angry at the jars. Ok, well. He’s a little angry at MC for one-upping him, but he controls himself because strong or not, MC is still human and he could snap them like a twig if he isn’t careful.

Moving forward, he appreciates that he can ask MC for help with lifting and the like instead of Mammon or Levi or, ex-father-but-not-really forbid, Lucifer. But he’s not going to be direct about it. He kind of just pointedly complains about it until MC gets the hint.

Low-key he also wants to see MC beat someone up (preferably not him).

Asmodeus

To say that Asmodeus finds that attractive would be an understatement. Ooh, there’s just something about someone who could bench press you that’s so thrilling.

And to say that Asmo will walk anywhere ever again is a foolish assumption. Have fun carrying him, MC. He’s not very heavy, luckily, but he’s basically dead weight in their arms with how he drapes himself. And knowing that MC can support his weight, he will jump into their arms without warning. Or on their back. Anywhere, really.

He’s also never lifting a finger again, so have fun with that as well, MC.

If anyone threatens him or gives him attitude, he’ll threaten them in return, saying that he has a really strong human. And then he’ll actually call MC to try to get them to put Asmo’s money where his mouth is. Please don’t humor him here, MC.

It all seems rather selfish, but Asmo really adores MC and their strength, and he makes sure he drowns them in compliments whenever he’s being a spoiled princess.

Beelzebub

Beel is as strong as he is because of exercise and dedication. He breaks the assumption that he’s by default the second weakest of his brothers, so the fact that MC is also stronger than they look doesn’t surprise him all that much compared to the others.

(I feel like that’s a common thing with Beel--I guess he’s just good at accepting whatever new nonsense life throws at him lolol)

More importantly, though: does MC have a workout routine? Because if they’re doing something to hide all that muscle in that body, Beel wants in on that secret. Also he wants a workout buddy.

Can and will drag MC to the grocery store because that’s more bags of food to carry.

He can lift MC easily, but he’s excitedly looking forward to the day that MC can lift him.

Belphegor

The best word that Belphie can think of for this is “convenient.” Because he’s light for his size, and MC could probably carry him as well. And that means that finally--FINALLY--he has one more person he’s comfortable letting carry him to a better napping spot. When Beel isn’t home it’s really tough for him, y’know? Under the table isn’t fun, but no way in hell was he gonna let Levi pick him up.

Like Lucifer he’s a little bit like “what? I thought humans were all baby.” And yet he kind of thinks it’s cute? MC is so… human. But they can give a good fight. Like a small bear.

He will bribe and dare MC to get into trouble with him. “Hey MC, don’t you think that whole marble statue would look better in the middle of Lucifer’s study? Right on his desk. Or even better, let’s block the door. Yeah, the feng shui of the room is all messed up and I think a giant statue in the way would really help.”

They’re both going to get in so much trouble but seeing Lucifer’s face is enough of a reward.

Masterlist

#ok I'm back for real this time #I was like 'yes ok I'm finally caught up' and then the devs were like 'CHAPTER 28'#so I changed my requirement to being BASICALLY caught up instead of totally #obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #swd obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me!#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #needygirl17

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tbtssstuff · 4 years

Text

International Playboy || jjk

Summary: You meet BTS International Playboy and he just rocks your world.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Oral (m receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, Jungkook end up being a sweetie because I couldn’t resist

Masterlist

-TJ/ TacoAdmin 🌮

AN: Here it is! Happy birthday JK! Love you man 💜 Also thank you guys so much for 500 followers! I love you all too 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜 Note most of this they will be speaking in English since it’s in America

You and your friends decided it was a good idea to go to a club after a 3 hour long BTS concert. All of you were still feeling the concert buzz and none of you were ready to go back home yet, plus this was one of the lesser known clubs in Atlanta and it was right by the arena, so you thought why not? You didn’t even go home to change into club clothes, you didn’t feel the need to. Your BTS concert outfit was cute enough and you just wanted to party some more.

The club was full of people, but even though it was a lot less busy than any other clubs. You knew that because you could actually walk around and only get bumped into a couple times. Your friend pulled all of you over to the bar and ordered the first round of the night.

“To BTS.” She held up her shot, toasting the amazing night you all had.

“To Y/n!” Another of your friends shouts.

“Me? Why me?”

“Not only did you get us floor tickets to this concert, but you also got eye fucked by the one, the only, Jeon Jungkook! Girl you were living the fanfiction dream!”

You roll your eyes. “He wasn’t eye fucking me. I thought we established that.”

“Yeah we thought so too, but then you started dancing and I swear he almost tripped.”

You laugh at your friends and slammed back your shot. While it would be nice if what they were saying was true (well it did look like he noticed you during the concert, but he could have been looking at a number of things), you knew that it was just a fangirl’s imagination.

Jungkook and the rest of the group entered from a private entrance to the club. Jimin had convinced them all to go out before heading back to the hotel. ‘To loosen up.’ He had said, but Jungkook knew he wanted to get in a good fuck before the night was though and honestly Jungkook was going to join him.

Not in bed, but in finding someone to go back with him. He was in America and here he was THE international playboy, not the shy Jungkook back at home.

Jungkook scanned the sea of bodies before his eyes landed on you and your friends at the bar. You were wearing the same dark green deep V neck tank top and black shorts that he saw you in at the concert. He licked his lips, eyeing your entire being, and deciding that it was going to be you he was taking back to the hotel. Hell to the bathroom stall if he couldn’t wait.

Jungkook had been having all kinds of thoughts about you since he saw you in the crowd. He wondered what you would look like panting and moaning below him as he fucked you hard. Even though Jungkook didn’t know your name, you had such a strong hold over him. The pull was just undeniable, so it was just his luck that you were here.

“Jungkook?” Taehyung spoke up from beside him. “What are you looking at?”

“Ah.” He nods. “The girl from the concert is here too. Maybe I should go talk to her.”

Jungkook growled low in his throat as if to say ‘try it I fucking dare you.’

Taehyung wasn’t the type to steal a member’s conquest for the night or even cock block them, but he also liked to poke the bear and see how far he can go before getting his head bit off.

Taehyung just held up his hands and snickered as he watched his friend stalk into the crowd of people.

You were lost in the music, swaying your hips to the beat. You didn’t know where your friends had gone, but honestly you didn’t care at the moment. If things ended badly and they had left you, you could at least call an Uber.

You open your eyes for a second and are met with a surprising site. Jeon Jungkook was dancing close by and when you opened your eyes completely, you could see his eyes traveling down your body, his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. As surprised as you were, you were equally turned on by the thought of him actually checking you out. Turns out it wasn’t a fangirl’s imagination after all.

You wink at him before turning around and going back to dancing. Rihanna’s Rude Boy was coming through the speakers and you went all out. Hands starting at your waist, sliding up your body and above your head, hips swaying.

You were trying to bait Jungkook over and when you felt a large hand settle on your waist, you knew you succeeded. You peeked back for a second to see if it was actually Jungkook and not some creep, smirking when you met Jungkook’s lust glazed eyes.

Jungkook grips your waist and pulls you back to meet his chest, you could feel his already hardening erection poking you. You lean your head to the side, purposefully moving your hair to expose your unmarked neck to him, and look up at his face - smirk never leaving your face.

“Well if it isn’t Jungkook.”

It took Jungkook 2.5 to figure out what you were saying, but since he had been studying English it was a lot easier than it had ever been before.

“You remember me.”

“How could I not?” You scoff. “I’m more surprised that you remember me.”

Jungkook hums instead of giving you a real response. You were going to ask him again, but you gasp as Jungkook starts kissing your neck and grinding his hips into you. You shiver at his touch.

“Jungkook.” You moan.

“I remember you from the concert.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, “You looked so sexy and then you started dancing. I swear you were doing it on purpose.”

You shake your head, whimpering when he licks the shell of your ear. “I I wasn’t.”

Jungkook smirked at your stutter, happy that he was having the same effect on you that you had on him. Jungkook spun you around and put your arms around his neck then placing both hands on your ass, cupping and squeezing your cheeks.

“You weren’t?” Jungkook challenged.

You look up at him as sweetly as you possibly could, because honestly you weren’t trying to seduce him. You just wanted to enjoy your concert. “I promise.”

Jungkook chuckles and pulls you closer to him, even though you didn’t think that was physically possible, leaning down to your height. His eyes glance from your eyes to your lips and you know what he wants.

And you give it to him.

Closing your eyes, you meet Jungkook halfway, crashing your lips to him. You tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling him groan against your lips.

Jungkook runs his tongue along your bottom lip, begging you to let him in, and you open your mouth. His tongue dives in, messaging yours as the two of you fight for dominance, that Jungkook easily won.

You felt lightheaded from the kiss, from the lack of oxygen and from how good of a kisser Jungkook was. You pull away to try and catch your breath and smile as you watch Jungkook follow your lips.

“Where to?”

Jungkook smirked. He knew that both of you wanted the same thing and with you asking where just the push he needed. Quickly Jungkook takes your arm and whisks you out the back door of the club and into the alleyway.

He was searching for the car that brought them, your lips attached to his neck, but he couldn’t find it anywhere. Jungkook didn’t want to call an Uber because then that would risk the tabloids catching him, but at the same time fucking you anywhere would garner that same risk.

“Two places. Here in the alley or back in the bathroom. I can’t find the car.”

You pull him down to meet your lips, turning him around to push him against the side of the building. “Here is fine.”

Jungkook smiles at your eagerness and chooses the alley. You kiss down his neck, hand palming him through his jeans. Jungkook moans.

Quickly you drop to your knees in front of him and undo his pants, tugging them and his boxers down in one go. Jungkook’s cock springs free. You stare wide-eyed at it, mouth watering at the thought of it inside of you.

You knew Jungkook was big, but never in your life did you expect to see him this close. You grip the base of his cock and light lick the tip, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue. Jungkook groaned above you and it only encouraged you.

You suck the tip before taking it into your mouth, lowering your head until you couldn’t take more of him. Starting at an agonizing slow pace, you bob your head on his cock, your hand stroking what you couldn’t fit.

Jungkook threads his fingers through your hair, gripping the strands and tugging them. You moan around his cock and Jungkook moans as well, loving the vibration. You suck and bob your head faster, Jungkook’s grip on your hair tightens as he throws his head back, moaning into the night sky.

He knew he was getting close, but he didn’t want to stop you. Your mouth was so warm and wet around him, he could only imagine what your pussy was like. Before he could blow his load in your mouth, Jungkook tugs your head off his cock and you whine.

“I know baby girl, but it was just too good. I wanna come in that tight cunt of yours.”

You shiver at his words. You wanted that as well, just sucking him off had made you soaking wet and ready for his cock.

Jungkook helps you off your knees, only to flip your position so that you were pressed against the wall. Jungkook fiddles with the button on your shorts, sticking his hands past your panties once he gained access. You cry out as his fingers stroke your slit.

“So wet.” Jungkook coos. “Just by sucking me off? What a slut you are.”

You moan, letting your head fall forward as Jungkook inserts his fingers into your pussy and thrusts fast. “God! Please Jungkook!”

Jungkook smirks and removes his fingers, your slick coating his fingers. As you wiggled your way out of your shorts and panties, Jungkook pumps his cock, spreading your wetness all over him.

You brace both hands on the wall and stick your ass out for Jungkook to see. Jungkook bites his lip, one hand on your hip and the other lining himself at your entrance. You push yourself back, letting just the tip slip in, whining.

Jungkook pushes in slowly until he is all the way in. You moan at the stretch, fingers gripping the wall for dear life. He felt so good inside of you, pushing your walls past their limits, but you wanted him to move. You wanted him to fuck you into oblivion.

Gripping your hip, Jungkook began to pull his cock out before thrusting in all at once. You cry out as Jungkook continues to do that over and over, his nails digging into your flesh. You didn’t even care that you both were outside and anyone could walk by. All you could think was Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses under his breath, drilling into you harder. He knew he was close, but he wanted you to come first. Slipping his hand down to your pussy, Jungkook rubs your clit matching his thrusts.

A moan rips out of your throat as you cum hard around his cock, your walls tightening around him, making it a little hard to move, but Jungkook just helps you through your orgasm. Jungkook thrusts a few more times before he follows your lead, painting your insides white.

Both of you don’t move, just panting and trying to come down from wat must have been the best sex of your life. Jungkook pulls out of you, chuckling as you whine at the loss of him. He was about to say something, but the words caught in his throat as he watched his cum drip down your legs.

“Oh shit, sorry I don’t have anything to clean that with.”

You shake your head and pull your panties and shorts back up. “It’s okay. I can take care of it when I get home and besides I’m on the pill.”

Jungkook thinks about it for a minute before he pulls out his cell phone. “I’ll call for a ride back to my hotel, why don’t you join me?”

“Why didn’t you call it before?”

Jungkook shrugs. “I was thinking with my dick, not my head.”

You laugh as he dials up a number on his phone and starts talking to someone on the other end in Korean. You honestly thought he was going to leave you there to fend for yourself. Even though he was labeled an international playboy, Jeon Jungkook was always a nice guy first and foremost.

Tag list: @ladyartemesia

#jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x reader smut #international playboy #tacoadmin #tbtsstuff

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