#i love when powers/magic is used for practical things | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inseobts · 3 months ago

Note

Idk if u do request but can you do Scary reader x One piece men? Law, Shanks, Sabo, Ace, Croc, The monster trio & whoever else you want! Basically the reader is really scary but {{char}} finds their scariness attractive.

Attractive Scariness

a/n: sorry but at some point I got out of ideas lmao

characters: luffy, zoro, sanji, law, ace, shanks, sabo and crocodile

words count: around 0.4k - 0.9k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Monkey D. Luffy:

You’re used to fear.

The wide eyes, the shaky hands, the people stumbling over themselves to get away, etc. It’s always the same. Ever since you ate your Devil Fruit, people have called you a monster. Even when you’re not fighting, your presence alone makes people nervous.

So when you land on this island and step into a small village, you already expect the usual reaction.

And you get it.

The streets clear as soon as you walk in. The market stalls empty. Even the shopkeepers pretend not to see you.

You sigh.

“Again?” you mutter “I just want some food…”

You’re about to turn around when someone doesn’t run. A boy in a red vest and a straw hat stands right in front of you, grinning like he doesn’t even notice how scary you are.

No. He notices. He just doesn’t care.

“Whoa!” he exclaims, eyes shining “You’re super strong, huh?”

You blink “What?”

“I can tell!” He nods, completely sure of himself “Strong people have this feeling about them. And you feel really strong!”

You stare at him. That’s… new. No “stay away from me” or “please don’t kill me.” Just pure excitement.

Luffy tilts his head “What’s your power?”

You hesitate. Usually, this is the part where people scream. But he’s looking at you like a kid waiting for a magic trick.

You raise your hand. A shadow swirls around your fingers, shifting like smoke. The air around you grows heavy, dark, unnatural.

Luffy gasps.

“That’s so cool!”

“…Huh?”

“You can control shadows? Or darkness? Or... wait, is it nightmares?” He’s practically bouncing “Can you do giant shadow hands? Or make yourself super big? Or—”

You blink at him “You’re… not scared?”

Luffy grins wider “Why would I be? You’re awesome!”

This has never happened before. Ever. You don’t know what to do.

Then Luffy grabs your wrist “Hey, join my crew!”

Your brain short-circuits “What?”

“I’m Luffy! I’m gonna be King of the Pirates, and I need strong people on my crew. And you’re really strong!”

You open your mouth, then close it. You look at him, at his bright, careless smile, at the way he’s just standing there, holding onto your wrist like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like you’re just a person.

Not a monster.

“…You’re weird” you say.

Luffy laughs “People tell me that a lot.”

You stare at him for a long moment. Then, for the first time in forever, you smile.

“…Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll join you.”

Luffy cheers, throwing his fists in the air “Yes! This is gonna be awesome!”

You have no idea what you’ve just signed up for. But for once, you don’t feel like a nightmare.

You just feel like you.

Years have passed since you met Luffy. Since he grabbed your wrist, called you strong, and changed your life without even trying.

Back then, you weren’t sure what you were getting into. Now, you know.

Being with Luffy means chaos. It means waking up to find him hanging upside down from the ship’s mast, laughing like it’s normal. It means fighting beside him, watching him charge straight at danger without fear—because he trusts you to have his back.

It means love.

A love that is loud and wild, but also simple. Easy. Because Luffy has never been afraid of you. Not then, not now.

Right now, you’re on an island, sitting in the shade while the crew runs around. The villagers are keeping their distance, just like always. Even after all these years, people still fear you.

But it doesn’t matter anymore.

Because across the field, Luffy is waving at you, smiling so wide it makes your chest feel warm. He doesn’t care that people avoid you. He doesn’t care that you’re “scary”, to him, you’re just you.

He runs over, plopping down next to you with a grin “Whatcha doin’?”

You raise an eyebrow “Sitting.”

Luffy gasps dramatically “No way. That’s crazy.”

You snort, shoving his shoulder. He just laughs, leaning against you without a care in the world.

For a while, you sit there together. The sun is warm, the breeze is nice, and Luffy is… Luffy. He hums a little song under his breath, playing with your fingers like he’s fascinated by them.

Then, he says “You know, you’re kinda scary.”

You pause “Oh?”

He nods “Yeah. Like, super scary. When you fight, people freak out. Even Zoro said you’re the last person he’d wanna fight seriously.”

You wait for the usual words to follow. Monster. Freak. Too much.

But instead, Luffy grins and squeezes your hand.

“I love it.”

Your heart stops for a second.

Luffy keeps talking, like he hasn’t just turned your entire world upside down “It’s awesome! You’re so strong, and you do that cool shadowy thing, and when you get serious, even the bad guys look like they’re gonna cry.” He laughs, eyes shining “It’s really cool.”

You don’t answer right away. Because what is there to say?

For so long, your power was a curse. Something that made you different. Something that made you alone.

But here, with Luffy, it’s just another part of you.

“…You’re an idiot” you mumble, looking away.

Luffy laughs “Yeah, but you love me.”

You roll your eyes “Unfortunately.”

He gasps “What?!”

You shove his face away, and he just laughs harder, wrapping his arms around you like an octopus. He clings to you, laughing and warm, and you sigh, pretending to be annoyed.

But the truth is, you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

Because you are strong. And scary. And Luffy loves it.

And that is more than enough.

── .✦ Roronoa Zoro:

Zoro knows strength when he sees it.

He can sense it in the way people move, in the way they breathe. Some fighters hesitate, some carry doubt, but you don’t.

From the moment he meets you, he can tell. You don’t just fight. You hunt. And for some reason, he can’t take his eyes off you.

It starts on an island known for its warriors. The crew stops to rest, but Zoro wants a challenge. A real fight. So when he hears rumors of a swordsfighter so deadly that even bounty hunters avoid them, he doesn’t hesitate.

But when he finds you, it’s not what he expects.

You’re not some old master or a towering brute. You’re just… you. Sitting under a tree, sharpening your blade like you have all the time in the world.

Zoro stops a few feet away, arms crossed “You’re the one they’re all scared of?”

You glance up. Your eyes are sharp, your aura heavy, and for a second, it’s like the temperature drops.

Zoro grins. Oh, yeah. This is gonna be good.

You sigh, standing up “You here to fight me too?”

He smirks “Yeah. Unless you’re scared.”

Something flickers in your gaze, something dark and dangerous. Then you smile, slow and sharp “You’ll regret that.”

And then you move.

It happens fast. One second, you’re standing still. The next, your own blade is inches from his neck. Zoro barely blocks in time, his instincts the only thing keeping his head attached.

His blood rushes.

You don’t fight like normal swordsfighters. Your movements are smooth, calculated, but there’s something more. Something predatory.

Zoro grins “Not bad.”

You tilt your head “Not bad?”

And then you attack for real.

The clash of steel echoes through the trees. Zoro meets each strike, but he can feel the difference in the way you fight. You don’t waste movement. You don’t test him. You go straight for the kill.

Most people would find that terrifying.

Zoro finds it hot as hell.

His smirk widens “You don’t hold back, huh?”

You don’t answer, but there’s something in your eyes... curiosity, maybe. Like you’re testing him.

Good. He likes a challenge.

The fight goes on, fast and brutal, but in the end, neither of you go all out. It’s just a taste, a promise of something more. When you finally lower your blade, Zoro does the same.

You study him for a moment, then nod “You’re not bad either.”

Zoro huffs a laugh “High praise.”

You sheath your sword and turn away “I’m going back to town. You coming or what?”

He watches you go, smirking to himself.

Yeah. He’s definitely interested.

Years Later – Zoro should probably be concerned that his partner is one of the most terrifying people he’s ever met.

But he’s not.

In fact, it just makes him like you more.

Right now, you’re standing on the deck of the Sunny, staring down a group of bounty hunters dumb enough to challenge you. You haven’t even drawn your sword yet, but the way you look at them, sharp, unreadable, deadly, makes them hesitate.

Zoro leans against the railing, watching with amusement. He already knows how this will go.

One of the bounty hunters shifts nervously “Y-you gonna fight or what?”

You tilt your head, smiling faintly “You first.”

There’s a moment of hesitation. Then they charge. Big mistake.

Zoro watches as you dodge effortlessly, your blade a blur. The fight lasts seconds. By the time you sheath your sword, your opponents are on the ground, groaning in pain.

Silence. Then, Luffy cheers from the mast “That was awesome!”

Zoro smirks. Damn right it was.

You turn to him, raising an eyebrow “You just gonna watch?”

He shrugs with a smirk “I was enjoying watching... and didn’t wanna get in your way.”

You walk over, stopping in front of him “You’re getting lazy.”

He scoffs “Oh yeah?”

You lean in, voice low “Yeah. Maybe I should fight you next.”

Zoro feels a familiar rush of excitement. His hand twitches toward his swords “You sure you can keep up?”

You smirk “Try me.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

Lost in you, in the fight, in the thrill of having someone who meets him blow for blow.

You’re terrifying. And beautiful. And stronger than hell.

And he wouldn’t have you any other way.

── .✦ Vinsmoke Sanji:

Sanji has seen all kinds of people. Beautiful women, powerful warriors, even actual monsters. But he’s never met anyone like you.

You meet in a quiet, dimly lit tavern. The crew stops for a meal, and Sanji, always on the lookout for interesting faces, notices you immediately.

You sit in the darkest corner, barely touching your drink. Your posture is relaxed, but there’s something wrong about it, like you could strike at any moment. The air around you feels heavy.

People glance at you and quickly look away. A group of bounty hunters at a nearby table seem tense, whispering among themselves.

Sanji watches as one of them inches toward the door. His hands are shaking.

That’s when he realizes, they’re afraid of you. A lot.

Sanji takes a slow drag of his cigarette. Interesting.

“Hey cook, what are you doing there, standing like an idiot.” Zoro says while they all sit at a table.

He’s about to turn back to his crew and reply to that marimo when the bartender makes a mistake and accidentally spills a drink on your sleeve.

The entire tavern stops breathing.

The bartender goes pale “I—I’m so sorry—”

You say nothing. You don’t even look at him. Just slowly, carefully, you pick up a napkin and wipe your sleeve.

The silence stretches.

Sanji almost laughs at how scared everyone looks. What, do they think you’re gonna kill him for a drink spill?

The bartender swallows “Please, let me—”

“It’s fine” you say.

Your voice is quiet. Smooth. Too calm.

The bartender flinches anyway.

Sanji watches as you set the napkin down, push your drink away, and stand. You turn toward the door, and the crowd parts around you, everyone desperate to get out of your way.

Sanji, curious as hell, does the exact opposite.

He steps into your path, smiling “Leaving so soon?”

You stop and lift your gaze, as everyone there gasps.

Most people can’t meet Sanji’s eyes for long. His confidence, his sharpness, it makes them squirm. But you?

You stare right through him.

For the first time in a long time, Sanji feels his heart skip.

“…Who are you?” he asks.

You tilt your head slightly “Does it matter?”

That voice. Calm. Slow. Like a knife dragging against silk.

Sanji exhales smoke, smirking “I’d like to think so.”

You study him. And for some reason, he feels like he’s the one being hunted.

Then you smile, small, unreadable “See you around… cook.”

And just like that, you’re gone.

Sanji stands there, heart pounding as he thinks, oh, I’m in trouble.

Years Later – Sanji likes to think he doesn’t scare easy. He’s faced warlords, monsters, and the wrath of Nami’s fist.

But nothing terrifies him more than the way you just appear.

“Sanji.”

“GAH—!”

He jumps, nearly dropping the plate he’s holding. You’re suddenly right next to him, quiet as a shadow.

He clutches his chest “How do you do that?!”

You blink “Do what?”

“That!” He gestures at you wildly “I didn’t hear you at all! You just—just materialized!”

You tilt your head, amused “I walked in.”

“No, you haunted in.”

You hum in thought “Maybe you should pay more attention.”

Sanji groans, running a hand through his hair “You’re gonna kill me one day, I swear.”

“Wouldn’t be much fun,” you say, smirking slightly “I’d miss this.”

Sanji pauses. Then, with a slow, dramatic sigh, he pulls you into a hug.

You stiffen at first, but he’s patient. He knows you’re not used to softness.

When you relax, he kisses the top of your head “You’re cruel, y’know that?”

“Am I?”

“You make my heart stop every damn day.”

You smile against his chest “Good.”

── .✦ Trafalgar D. Law:

Law prides himself on being composed. No matter the situation, he never loses control.

But then he meets you, and for the first time in a long time, he feels something close to unease.

It happens on a stormy night. The Heart Pirates dock at a quiet island, and Law sets off alone, drawn by rumors of a dangerous individual hiding in town. Some say you’re a ghost, others call you a demon.

He doesn’t believe in superstition. But he believes in threats.

So when he finds you in the ruins outside of town, standing perfectly still, eyes dark and unreadable, he watches you carefully.

“You’ve been causing trouble” he says, testing your reaction.

You don’t move. Don’t speak. The wind howls through the ruins, but you remain as still as a statue.

Most people shift under his gaze. But you? You don’t even blink.

Law narrows his eyes “Who are you?”

Finally, you tilt your head “You already know, don’t you?”

Your voice is calm. Steady. Wrong.

It reminds him of the quiet before a scalpel slices skin.

Law tightens his grip on Kikoku “What’s your ability?”

You step forward, and the ground cracks beneath your foot. A shadow flickers at the edge of his vision, stretching unnaturally.

“Does it matter?” you ask.

Law doesn’t flinch. But something deep in his chest tightens.

Because he knows that feeling. The quiet hum of danger.

And yet, instead of fear, he feels something else. Intrigue. He's actually really attracted and he can't deny it.

It takes Law a while to notice. To really notice.

Because you’re fearless in battle. You fight like a force of nature, silent and merciless, the kind of presence that makes enemies pray they don’t cross your path. You don’t just win fights, you end them.

And yet, when you’re with the crew, you’re… different.

Law catches it in small moments.

The way you ruffle Bepo’s fur when you think no one’s looking. The way you always make sure Penguin and Shachi get extra food after a long day. The way you quietly fix things around the ship before anyone else notices they’re broken.

And he feels it most with him. Like when you sit beside him in the submarine’s dimly lit halls, comfortable in silence, just existing next to him without expectation. Or when you lean against him after a rough mission, exhaustion making you a little softer, a little less guarded.

Or, most obviously, when you think he’s asleep.

He catches you once, fingers brushing against his hair, barely there, like you’re memorizing the shape of him.

He should say something. Call you out. But he doesn’t.

Because for some reason, the realization that the person who terrifies even seasoned killers, is so unbelievably gentle with him?

It does something to him.

Something dangerous.

Years Later – Being in a relationship with you comes with some complications.

Like right now.

“Sit still, damn it” Law mutters, pressing bandages against your side.

You sigh “It’s just a scratch.”

Law glares at you “It’s a stab wound.”

You shrug “Same thing.”

He clenches his jaw, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him “I swear, you are the worst patient I’ve ever had.”

You smirk “And yet, I’m still your favorite.”

Law groans, but he doesn’t deny it.

Because despite everything, your terrifying strength, your eerie presence, your complete disregard for injuries, he can’t help but be drawn to you.

You are the only person who unsettles him. And somehow, you’ve also become the one person he trusts the most.

He huffs, finishing the bandages “Try not to die.”

You grin, leaning in “Worried about me, doctor?”

“Tch” He flicks your forehead “Shut up.”

And despite himself, he smiles.

The next time you get hurt, Law doesn’t even bother hiding his frustration.

“You’re reckless,” he mutters, tightening the bandage around your arm “One of these days, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

You watch him, amused “Would you miss me?”

He scowls “Shut up”

You smirk “You would.”

Law clicks his tongue, looking away. He hates how smug you sound. Hates it even more because you’re right.

Instead of answering, he sighs, finishing the bandage. Then, before he can talk himself out of it, he presses a hand against your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

“You’re lucky I like you” he mutters.

For the first time, you freeze.

Then, slowly, you smile. And Law knows he’s in so much trouble.

── .✦ Portgas D. Ace:

On a nameless island, a pit stop for pirates and criminals alike, Ace hears the rumors first, stories about a lone warrior, someone so deadly that even bounty hunters won’t go near them.

He thinks it sounds like fun.

So when he walks into a bar and sees everyone stiffening at the mere sight of someone sitting in the corner, he knows he’s found you.

You sit alone, idly spinning a knife between your fingers. Your expression is calm, unreadable, but the tension in the room is thick.

Ace grins, making his way over “Mind if I sit?”

You don’t look up “Do what you want.”

He plops down across from you, resting his chin in his hand “Y’know, people are real scared of you.”

Silence.

Ace watches you carefully. You don’t move like a normal fighter. There’s something off about the way you breathe, the way your presence lingers like a shadow stretching too far.

It should probably freak him out.

Instead, it makes his blood rush.

“So,” he continues, smirking “What’s your deal? You a bounty hunter? Are you here to fight?”

You finally meet his eyes. Your gaze is sharp, calculating, like you’re dissecting him without lifting a finger.

"I was just curious who everyone was talking about, turns out it was you."

“…You’re not scared of me?”

Ace grins wider “Should I be?”

The knife in your hand stops spinning and or a split second, the air feels heavy.

Then, slowly, you smirk “Maybe? You tell me. That's what you came here for, isn't it?”

Ace laughs. Loud, bright, genuine.

And just like that, he decides that he actually finds you very attractive, and isn't letting you go so easily.

Years Later – Ace still remembers the first time he saw you fight.

He has always been the kind of guy who laughs in the face of danger.

He doesn’t hesitate to charge into battle, doesn’t flinch at the thought of death. He’s faced warlords, marines, even entire armies.

But when he saw you fighting? For the first time in his life, he felt like prey, even if you weren't fighting him.

How you moved like a phantom, striking fast, silent, merciless. How your enemies barely had time to scream before they hit the ground.

Everyone calls you terrifying. A monster. A nightmare in a human form.

And yet, right now, curled up against him, grumbling sleepily as he wraps his arms around you Ace can’t help but laugh.

You groan “What? You going crazy now?”

“You,” he teases, resting his chin on top of your head “You’re supposed to be the scariest person alive, but look at you.”

You swat at his chest “Shut up.”

Ace just grins, pulling you closer “Nah. I like reminding you.”

"You're always so annoying..." you say turning to not let him see you blush.

Because despite the way you fight, despite the way you terrify your enemies, Ace has seen what no one else has.

How you tuck into his blankets when you're alone. How you always make sure the crew eats before you do. How you fuss over him when he pretends his injuries don’t hurt.

You act all tough, all sharp edges and killing intent.

But Ace knows the truth.

You’re soft. At least, with him.

And that makes him fall for you even more.

He turn your head so that he can see you and with a smirk he says "Don't worry you're hot both ways, I don't mind your soft side at all"

Then he kiss your forehead and you try to hide again, making him laugh softly.

── .✦ Shanks:

Shanks has seen a lot in his life.

He’s fought warlords, crossed paths with the most dangerous men on the seas, and stared death in the face with a grin.

But when he meets you, he realizes he’s never met someone who could scare him and turn him on at the same time.

It happens in a crowded port town, where pirates and mercenaries walk side by side, tension thick in the air. Shanks and his crew are enjoying a round of drinks when Benn nudges him, nodding toward a shadowed corner of the bar.

“Oi, I found out that one’s got quite the reputation.”

Shanks follows his gaze and sees you.

You sit alone, posture relaxed but too still. There’s something about you... something in the way the people around you refuse to meet your eyes, in the way the bartender serves you with hands that tremble, scared to even do his own job.

The crew isn’t easily shaken, but even they seem wary.

Shanks just grins. Because if there’s one thing he can’t resist, it’s a challenge.

“Think I’ll go say hi.”

Benn sighs “Of course you will. Never doubted it.”

Shanks strolls over, drink in hand, and slides into the seat across from you without asking.

You don’t react. Just lift your gaze and meet his like you’re peering into his soul.

He whistles “You’ve got quite the stare.”

“You’ve got quite the nerve...” you reply smoothly.

Shanks chuckles “I get that a lot, actually.”

Silence stretches between you. He expects you to get annoyed, to tell him to leave, but surprisingly you don’t.

You just watch him. Measuring. Calculating. And damn if it doesn’t send a thrill up his spine.

Finally, you speak “You’re not scared of me.”

Shanks smirks, tipping his drink toward you “Should I be?”

Your eyes glint with something sharp. Dangerous. Interested.

“Maybe not, but who knows.”

Shanks leans forward, grinning “I like my odds.”

"I can see it..."

Years Later - “You’re doing it again” Benn mutters.

Shanks blinks “Doing what?”

Benn nods toward you. You’re across the deck, casually sharpening a blade, the crew giving you a very wide berth.

“You’re staring like a love-struck idiot” Benn sighs.

Shanks laughs “Can you blame me?”

Because despite years of being with you, despite knowing exactly how terrifying you can be, Shanks still finds himself completely captivated whenever you're fighting or not.

He’s seen you end fights with a single strike, watched entire battlefields fall silent at your presence. You are ruthless when necessary, the kind of person who doesn’t waste time with threats, just action.

And yet when you think no one’s watching, he sees the little things.

How you make sure the younger crew members eat first. How you adjust someone’s coat when they’re not paying attention. How, late at night, when exhaustion weighs heavy, you let yourself lean into him.

And Shanks?

He eats it up.

Because out of everyone in the world, you choose to be soft only with him.

Later that night, as you both sit on the deck watching the waves, Shanks stretches, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You roll your eyes but don’t push him away.

He grins “Y’know, for someone so scary, you’re kinda sweet.”

You turn, raising a brow “Wanna say that again?”

Shanks chuckles “Not if I value my life, and I do.”

You smirk, leaning against him just a little.

And that small, rare gesture is worth more to him than any treasure. He's totally in your hands, can you believe it? Because even he something looks at himself and shake his own head at the thought, but at the end who cares? He's with the most attractive person out there.

── .✦ Sabo:

Sabo isn’t the type to scare easily.

He has fought world nobles, infiltrated enemy territory, and stared death in the face more times than he can count. Fear isn’t something he entertains, it’s something he’s learned to push aside, to control.

But when he meets you?

For the first time in a long while, he actually hesitates.

It happens in a revolution-friendly town, the kind of place where people whisper about rebellion but fear retaliation too much to act. Sabo’s here on business, but what he doesn’t expect is to hear a name spoken in hushed, almost fearful tones.

A name that isn’t a government official or a bounty hunter, but yours.

“Who are they?” he asks a local, intrigued.

The man pales “Someone you don’t want to cross.”

Sabo just smirks “Is that so?”

He should probably be cautious. Should probably listen to the fear in the man’s voice.

But instead, he just wants to meet you more.

You’re exactly as the rumors say. You're cold, calculating and dangerous.

When Sabo finds you, you don’t attack him. You just watch him. Still. Silent. Your presence alone feels heavy, like the weight of an unseen blade resting against his throat, daring him to make a wrong move.

Most people would crack under it.

Sabo just grins “Heard a lot about you.”

You don’t react “Likewise.”

He hums, studying you. Most would be unnerved by your unwavering stare, the cold calculation in your eyes. But Sabo finds it fascinating. Finds you fascinating.

He hums, studying you “And? What’s your verdict?”

Your eyes narrow slightly, assessing him like he’s prey “Too early to tell. I don't judge based on rumors.”

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, a quiet tension settling between you. Sabo knows he should be cautious, he knows he’s facing someone whose strength is being feared even among revolutionaries.

But all he can think is — Damn. They’re kinda hot.

Years Later – It’s funny.

Everyone fears you. The Revolutionary Army sees you as a force of nature, one of their strongest, deadliest members. You’re efficient in battle, merciless when necessary. People whisper about you in the same breath as high-ranking officers, speaking of you like a phantom, something to be respected, but never approached.

But Sabo sees more than just the deadly aura that makes people tread lightly.

He sees the way your eyes gleam with amusement when a mission goes exactly as planned. He sees the way you tilt your head in interest, studying your enemies as if they’re puzzles to be solved before being discarded. He sees the way you move, every motion precise, effortless, a dance with death that you never lose.

And he loves it.

Loves the sharp edges, the lethal grace, the way you make his heart race, not with fear, but with something far more intoxicating.

And yet, he also sees the moments no one else does.

You, sitting beside him late at night, absentmindedly tracing circles against his palm.

You, making sure Koala doesn’t overwork herself, leaving her favorite snacks on her desk without a word.

You, rolling your eyes but still letting Sabo pull you into a hug after a long mission, even though your reputation could probably shatter just from being seen indulging him.

“You know,” he teases one night, tilting his head, “for someone so scary, you’re kind of a softie.”

You give him a flat look “Take that back.”

Sabo laughs, eyes gleaming with challenge “Nope. Never gonna happen.”

You grumble something under your breath but don’t pull away, and he counts that as a win.

Because out of everyone in the world, he knows you’re only ever like this with him.

And as much as he adores every part of you, it’s that razor-sharp danger in your eyes, that power in your every movement, that makes his blood sing.

It’s terrifying. It’s exhilarating.

And damn, does he love you for it.

── .✦ Crocodile:

Crocodile has met aaaall kinds of people.

Cowards who grovel at his feet. Fools who think they can challenge him. Liars who smile while plotting his downfall.

But you? You don’t fit into any category.

Because when he first meets you, standing over the broken bodies of bounty hunters, face calm, eyes cold, he doesn’t see fear. He doesn’t see arrogance.

He sees power.

And for the first time in a long while, he’s interested.

When in Rainbase, long after the fall of Baroque Works, Crocodile has been rebuilding, regaining influence, cutting down anyone foolish enough to think he’s lost his edge.

And then you show up.

A ghost in the desert, they call you. A storm without warning. The kind of person who doesn’t make threats, just leaves bodies in their wake.

Crocodile hears the whispers. He almost ignores them.

Until one of his men ends up dead.

Then it's when he decides it’s time to meet you himself.

He finds you in a back alley, wiping blood from your blade.

You don’t look surprised to see him.

“You’ve been causing many problems” he says, exhaling smoke.

You tilt your head, unconcerned “That depends on who you ask.”

Crocodile’s lips curl into something amused. He’s used to people trembling in his presence. But you? You just stand there, watching him with the same detached intensity one might give a corpse.

It should irritate him.

Instead, it makes his blood thrill.

“I don’t like loose ends,” he says “So tell me, why shouldn’t I kill you?”

For the first time, you smile.

Not kind. Not warm.

Just sharp. Cold. Dangerous.

“You could try, I'm happy if you try.”

The air shifts.

Crocodile’s grip on his cigar tightens. His instincts, honed from years of surviving the worst of the worst, tell him that fighting you would not be easy.

And he likes that.

Years Later – Most people don’t look him in the eye.

Most people don’t speak without permission, don’t challenge his decisions, don’t dare to stand too close.

You do all of that.

And Crocodile lets you.

Because unlike the weaklings who grovel before him, you don’t need protection. You don’t need his power to survive.

You’re strong. Cold. Unshaken by blood or war.

And that makes you the only person truly worth his time.

One night, you’re both on the balcony of his hideout, looking down at the city below.

Crocodile exhales smoke, glancing at you “Most people would rather die than be in my company.”

You don’t even blink “Most people are weak.”

He chuckles, low and dark “That so?”

You finally meet his gaze, and in your eyes, he sees something sharp. Something dangerous.

Something that matches him.

He smirks.

Because finally, after years of dealing with fools, liars, and cowards, he’s found someone who is exactly his kind of monster.

2K notes · View notes

cissa-calls · 8 months ago

Text

Reflecting on the scene of young Lilia in a gown the color of goldenrods in bloom and sunshine, racing to meet her teacher and begin learning what it is to be a witch. Learning what would have been the end, her end, was heartbreaking yet healing. She was full of anticipation and ambition and life, before the weight of prosecution, guilt for having predicted and watched her coven die, and having to bury her magic (once her source of power) became known. When she stays behind to trap the Salem Seven, she tells Jen with more love and conviction that she has spoken in the entire show:

“I loved being a witch”

Lilia finally realizes her path, steps and accepts what it means to know herself. To practice witchcraft, as proved in the trial by reading her own tarot instead of Billy’s, divination is not only more than kooky sector of the craft, but an act of her agency. An extension of herself. She can relinquish guilt and shame, but doesn’t grieve, despite only realizing this when her time seems to be running out. After all,

“The flow of time is an illusion”

When Lilia let go of the table in the trial room, falling in a gown evoking a character who represents all things good and dressed once again as a queen of cups, she is floating, flying. She is more than a batty woman. She is a cunning witch, and she always will be. So, while Death is guaranteed, it is not the end. That’s why the end of the episode is the earliest we see young Lilia. Her life is a tapestry, not a timeline. The cycle repeats and life goes on, as her mentor says:

“Let us begin.”

#this episode is perhaps my favourite #it proves that it is never to late to discover and recognize yourself #*too #GET PATTI HER EMMY NOW #lilia calderu #Patti LuPone #I love you Lilia #agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha all along spoilers #agathaallalong #episode 7 #hahndavision #marvel #mcu

3K notes · View notes

anam-mana · 7 months ago

Text

It fascinates me that Alistair gets lumped in with the “Chantry Boys” in discussions about Dragon Age Archetypes because it’s just. Very untrue. But it’s an idea the text actually pushes you to connect with in a way I think is purposeful.

This guy introduces us to the lore of the Blight by asking if we want “the chantry version or the truth.” If we ask if they’re not the same thing he smirks and says with some attitude “they rarely are.”

He sums up his religious beliefs saying he’s “not especially” Andrastian, and that “believes in the Maker well enough.”

He’s actually LESS religious than Zevran, who describes himself as fully Andrastian with a regular prayer routine in optional conversation branches.

The things that people use to categorize Alistair’s supposed “Chantry Boy” boy status all have non-religious motivations.

For example, the big one, his virginity, is because 1. He’s nervous around women, which is the gender he finds most attractive 2. He’s actually the youngest Party Member, being freshly 20 years old. 3. And most importantly, he correlates sex with love and was brought up to see them as requiring the other and so feels uncomfortable having sex without what he sees as “true love.” And he just hasn’t been in love yet.

Another example would be his reaction to the Urn of Sacred Ashes. He reacts with wonder akin to Leliana where many others react with a contrasting blasee attitude. Even the Andrastian Zevran.

But you gotta read between the lines here. Zevran doesn’t hold remains as sacred. He’s an assassin. So his prophet’s body is in that urn. It’s a body. The least remarkable and most mundane, perhaps even the hardest to swallow, thing she could ever be to Zevran is a corpse. Kinda takes the wonder out of faith for an assassin if she dies and rests just like any one else.

But Alistair is fascinated, in awe. 1, probably because the Chantry he doubts so much now has some kinda proof that something they said was true, unlike what he previously believed. 2, Alistair is WAY more patriotic than he is religious and we gotta remember that the Fereldans pride themselves on Alamari heritage, and Andraste was probably the most powerful and influential Alamari person to ever live. 3, he’s actually a giant history buff. He info dumps history on you often, with the memorized readings of whatever question you ask. If asked about the King and Loghain before the betrayal at Ostagar, he shows respect for Loghain’s service in the War for Independance, and knowledge of his tactics. And when speaking about his time in training with the chantry as a child, he says the education was actually what he liked most. And a lot of his gifts are things like replica soldiers, Fereldan historical things, maps, (along with his interest in magical artifacts but that’s for another day.) etc. Given his patriotism and love of learning history, yeah, the Urn is a big deal to him.

I have more things I could say, but really, I just find Alistair to be one of the most misrepresented by fandom characters. His character has a TON of subtext that challenges you to look beyond what others represent him as and the low opinion he holds of himself.

The perception of him as Andrastian and devout is one pushed on him by people like Morrigan (and others to some degree) who fights Alistair more like a straw man representing society than she engages with him as himself. She sees him as a Templar even though he left the order specifically because they abused him And he fundamentally disagreed with their practices, The Harrowing specifically being what pushed him to fight to leave.

There are, textually, two ways to interpret Alistair. Through face value aesthetics and symbolism pointing to association with the Chantry and by observing other’s opinion of him. Or through actually listening to what he says and watching what he does.

And it’s just interesting to me that a lot of people get caught in the trap of what he represents aesthetically rather than who he is.

#alistair theirin #alistair dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age #da:o #da: origins

3K notes · View notes

jweekgoji · 8 months ago

Note

I quite like Cybertronian!Reader, who can transform into a motorcycle. So Reader's size is just taller than a human. They can still stand in the palm of a larger Cybertronian's hand. What do you think?

TFO!Chars/Motorcycle!Reader [hcs]

tw: size difference, mentions of possessive/overprotective behavior. chars mentioned: D-16/Megatron, Orion Pax/Optimus Prime, Elita-1, B-127, Sentinel Prime, Darkwing, Airachnid. word count: ~2000 a/n: the size difference is sooo yummy thank you for request anon

D-16/Megatron

One of the tallest from the miner gang. When D-16 finally gets his cog, be ready for a constant tease from him. I feel like cogless D-16 is the most respectful one, he understands how hard it is for you to fit in a society where physical differences play a huge role in how others would treat you. So every time you get into trouble, he will pick you up and like «my apologies!» before quickly walking away since he does NOT want to be punched for the second time this day. He is a total sweetheart, but please, don't be like Orion.

Cogged D-16 is more bold. He is happy he can finally transform, and he desperately wants to test the limits of his own powers. You might walk next to Orion and Elita-1 one moment, and then he quickly grabs you from behind, placing on his shoulder with a «here, let me help you» which is kinda sweet if you think about it.

He also has that tiny overprotective side in him, which is borders with possessiveness. If Orion tries to ask D-16 about it, he will get defensive. What is wrong with him, helping his fellow bot? He never means to disrespect you, his intentions are pure, it's just happens that he is taller and stronger than you. How ironic.

I still believe that, as Megatron, he never treats you as someone weak and unable to protect yourself. He admits that you're skilled, you are a capable warrior if necessary, but he'd rather keep you close than let you wander around others. His touch is careful, his whole servo covers most of your frame, and he loves it, but he's not sure about the others. He doesn't trust them with you. If other decepticons try to mumble even the slightest insult towards your size and alt-mode, he will act as if they dare to insult Megatron himself. [reader is hot enough to replace you whenever I choose, Starscream!]

Orion Pax/Optimus Prime

Cogless Orion is a huge troublemaker, and he is reckless, despite his good intentions. He constantly wants to prove himself, to Sentinel, to others and to you. He can see you struggle with everyday life, and he wants it to make it better for you. Orion often brings you some tiny energon cubes he stole during one of his secret visits to the archives, or maybe it's some pretty shiny thing he gets you because he knows you love it. When he sees your optics almost sparkling in amazement when he holds a trading card of Micronus Prime and you immediately go to reach it, he will be like «what's the magic wooord~?» playfully making you try and reach for it. He's not a bully, usually he quickly quits it and gives you it anyway, but he just adores that cute, tiny smile on your face.

The height difference between you and Orion once he gets his cog is even more noticeable. But after everything, there are noticeable changes in his behavior. He sees you from a little different perspective (no pun intended), and he practically looses that playful and teasing side of his now that he has many responsibilities on his shoulders.

If Megatron is a bot who prefers to hold you close to himself, standing on his shoulder, Optimus is the one who would kneel so he can look into your optics. Now that he's a Prime, a real, kind and caring one, it might feel a little different for you because with Sentinel everyone was used to looking up at him. What Prime would stand on his knees for a small bot for you? You're dear to him no matter what size you are, and he wants you to know that you're important to him.

^ a tiny addition, but he's the bot who probably would like having you on top of his alt-mode, a tiny bot on top of a truck. It gives more mobility during a fight, and he can be sure you're safe next to him. a cute sight for autobots, but a dangerous combo on the battlefield for others!

Elita-1

Elita doesn't really care if you're short or tall, she is more occupied with her own thoughts about how to deal with today's mission and get her promotion. If you do your job well and listen to her orders without being a trouble, she also has no trouble with you. She's not rude, just a busy woman who is thinking about her career, you know? But if you somehow are friends with her, she can spare a minute or two to have some rest.

I feel like she shares the overprotective trait with D-16 if you're much smaller compared to many other bots. Mines are already dangerous for everyone, so she has to keep her optics on you 24/7 so you wouldn't get in trouble, for example, if you accidentally got stuck by a rock or lost somewhere. She explains it like «I don't want to lose my chances of promotion because of you» but it is only a partially true.

Cogged Elita is as bossy and commanding as before, but now she's more open about her feelings about you. You two have some similarities between your alt-modes, you're both cybertronian motorcycles after all. << but the size difference between her and you are a little funny tbf. She might give you the same treatment as Orion with her «I am better than you» talk, but she quickly adds all your other unique abilities. You're fast, brave and strong despite your size, despite often being teased by others, you never give up and continue to fight. She's inspired, and she makes sure you know that she adores you for it. But when someone else tries to pick on you, she will punch them straight into their face.

B-127

You two are both short. Congratulations! But somehow...he's not the shortest on the squad? Bee doesn't see anything wrong with you being small, if anything, he will try to make it look like it's the coolest thing he has ever seen. He is just happy to have new friends, especially the ones who can talk back to him! like «what do you mean you can transform into a motorcycle? that's like super, mega, ultra AWESOME! can you drive while standing on your one wheel? can you do some cool trick??» he's your biggest fan.

B-127 is really touchy with you, mainly because he had never talked with other bots for cycles while being stuck on level 50. He likes to hug you, pull closer to himself, and nuzzle his cheek against your helm, sometimes even doing it without realizing it because he has so much energy and affection he has to release, and you're just around him...it's hard not to give you some love.

This guy probably makes you his victim of loooong, long talks. He will keep you close to himself, and you just HAVE to listen to him talking about Steve, how he struggles to pick a new nickname for himself, and how happy he is to have a cog and finally work for the government...! Bee is very enthusiastic, it doesn't hurt at all, but he has this death grip around your frame that you have no chance but to listen to him. He probably doesn't realize that he holds you, maybe he's unconsciously a little scared of being left all alone.

Sentinel Prime

That man is a bastard. And a huge prick. If he chooses to let you have your own cog, that's probably for his own amusement. I mean, with or without a cog, what difference would it make for him? If anything, he might accidentally kick or step on you if he wasn't careful enough, so consider yourself lucky because he was in a good mood to spare your life. Maybe with a cog, you would be more useful for him?

Personally, see him as a bot who would have you on his shoulder/palm while posing for some photo just because he wants to look like a very respectful guy. Look at him, some tiny two-wheeler and THE Sentinel Prime? Ohh he's so kind and caring for all of his citizens! But he just does this for a boost of confidence and support from other bots. Whatever helps him rule over Iacon and get energon faster?

In private, if you have a closer relationship with him, I can definitely see him loving your small frame the most. Other bots I mentioned before pay a little to no attention to it, for Sentinel this is a thing that makes him feel even more powerful.

He's careful around you, his touch is gentle and soothing, but in his mind, it's tempting and hot; one wrong move, and he can easily damage you, but he never does it because he is in control. You're lucky he likes you or just finds you amusing to keep around. He's a control freak.

^ definitely into holding you on his lap if he has a chance. you can mind your own business until he randomly picks you up and places you where he wants it.

Dakrwing

He is a jerk too, but at least he doesn't hide it. It really depends if you just got your cog recently or if you were with it all your life. If you were a cogless miner before, Darkwing has no mercy for you. He needs his work done and fast, after all, it is an order from Sentinel and he doesn't care if it's too hard for you to hold mining equipment that is almost as big as you. Do your job or he will report you, there's no other expectation. << but he might pick on you more than on anyone else just because of your size. Poor you.

If you were born with your cog and one of the elite cybertronians, might be a racer too, I can see him being softer. As a cogged bot you have a lot of free time, and most bots usually spend their time racing or minding their own business but let's say, you are popular enough to be noticed by him, who happens to be your biggest fan. If he spots you walking through the streets of Iacon he will awkwardly approach, holding his poster of you, shyly asking for you to sign it. His height and voice in intimidating but he acts like a total fanboy around you.

Airachnid

The spider lady is scary, intimidating and a little freaky. Most of the time she's really quiet next to you, whenever you are in the same room, listening Sentinel yapping about something unimportant as usual, you will notice her glancing at you. At first you might think it was an accident, the second one as just awkward, the third time she would not look away once you notice her staring. she has that little pleased smirk on her face whenever she sees you.

Airachnid is probably the second one of the tallest bots here. she's taller than Sentinel (but I'm not sure if she's bigger than Megatron with Megatronus cog), her spider-like appearance makes most bots uncomfortable and it will surprise her if you weren't at least a little scared of her. she's not the one to openly tell you that she enjoys the height difference between you and her but her silent interest tells you everything. her optics always focused on you and no matter how small and stealthy you are, you have no chance to make a move past her.

#transformers one #transformers x reader #transformers one x reader #d16 x reader #megatron x reader #sentinel prime x reader #orion pax x reader #optimus prime x reader #elita one x reader #bumblebee x reader #darkwing x reader #airachnid x reader

1K notes · View notes

ktownshizzle · 7 days ago

Text

Pigments & Playlists [Final] | myg

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Between makeup and music, you find the one person worth blurring the lines for. ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluffy coworkers to lovers, idol au, older woman (by a few years), smut ✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, Undercut Yoongi!!, MC-noona is the embodiment of “independent check, got her own check”, office shenanigans as always, exhibitionist kink, fingering, edging, very minor pain kink, use of a blindfold, power play (im new to writing this so pls forgive any errors), unprotected p in v, idk tell me if i missed any of it, unfair/sexist HR practices, insinuation of self-harm (assumed wrongly), MC hatin’ on HYBE, happy ending woohoo ✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 9k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: June 21, 2025 ✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Yoongi’s discharge today. So proud of you, baby! 💜 Thank you so much @tea4sykes for your brilliant ideas, betareading, and basically keeping me motivated in writing this! Love yew! ✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes 2: Hope you guys enjoy reading this~ Made it a personal goal to publish today, because I didn't know how June 21 was gonna go for us, but I was sure it was going to be emotional. Consider this a gift from me to you. However you may be feeling today, I hope this makes you smile.

[Full taglist to follow in rbs.]

Part One | Yoongi Masterlist

So Yoongi disappeared after he did that. Frankly, how dare he?!

Way too many thoughts swirling in your head while you lay awake and there is no way you’ll be able to sleep.

Your arm flies across the bed as your hand pulls your nightstand drawer and fumbles inside for the one thing you need to help yourself relax…

Nah. Not the rabbit.

Tiger Balm.

You dab a bit on your temples and the tip of your nose and inhale deeply, letting the menthol work its magic. Yup. That’s the stuff.

Unfortunately, you’ve been staring at the ceiling for an hour, heart thudding like something’s wrong. Except nothing’s wrong. You kissed. That’s all.

You kissed and now you’re thinking about it way too much. Not because it was bad. Because it was… something.

And because the more you think about it, the more it’s starting to scare you how much you need it to happen again.

You sigh. Rub at the menthol on your nose, frustrated it didn’t thwart your torturous thoughts.

And then you do the logical thing. You call.

It rings once. Twice.

“...Noona?”

His voice is low, a little scratchy. Not groggy, just sleep-warm.

You swallow. “Sorry. I know it’s late.”

“Nah it’s fine,” he says. “You okay?”

You hesitate. “Kind of.”

There’s a pause. He doesn’t fill it. Just waits.

You exhale, quiet. “Remember when you said I could call you if I couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“This isn’t about my ex though,” you say.

“Okay.”

“It’s about you.”

That makes him hum. You hear the faint rustle of his sheets, like he’s sitting up.

“Me?”

“Own up to what you did.”

Faint chuckles crackle through your phone and you can almost imagine how he looks. Eyes like the moon, shoulders bobbing, grin smug as shit.

“What did I do?”

You groan, tack his name at the end of it.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he says after a beat. “Is that a problem?”

“I don’t know yet,” you reply. “It makes me anxious.”

He hums softly. “Because?”

“Because I liked it,” you say. “And I kinda hate how much I’m thinking about it. And you’re probably chill.”

There’s a long silence.

Then he says, calm and careful: “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Thought you don’t date coworkers.”

“And then there’s you.”

You let out a huff—relieved, breathy, kinda giddy. “That’s… okay.”

“Yeah.”

You sit up in bed, pulling your knees in.

“I was gonna wait,” you admit. “To see if you’d make the next move. But then I figured that’s dumb. I’m not a teenager.”

“No. You’re definitely not.”

“You don’t mind it?”

“Mind what?”

“That I’m older?” You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see.

“Noona,” he breathes. “I’m not really someone who cares about things like that. At the end of the day aren’t we all just human beings trying to find a connection?”

God this man. Your mouth moves before you can think about it any more. “If you’re not too busy… you wanna come over sometime?”

There’s a pause. Just enough to make your stomach flip.

“Noona,” he says, teasing, “are you asking me on a…”

“Yes, Yoongi,” you cut in. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

He laughs. Really laughs. Low and bright and warm through the speaker. You want to bottle that sound.

“Technically, I did ask first,” he says. “But yeah. I’ll come over.”

You kick your feet under the duvet before replying, “Okay.”

You talk more.

About nothing. About music. About how Namjoon’s on his ass about a song. About how he’s been working out. You tease him mercilessly about how he just casually dropped the last part.

At some point, the sky turns blue.

When you finally hang up, your body feels softer, a little less anxious. And when you fall asleep, it’s his cute throaty laugh still echoing in your head.

“Yoongi, will you please stop making that face? I’m trying to even out your eyeliner,” you scold, trying not to laugh.

Yoongi, the piece of shit, still keeps at his :] while you skim a q-tip along the outer corner of his eye.

“Yoongi-hyung, why are you acting cutely?” Hobi asks from the next chair. “Are we even filming right now?”

A flush creeps up Yoongi’s cheeks as he responds, mock indignant, “What? This is my face. Not my fault I was born cute.”

You meet Hobi’s eyes in the mirror. Then, he winks. You immediately look away, vaguely mortified.

Wait—does everybody know?

Trying to recover, you boop your powder puff on Yoongi’s nose, sending a cloud of setting powder into the air. “Quit it.”

He coughs once, laughing as the puff drops to his lap. Okay shit, good thing he is wearing khaki slacks and not black pants. But finally, he relaxes.

“Noona, you have a Rejuran appointment later,” Jimin chimes in.

Your head snaps up. “What? How did you…?”

Jimin grins from across the room, eyes glued to your phone screen where it’s charging in one of the other stations. Your sockets were full, so you left it there earlier and a calendar alert must’ve popped up.

“You’re so nosy, Jimin.”

“What’s Rejuran?” Hobi asks, peering over with mild curiosity. “I’ve heard that somewhere.”

“It’s just a kind of facial,” you say breezily, catching Hyein’s knowing glance as she smooths Hobi’s hair with her Dyson. These boys don’t need to know your anti-aging secrets.

“They inject salmon sperm into noona’s face,” Jimin announces with a totally straight face, mischief glinting in his eyes.

“Salmon what?!” Yoongi blurts, snapping his head up to look at you. Hobi recoils with a horrified grimace.

“Park Jimin, when I catch you—!”

Jimin squeals and ducks behind a rack of stage outfits as you toss a blending sponge in his direction, trying not to laugh yourself.

The commotion dies down, and you go back to packing up your powders, muttering under your breath, “It’s not even that weird. Just some polynucleotides. Helps stimulate collagen. Keeps the wrinkles at bay.”

Hobi raises a brow. “I don’t see wrinkles, noona.”

“Exactly.” Now it’s you who sends him a wink back.

Yoongi lets out a low chuckle. You glance at him and catch him typing something into his Notes app. Thankfully everyone goes back to their own damn business.

A second later, Yoongi tilts the screen toward you just enough for you to read it: Friday night?

Your hand holding a brush freezes for half a second over his cheek.

He’s already looking away like he didn’t just casually drop that invite.

“Okay,” you mumble softly under your breath.

The lilt of his lips tells you he heard it anyway.

The door buzzes. You’ve been so chill all day. Still chill. You're chill. (No, you’re not.) You rush to open the door before you make him wait too long.

Yoongi looks… casual. Just a black sweater layered over a gray tee, soft black pants. Hair tucked neatly under a beanie. He looks like your neighborhood ahjussi.

“Noona,” he says, voice muffled behind a white face mask.

“Wow. You’re on time.”

“I try to impress on the first date.”

You try not to smile too big, but fail.

He takes his mask off and hands you a small paper bag. “Dessert.”

You peek inside. Cream puffs from that place in Sinsa-dong that always sells out by 3 PM. “Did you have to bribe someone for these?”

“I have my ways.”

Dinner is simple, something you can make with your eyes closed. Miso salmon, cilantro lime rice, and a cucumber salad. You make this at least twice a month. You could’ve cooked steak or some grilled chops, something that gave a more date-night vibe, but you wanted to make the menu fool-proof.

You eat at the kitchen counter with his insistence, saying you didn’t need to set the dining table all fancy. (“It’s just me.”) So you sit close together on your bar stools, knees almost brushing. He clears his plate like it’s the best thing he’s eaten. You beam.

“Noona, this is really good,” he says, tapping a napkin against his mouth.

You smirk. “Better than Jungkook’s?”

He slides an arm on the backrest of your chair. “Are you as competitive as the maknae?”

“I’m just playing.” You chuckle. “I know mine’s better.”

He smiles, watching you quietly but intently as you sip your wine.

“What?” you ask, his stare is warming the side of your face.

“Just... haven’t done this in a while.”

“Eaten?”

“No.” He tuts, picks up his wine glass and sips before explaining, “Sat with someone like this. Them cooking for me. In their home. Talking.”

Your stomach dips. Not from nerves this time. From the way he admits it. Simple. Open.

You shrug, keeping it light. “Well. You’ve still got it.”

“Got what?”

“You know… the kids call it rizz.”

He laughs heartily, and you feel his fingers curling against your arm. “Was worried I might’ve lost my… rizz.” He overenunciates the last word, his lisp decorating the edge of the sound.

You raise your brow, not buying it. “Liar.”

He bites his lower lip and shakes his head at you. Your eyes track the way his pretty teeth sink against the pink plush and ugh. Again with this rizz.

After dishes are rinsed and placed in the dishwasher and dessert’s split between bites and laughter, the two of you end up on the couch. His arm stretched along the backrest yet again, just shy of your shoulder. Your head tilted toward his, but not touching, even if you wanted to.

There’s some Netflix movie playing in the background, purely for vibes. Neither of you are really watching. You talk about work. Gossip a bit. He asks about that corner shelf in your living room, the one with the knick knacks. You tell him stories about your travels, touring with Seventeen. He says you have the same lucky cat figurine from Hong Kong.

You try not to let his voice get under your skin. It’s different hearing his warm, caramelly tone when you’re not otherwise occupied with evening out his contour or with the buzz of a hair dryer in the background. It’s criminal how smooth it is when it’s all you need to focus on, even more so when he’s being earnest.

He glances at your hand resting on his thigh. (How did it get there???) Then up at your face. You nod before your brain realizes that he in fact did not ask a question.

But then he leans in and all thoughts fly out the window. His lips taste like vanilla cream and maybe the wine you shared earlier. It’s sweet. Even better than the first one because you’re ready for it.

You shift closer, hands finding their way to the hem of his sweater, thumbs brushing warm skin underneath. His breath catches a little. And then his fingers are trailing up your arm, until they settle gently on your jaw. His thumb presses against your cheek, coaxing your mouth open so he can press his tongue against yours. You feel dizzy with want.

His hands stay respectful, never wandering too far. Just the faint brush against the back of your neck, the side of your thigh. But every press of his calloused fingers leaves a quiet, contained fire in its wake. You need more.

You move closer, straddling his lap, never breaking contact with his mouth. He kisses you deeper, sloppier when your weight settles against him. His tongue licks into your mouth expertly and you welcome it. It teases you long enough to make you wonder how it might feel in other places, too.

Like butter, you're melting, unraveling as his hands find more courage—one sliding up, pausing at your ribs, then higher to cup your tits. He groans into your mouth and it nearly ruins you. You roll your hips forward, barely a grind, just enough to feel him straining between you. Just enough to hear him groan again.

You make out for what feels like an eternity. But you think you’re both on the same page, when your mouths move a little slower, softer. Air starts to seep between your lips as you retreat. You’re somewhere between wanting more and knowing it’s not time. Not yet. But god, it’s close.

Eventually, he leans his forehead against your shoulder, both of you breathless–maybe a little embarrassed.

“I should probably go,” he murmurs, even as he hugs you tighter at the waist.

“Probably,” you sigh, his undercut grazing your neck and igniting a dull, sweet tickle.

You stay like that for a moment, sharing the soft beat of your hearts as they slow back to normal.

He finally rises, slipping back into his white sneakers as you walk him to the door.

“Thanks for dinner,” he says, lingering by the frame.

“Thanks for coming,” you reply, fingers tightening on the knob as you hold it open.

“Next time, my place?”

“Already booking that second date?”

He pulls his mask on, but not before you catch the shy grin he tries to hide.

“I’ll bring dessert,” you offer.

“Just bring yourself. “ he says, gaze flicking down your body, before settling back on your eyes.

Oh. You are the dessert.

And this time, when the door clicks shut behind him, your heart isn’t racing from confusion. It’s welcoming the slow bloom of potential.

You: Thank you for dropping off coffee and donuts for the team Yoongi: 👌

Yoongi: finished it one sitting You: what? You: i got you 10 pcs 🍊 Yoongi: and? You: you dont get acidic? Yoongi: it’s my favorite!! You: i noticed

Yoongi: [spotify playlist link] You: hey dj suga Yoongi: thought you might like You: listened to it on the drive home Yoongi: favorite track? You: musiq soulchild - just friends Yoongi: me too

It’s not like there was a talk. No formal check-in or DTR. But somehow, as the weeks pass, the rhythm between you and Yoongi settles into something steady. There’s no pressure. No constant push for reassurance. No need to define what already feels known.

You see him constantly at work—during rehearsals, music shows, brand shoots. He’s not overly affectionate, that’s just not him. But there are moments. The way his fingers graze yours when no one’s looking. The way his eyes seek you out as soon as he walks in. The way he’ll shift his chair an inch closer when you’re touching up his base, so your knees knock just enough.

He really makes this whole thing feel easy. Comfortable in a way that still thrills you. Because what can be more thrilling at this point in your life than to finally meet somebody that makes you feel vibrant.

What surprises you most is how little insecurity you feel. You’ve seen how people look at him—the other makeup artists, stylists, managers, external clients. There’s something magnetic about him that draws attention without trying. You’ve clocked it. But Yoongi has a way of making sure you never wonder.

It’s in the way he says your name. How his eyes soften when he talks to you. How he remembers the little things. The tea you like. The one concealer you always complain about running out of. Sometimes you find a sticky note in your kit. Or a box of snacks with your name scribbled on it. Just things that say: I see you. You’re on my mind.

And then there are the others. The rest of Bangtan.

It’s a choreography video shoot day, which always means chaos. Full glam’s not required since most shots are wide, so it’s just you and Hwapyeong handling light touch-ups.

You’re finishing Yoongi’s concealer when Jungkook suddenly rests his chin on your shoulder. “Noona, if I promise to sit still, can I go next?”

Before you can answer, Jimin appears behind him. “She’s doing me next. I called dibs.”

“Not how dibs works,” Jungkook pulls back his arm for a mock-punch and Jimin clutches his heart, rattling off a litany of how Jungkook wounds him.

“Hajimaaa,” Yoongi gives them all a staredown.

But then from across the room, Taehyung yells, “Noona, help! My concealer’s making me look gray!”

“AISH!” Yoongi snarls with his non-existent fangs. It’s not even menacing. You know now that his canines are blunt. But he tries, so you giggle.

Jin comes to your rescue. “Why are all of you crowding her? You never even get your faces done for choreo. Fuck off,” Then, sweetly, “Hi noona, just a dab of lip balm, please.”

“HYUNG!” Jungkook giggles as he shoves his elder playfully away from you and they continue to horseplay elsewhere.

Yoongi turns slowly to Jimin and Taehyung, unimpressed. “Why are you still here?”

“Because she’s nice to us,” Jimin says, fluttering his lashes at you with zero shame.

“Because we love her more than you do,” Taehyung declares with a shit-eating grin.

That gets Yoongi to raise a brow.

“Okay, enough,” you laugh, pointing your brush like a weapon. “If you want me to do all your faces, line up like kindergarteners and bring me coffee.”

“Done,” Taehyung shoots up immediately.

When they disperse to bother other members of the staff, you catch Yoongi watching you through the mirror.

“I think…” you murmur as you smooth out the edge of his eye shadow, “I just got myself a new set of boys.”

He doesn’t say anything, but the way his smile lingers tells you everything.

When he stands up to finally let one of the maknaes take his spot, he whispers, “For the record, I called dibs.” Then pinches your hip slightly.

You’re still grinning when Jimin plops into the chair and narrows his eyes at you. Eye-smiling. Suspicious. Rightly so.

You: check your studio door Yoongi: ? Yoongi: why Yoongi: what did you do You: just do it

(three minutes later)

Yoongi: you cooked? You: 👩‍🍳 Yoongi: you even packed utensils?? You: i’m considerate Yoongi: shit you the best You: i know you’re busy but now you don’t have an excuse Yoongi: you tryna wife me up huh? You: idiot Yoongi: cmere eat with me You: i have a thing You: meeting a makeup artist friend who started her own salon Yoongi: thats nice Yoongi: but next time come in You: k Yoongi: 134340 You: ? Yoongi: door code You: guarding it with my life

(fifteen minutes later)

Yoongi: (photo attached: empty bento box)

Curious how time has passed and with frequency and proximity, you discover new things about Yoongi. Things that only came with time. Things you wouldn’t catch if you weren’t paying attention. Things you couldn’t have known before.

There are lines you never noticed until you were tracing them at rest. Creases that only surface when he’s thinking too hard, or biting back a smile. Dimples, not on the smile lines, but on his chin, when he’s bored. And then there’s the slightest double chin when he’s slumped and snoozing when schedules get rough. It’s your job to know his face, to fill the lines. There are times you touch him a little longer, not for anything but comfort and maybe your greed. He lets you.

Lips, sweeter than any cherry balm you could ever swipe. But far more frequently chapped than you like so you’ve started packing bottled water inside your kit, making him sip while you let lip mask seep between the patches of dry skin. His lips have become your favorite. Sometimes it splits when he does that shriek he often pulls to make others laugh but then it also presses against your shoulder when he’s too tired to kiss you properly. Sometimes they murmur your name like it’s a sexy secret, and you wonder how you lived before hearing it said like that.

There’s also his eyes. Small, but somehow holds a significant power. He has a habit of narrowing them, but now you can tell why, when he’s suspicious, or teasing or just tired, or forgot his glasses. You don’t need him to speak. Sometimes the way he looks at you says more than full conversations ever could.

His default expressions are even more cat-like up close. On default :< When he’s playful :] But your favorite is the :3. You always make sure his features stay sharp, complimenting his felinesque features. You pull his liner outward, shade his jaw, angle his brow. Lil Meow Meow, apparently he is called. And what ARMY wants, ARMY gets.

His hair is finer than it looks. Silky in a way that slips easily between your fingers when you card through it absentmindedly, especially when he’s resting his head in your lap. The strands at his nape get extra soft after he showers, curling ever so slightly where they brush against his undercut. He likes when you play with it, especially the buzzed edges, more than he lets on. You figured that out the first time you tugged a little harder and heard the way his breath caught, low in his throat. Now it’s something he leans into, shameless. One tug and suddenly he’s pliant, open.

He smells like tangerines. Rarely does he not have it in his pocket. But also, there’s this perfume he wears. It clings. Intoxicating and addicting, and you wonder if it’s just you who’s not immune. It lives in your hair, your pillow, your skin. You catch yourself breathing deeper when you catch it, like your body recognizes what’s safe faster than your mind can.

You no longer think about what you used to think of him. When he only said four words, and always closed his eyes.

Finally, you know Min Yoongi. Not the pixels, but the person.

You know him now in the noise and chaos of backstage, from watching him when you have your kit open and he’s on his chair waiting to be groomed.

But you’ve come to know him more in the quietest hours, too. When he wakes beside you in his California king, face bathed in the kind of morning light no makeup could ever imitate. When he opens his eyes, and leans into your space like he always does, all soft and sleepy and sexy.

There’s no need to polish him here. Because this is him at his most perfect in your eyes. When you can just reach for him.

Not because he’s Min Yoongi, the idol.

He’s Min Yoongi, yours. Even without the labels, yet.

You: yoongi. Yoongi: ? You: we almost got caught in the fucking meeting room 😭 Yoongi: that was close. You: close??? do you know what would’ve happened if someone saw? Yoongi: i’d probably get a raise You: ddaeng i’d get fired Yoongi: we’re fine You: you are not serious Yoongi: you kissed me You: you pulled me in Yoongi: yeah and? You: AND?? Yoongi: should’ve locked the door You: Yoongi 😩 Yoongi: you wanted it You: i did NOT Yoongi: your hand was where? You: BYE

You (photo attached: wine glass, bare legs, tv in background): guess what i’m watching Yoongi: don’t care Yoongi: all i see is leg You: rude Yoongi: wear a skirt tomorrow You: so direct Yoongi: thought we’re not teenagers You: thought you said you’d behave Yoongi: sure 😃

Another day in the glam room, another TikTok dance challenge Yoongi somehow said yes to. This time with members of TXT. He’s really never beating the allegations of rizzing up his juniors.

He’s already styled when he walks in. And looking at what he’s wearing... Honestly? He’s wearing you the fuck out. And it’s barely noon.

White tank under a greige short-sleeved shirt, pretty, purple embroidered butterflies sitting on either side of his chest. But it’s the jeans—loose, shredded clean through the knees—that have you scandalized like a Victorian maiden seeing skin for the first time.

“Good morning,” you greet.

He hums, eyes you up and down shamelessly and you know the conversation last night is about to resume in the flesh.

“Hey,” he takes his spot on the chair.

“Looking forward to today?” You ask, turning to pluck a brush and pot from your kit.

“You can say that…”

As you face him, he parts his legs, glancing down at the freshly cleared spot on the floor, then looks back up at you. Waits.

You sigh, already knowing what it is. An unspoken invitation to take your place between his knees. To get closer. So you do.

“This what you wanted?” you ask, feigning indifference, as you swirl the spoolie through your brow gel, wiping off the excess on the rim.

“Not exactly,” he says, smirking, knees closing in on the side of your hips. “But close.”

You start brushing his brows up, grooming them into a perfect arch when you feel it. His fingers, slow and sneaky, sliding up your skirt, skimming the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You look him dead in the eyes.

He winks.

“Yoongi…” you tsk, moving to brush up his other brow.

“Noona…” he shifts forward, tongue peaking on the side of his mouth, which you try try try to ignore.

“Somebody might see,” you mumble.

“Let them.”

“Such a little shit.”

“You love it.” You freeze when you feel his fingers hook your panties to the side and when he discovers that you’re more excited than you let on, “Oooh. You really do.”

Mortified, is what you are. Soaked from anticipation and some light, slight petting. How dare your body betray you like this?!

“I like your skirt,” he murmurs. The hand that isn’t currently violating you taps the floofy fabric like it’s innocent. As if the other one isn’t busy toying with your cunt.

Dignity hanging by a thread, you grit, “Didn’t wear it for you.”

A bold-faced lie. He knows it, too. “Sure you didn’t,” he chuckles.

His index swipes your folds, lazy, teasing strokes that get deeper with every pass, never quite reaching the one spot you need him to.

“But aren’t you glad you did?” At that exact moment, he flicks your puffy clit, circling it like he’s known exactly where it was all along.

“Fuck,” you gasp, pitching forward, hands gripping his knees just to stay upright.

The pot and brush drops to the floor and rolls into oblivion. Much like your sanity.

He hisses through his teeth as he eases his middle finger inside you, walls fluttering at the sudden intrusion.

“So wet for me, baby,” he grins, lower lip caged between his pretty teeth in his pretty mouth. It’s devastating. He’s devastating. And the way he’s watching you fall apart while knuckles-deep, pumping steadily in and out of your dripping pussy only makes it worse. Or better. Definitely worse. But shit, it feels so good.

“Yoongi… shit…” you breathe, forehead falling into the crook of his neck as your knees threaten to give out. Your palms, slick with sweat, slide beneath the frayed denim of his jeans, desperate for more skin, more heat, more of him. Fingertips dig into his thigh, surely to leave little crescent moons in his flesh. He groans, but doesn’t stop. If anything, he moves with maddening precision, adding just enough pressure to make you whimper. You moan, high and sharp, the sound slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

“Feel good?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wanna cum?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do it,” he licks the shell of your ear. “I got you, baby.”

That fuckin’ does it.

You come with a soft gasp, body jerking slightly as heat rushes through you in quiet waves. It’s not loud, not messy, but it rocks you all the same—your breath hitching, muscles clenching, forehead buried in his neck to muffle the sound.

“Shit…” you breathe, blinking as the aftershocks melt through your limbs.

He pulls his fingers out slow and slick, and you wince at the emptiness he leaves behind.

Your mouth falls open. “Yoongi.”

“I like seeing you like this,” he murmurs, nudging his nose against yours so you look up. “When you lose control.”

His lips meet yours, stirring more chaos in your mind. When you pull back, trying to reorient yourself, he leans in again.

“Yoongi… fuck, you need to behave, okay?” You mumble against his lips, nipping his plush lower lip before attempting to pull away.

“But noona,” he lifts himself up, bucking against you once just so you feel the hardness between his thighs. “You're making it hard….”

You’re about to give in, when the door creaks open.

You spring backward like your life depends on it, bumping your back against your kit and you suppress the dull pain across your spine. A familiar voice floats in, Hyein, asking if you saw Jimin.

“Nope,” you reply as you start fixing bottles and palettes randomly. You meet Yoongi’s eyes in the mirror and almost crash out when he brings his hand to his lips—without shame, without pause—and licks two fingers clean.

You nearly choke on air.

“Yoongi needs to be out in 5,” Hyein calls out and closes the door.

The company Thanksgiving dinner isn’t really optional, since you’re both employees. But after a magazine shoot, Yoongi lingers as you pack up and still asks if you want to go with him.

“Why do you say it like that,” you laugh. “Like you’re inviting me to prom.”

“Well… I’m down if you wanna match…” He shrugs, leaning against the wall as he watches you zip up your Zuca.

That’s how you end up in all black—simple, classic, and just a little coordinated with his own sleek black button-down shirt and pants. Yoongi always finds a way to underdress the right way. You compliment him, but he downplays it saying, he just ‘wore an old shirt.’ Yeah, it's the same look from their Grammy performance, but he says it like it should somehow make him look a little less. Joke’s on him, your humble king.

The event is important, but low-pressure. Not quite a red carpet, but still enough eyes to notice when the two of you walk in together. Thankfully Namjoon and Jin are not too far behind with one of their female producers.

You keep a respectful distance, like the professionals you are. But people see. You know they do. A couple of glances. Some whispers. Nothing rude, just… curious. To your insistence and his disappointment, you have dinner with your glam team. Because wouldn’t it be strange if you’re seated with them? You don’t know if you’re ready for a soft launch.

But it sure seems he is. The way he looks at you like there’s no one else in the room. And it’s in the way he caters to you. Like while you’re walking toward the open bar, the strap of your heel suddenly slips loose. You pause, bending slightly to fix it, but Yoongi beats you to it.

He kneels (!!) right there on the marble floor, one hand steadying your ankle as he buckles the strap with steady fingers.

You panic, pulling him by the sleeve of his shirt. “No, you don’t have to—”

“Let me,” he tells you as he so often does. Head down, thumb brushing the side of your foot, he fixes your shoe and suddenly you’re Cinder-fuckin’-ella in your own damn fairy tale.

Obviously, more than one pair of eyes are turning toward the scene. Cos the scene is not something you see everyday: Min Yoongi, rapper-producer-self-proclaimed bad boy, on his knees for this random girl, rugged hands wrapped delicately on her ankle.

A couple of stylists from another team, wide-eyed. One of the project managers from digital looks like she might combust.

Yoongi rises slowly and nods his head towards the bar. You follow him. And that’s that.

After the dinner, you end up at his place. Still dressed up, both of you nursing hot tea listening to a record he chose. Something low and jazzy filters through the room as you curl into his sofa.

“I usually don’t like company parties,” you murmur. “But it wasn’t that bad.”

“Didn’t think it would be,” he says. “I’m glad you came with me.”

He looks at you for a moment, asks, “You okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. I think so.”

You were always a good kid, so you never knew what it felt like to be summoned to the principal’s office. It’s probably something like this then. When two days after the company dinner, you were asked to go to HYBE’s HR department.

You’ve never met this woman before, but it’s clear she’s a higher-up. The tightest hair bun you’ve ever seen, cartoonishly wide cat-eye glasses, you already know she’s ripped at least one person a new asshole in the last five business days.

Not much preamble. When she started, oh, she really didn’t mince words and waste time. The way she looked at you spoke volumes of what she thought you had plotted.

“Miss Y/L/N, it has come to our attention that you have gotten involved with one of the members of BTS. As such, you can no longer be the lead makeup artist for the group effective immediately.”

“Due to our current headcount, we are unable to reassign you to another division.”

“Given the years of our professional relationship, we will still provide you with any recommendations you need should you choose to find employment in another company.”

“Your final pay will be sent to you within 30 business days. Please pack up your things and surrender your ID on your way out.”

Somehow, you are able to hold your head high, temper the storm in your chest, and nod as dignified as you can. “I understand. I’ll see myself out.”

You saw this shit coming. Sniffed it out from a mile away. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t sting. You spent more than a decade in this company, shaping and sharpening the creative vision for their two biggest acts, and they’ll let you go all because you decided to date a coworker.

Although they are clearly correct, you are involved with Yoongi, no clear evidence was even presented to you. Nothing was said to indicate that they were in touch with the member of BTS in question to get his side. Regardless, it was never gonna be a man’s fault. She thinks you probably seduced him and took advantage of your close working relationship. Ahh, this is so fucked up.

“Noona…” a voice interrupts your thoughts.

Namjoon.

“Hey—are you…?”

You swipe a tear quickly from your cheek, but he already saw.

“What happened?”

You pull your cardigan tighter around your frame. Was there a point in lying about it? You sigh, “Got fired.”

“WHAT?” Namjoon’s voice echoes down the hall and your eyes widen like saucers.

He springs into action, stringing you like a marionette into every direction until then you end up in… his studio?

“The hell’s goin’ on?”

You shrug, take a spot on the couch. “Not much to it, Namjoon. They fired me because they found out about me and Yoongi.”

It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged this to any member verbally. It feels oddly comforting to say it out loud.

“Does he know about this?”

“I haven’t told him.”

“Imma call him right now,” Namjoon fishes his phone from his pocket, but he knocks over something from the side table. It’s a half-full cup of coffee from god-knows-when. “Shit.”

You take some paper towels from his desk and help him soak the brown liquid from the carpet. It’s not really working. His paper towels are kinda thin. And the brown liquid is almost black at this point and it’s making you gag.

“You know what, shit, let’s just leave that. We’ve got bigger problems…”

“It’s fine. I’m just gonna go.” You rise to your feet, smoothing your skirt down.

“Yoongi won’t allow this.”

“I know. But I did break the number 1 rule.”

“Let’s call him.”

“It’s ok, Namjoon-ah. I’m gonna pack up my stuff and go home. It’s a lot to process and I think I need to just… yeah. I’m gonna go home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you give him what you hope is a placating smile. “I just wish I got to say goodbye to everybody.”

“We’ll fix it,” he promises.

“No need,” you call over your shoulder. “Nothing’s broken.”

Bzzt… bzzt…

Your eyes crack open, a slow, confused blink. You’re warm, groggy, skin dry from sleep and mouth sticky from wine. The room’s dark except for the kitchen pin lights still on.

You glance at your clock: 11:02 p.m. it says.

The hell? There’s some heavy knocking going on now.

You pull yourself off the couch, legs slightly cramping, brain not quite awake. So out of it you don’t actually check the peephole before you pull the door wide open.

“Baby—what the fuck?!”

Yoongi’s voice hits first. Then his body—arms wrapping you up so tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll slip between his fingers. His coat’s cold but he smells like cedar and mint shampoo..

“I thought you—” he chokes out, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping the back of your sweatshirt. “You weren’t answering, I—fuck, I thought you—”

“I fell asleep,” you whisper, dazed, unsure how to hold all of this emotion spilling from him. “I’m sorry.”

His hands come up to your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone like he’s checking if you’re real. His eyes are wet. His breathing unsteady.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did,” you say. “You didn’t pick up. So I just… went home.”

He follows your gaze to the half-full wine glass on the coffee table. His jaw flexes.

“Had a few drinks and crashed,” you add, quietly.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He just exhales shakily and pulls you into his chest again, tighter this time. You press your face against his shirt, feel the way his heart is hammering through the fabric.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” you mumble.

He doesn’t answer that either. Just holds you there, arms wrapped around you like he needs to physically keep you in his orbit.

You pull back slightly. Look up. “Let me just wash my face real quick. Just sit, okay?”

He nods, wordless, and sinks into the couch like he’s been holding himself up all day.

You go to the bathroom, splash cold water on your cheeks. Brush your teeth. Run a brush through your hair. Change to a lounge set.

You can hear Yoongi’s voice outside. He’s on the phone with someone, and he just told them that you’re okay.

You stare at your reflection, pale and puffy-eyed. Yeah, you’re okay. The lines under your eyes are deeper than usual. But overall, you’re fine.

When you step back out, Yoongi’s sitting with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped like he’s praying. He lifts his eyes the moment you enter, teeth pulling at the skin of his lips.

You sit beside him on the couch, tuck your legs under you. Let your knee rest against his thigh.

“So I got fired…” you say softly, voice thin.

“Namjoon told me,” he says. “I wanted to punch that new HR guy.”

“It’s a woman.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah. Found that out belatedly after I barged in.”

You smile despite yourself.

“Anyway, I talked to Bang PD. He didn’t authorize this. This HR lady, she’s new. A bit too eager, trigger-happy. I think she wanted to make a statement.”

“Well what kind?”

“She said she just wanted to protect Bangtan from people…” he pauses, shakes his head. “Who might be taking advantage of us. I told her you’re my girlfriend. Fuckin’ idiot!”

Oh?

“They could assign you back to Seventeen,” he prattles on, nostrils flaring. “Not like they’ve found a new person to take over. It’s not easy to find your level of talent and they’re stupid to…”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You said something…”

His mouth parts, a little confused.

“No cause you just casually dropped that.”

“Baby,” he hangs his head, pinching the space between his brows with his index and thumb. “That’s your takeaway?”

“Well,” you shrug. “News to me.”

“You’re my woman, okay? Don’t–” he tuts when you almost cut him off. “Baby please don’t even argue with me on this. You know I’ve been yours. And right now I feel guilty. I should have said so earlier and done my due diligence with the paperwork and shit. But I hate getting legal involved in my personal life. Hoba told me to do it. Cause he’s doling out NDAs left and right, but I don't want you to think you're just some hookup. This is on me. And I’m fixing it, okay. They will transfer you to any group you want.”

“I don’t want it,” you say, more firmly than you expected.

“Huh?”

“I don’t want it,” you repeat.

“You don’t want your boys?”

You roll your eyes, because Seventeen is still some kind of chip on his shoulder. “No. I don’t want pity. Or to feel like they just let me stay because they’re afraid of you.”

“Damn right they are.”

You breathe out, jaw tight. “I want to leave with my head up. And I did.”

Yoongi nods, slow. Like he gets it. Because of course he does.

There’s a beat of silence, but it doesn’t last. Yoongi is still a ball of fire.

“You’re terrifying.”

“Why?”

“You’re so calm.”

You take a moment before you articulate your introspections as you enjoyed your merlot earlier. “You know what? Deep down, I knew it was gonna come to this,” you say. “And if it came down to it, I’d rather just leave HYBE… than you.”

That finally pulls a gentler sound from him. A quiet, pained exhale. His hand finds yours, holds it tight. When you look over, his eyes are glassy again, but his smile is faintly there—gummy, a little lopsided..

“What?” you ask.

He just shakes his head.

“Seriously, what?”

He presses his forehead against yours, closes his eyes.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You kiss him, and he lets you. For a minute or two you savor the way his lips slide against yours, no thoughts, just love. Then he pulls back and says something kind of out of pocket.

“I’m rich.”

You stare. “Okay…?”

“You know I can take care of you.” He says it so earnestly, but you can’t help but giggle.

“I don’t need a Sugar Daddy. How do they even call it if the woman is older?”

“How the hell are you so cool about this?”

“Because I know I have you, but I know I got me, too. I have some money saved up and some stocks I can sell if need be. Market’s looking bullish anyways…”

“You know how sexy you sound right now?”

“Umm talking about the stock market turns you on?”

“Something about a bull…”

“Want me to ride you like a bull?” You raise your brow.

“If you don’t let me fuck you right this second…”

Yoongi removes each button from your top, one by one, kissing every patch of skin revealed to him. You close your eyes, savoring the tiny, wet kisses deposited to your neck down to the valley of your breasts where he lingers for a beat. Purrs as he presses his cheek against your soft mounds and sighs before lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Use me,” he says. “I know you’re angry, baby.” He peels your shirt down your arms. “Let it out…”

He holds your nipple between his fingers, twists it, and you groan helplessly in response.

“You can punish me. if you want…”

It takes a while for you to process his offer, between butterfly kisses and the teensiest sucks against your skin, a combination that's driving you wild.

But he’s right. As always. You are mad. Not at him. But the broken sexist system.

“Yoongi?” You tug his hair.

“Hm?”

“Sit back against the headboard.”

He nods and situates himself as you asked.

You walk over to your closet to find a scarf, this white and black Valentino that he gifted you some weeks back. You climb onto him, knees bracketing his hips as you watch the curiosity glistening from his eyes.

You’ve never really done anything like this before. But you’re familiar with it and you’ve always been down to try anything new. Bonus is you know Yoongi likes to play, so this is perfect. Honestly, he is perfect.

“I’m gonna blindfold you. And you’re not allowed to touch me. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

The scarf drapes over his eyes, darkening everything he knows, leaving him with nothing but sensation. Breath. Sound. You.

“Use colors, okay?” you whisper, lips barely grazing the shell of his ear.

He nods, swallows. “Yes.”

“What’s it now?”

“Green:”

You hum in approval, fingers ghosting down his chest. “Good boy.”

You take your time with him. Explore his body in ways you never have before. Yoongi shivers. You watch his Adam’s apple bob, the breath hitch in his chest.

“You asked for this,” you say softly, dragging your nails across his ribs, just enough to raise goosebumps. “So I’m going to use you.” You slap his cheek, earning a soft gasp from him, before his lips curve into a smile. He’s going to enjoy this, you can already tell.

You trace the lines of his body with your mouth. Flick your tongue on his nipples before nibbling on them until they're raw, slightly bruised. You blow cool air against it, earning you a low purr from the back of his throat.

He’s hard already. His huge cock straining against the waistband of his boxers, but you don’t touch him there. This is not like other nights. You want him aching for it.

You slink down to suck faint bruises into the soft dip of his hipbones. Let your nails wander, grazing his soft tummy where pink lines have bloomed like cat scratches. When he moans, hips bucking slightly, you press a palm flat to his stomach.

“Stay still,” you warn.

His voice is a rasp. “Yes, noona.”

You peel his boxers off slowly. His cock springs free—dark at the tip, already leaking. The bead of cum on his tip shines. You circle it once with your finger, feather-light.

“Fuck,” he gasps, hips twitching again.

You slap his thigh—not hard, just enough for pain to mix with the pleasure painted clearly on his face. “I said still.”

His hands flex against the sheets he’s gripping sooo tightly. You see the tension, the need. His mouth opens, lips trembling.

“More…”

You smirk, finally leaning down and licking a slow stripe up his shaft. He whimpers, whimpers! And by god, if it’s not the prettiest sound in the world.

And just for that you can throw him a bone. But you suck only the tip into your mouth and let it pop free.

His body arches off the bed instinctively and one errant hand makes its way to the back of your neck.

Another slap—gentler this time.

“Sorry, noona.”

“Patience, baby. You wanted to be used, right? That means you wait until I’m done.”

You tease him for what feels like forever. Stroke him gently, then quicker, then stop just when he thinks you’ll give him more. Every whine you pull from him shoots straight to your cunt.

His thighs are trembling. “Noona. More…”

You finally straddle him, not lowering yourself yet, just grinding super slow against the base of his cock, letting your slick drag across him.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you murmur, stroking his cheek where the blindfold wraps around his head.

“Fuck, noona, let me touch you.”

“Not yet,” you lean forward, let your tits press against his chest, and drop a small peck on the corner of his mouth. His lips pucker belatedly as you pull back.

“You are so hot like this, baby. So good to me,,” you assure him, sliding a hand down to wrap around his cock, pumping it just once, then again, tighter. “Color?”

“Green. Fucking green.”

Finally, you shift to guide him to your entrance. Still hovering. Still making him wait.

He’s breathless now, forehead sweaty beneath the scarf. “Fuck noona. Put it in. I need to feel you—fuck—need to cum in you, please.”

God, he sounds broken. Ruined.

You sink down in one slow, aching glide, and you moan in unison, in pure fucking ecstasy. Your voice high and needy, his low and desperate. He’s pulsing inside you as you steady your hips, letting your walls adjust, keeping him warm.

“Fuck, you feel—fuck,” he gasps. “You’re so tight, noona. So warm—please let me touch you.”

“Not yet,” you grit out, riding him slow and mean, using him. You let your clit drag against the short hairs on his crotch, finding the perfect angle to get you off. He can probably sense it now in the steady swivel of your hips and the stutter in your breath.

“Yeah, just like that, noona,” he says, voice hoarse. “Use me.”

You dig your nails into his chest, bite at his shoulder. You pant. Speeding up your grind. His legs are trembling now, the muscles on his thighs, stomach, taut. “Noona…” He’s babbling now, half-words and curses, his head tossing side to side. “Can’t—shit, please—I’m….”

He’s close. You’re almost there.

“Touch me.”

His hands immediately fly towards your hips, pressing you down, deeper. Grabs your ass and guides your movements.

You fuck him harder like this, ride him like your life depends on it. You feel him losing it. Coming undone beneath you.

“Where?”

“Inside me, baby. Fill me up…”

His whole body convulses, a strangled moan torn from his throat as he spills into you. You follow a heartbeat later, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound as you unravel together.

You don’t move for a moment. Just feel his chest heaving beneath you, the sweat between your bodies. You remove the blindfold.

His lashes are wet. He looks wrecked and raw and beautiful.

“Was that okay?” you ask softly, fingers combing his damp hair back from his forehead.

He nods slowly. Smiles. “More than okay.”

You guide him to lie flat again, press your palm to his chest to calm his breathing. You grab a warm towel and clean him gently, kissing each place you left a bruise or scratch.

He pulls you close afterward, arms around your waist, face pressed to your shoulder.

Before you drift off, you remember something you wanted to address.

“Can I ask you something?”

He hums.

“Why were you so worried earlier?”

“Namjoon said you looked a little, like, out of it, you know. And when I couldn’t get a hold of you, I thought you…” he heaves a sigh. “I don’t know why my mind went into that. But I just couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Your heart squeezes. “That’s not gonna happen, Yoongi. I’m yours.”

He hugs you and doesn’t let go.

Post-HYBE life turns out to be pretty… as Yoongi says, slayyy.

It was tough in the beginning, starting from scratch. You start your own website and portfolio, reach out to friends and contacts to help get your skin back into the game. A few months in, you’re now affiliated with a salon who specializes in editorial and product campaign shoots. Your last one was with Choi San for D&G Beauty.

Yoongi slips deeper into your life until the boundaries blur. A toothbrush in his cup. His shirt in your hamper.

You never needed to say it. Because you both knew that this wasn’t fleeting. That you weren’t getting any younger. That whatever this is feels constant.

One night he sends you a Spotify link. To one song. It’s a BTS track.

He usually doesn’t send his own stuff when you exchange playlists (a ritual that stayed on). You listen to it.

🎵Home - BTS

Your chest tightens. Your fingers hover over the reply. But then he calls.

No hi or how are you. Just one question: “Move in with me?”

Life with him is a burst of pigments.

Yellow, in the warm sunlight that wakes you both every morning. Orange, in the tips of his fingers when he’s peeled his umpteenth tangerine. Blue, in the fabric softener he overused to the point that it triggered an allergic reaction for both of you. (Downy is now banned.)

Green, in the hangover soup you cook for him after a night out. (You, on the other hand, are sober for 2 months now.) Purple, in the marks he leaves on your inner thighs and the soft bruises on your chest. Pink, in the way he blushes when you walk out in his clothes.

And then, finally:

Red, in the two faint lines.

You blink down at the stick in your hand, seated on the toilet, heart pounding.

It’s only a minute before the door creaks open.

“Babe?” Yoongi floats in. “You’ve been in here a while.”

He sees your face first. Then the test clutched around your fingers.

He’s piecing it together.

“Omo,” he breathes, stunned.

You nod, heart tight in your throat.

“OMO OMO, you’re pregnant?” he says it with so much disbelief it makes you laugh through the lump in your chest.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?!” he kneels on the tiles in front of you. His hands are on your cheeks, your shoulders, your belly. “Holy shit!!!”

You’re laughing now, ugly and teary. He pulls you into a tight hug, still stunned.

He leans back, eyes wild with emotion. “We’re gonna have a baby?”

“I guess we are.”

And then the tears come, his. Yoongi chokes out a wet little sound and buries his squishy face in your neck. “Fuck. I’m so happy.”

“Me, too.”

You are.

So happy.

So ready.

So loved.

Between pigments & playlists.

In technicolor. In surround sound.

In the forever you never thought possible.

This spring day.

A/N: Soooo?? Did y'all bogo your shipdas? (dk what the means, but hope you liked it?)

Yoongi is back! While it was a bittersweet note that we got today, I know things are only going to get better from here for him and us. I hope and pray that he knows that he is so so so loved by ARMY.

So the fic! Yes the fic! I’d love some feedback. And a reblog if you are so inclined?

Thank you for reading this you lovely beautiful human, xo

Permanent Taglist: (1 of 1)

@wonh0oe @woozuzu @glossdebut @kiki-zb

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

@aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells @butterymin

@eve1633455 @baechugff @lilkittenjenjen @wobblewobble822 @coffeedepressionsoup

@futuristicenemychaos @jadestonedaeho7 @granataepfelchen @whoa-jo @annyeongbitch7

@chimmisbae @sexytholland @idkjustlovingbts @kpophosblog @tinyelfperson

@yoongicatagenda @codeinebelle @parapiop7 @diame93 @janeelizabeth1216

@withmuchluv-tannie @abadiimm- @angellekookie

Divider by: @/cafekitsune

420 notes · View notes

miumura · 4 months ago

Text

STUPID CUPID! ─── JAEHYUN ONESHOT ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

RULE #1: Remember and Follow the Cupid Handbooks

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted something genuine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was all he ever wanted.

RULE #2: Help anyone — everyone deserves love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

L/N Y/N.

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

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

His heart felt like it was sinking.

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

Avoid getting tangled up in love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s when it hit him.

You applied. You. To find someone new?

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

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

Jaehyun’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

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

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

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

She applied for you to help her.

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

Just for his own sake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what you didn’t expect was seeing this.

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

Your ex.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And for a while, it was perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All done?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was only someone you had once wanted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Would this—you—even matter to him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

It felt almost too familiar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, is it?”

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

It was Heeseung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All he had to do was shoot.

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

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

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

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

That’s when the feeling seemed to hit him.

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

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

It was odd.

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

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

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

But the moment his gaze dropped, his breath hitched.

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back toward you.

This wasn’t right.

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

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

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

What had he done?

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

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

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

That was the problem.

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

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

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

“You called for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sungho’s jaw dropped.

“You what?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sungho winced. “Well…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were smiling…because of Sungho.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get back here, Woonhak!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could that be you and Heeseung?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe love wasn’t meant for you at all.

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

Instead, you messaged Jaehyun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least someone cared enough to show up for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To rebuild.

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

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

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

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

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

Your matchmaker?

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

His reaction made it harder to turn him now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had to keep himself in check.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It looked like a couple’s item.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oddly enough, that expression was cute to you.

“Are you scared?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pretty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was as if he missed it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s like you missed that sight of him.

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

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

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

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

“You won’t, Jaehyun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Arms up, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too.”

RULE #7: Don’t Leave your Clients Confused

You didn’t know how to feel.

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

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

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

It felt almost too genuine.

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

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

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

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

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

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

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

Why did he make you feel this way?

And, more importantly—

What exactly were your feelings for Jaehyun?

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

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

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

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

He was, in every sense, the dream guy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The white dog ears headband.

The one Jaehyun picked out for you.

Because it suited you.

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

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

Just how could you help yourself?

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

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

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

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

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

You truly had lost it.

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

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

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

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

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

That’s when you knew that you realized it.

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

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

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

You just never expected to be his next target.

RULE #8: There’s Never No Solution

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was just the way he was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It felt… off.

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

Maybe the potion just needed more time to kick in.

That had to be it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This wasn’t a bad thing.

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

And you were.

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

But despite that, you still felt a little jittery.

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

A proper hangout.

Not by chance. Not by force.

Just... because you both wanted to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would like that.”

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

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

And then his chest tightened.

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

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

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

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

But then there was you. There was always you.

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

And that was everything he was looking for.

To be in love.

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

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

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

He wanted all of it.

And he wanted it only with you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I should be helping people find love, not falling into it myself,” Jaehyun murmured. The very words that he held against himself finally started feeling heavy with the weight of the years of expectations he set for himself to follow. It didn’t feel right for him to be saying that now, especially given how and what he’s been doing.

Riwoo’s chuckle interrupted his thoughts. “You make it seem like Cupids can’t find love either.”

Jaehyun paused, his brow furrowing. “Isn’t that what they always told us?”

Riwoo’s smile faded into something more thoughtful. “It may not seem like an ideal situation for a Cupid,” he said slowly, as if reflecting on his own experiences with being around other Cupids. “But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

Jaehyun looked at him, skeptical. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, seriously.” Riwoo leaned forward, his gaze more earnest now. “Why do you think I accepted the idea of you dating Y/N in the first place? Why do you think I’ve been covering your shifts whenever you needed it? I’ve always made space for you to be with her.”

Jaehyun felt a knot in his chest. He knew Riwoo was right. His friend always seemed to appear at the right time, sometimes without even needing to be asked. Every time Jaehyun needed to be with you, Riwoo was there to take his place.

“Where are you going with this?” Jaehyun asked, trying not to let his hopes rise too quickly.

“I’m trying to tell you,” Riwoo began, his voice getting softer, “that Cupids can’t hate the idea of love.”

Jaehyun’s mind buzzed with the implications of Riwoo’s words, and then he remembered something Taesan had once said. “Like Taesan said before,” Riwoo continued, “you aren’t the only one who’s been put in situations like this.”

Jaehyun shifted his position, moving from sprawling lazily on the couch to sitting upright, his posture tense. His mind raced, but the words still felt trapped in his throat.

“You’re still lost?” Riwoo asked, eying Jaehyun’s every sudden move.

“It’s not that." Jaehyun let out a slow breath, his gaze drifting to the floor as he processed his thoughts. “From the moment I drank that potion Taesan gave me, I was told everything would just... disappear. But it didn’t work. I still feel exactly the same. I just feel…confused.”

“Do you hate the idea of liking her?”

Jaehyun shook his head almost immediately, his fingers absentmindedly tapping on the edge of the couch. “I don’t. I really don’t. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

““And I’m telling you that it’s okay if you want to love her,” Riwoo said with a smile. “Helping others find love doesn’t mean you have to give up your own.”

Jaehyun hadn’t realized how badly he needed to hear those words. All this time, he’d convinced himself that his feelings weren’t meant to be accepted, even though deep down, he yearned for that very thing. Hearing Riwoo’s reassurance lifted a weight from his shoulders, replacing his lingering worries with a silent urgency. The need to act, to take the step he’d been hesitating on, was suddenly clear.

“I think I need to go,” Jaehyun muttered as he stood, grabbing the nearest hoodie hanging by the door. He barely even looked at it before pulling it over his head, his mind already a few steps ahead, fixed on the next thing.

Riwoo didn’t need him to say more. He just sat back, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He watched Jaehyun with a mix of amusement and understanding. Even if Jaehyun hadn’t said the words directly, it was clear what he wanted.

Jaehyun was heading straight to you.

“You got this,” Riwoo said softly, as if the words could somehow give Jaehyun the last bit of courage he needed. Jaehyun paused before stepping out of his door, offering Riwoo a small but genuine smile, whispering a thank you.

The moment Jaehyun stepped out and closed his door behind him, his heart picked up speed. Each step felt like it was pulling him closer to something he wanted but couldn’t quite understand—something that had been waiting for him. The answers weren’t clear, and maybe they never would be. But for once, at this moment, Jaehyun didn’t feel the need to chase them. He didn’t seem to mind.

He just needed to show up.

As he neared your place, he could feel the anticipation building in his chest, almost like a tightness he couldn't shake. His hand hovered over his phone, his thumb hesitant for a brief second. He took a deep breath, telling himself to stop overthinking.

He was already here. He couldn’t turn back now.

Before his mind could talk him out of it, Jaehyun pressed the call button next to your contact. One ring, and he immediately felt a rush of jitters flood through him. The second ring, his fingers twisted the fabric of his hoodie, his nerves getting the better of him. By the third ring, he finally heard your voice on the other line.

"Jaehyun?"

He froze for a moment, hearing his name fall from your lips. The sound made his heart race, but he quickly composed himself, trying to ignore the sudden increased pacing in his chest.

"Y/N... Hi."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Can I see you?" Jaehyun wasn’t too sure if you could hear the sudden tremble in his voice, but he could only pray that you didn’t.

"Like... right now?"

"Just for a little while, yeah. I don’t want to rush you or anything, but I’m nearby, and—well, if you’re not up for it, that’s totally fine. I know it’s late."

"Stop worrying, Jae. I'll be out in a few. Just wait for me." you said, and Jaehyun couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. He was already a little lost in the thought of what he wanted to say, but for now, he just waited, allowing himself to calm down as the seconds ticked by.

"I’ll be here,” he responded back quickly.

He could almost picture your expression once he heard the soft chuckle you gave as the line went quiet again, leaving him standing there, staring at the phone in his hand. His nerves didn’t settle completely, but it didn’t matter anymore. He had done it. He had reached out. And now, all he had to do was wait.

After a few moments, Jaehyun spotted you running out of your apartment complex. You waved, and he quickly waved back.

"Hi," you said, as if the greeting over the phone hadn’t already happened. "Where do you want to go?"

"Is it okay if we just stay out here?" he asked, knowing this was something that he needed. There was something comforting about being in an open space—a sense of calm he didn’t want to lose. He needed the fresh breeze of air, but more importantly, he simply needed a little room to breathe if things became overwhelming.

"Yeah, of course," you said, nodding. You pointed toward a bench just outside the complex. "We can sit there."

Jaehyun shifted slightly on the bench, feeling the cool night air brush against his face. The sounds of distant traffic blended with the quiet night, giving everything a sense of calm he hadn’t expected. Sitting next to you with no distractions, it almost felt like time slowed down. The pressure in his chest eased just a little more.

“What did you want to see me for?” you finally spoke, turning to face Jaehyun. He also turned to look at you, your face illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlamp. His heart skipped, just like it always did when you looked at him like that—with that same curiosity and warmth in your eyes. It made his thoughts scatter, but he pushed them back, trying to focus.

“I just... needed to talk,” he said, his words coming out quieter than he expected. He wasn’t sure how to put what he was feeling into words. He let out a small chuckle, noticing how ridiculous it was for him to be acting this nervous. “I’ve been holding back from saying this, actually.”

“About what?” you asked softly, your voice laced with both curiosity and a hint of worry. Something about the way Jaehyun had called you out here felt different, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was something important. Your heart skipped a beat, uncertainty swirling in your chest as you tried to read his expression.

"About... us,” Jaehyun finally confessed, his voice quieter than usual. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this—about you—and what it really means. I know the timing might seem a little off, especially with me having to be involved in your love life by setting you with others, but I can’t seem to shake these feelings I have for you.”

“You have feelings for me?” you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and disbelief, the words barely leaving your lips.

He nodded, his cheeks flushing as he looked away for a moment, trying to gather himself. The honesty in his words felt foreign, almost suffocating after he’d spent so much time hiding it. “Ever since you walked into my office that day, I’ve been trying not to feel it. I didn’t want to admit it, but when I saw you, it wasn’t fear I felt in my stomach. It was… relief. Relief that I finally got to see you again.”

Jaehyun’s voice trailed off as he shifted uncomfortably, but there was something raw in his eyes that made you pause. It was the kind of vulnerability he rarely let anyone see, let alone you.

“You’ve kept that with you this whole time?” you asked again, trying to reconfirm his answer as your thoughts spiraled.

He nodded again, his fingers suddenly fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. “I didn’t want to complicate things, but I knew I couldn’t keep pretending my feelings are simply nothing.”

The weight of his words was finally setting into you after you tried processing everything. Your mind felt like it was in a haze—this was unexpected, but not completely. You always felt a shift between you two but never allowed yourself to fully acknowledge it. You were the one who brought the idea of breaking it off first, after all.

And now, it felt as though time had folded itself back, bringing you to that moment when Jaehyun first confessed to you. That same rush of emotions, the happiness tangled with confusion, was there again. But this time, you felt different—stronger, surer.

You knew better now; you knew that you couldn’t let someone like him slip away again.

“I’m really happy that you’re telling me this,” you said, your voice having an obvious, cheesy tone. “Because I feel the same way.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened, considering how he was preparing himself for the worst. “Wait… you do?”

You nodded, recognizing how the truth was coming out easily now. “I always thought it was obvious.”

Jaehyun’s lips parted slightly as if he were searching for something to say, but he simply looked at you, his words being taken over with a grin on his face. His gaze softened while he stopped fidgeting with his hoodie, feeling a rush of relief running through him.

“I was scared that this would have made things weird between us. But hearing you say that..." He exalted, as though he could finally breathe easier. “It’s everything I could wish for.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, considering how you were never quite sure if you’d ever get to hear those words from him if you didn’t show up to answer his call. The way your feet kicked back and forth was the subtle sign of nerves and excitement that had your pulse quickening.

“Me too.”

“I’m glad,” he said, his voice soft but sincere. “I really am.” He leaned back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. It was strange, yet comforting, knowing that the feelings between you were mutual.

For once, everything felt right again.

“Well then, how about we have an impromptu date right now?” Jaehyun suggested, his nervous look soon turning into something more playful. This was the Jaehyun you were always used to.

“Oh, so now you’re asking to take me out on a date after I just also practically confessed my feelings?” you shot him a look, only for you to end up breaking into a small fit of laughter. “Very smooth, Cupid MJ.”

“It’s only fair that I get to ask you out,” he shrugged, wearing a teasing grin. “Had to beat you to it before you were going to ask me out on a hangout again.”

“Alright then, where would we go?”

“To yours? Actually, I’ve been meaning to add a few prints to your kitchen area. It was looking a little plain, and I should’ve gotten you more prints before.”

“Shading my living space after suggesting we go there is crazy, by the way,” you crossed your arms, jokingly staring at him in disbelief.

Jaehyun let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "You know I didn’t mean it like that."

"If not, then what?" you teased, still shaking your head. "I think you’re just trying to crash into my place, huh?"

He raised his hands in mock surrender, his expression innocent yet mischievous. "Far from that—I just want to see those clay figures you’ve got if you still have them. I’ve been curious."

Another soft laugh escapes from your lips, and the warmth in your chest spreads further. “Come see it then,” you said, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them. Honestly, you were waiting for the next time he’d suggest going to your place. You wanted him to come over again. “I’ll show you that I kept my word on keeping our figures.”

Jaehyun’s smile widened, his eyes lighting up as if your invitation was exactly what he’d hoped for. “Lead the way,” he said, following right after you as you stood up to walk back into your apartment complex—this time, with him by your side.

The conversation between you two flowed easily, like it always had, and with every exchanged word and giggle, Jaehyun found himself being able to learn a few things.

One, that the Cupid Rules were never as severe or strict as he once believed. Fate had its own way of working, and despite all the supposed boundaries and obstacles, it had led him right back to you—the very person he once thought the Cupid Universe forcefully separated him from.

Two, he had been so fooled to be convinced that removing the love arrow effects would help erase the emotions entangled between you both. Instead, he was right back here with you. And this time, there was nothing to blame, no external force to credit for his sudden rush of emotions—just the undeniable truth that, even without all of that, he still would have chosen you anyway. He couldn’t complain, not when this was exactly where he wanted to be.

And three—the one thing he could fully believe about the Cupid’s Handbook was Rule #10.

Once a client, always your client.

Jaehyun could only hope those words were true. That no matter where life led you both, no matter what ended up being in the way, he could always find a way to stay by your side for good.

That’s when he knew that being only with you was the only thing he wanted.

His first, true love.

𓊆 🗯️ 𓊇 CUPID’S FINAL WORDS ✶ TYSM FOR READING UNTIL THE END ^^ !! this feels so bittersweet completing like actually… 💔 so… if i were to write for more cupid aus, would you guys like that?? since i do have some ideas but not for all members yet so…. please let me know ♡

BND PERM TAGLIST ( OPEN ) — @juyeoz @j4d @itsactuallylina @rizzwoos @htaesan @macapunoz

725 notes · View notes