#if someone left him gifts on his desk in college; that would be one thing. he may as well thought it was sweet in a 'secret admirer' way

[desi2go]

First little crush

pairing: Felix x reader

warning: just pure fluff!

authour's note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIXIEEEE! Y'all don't know but he was the one that brought me into kpop and Stray Kids with his deep as fuck voice. He was also my first bias before Chan stole my heart <3 So he owns a very special place in my heart <3<3<3<3

Even if Felix wouldn't want to accept it at first, he must admit that during the time in college, he somehow got feelings for you, one of his closest friends since he stepped into the classroom for the first time. It happened unintentional but here he was. But he was way too shy to ask you out, fearing that you might not feel the same and cut down your friendship at all.

Instead, Felix puts little notes on your desk in your next class during lunch when you were with your other friends, always leaving you something to come back to. Just a little writing to remind you that he likes the way your hair looks today or how nice your new earrings are. Even if you just smiled so pretty for a second, he would put it on the note.

It was not the only thing he did secretly. After watching some sappy romantic movies with Changbin, he copied some methods to show you how much he liked you, even if you didn't know who it was.

From time to time, you found flowers, your favourite ones, left outside of your dorm room, between some flowers was a note with sweet nothings, making your heart warm and fluffy. Chocolates were placed gently in your locker, a red ribbon tied securely around it. They were always your favourite and you wondered every time you got some, who sended them to you and exactly knew what kind you liked.

You would lie when you say that you knew who it was. In fact, you had absolutely NO idea who it is, not even in the slightest. There was nobody that looked at you different or seemed to have feelings for you. The idea of your secret admirer being Felix never crossed your mind. Even when you silently hoped that it was him but you weren't gonna to say that out loud. It didn't seem like he had any interest so you definitely aren't going to bring that up.

Seungmin and Yeongin teased you relentlessly, making fun of who your secret lover could be. And they were just as unknowing.

After some time, they had enough. It took them all too long for your lover to reveal his identity and they decided to find out on their own. They observed your locker like a treasure, always keeping an eye on it and they even wrangled Minho and Hyunjin into helping them finding the culprit.

They took shifts in watching your locker, observing the environment if someone looked suspicious. The only time, they left the locker alone was at night and when you all had class. These were the only opportunities for Felix to put you some treats into it in secret. He felt like a ninja on a special mission, fearing that someone could see him.

Even though Hyunjin commented that everytime they left the classroom it was always Felix who was the last one to leave. But you just laughed it off - not paying any attention to his suggestion since there was no way that he could be your Romeo.

Felix felt increasingly anxious and freaking out as he watches you and his friends attempting to work out who is leaving you all these little gifts. He even compared you to Sherlock Holmes but he must admit that Holmes was more successful. Silently, smug with himself.

But all the work was worth it as soon as he saw your eyes light up each time you received something new from him. Mindlessly, he scribbles in his notes images of you, drawing your beautiful face and that angelic smile that slowed down his whole world. They never looked good enough compared to the real version. Plus, he wasn't as talented as Hyunjin but at least you could tell who he pictured. He never showed his friends his drawings, immediatly grabbing his notes and hiding it when someone tried to sneek a glance over his shoulder.

One time, he gifted you a box and when he saw a little red ribbon in your hair the next day, he nearly lost it. He was on cloud nine - seeing you wearing something that he had gifted to you. Of course, you were doing it unknowingly but it has happened none the less.

From that moment, he decided that wants - no needs - to buy everything for you. He wanted everything you would wear to come from him. Every piece of food you eat he needed to buy.

However, Hyunjin grew even more suspicious and one day, he claimed that he would get proof of her suspicion. One thing that Felix learned while being friends with him was that as soon as he had a goal, he was going to achieve it. No matter what. And Felix knows it is just a matter of time, the clock was ticking.

So, he was left with only two options - confess or get caught red handed.

Hours were spended on the internet - searching for the right answer without success. Heck, he even watched more of the romantic movies with Changbin but he is still having trouble.

He couldn't go to Chan - his friend was even more helpless than he is with approaching his crush. So there was only one choice when he didn't want to get caught from Hyunjin. Confessing.

He held his breath as he knocked on your dorm room door, hands sweaty and shaking. A beautiful bouquet in his hands as he waited for you to open.

He had his words worked out, after hours of thinking. He had practised in front of his mirror before coming to you. Every word from his planned out confession got lost in head when he sees the door opening and you peeked outside. Nervously, he swallowed, opening his mouth to start confessing but not one sound came out, not one word.

He catched the small smirk on your face when you examined the bouquet.

"Are these for me?" The slight teasing was obvious in your voice - but not uncomfortable. However, it still made him blush harder.

Felix still couldn't find his words, in his head was only a turmoil, so, he nodded shortly and pushed the flowers towards your arms. He avoided your gaze with burying his head in his own shoulder.

You smiled and let out a small chuckle as you observed the sweet smelling flowers in your hands. You noticed that this one was much bigger than the normal ones he usually laid in front of your door - he had really outdone himself with that.

Silently, he watched you glide back into your dorm room - setting up the vase for the flowers he had just gifted you. It never left its place since you got so many bouquets over the months. In the meantime, he stood ridged in your doorway, fiddling with his fingers.

Again, your head poked out with a smile and a sweet blush on your cheeks. "Are you going to come in?" you asked and he completely froze for a moment. He definitely never thought about you accepting his mixed up and embarissing confession. But when he processed your words, he was quick to follow you with fast steps in case you changed your opinion. He had never moved faster in all his life.

Hyunjin stood with Seungmin in a dark corner of the corridor, neither Felix or you had noticed them. Only their head peaked around the corner so that they could watch the scene unfold in front of their own eyes. Seungmin's eyes had doubled, blown wide, and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

"No way. He was the secret lover?!" Never in one million years he would have guessed that one of his friends was the admirer. He thought that Felix would be too shy to approach you, even gifting you something never crossed his mind.

Hyunjin just smirked in triumph. "I fucking knew it" he exclaimed laughing at Seungmin's expression.

"Well, give me my well earned money. A bet is a bet!" he added and Seungmin grumpily pulled his wallet out after rolling his eyes and handed his friend the money. He will never bet against Hyunjin, that was clear.

[d1s1ntegrated]

Your headcanons and fics are so real and true to me… Would it be possible to make a fic/ list of headcanons in a college/ school AU where shigaraki is weirdly obsessed with y/n ? please and thank you🙏

i had this as a draft and it got deleted </3 but YASSSSSS i love creepy shig! also sorry in advance...

to be seen (slight nsfw)

stalker!shiggy x friendly and slightly naive!reader oneshot

quirkless college au !

summary: shigaraki is obsessed with you. you like being his friend. mistakes happen.

cw: painnnnn, unrequited love, pining, stalker activities, masturbation mentioned, pervert mindset, language, slight mention of drunk sex, panty sniffing? is that what i call it????

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

shigaraki was your classmate in creative writing. he was a little reclusive, but you didn't mind. you just sat next to the guy (when he decided to show up to class anyways). what you knew about him was minimal, but oh, the things he knew about you. he had memorized your class schedule, he knew when your period started and ended. he knew when you were going out, and when you'd come back. he knew you lost your pens frequently, so he bought a pack for when you inevitably asked to borrow one from him. and licked them all, in hopes you'd chew on the ends like you usually do.

he never meant to get this bad, actually.

see, it all started when you were assigned a workshopping assignment for a story, so he invited you to his dorm to work on it. he wasn't prepared, you showed up ten minutes after you texted him. he didn't even have time to shower, he was still sitting in cum-stained sweats and his favorite (albeit a bit gross) hoodie. but you cared nonetheless, you just wanted to finish the work. so you sat in his bed in your little shorts as he perched at his desk and ogled.

after you left, he shoved his face in the small imprint on his mattress and came buckets to the mere idea of your ass on his sheets. the obsession grew from there. his lack of attendance turned perfect, punctual even. he said hi every fucking day, even when you weren't really in the mood to talk. you didn't mind the company, hell, he was nice enough and surprisingly smart for someone so...like him. he texted you, too. reminders about due dates, notes, etc. you usually just replied with a "thanks!" or "okay ty", but it was more than enough for him.

he asked to come to your dorm to work one day-he lied and said his ac was broken. you bit the offer anyways and he showed up right on time, papers in hand like a proud child showing off their artwork. this time, you were in basic sweatpants and a tank top. he didn't mind- you were on your period this week, he knew that. the idea actually made his toes curl in his converse. when you went to grab a snack, he jumped for the dirty laundry basket and snagged the first pair of panties he could find, shoving them hastily into his hoodie pocket. he went back to his dorm that night and jerked off with the soft cotton in his mouth, sucking up every ounce of you he could.

he couldn't get enough of you. you were a drug to him, a lethal one at that. he couldn't eat or sleep without the idea of you easing him. he couldn't cum to anything other than your social media profile and the little smiley faces you texted him.

when you skipped class because of a cold, he showed up at your door with hot soup that he spit in and the notes from that day's lecture.

on your birthday, he bought you a pretty pink cupcake and a new pair of headphones because yours mysteriously went missing.

when you left for home on winter break, he cried every night while jerking off because he missed you so badly. you were his only friend, his lover, his prized possession.

the next semester, he made sure his schedule was an exact replica of yours. even though half of the classes he didn't even need, or have interest in. but fuck, any reason to see you was good enough for him. he didn't want to take it too far, but he ended up there anyways. he started to bring you little gifts almost every day. a new notebook, a coffee, he even bought you a new water bottle because he was there when yours fell on the tiled floor in the great hall and dented to shit. even when you said it was okay and still functional, a new (and better) one was on your desk the next day, already full with ice water and a little purple bow on the top of it.

you didn't need to know that he was cumming on the things he brought, or shoving them into his mouth and "cleaning them off" lazily because he needed you to have him so fucking badly.

it got to the point where he was begging you to hang out every day after class, and you stupidly agreeing every night because you had nothing better to do. because you felt bad for him. even with his...faults, you found a comfort in him. he was just a really good friend, which is hard to come by in college.

so you played video games with him and went out for coffee and lunch dates because that's what friends do. you fell asleep in his bed while studying a few times and he never minded, because that's what friends do. you went home in his clothes one night because he accidentally spilt a drink on you and offered to wash your clothes with his laundry, because that's. what. friends. do.

nevermind the pictures he had of you asleep in his bed. or your ass when you bent over in building 130 to pick up your phone. or your tits pressed against the table from coffee date number 2. all in a little folder tucked away in a calculator app.

nevermind all the pairs of your socks and underwear, hair ties and used napkins, empty bottles, the sample size of your perfume, all shoved away in his dresser drawer.

nevermind the returned clothes you wore that you never did get to washing because when you went, all the machines were in use and he needed them back. that he also never washed.

shigaraki was a weird kid. but you were friends, in your mind. you were lovers eternal in his.

so when you dragged him to a frat party and got drunk with him, stumbling back into his dorm at 3am, it wasn't a big deal.

it wasn't a big deal when he kissed you, hard. because you were friends, lovers, dramatically doomed from the start because of two very different life paths. the kind of love story that ends with cardboard boxes and good lucks. it wasn't a big deal to you when you took his virginity, sloppy and intoxicated, because you promised yourself you wouldn't fall for a guy you met in class.

but it was a big deal, and it wasn't a mistake, not to him. it wasn't a mistake when he came inside of you, crying, repeating the worst three words known to those who just wanted to be friends. it was a big deal and it was a mistake to tell him you loved him too, not because it was a lie, but because you knew full and goddamned well what you had done to such a broken man like him.

he never deserved your kindness. he never deserved the taste of you. but you let him have it, and he would never let that go.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

okay ouchie im sorry this was a beautiful prompt and i fear i brought the vibes sooooo down with this one. but i cant always write smut lads, sorryyyyyy!

i hope you enjoyed. also i hope i made this as stalker-creepy vibes as possible

i didnt wanna go full sicko mode w his stalker tendencies in this one bc in my mind, he just wants to be loved ;-;

thank you for the request and lmk if this one hits or not! i can try again if it doesnt spark joy lol

[hunterbunter3000]

Krueger being a seat sniffer isn’t shocking tbh 💀 that man def already picked out the names of his and Sweetheart’s future kids and wedding plans detailed in a binder (is he manifesting or delusional; who knows lol!).

He also def has a shrine dedicated to Sweetheart openly in his room, atleast the other boys have the decency to hide their shrines in their closet 😤😂

LMAOOO STOP THATS SO HIM (AND FUCKING EVERYONE ELSE)

He has like- three binders and two notebooks he has for Sweetheart and his future with her. Like it's just FILLED with where they would live, how many kids they would have, tHEIR NAMES, the colleges they would go to, the house he wants to get when they get married, THE WEDDING

MANS IS EVEN PLANNING FOR THEIR RETIREMENT LIKE-- KRUEGER??? he's delulu and manifesting for this to happen!! Let's cheer him on! ✨️🙏 PFFTT-

And yes. He has a shrine of Sweetheart. OBVIOUSLY. THE MOMENT YOU WALK IN its right there in your face. It's sitting on a small table-like stand and it's FILLED with framed pictures of Sweetheart and heart shaped candles around them. There's a long frame with gold on it, and inside of it is a nail set he got her his first time ever (that was three years ago 💀) She told him it was coming off, and she was so sad because he got it for her (he fell in love with her more because of that) so he helped her get them off, and he told her that he'll throw them away.

S I K E

once she left he threw them in his pocket so fast and ran off to his room 💀💀 and then there's a pedestal on the table, and it has a small, marble bust of Sweetheart he paid someone to do on etsy (HE LOVES ETSY IM NOT CHANGING MY MIND) and what's crazy is that all of its glued down to the table, and there's a button behind it, so he presses that button when Sweetheart comes around and the table top flips, being empty and he places magazines on the clean top 🧍‍♀️ THE MAN HAS A SECRET CONTRAPTION FOR HIS SHRINE

(You can't deny the fact that he prays to it as well. You CANT)

He's down horrifically bad. He wants her sO BADLY

well get tf in line BIG BOY CAUSE SO DOES EVERYONE ELSE

They don't really have shrines like Krueger (because he's delusional) but everyone does have a picture of Sweetheart or some sort of gift she's made them somewhere in their room. Or on them.

Like Alejandro has a small gold locket of Sweetheart he wears around his neck and NEVER TAKES IT OFF-- and when he's about to go on a mission, he kisses the locket, says a small prayer and puts it under his shirt, so he knows that he's protected and has someone to go back to (why am I making myself cry)

Rudy has a picture of Sweetheart framed with a letter she sent him on his desk with the little things she's made him. He reads the letter every time he misses her (WHY AM I DOING THIS TO MYSELF)

Ghost wears a braided friendship bracelet Sweetheart made him. (Its black and blue with lil skulls) He hides it on his left wrist with his glove, but he still wears it. When he's not around Sweetheart, he plays with the ties and smiles

Soap has like a little collage of pictures of Sweetheart and him on a corkboard. They take pictures when they're in a new country or state and collect weeds of flowers and give it to each other (SO CUTE I LOVE SOAP) and his sketchbook is FILLED of Sweetheart-- like he remembers what she looks like so much he sketches her from memory. And he uses a separate sketchbook for her, he calls it "Sweet's Looks".

Gaz only has one picture of her, and it's on his phone. It's Sweetheart cuddled up on his side, hand on his chest while watching a movie. It's obviously his home screen wallpaper (not his lock screen he can't handle that) he also has a little basket of different rocks Sweetheart has given him because she has a little basket of rocks he has given her as well (they're birds I tell ya)

Price has a photo of her in his hat. That's why he never lets anyone touch it, and his heart beats a little quicker when Sweetheart wears is hat cause he's nervous she's gonna see the picture (she has, and it's her and Brutus together and she squeals everytime in her mind)

Roach has a picture of Sweetheart taped to a bear. 🧍‍♀️ don't really wanna go into that one--

Alex has like- one of those photo booth type of pictures. Yk the ones that come in threes or fours. They went to a mall and Sweetheart HAD to get some. Alex uses his as a bookmark.

Now Horangi is like Krueger. He DOES have a shrine but it's in his closet. You will NEVER SEE IT.

König would have a shrine in his closet as well, but it's SMALL. Like two pictures and a good luck letter she wrote to him when he was on a mission. He's so soft for her good lord.

Graves has like.... I don't know a paperclip? That Sweetheart gave him? Think he still has that pen that Sweetheart forgot to take back. Still counts.

[juceynightmare]

dating 101 (18+) part 13 - cody rhodes x reader

my masterlist

dating 101 (18+) masterlist

pairing(s): cody rhodes x reader, roman reigns x reader

warning(s): swearing, all-knowing!ted

genre(s): college!au, slow burn, fluff, angst

|| previous part || next part ||

y/n had made of fool of herself by trying to stand up immediately after cody was finished wiping away at her core and had quite literally fallen on her face. she wanted to be mad at the way cody had laughed at her and teased her with a “i knew i was good, but i didn’t know i was that good.” but she could only laugh alongside him as cody picked her up and steadied her on her feet. the two went off to shower after y/n regained her footing, and despite cody’s suggestive look, she had shoved him out of her shower stall and shut the door in his face to leave him taking a shower in the stall beside hers. even with all the activities that filled her morning, it still wouldn’t be for another hour that roman would arrive.

that left y/n to sit at her desk, munching away on a clif bar while cody was shoving her blanket and bedsheets into her laundry basket. she stood up and walked over to cody, tapping at his shoulder to make him look at her. she held up the clif bar to his mouth, and said, “finish it. i don’t want to get too full before my date.”

cody leaned down, grabbing the clif bar with his mouth and letting out a muffled, “thanks sweetheart.” he dropped the towel he used to wipe y/n and himself off into the laundry basket and grabbed the clif bar with his hand so he could hold it properly and finish it.

y/n threw away the wrapper that cody had left in her hand when he grabbed the bar with his mouth, before walking back over to her desk and opening one of the drawers. she pulled out a box of plan b and a pair of scissors, cutting open the plastic container that held the actual box. “i’m supposed to take only one, right?” she asked.

cody’s eyebrows furrowed as he walked over to y/n, peeking into her desk. “for someone who was a virgin, it’s shocking that you have even one plan b, but i don’t know why you would have a second one in here.” he commented, before grabbing for the other box that sat in the drawer. he read the back before answering, “yeah just take one. you should be fine.”

“they were going away gifts from my friends from high school. you know, the girls, their boyfriends, and then austin.” she answered truthfully, grinning at the memory of her high school friend group gifting her the plan b’s the day before she left for college.

“for when you finally get some in your dorm!” she could hear indi and candice saying to her, while their boyfriends, dexter and johnny, laughed beside them.

“and the second one’s for when you come home and bend over for me.” y/n remembered rolling her eyes at austin’s comment and chasing him around with a lightsaber afterwards.

god, she really missed her friends.

“and i took them because it’s supposedly 50 bucks for one.” y/n continued, holding the pill in one hand while she reached for her water bottle with the other. y/n quickly swallowed the pill, watching as cody gathered up her trash and threw it out for her. afterwards, he reached out and grabbed her container of tide pods, opening it up and taking one out. “you don’t have to wash my stuff, you know. i could have done it when i got back.” she said.

cody shook his head, already walking back over to where her laundry basket was and picking it up. “it’s fine, sweetheart. i also helped making the mess, anyway.” he assured her, already making his way towards the door. “i’ll be back!” he called out to her as he left, making his way down to the laundry room.

y/n stared at cody’s back as he left the room, watching the way his shoulder and arm muscles flexed as he adjusted the laundry basket in his hands. she no longer felt shy about staring, after all, she had gotten the chance to see and feel all of cody. although, that wasn’t the most difficult thing for someone to do. she thought to herself, amused. y/n sat back down in her chair, plugging in her hair dryer and beginning to blow dry her hair.

she hadn’t even notice ted walk into the room, but then again, she was focused on her reflection in the small mirror she had on her desk, and the sound of the hair dryer was far too loud for her to hear ted open his door and walk over to her room.

“you look beautiful, y/n. roman’s a lucky guy.” ted said from behind her, causing y/n to jump in her seat. she turned off her hair dryer and turned her head to where she heard ted, smiling up at him. she reached a hand up, and smacked ted in the chest lightly.

“you could have made a noise when you came in, at least!” she scolded him, before unplugging her hair dryer. ted had perfect timing for when he made his presence known, as she had just finished drying and styling her hair.

“i did! you probably didn’t hear me over your hair dryer, though.” he defended himself, watching as y/n reached for a necklace on her jewelry stand. she held it up for ted to take, before turning around and lifting her hair up for him. “i was just going to sit on your bed in silence until you noticed, but i can’t help but note that one, there are no bed sheets, and two, there is no cody.” he laughed as he bent down slightly to put the necklace on y/n.

“what was that about no cody?” cody questioned as he walked back into the room, placing y/n’s now empty laundry basket back in its place. he looked over at y/n as she let her hair down after ted had tapped her shoulder to let her know the necklace was clasped on.

“man don’t tell me you’re doing her laundry for her.” ted laughed, walking over to cody and placing a hand on his shoulder. “can’t go simping over her when she’s about to go on a date with roman. you’re already too late.” he teased.

cody shoved ted’s hand off of his shoulder, and shot back, “man shut up. i’m not a simp, i’m just helping her out. and you would have done the same for her too. remember when you were literally folding her laundry for her and cleaning her room while she sat there and watched her movies.”

ted gasped, feigning offense. “she was on her period, wouldn’t stop complaining about doing her chores, and i was getting tired of her bitchin’ and complaining. and you could have helped me, but nooo you just had to go get pussy.” ted brought his arms up, and shifted himself so that he was standing in front of cody. the two caught each other in a wrestling lock-up, and pretended to struggle to out-muscle the other man.

it was a sight that y/n had gotten used to, especially once the two men found out they both had a history in wrestling.

“you know, you two already do so much for me as your best friend. the girls have even dubbed it as you two doing ‘boyfriend duties’. your future girlfriends are definitely going to be real lucky to have one of you.” y/n chimed in from where she sat in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest and a wide smile plastered on her face.

“oh hell no.” cody immediately yelled out, breaking free of the hold. “if you think i would ever get cuffed, then you must be in some sort of nightmare. i’m way too good of a guy to be limited to just one lady, there’s plenty of me to go around.” he smirked, gesturing to his upper body while ted simply shook his head and laughed.

“you better not be trying to seduce my date right in front of me, uce. get in the back of the line.” came an amused voice from the hallway. cody, ted, and y/n all averted their gaze to the source of the voice, finding roman standing out in the hall.

the sight of roman had knocked the wind out of y/n’s lungs, and she was certain the world around her had paused to a stop. it seemed that she wasn’t the only one who had dressed to impress, as roman was clad in slacks that hugged his thighs deliciously, and a black button up shirt that y/n could tell could barely hold in the man’s muscles.

“don’t worry, roman. i got enough for you too.” cody jokingly flirted, walking over to roman and greeting him with a handshake. he gestured for ted to follow him out of the room with his head. “have a good date!”

“alright, we’ll get out. have fun you two, and roman, use protection.” ted said his goodbyes to roman and y/n before following cody out of y/n’s room and straight into their own.

ted watched as cody sat down at his desk with a sigh, before shutting and locking the door behind him. “where were you this morning? after you got woken up by a phone call?” ted asked, sitting down in his own chair. he turned to face cody completely, a mischievous smile on his face.

cody shrugged, not knowing where ted was going with this conversation or why ted would question his whereabouts. it wasn’t like ted should care in the first place where cody was. “just a hookup, early morning sex, you know.” cody answered, flipping the top of his macbook open.

ted scooted over, closing cody’s macbook before the man could even type in his password. “hookup? surely not with y/n, right?” he pressed further. ted watched as, for the first time in the short time ted’s known cody, cody tensed up.

“no, not with y/n. where are you going with this? what does it matter to you where i was this morning?” cody suddenly questioned, turning his head to look at ted.

“it woke me up too, you know. the ringer.” ted mused, not faltering under cody’s gaze that had grown so defensive.

“my bad, i guess? i wasn’t exactly expecting to be woken up so early, and with a phone call, for that matter.” cody apologized, although he didn’t ease up. where was ted going with this? he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around it.

“are you sure it wasn’t with y/n? you know, that’d be on brand for you. taking our friend’s virginity the morning before she goes on a date with roman.” ted continued to press, watching the way cody had grown uncomfortable with each question. in truth, ted didn’t know anything besides the fact that yes, cody had gotten a phone call at ass o’clock that woke both him and ted up, and that cody reeked of sex when he returned to the room to grab his shower stuff while ted was still in bed and supposedly sleeping. he also knew that y/n was absolutely glowing when he first laid eyes on her - a glow that ted would dare compare to an after sex glow.

what had really got him to question cody’s whereabouts was the fact that y/n’s bedsheets weren’t on her bed, and cody was the one doing her laundry for her. cody had gotten ted with catching ted folding laundry and cleaning y/n’s room, but that was in ted’s nature to look after his friends.

but cody? cody never even showed interest in doing his own laundry, so why would he suddenly want to do y/n’s?

“dude, how are you not uncomfortable asking about whether or not i slept with y/n?” cody asked, taking a few seconds to think of a way to get ted off of his back. “man, she‘s a fucking virgin. she’d probably want to lose it to someone she trusts and that’d be her future boyfriend or whatever. besides, it’d be like” cody paused for a second, watching the way ted had leaned back in his seat and stared at him intently. “it’d be like fucking my sister.” he finished.

ted visibly cringed at the thought. yeah, he supposes that by now he already viewed y/n as if she were years younger than them and a sister figure to both even though she was the same age and clearly not related to either of them. “ok yeah, i get it. why’d you put that visual in my head?” ted questioned, turning himself away from cody and facing his desk as he turned his macbook on.

a silence filled the room, one that left ted uncomfortable and cody wondering what made ted catch on to him. he knew the rooms were soundproof, and ted clearly wasn’t in the room when cody and y/n had impulsively decided to fuck. cody figured y/n wanted to keep their newfound dynamic under wraps, especially since she’d most likely become exclusive with roman soon.

“what even made you think that the person i hooked up with was y/n?” cody questioned, pulling ted out of his thoughts.

ted shrugged his shoulders. “it’s very vague and i definitely looked too far into it, but i knew you had just fucked someone, you came back to get your shower stuff even though you take showers at night and you reeked of sex, man.” he said, shaking his head at the way cody had chuckled out a soft “my bad.”

ted reached over, nudging cody’s shoulder with his fist as if to let him know that it was all good. “but then i saw y/n, and you had to have noticed it too, but she’s absolutely glowing. i’d even compare it to an after sex glow.” he continued, smiling at the memory of y/n sitting at her desk. “but i guess she’s just that stunning. especially since today’s a special day for her’.”

cody felt his chest swell with pride knowing that he was, in fact, the cause of that glow that radiated off of y/n and not the fact that she had a date with roman. “lucky guy.” he sighed out, shaking his head. “that’s it? just the fact that i smelled like sex and she was glowing that you had to question me like i just committed a crime?”

“the laundry.” ted quickly answered. “y/n and i literally have to drag you out of bed to tell you to do your laundry. but then here you are doing y/n’s bedsheets for her. do you see why i find it suspicious?” he questioned, turning his attention back to cody.

cody shrugged his shoulders, defending quickly, “man i do one nice thing and you take it as me sleeping with our friend.“

without missing a beat, ted laughed and let out a “most definitely.” cody grabbed the nearest item to him on his desk, an empty water bottle, and chucked it at ted’s head.

“i’ve found myself getting protective over y/n lately. i guess it’s obvious now that you mentioned the whole sister thing, but she’s kind of like that to me now.” ted admitted, shaking his head. “sorry about jumping to conclusions, cody.”

“no worries. if i was in your position, i’d probably question the hell out of you.” cody admitted, turning his attention back to his macbook and turning it on so he could get started on work for the day. “you know, especially since you rarely get pussy these days.” he teased, to which ted responded by throwing back the empty water bottle at cody’s head. towards the forefront of his thoughts, cody could hear himself thank whatever power was above them that made sure ted didn’t see the plan b in the trash.

and yet, cody couldn’t help but find it exciting knowing that y/n and him may eventually get caught.

|| next part ||

[the-last-rat-standing]

Both @justagibbsgirl and @i-run-with-scissors39 made a really good point about the Gibbs absence in the Ducky tribute episode- if we'd had a funeral scene, we would've gotten a much deeper emotional impact from a eulogy, the camera could've panned the gathered guests to show a myriad of former characters we've missed over the years, AND, they could've shown Gibbs in the back, unseen by the guests, paying silent tribute to Ducky. Brian Dietzen said Mark Harmon didn't come back because of 'scheduling conflicts', but as @i-run-with-scissors39 said, they could've filmed it separately at any time, because it would've just been him.

But none of this happened. In fact, what really happened in that episode that was memorable? Besides Tony showing up. (I'll get back to that in a minute.) McGee had 1 flashback, Vance had 1 flashback and Jimmy had 4. Jimmy also had the most screen time and was given the most emotional scenes. A lot of that is understandable- he was the only one left with the strongest connection to Ducky. But there were other people with connections to him, too. And we didn't get to see that. The only person outside of the regular cast of season 21 to show up was Tony. I mean, think about that, just for a second. No character outside of the current squad showed up. Not even Tobias! Instead, they handwaved the work/money (?) involved to make something more meaningful happen by showing flowers and Polaroids.

Even the Crime of the Day fell flat. So some girl we've never met is getting hassled by her college because her dead dad's getting slandered in the press by a senator. A senator who, I guess didn't get arrested at the end? Just stepped down from his position? Why did the senator pick that Marine anyway? (I know he served with him, but what was the point in naming that particular Marine?) And if I see one more reference to someone gifting someone a scholarship fund, I don't know if I'll be able to unroll my eyes. And yes, I know the MCSF was a big thing for David McCallum, so it made sense in this context, but the fact there's a Leroy Jethro Gibbs Scholarship Fund joke almost undermined the whole thing. (Would've been nice if they'd had a link at the end of the episode to the MCSF.)

Instead of this random girl and her dead dad, how about a cold case Ducky was working on? Maybe Jimmy sees it on Ducky's desk (or finds it in the secret spot behind a picture /eyeroll) and decides he's going to solve it. The team wants to help but are sceptical it can be done, but Jimmy's absolutely determined to do it, to the point of almost obsession. It would be his way of putting off dealing with Ducky's death while also making one last connection with him. They end up solving it because one of the flashbacks gives an indirect clue. You know, like Ducky's cryptic message to the team about where to find the nothing file behind the photo in his office. /eyeroll again

I loved the fact that Jimmy never took off his lab coat, even though he didn't do any lab work the entire episode. Him walking around the bullpen in his lab coat solving a case was just... well, I guess that's where the show is now, yeah? Sean Murray didn't want to step forward as the face of the show, so Brian Dietzen did. And you know what? Good for him. It's a hell of an arc over 20 years for him. But whether he meant to or not, he ended up making this episode about him. Every emotional thread went through Jimmy; every emotional moment was Jimmy's. When Diona Reasonover's voice cracked in the bullpen ("Any suggestions as to how to do that?"), it felt like the only real moment given to anyone other than Jimmy. Probably because 3 of the team didn't really know Ducky, so they could only experience the loss through other characters. It's why we got Knight reading Ducky's journal to bring up a Gibbs flashback, and it's why Torres did the same with McGee. It's why Parker was in charge of the flowers or something. And I try to remember they're new when I hear Knight say, "Dying quietly in your sleep isn't the worst way to go." JFC, lady.

I dunno. Kate was on for 2 years and I felt the show handled her death with so much more emotion. Her loss rippled through the team and we felt it because we saw the characters feel it. The Ducky episode was a lot of telling rather than showing, and what showing they did was through Jimmy instead of a handful of the hundreds of people whose lives Ducky touched in 20 years.

Oh, and Tony. Great to see one of the Originals, and Tony, in small doses, can bring the depth the scene needs. But being tacked onto the end of the episode made it fell exactly what it was- a surprise cameo to wow the fans rather than a true nod of respect to Ducky/David.

It should've been more. It could've been more.

[fluffyf0x]

FORGOTTEN VALENTINE

Kaedehara Kazuha x Reader

Sleepysnk valentine special Collab!!!

TW: n/a

Plot synopsis: Kazuha usually works overtime, and it was February 14, your anniversary. He apparently forgot about it being your anniversary and tried his best to make up to it.

Forgotten Valentine

｡･ﾟﾟ･ Now Playing: Good old Fashioned Lover boy by Queen　･ﾟﾟ･｡

Kazuha felt fear. He wasn't sure what it was, but his gut told me there was something weird. Something that he was... Forgetting?

He double checked the calendar and saw that it was February 14. He raised his brow. He should probably buy something for his girlfriend. It was Valentines after all. He sighed, looking back to the computer screen.

He needed to finish his work first. Piles upon piles of papers he needed to encode and revise. The busy environment of the office and his boss screaming at the other employees didn't help with the stress he felt right now.

Kazuha looked at the framed photo of him and his girlfriend, (name). He smiled softly, fingers ghosting over the photo. It calmed him somehow.

It was weird, how he felt around you. It wasn't the same way you said you would feel around someone you've fallen for. He didn't feel butterflies around you. He didn't feel like his heart was pounding. Well sometimes it does. But it was different from how stories and people play how being in love felt.

He felt calm, he felt safe and comfortable when he's with you. Like he could do anything and you wouldn't judge. It was simple. He knew he admired you. It might not be the same way everyone describes love, but he was sure, he loved you.

Kazuha knew he wanted to be with you.

He saw his boss starting to walk towards him. He quickly turned back to his computer screen, fixing his posture. He typed away and tried to look busy and working. His boss stopped by the desk, narrowing his eyes on as if he was judging him. Kazuha looked over and smiled awkwardly. His boss left right away.

Kazuha sighed in relief. With all the work he needed to finish, another scolding wasn't something that would help...at all.

Kazuha already knew he left early in the morning, (name) still being asleep. He hoped to that he wouldn't need to leave late in the night later.

Kazuha felt that something was wrong. He hasn't gotten any message from (name) and second, he was really forgetting something. Kazuha walked out of the office with Beidou who was already lighting a cigarette. Beidou laughed as Kazuha gave her a confused look.

"Ah, I remember how you asked out (name) on this fateful day 5 years ago, you guys were mere college students who were about to graduate." Beidou said. Kazuha widen his eyes as he looked at the female.

"SHIT"

Kazuha dashed and left Beidou in a hurry.

No no no no no, how could he forget? He was so stupid.

He pulled out his phone as he dashed inside the flower shop. Panting a bit as he ordered his girlfriend's favorite flowers. His phone vibrated and rang as multiple messages from his friends, his family and his girlfriend showed up.

Oh god he was absolutely stupid.

Kazuha thanked the florist. Admiring their beautiful handiwork. He was sure that you would love this.

He then rushed to another store to buy chocolates. Knowing that you like (favorite chocolate) the most. He never really asked but he was pretty sure it was your favorite, especially with the amount of times you've eaten it.

Kazuha stopped in his tracks as he passed by a electronics store. He remembered a few weeks back that you wanted this specific mini fan. Fortunately for him, he got his salary just recently and isn't really hesitant to buy things for you. Kazuha smiled, purchasing the mini fan.

"Your girlfriend is lucky" the woman by the cashier said, noticing all the gifts Kazuha bought. She seemed to be pretty young. She smiled as Kazuha returned the smile. He took the paper bag with the mini fan and left. On his way to the train station, one the way home.

Kazuha walked in to the shared apartment. You and Kazuha were able to find a good apartment with a pretty cheap price. The two of you even questioned at first if it was legit. After confirming and checking out the apartment, the two of you rented it.

Kazuha first noticed the smell of food. He also noticed your scent was a bit far from the food. So he guessed that you were in the room. He walked there and saw sitting there, reading a book. You looked up after noticing a presence. Seeing Kazuha standing there awkwardly with a flower bouquet and chocolates and a paper bag.

You raised your eyebrow in question.

"You forgot it was our anniversary huh?" You asked. Kazuha chuckled and nodded. He walked towards you giving you all the gifts.

"Yes, I apologize my love" Kazuha said. You laughed as he kissed you in the forehead.

"You're forgiven. You got me all of this-" you stopped in your tracks as you saw what was in the paper bag. You grinned.

"You got the mini fan"

Kazuha nodded sheepishly. You put down the gifts and hugged him, standing on tiptoes. Burying your head to his neck. You inhaled his scent and enjoyed the peace as he hugged you back.

"Happy anniversary Kazuha" you whispered. Kazuha smiled softly, looking at you as he rubbed your back.

"Happy anniversary my love"

[wutbju]

Shelly Hamilton posted a real stinker this week. A real, victim-blaming stinker. Look carefully how she juggles the conversation so that she (as a metonymy for fundamentalism writ large) is the actual victim.

Victor, not Victim

I’ve heard far too many stories of young people criticizing their Christian homes, schools, and churches on public social media platforms. Some go after these institutions with a venom Satan himself would be proud to claim.

It appears to be a popular trend. Once one person starts the rampage of blaming anything and everything God put in their path, then another gets on board. One person equals two, equals four, equals eight, and so forth. Exponentially, the problem explodes.

Something a lone wolf denounces, spreads like a plague, and starts festering in hearts and minds. The ugly virus calls out to young people everywhere, “Get on board. It’s the thing. You can blame your upbringing for all your problems. There’s comfort in being part of the herd.”

Are homes, churches, or schools perfect? I don’t know of any. Do Christians make mistakes? Yes, all the time. But young people, please don’t let your parent’s, teacher’s and/or pastor’s mistakes condone yours.

I want to tell you the back story of someone who works at Majesty Music. This woman is lovely, vivacious, upbeat, fun-loving, God-serving, and sweet. She has a few of what could be considered “legitimate” circumstances that could make anyone become bitter.

Number one, she was adopted. Number two, her dad was a pastor but had to step down not because of his own doing. Number three, she and her brother were raised most of their growing up years by their dad. Her brother then became a leukemia survivor.

I must admit, although I’ve known her for the eight years she has worked in customer service at Majesty Music, it was not until yesterday that I learned of some of her upbringing. I was shocked. I would never, by the spirit she displays on a daily basis, have dreamt these “could-be reasons” of a despondent and bitter identity existed.

No, not Andrea Allen. Andrea is a victor, not a victim.

I think of Dr. Ben Carson, whose father left him because he had a previous yet still existing wife and family when he married Ben’s mother. Ben’s mother therefore had to scrape for every penny earned and work multiple jobs to put food on the table and a roof over their head. She became depressed and spent months in a mental facility. But Ben Carson became a victor, not a victim.

A victim walks through sand and sees dirt. A victor walks through sand and sees the ingredients to build a sandcastle.

I strongly encourage anyone to stop and think before you publicly condemn a home, parent, church, or school who tried to love you and point you to Christ. You are responsible for your attitude and actions. You don’t have to lift those up as perfect who gave you food, shelter, training, preaching, and Christian community. But you certainly should not throw them in the dirt.

Earlier I said this post was unloving, but as I've reflected on it, it is loving. It is truth spoken from my heart.

Please be respectful of those who dedicated their lives and substance to rear you and teach you. Forgive the mistakes and don’t make them the cause of your bitterness. Listen to the words of one who overcame:

Andrea – “I started taking piano lessons in K5 and continued through most of my school years. Later I took accordion, marimba, and organ lessons for a short time. I worked as a telephone salesperson in high school and at the information desk in college. Little did I know that God would use all these things to help me many years later in my work at Majesty Music.

I used to play the song ‘Rejoice in the Lord’ over and over on the piano, working through many emotions and feelings. Again, little did I know that I would eventually work for the man who wrote the song. What a gift it is to be a part of this family and ministry.

On the side, I enjoy working in my flower beds, playing hymns on the piano for stress relief, traveling with my husband to the beach and the mountains, cooking and having all my family around my dinner table, loving on my granddaughter, and all things candy corn.”

And, of course, Andrea says, “Have a blessed day on purpose.”

Edit: Some took this post to mean no one should speak of physical or sexual abuse. Let me be clear: Abuse should be uncovered, exposed, and dealt with.

People pushed back and explained that she was victim-blaming. And Shelly only doubled down.

Notice that Hamilton says that Stephanie Congdon's truth-telling about her abuse is "abusive." Hamilton becomes the victim here.

People will do everything to protect the fundy Powers that Be.

[bellafarallones2]

Christmas OT4 (ish) for @thiswasinevitableid. I can hardly believe it's been another year of talking about Amnesty characters with you, but it's been a great one.

Normally Duck was worried whenever his cat got near the tree, because it was usually just a matter of time before she started knocking off ornaments. But tonight it wasn’t the ornaments she was interested in. Now she was just sitting next to the tree, staring out the sliding-glass door onto the balcony.

Duck always put his Christmas tree up in the corner of the living room next to his apartment’s small balcony, which had a string of white lights wrapped around the railing. He had the lights on the tree set on a timer, too, so when he came home after dark he could see them greeting him from inside his dark apartment. 

“What’re you looking at, huh?” Duck bent down to scratch behind Annie’s ears and then looked out himself. He couldn’t see much. There was the yellow glow of the streetlight in the parking lot, but the big tree that provided good views of birds and squirrels during the summer was pitch black. 

Except for a pair of glowing red lights. 

Duck blinked. 

The lights blinked back. 

Duck took a step forward, and the lights disappeared. The place where they’d been was indistinct darkness. 

“Well, fuck.” 

Annie made an annoyed-sounding mrow.

–

The next day at work Duck was preoccupied thinking about the red lights in the tree. The eyes in the tree, he would think, if he didn’t know that was ridiculous. 

He was manning the desk in the visitor’s center, where he basically made sure nobody tried to steal any of the displays, answered questions about maps, and occasionally sold someone something from the very small gift shop. 

Could the lights have been the tail lights of a car, reflected somehow? Yes. That must be it. 

“Duck?”

Duck blinked to attention and took in the man standing in front of him, pink-cheeked from the cold. 

“Is that what you’re still going by?”

“Yeah! Fuck yeah!” Duck stood up, excited, and then immediately looked around to see if there were any children in the vicinity or old people that he’d just scandalized. Joseph Stern laughed, looking handsome as he ever had in a black coat and steel-blue scarf. 

“Holy shit, Joe, what are you doing here?”

“You’ll laugh.” 

“...What is it, your honeymoon?” That was the most ironic thing Duck could think of, given their history. They’d been best friends in high school, sleepovers almost every week, through the rough times while they both discovered boys and then that they were boys, but drifted apart while Joseph had been studying for the SAT and Duck had been smoking weed in the woods. And then Joseph had come home from college for the summer, and they’d reconnected, and even though Joseph had always known and said as much that he was going to get out of this shitty little town, he hadn’t been too proud to admit that he’d always had a crush on Duck. They’d spent every moment they could of that summer together.

“No,” said Joseph instantly, and Duck caught his gaze going down to Duck’s left hand to check for a ring. There was none. “I’m single, actually. And I’m here looking for bigfoot.” He said that last part in a low voice.

“No shit.”

Joseph nodded. “There have been some credible reports recently from this area.”

“Really? I haven’t heard any.”

“I heard about them at work. None of my colleagues took them seriously, of course, but hey, I’m on vacation.” 

“Hey, good for you.” 

Joseph shrugged. “I’d rather have two weeks off for Rosh Hashanah than Christmas, but hey, I’ll take whatever break I get.”

“Sure thing.” Duck remembered what he’d been thinking about before Joseph appeared. “Hey, I don’t know if it was bigfoot, but I did see something weird last night.” 

Joseph leaned forward, and Duck explained the whole story. 

“Woah,” said Joseph. “And this was last night? At your apartment? Can I come over tonight and see?”

“My shift ain’t over until six, but after that, sure! I’d been planning to stop at Wendy’s for dinner on the way home, if you wanna join.”

Joseph’s eyes were sparkling. “You know you don’t have to tell me about a cryptid to get me to have dinner with you. I’ll see you at six.”

–

Winter was, generally speaking, Indrid’s least favorite time of year, but Christmas did have its merits. The eggnog, for one. The colored lights, blinking in the darkness. And over the years he’d learned a few ways to make the cold more bearable. 

That was why he’d shown up for dinner at Amnesty Lodge tonight, despite how awkward it was for everyone involved. The younger sylphs mostly didn’t know who he was except to know they should be polite to him, and Mama always seemed vaguely suspicious of him. 

Only Barclay seemed happy to see him. Barclay gave him a hug when he arrived and didn’t care that he was stiff and half-frozen underneath his frayed sweater. And after dinner Indrid took up a place in the kitchen, drying each dish as Barclay washed them. (It was an interesting exercise for his future vision, working out where each piece belonged.)

When the last dish was dry, as were Barclay’s dishwater-reddened hands, Barclay turned to face him and smiled. “Would you like to come to bed, little moth?” 

“Yes please,” said Indrid. 

Of all the ways to make the cold more bearable, Barclay was perhaps the most pleasant of all. 

Barclay hung up his apron and Indrid followed him down the hall. They could hear raised voices from the lobby at their back. “Goodnight, everyone!” Barclay called, and a chorus called goodnight back. 

Barclay’s room was small, which was nice because it was very warm. The overstuffed bookshelf made it seem both smaller and warmer. There was a quilt on the bed and a crocheted afghan folded at the foot. 

“Tell me what you want,” said Barclay, locking the door behind them. 

“Oh, it’s not so much what I want, as… I think we can come to a mutually agreeable arrangement.”

Barclay’s eyebrow quirked. “I think so, too.”

“I’d like you to take your disguise off, if that’s alright.”

“Are you going to take yours off?” Barclay unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. It was rather tight, and his undisguised form would have popped at least one button. Then he took off his pants, too. Indrid hadn’t really appreciated human bodies before he’d seen Barclay’s. Barclay had been how he dipped a toe in, so to speak, to being attracted to humans. 

“I don’t think I’d fit in your bed - I’d like to be in your bed. I don’t think I said that already.”

“I did ask if you’d like to come to bed, and you said yes, so I figured.” Barclay took off his bracelet and set it down on the bedside table. Instantly he grew half a foot and also a full coat of fluffy auburn fur. “C’mere. Bed time.”

“Bed time,” Indrid agreed, and joined Barclay underneath the covers, burrowing up against Barclay’s fluffy chest. Silvain, Barclay was warm. So warm that… Indrid sat up, pulled off his sweater, and then lay back down. Now, in just a tank top, he could feel Barclay’s fur against his bare arms and neck and face. He had to turn his head to the side to talk. “How would you feel about this encounter becoming sexual?” 

“I’m down. We’ll have to keep quiet.”

“You’ll have to keep quiet. My mouth will be otherwise occupied.” Holding his glasses to his face with one hand, Indrid shimmied his way down the bed until his head was between Barclay’s thighs, which was, if such a thing was possible, an even warmer and better place to be than in Barclay’s arms. 

Interspecies relationships were frowned on in Silvain, especially between sylphs as different as Indrid and Barclay were. Even though on Earth the rules were much looser (and even though now such relationships were becoming more accepted in Silvain, as the population decreased and the number of members of each species shrunk), for Indrid, no matter how many times he and Barclay did this, there was always a slight thrill from the taboo of going to bed with someone warm-blooded. 

He kissed each of Barclay’s thighs, mentally thanking them for being so warm and strong and nice to touch, and then kissed the head of Barclay’s cock. He held the shaft in one hand, the testicles in the other. Not rubbing or squeezing, just holding. Even soft it was a formidable thing, thick and uncut. (Indrid had been rather alarmed the first time he’d encountered a circumcised penis among humans.) 

“Fuuuuck, Indrid,” said Barclay. “I’ll - I’ll do you after, I promise.”

Indrid could feel Barclay getting hard. “You do such a good job taking care of people,” said Indrid quietly. “Just let me take care of you.” 

Indrid took the head back into his mouth, using his soft human tongue to caress the tiny opening at the tip. The foreskin slid back easily in his hand, exposing more sensitive flesh to tongue at. The sensitive spot just below the head. Visions of Barclay coming were already flooding his mind, and he salivated in anticipation. But they weren't there yet. 

Indrid pulled off enough to take a few deep breaths, a strand of spit connecting his mouth to Barclay. He stroked the shaft soothingly, gently, both because it was what he needed and what Barclay would like. 

“Indrid, Indrid,” Barclay almost-sobbed, hands gripping the bedspread. 

“You can hold my hair,” said Indrid before diving back down. The head of Barclay’s cock, fully hard now, reached his throat easily. Barclay’s claws felt divine against his scalp, fingers tangling in the silver strands of Indrid’s hair. Indrid’s eyes were half-lidded in the pleasure of the moment. Barclay’s hips were twitching with the effort of not fucking Indrid’s throat. 

As far as Indrid was concerned, this was the true meaning of Christmas, the lights in the darkness, something star-bright glowing now in his chest and belly. 

Barclay came so deep in Indrid’s throat he couldn’t even taste it. Then, clumsily, Barclay tugged him back up the bed. 

“Mmm, I didn’t think I’d be getting two desserts,” said Indrid. 

“Indrid,” said Barclay, and kissed him. 

Indrid often forgot about kissing, since it didn’t work so well with his natural mouth, but this mouth was very good for it, or maybe just Barclay was very good at it. 

Either way. He kissed back joyfully, and his own human cock made its presence known against Barclay’s hand. 

He’d only really given himself a cock to begin with out of a sense of completionism, only later discovering the pleasure it could bring him. An eager little beast, it was, whenever Indrid remembered its existence, demanding warmth and friction and release. 

“I don’t want a blowjob,” said Indrid. “Because I don’t want you to stop hugging me.”

“Mmm, alright, if you insist,” said Barclay, and pressed a wet kiss to Indrid’s neck that made him squirm happily. One strong arm was wrapped around Indrid’s back, keeping him close, while the other fumbled with Indrid’s jeans. “Sensitive little thing.”

“I’m not,” Indrid insisted, even as he could feel his orgasm about to crash over him. “I just, I just get ahead of myself.” 

“I’ll say. Are you even going to let me get your pants off or are you going to make a mess of yourself?”

“The odds aren’t good,” Indrid managed to say. In the end he made it halfway. 

–

The eyes weren’t there when Joseph and Duck got back to Duck’s apartment, though Annie, Duck’s magnificent gray Maine coon, was sitting on her cat tree looking at the window like she was on patrol for them. 

“Shit,” says Duck. “I’m sorry.”

“Most people only see a cryptid once,” Joseph pointed out. “Actually most people never see a cryptid at all, but of those who do most only see one once.” 

“The thing is that Annie’s been looking out that window every night for a week, so I figure it’s been out there, even before I saw it. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I would happily have come here just to see you.” Also, Joseph believed Duck more than he would have believed most other people. 

And it was that, combined with his innate sense of curiosity, that made him take a detour to the living room when he got up from Duck’s bed in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom.

Annie was sitting there next to the tree, staring out the window, tail swishing across the floor. Joseph stood next to her and looked into the darkness. 

A pair of red eyes looked back. 

“Holy shit,” said Joseph quietly. He fumbled with the white plastic latch to the door to the balcony, strategically using his leg to keep Annie inside, and stepped outside, shutting the door behind him. The air was freezing but he could hardly feel it. The eyes were still there. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could make out a hulking shape perched on a thick branch near the trunk of the tree growing near the balcony. 

“Holy shit,” Joseph said again, leaning out over the railing to get as close as he could, straining for any detail his eyes could make out. 

Huge wings spread soundlessly. Joseph stumbled backwards on instinct as the creature took flight, two wingbeats carrying it effortlessly towards the balcony. It alit on the railing, looking even taller than it was. 

“Hello, Joseph Stern,” the mothman said. 

“Hello,” Joseph whispered, unable to tear his eyes away. “I have so many-” 

“Questions for you. Yes. I’m here because I like looking at the lights.” One clawed hand gestured to the white lights on the railing and the colored ones on the tree inside. 

“What?”

“You were going to ask me what I’m doing here. I like to sit in the tree to look at the lights.”

“Incredible! You can-”

“See the future. Yes, but futures, plural, would be more accurate. There are many.”

The door slid open again. Duck was standing there, carrying Annie in his arms. “Joe? What are you doing out - oh.”

“Hello, Duck Newton,” said the mothman. 

“He can see the future!” said Joseph to Duck. 

“Can we have this conversation inside?” said Duck. 

The mothman nodded. Duck stepped back inside, and Joseph followed, and the mothman closed the door carefully behind all three of them. 

“Have you really been here every day this week?” said Duck. He let Annie down to the floor, and she cautiously went up to the mothman, who offered one of his four hands for her to sniff.

“Yes,” said the mothman. “I like to look at your lights. Is that alright? I assumed you wouldn’t put them so near the window if you didn’t want them to be looked at.” 

“No, no, that’s fine,” said Duck.

“Mr. Mothman, it’s an honor really, I’m in Kepler looking for bigfoot, I never thought I’d see you -”

“I know him,” the mothman interrupted. “Bigfoot.”

“...Can you introduce me?”

The mothman was quiet. Then he opened his mouth, and looked over at Duck. 

Duck had been studying him closely the whole time. “Do you look like this all the time?” said Duck finally.

“Ah,” said the mothman. “No. I can disguise myself as a human.” 

“I don’t suppose you happen to go by the name Indrid Cold?”

“That is the name my parents gave me,” the mothman - Indrid - said indignantly. “I go by it because it is my name.” He seemed to deflate a little. “I… there were very few futures where you recognized me.”

“Really? You’re quite memorable”

“Wait,” said Joseph. “You two know each other?”

“I have visited the national forest and spoken with Duck in his capacity as a park ranger,” said Indrid. 

“That’s all it’s been?” Duck teased.

“No,” said Indrid, tapping his claws together. “I… I like you. But I thought I shouldn’t say so in front of your lover.”

Duck and Joseph exchanged a glance. “We ain’t exclusive,” said Duck. “I mean, I hadn’t seen Joe for years before tonight.” 

“Can I see your human disguise?” asked Joseph. 

“Yes, one moment,” said Indrid. He went out again and flapped into the tree, and then for a moment he disappeared and Joseph was afraid he’d never see him again. But then Indrid appeared again, holding a pair of sunglasses with round red lenses. 

“The fuckin’ glasses,” said Duck softly. “I’d wondered why he never took ‘em off.”

Indrid closed the balcony door behind him. The instant the bridge of the glasses connected with his nose, he wasn’t there anymore. Instead there was a tall, slim man in jeans and a thick sweater patterned with little reindeer. 

Indrid did jazz hands. “Ta-da!” 

“It really is you,” said Duck. 

“It’s me,” Indrid agreed. “I, ah, as I’m sure you can imagine, I don’t normally show myself to people.” As a human it was much easier to read his body language, see how he curled into himself. “But tonight I wanted to be seen.” 

“We see you,” said Joseph.

“You want a hug?” Duck opened his arms and Indrid folded himself into them. And then Indrid reached out a hand to Joseph, and the three of them were hugging. 

Despite himself, despite this being quite possibly the most exciting moment of his life so far, Joseph yawned. 

“We should really be gettin’ back to bed,” said Duck. 

“Yes, yes, of course, I’ll be on my way-” Indrid said, and pulled away until Duck’s grip on his hand stopped him. Indrid looked up, surprised. 

“Or you could join us? For sleeping? I got a nice big bed.”

“He does,” said Joseph.

“Truly?” said Indrid. “Duck, I, I’ve been trying to court you. Like a human would. I’m just not very good at it. And if I’d known you, Joseph, I would have tried to court you too, but I didn’t until tonight.”

“Then let us court you by taking you to bed.” 

Indrid allowed Duck to lead him by the hand to the bedroom. 

–

Cuddling twice in one night was an unheard-of-luxury for Indrid, let alone with three different people. Though he never mistook dreams for reality, he was still a little surprised when he woke up the next morning in Duck Newton’s bed, with the smell of coffee in his nostrils and Joseph still in bed beside him. 

“Good morning,” Indrid said softly.

“Good morning,” said Joseph. 

Indrid could tell that Joseph was looking at his lips. And there were futures of Joseph kissing him. 

Luckily Indrid had had recent practice with kissing. “If you’d like to kiss me, you should.” 

Joseph leaned forward and kissed him. 

“Does my true form excite you or do you just find my disguise handsome?” said Indrid. 

Joseph blushed slightly but didn’t get a chance to answer before Duck appeared in the doorway. “I’m about to make eggs for myself,” said Duck. “If you want me to make some for you too, now is the chance.” 

“Yes, please,” said Joseph, and all but leapt out of bed. Indrid followed them back to the kitchen. 

“Coffee’s in the pot and mugs in that cabinet over there,” said Duck as he cracked eggs into a bowl. 

“Thank you,” murmured Joseph, and poured himself a mug of coffee. Then he turned back to Indrid, who’d used his future vision to take the seat at the kitchen table least likely to be occupied by either Duck or Joseph. “Can you really introduce me to bigfoot?” 

“Yes, I can ask if he’d like to meet you - oh. Ah. It seems you already know him.”

“What? Oh, of course, he can disguise himself, too… who do I know who’s secretly bigfoot?” Joseph turned to Duck. 

“Don’t look at me,” said Duck. “If I was bigfoot you’d know about it by now.” 

Joseph looked back to Indrid. “I promise my motives for wanting to meet bigfoot are normal.”

“Normal?” said Indrid. 

“I don’t want to hurt him. Or you. I don’t need to take pictures. And it isn’t a sex thing.”

“Oh?”

“I just… I want to satisfy my personal curiosity.”

Duck hid his smile behind his mug of coffee. 

“If bigfoot wanted to have sex with me I wouldn’t say no!” 

“I’ll ask,” said Indrid.

[uhlatcha]

A PLACE CALLED YOU - CHAPTER THREE

WATTPAD | AO3 | PLAYLIST | A PLACE CALLED YOU MASTERLIST FANDOMS: ATEEZ, STRAY KIDS PAIRING: JYH x OC WORDS: 2508 GENRE: FANFIC, ROMCOM, NON IDOL AU, COLLEGE AU NOTES: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, ANY FEEDBACKS ARE WELCOME.

CHAPTER THREE

"We're here" Hongjoong announced as the small group reached the top of the huge flight of stairs leading up to Hongjoong's friend's apartment "It's the apartment on the left, the roof is shared with the other apartment" he explained, pointing to the other door.

The apartment was on the top floor of the building right on the roof, which was very big and spacious. And it was completely dirty and dusty.

Seonghwa walked around, scowling at the slovenly state of the underused space.

"This place needs a good cleaning" the boy commented "How can anyone live in this dirt?"

"Let's go inside" Joong called, already unlocking the big glass door. "Yunho has class now and can't come, but you can feel free to look around."

"If it's like that out here, imagine it in there" Seonghwa commented.

The living room was well lit thanks to the glass door. Tati walked to the door and entered the apartment, following Joong, who was already inside, opening the living room curtains and the window.

The living room was quite large, but relatively empty, there was only a sofa, a dark wood coffee table and a small shelf with video game consoles and the biggest TV Tati had ever seen in her life, other than that there were no decor items. or nothing of the sort.

"What did you say he studies anyway?" Tati wanted to know.

"Arts" Joong replied.

"The guy studies art and doesn't have any decorations at home? That's weird to say the least" Seonghwa commented "At least it's cleaner in here"

"This is the bathroom" Joong said, pointing to a door to the right of the room. On the opposite side was the kitchen, which was separated from the living room only by a counter. "And there the bedrooms, yours is the one on the left" Joong explained, pointing to two doors near the kitchen.

Tati walked towards the door that Hongjoong indicated and opened it. The room was of a reasonable size and there was already a closet, bed, a desk and some shelves. All the furniture was white, as were the floors and walls.

"Yunho said you can use the furniture, I figured with the flooding thing you must have lost some stuff." Joong said, standing at the door as the girl surveyed the room.

Tati walked around the apartment one more time, checking the bathroom, which turned out to be the cleanest room, which surprised her.

"So what do you think?" Joong wanted to know.

"It's by far the best apartment I visited during my search" She admitted "It's in a good location, the roof is amazing and the bedroom furniture is a great addition. Of course, it needs a cleaning, but considering everything else and the rental price... It's perfect."

"But" Seonghwa said, as if he could read the girl's mind.

"But I don't even know Yunho" she added "How can I share an apartment with someone I haven't even seen in my life?"

"He can't be here today, but I guarantee he's a good person. I would never put you in a bad situation" Joong assured.

Tati turned to Seonghwa and he didn't need her to say anything to understand that yes, she had already made up her mind.

"You loved it, didn't you?" the boy asked. Tati approached him, holding his hands, nodding excitedly. Seonghwa sighed, not too excited about the idea.

***

After visiting the apartment, Tati decided it was time to finally call Chris and tell him what had happened. She decided to go straight to the hotel, leaving Seonghwa and Hongjoong alone.

"You didn't like the gift?" Hongjoong asked as the two walked through the city center. Hongjoong was going to take pictures at the Chinese restaurant near the gym, and Seonghwa was coming back to rehearse more in the afternoon.

"What?" Hwa asked "Of course I liked it. It's...perfect" he smiled as he put his hands in his coat pockets, holding the small box inside his left pocket.

"I was going to bring you something more discreet" Hongjoong said "But when I saw the ring... I knew it was this. Sorry if it's too much..."

"No, it's perfect, really" Seonghwa assured, stopping on the way and holding hands with Hongjoong, who smiled, satisfied "Thank you"

The two continued walking together in comfortable silence. Seonghwa was really happy with the gift. The ring was perfect, and it didn't go unnoticed that Hongjoong wore one just like it. The gift meant something, and Seonghwa would wear it with pride.

The two turned the corner that led to the bakery street, and came face to face with a huge line.

"What happened here?" Seonghwa asked, looking wide-eyed at Hongjoong.

"Let's find out," he said, walking toward New at the store's door.

"Hey New, what happened?" Joong asked.

"Apparently our cake went viral thanks to someone famous who came here and talked about it on the internet." New explained. "I've never seen this place so full."

"Lia must be freaking out in there." Seonghwa commented.

"It's crazy, May is in my place while I stay here." New said.

"I wish I could help, but I have a session now." Joong explained.

"I had to rehearse, but I can do that later." Seonghwa said.

"Come in," New said, opening the door.

"See you later" Joong said to Hwa "Bye New."

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It was difficult for May to get into the bakery that afternoon. The place was packed and there was a line outside where the outside tables that had been removed used to be. She was only able to get in because the clerk at the door controlling access knew her and knew that she was Lia's friend.

She walked in, dodging the customers waiting for her orders near the counter. She spotted Lia filling a paper bag with cookies.

"Hey what happened, why is it so crowded today? Is it a special date?" May asked.

"Apparently from what Lucy said, some influencer came here and talked about our tres leches and now we're fully booked."

"That's crazy, but it's pretty cool actually," May commented.

"You say that because you're on this side of the counter, it's crazy in the kitchen. I've never made as much cake in my life as today" Lia said "I was making the cakes, but things got out of hand so New had to go there in front to take care of the entrance, and I came here. I tried to call Tati, but it just goes to voicemail."

"Need help?" May offered.

Lia stopped for a moment, looked around, then looked at the window and the line outside. Of all her friends, May was the only one who had never worked in the bakery.

"You know the menu well, do you think you can stay here and serve? In the meantime I'll go back and help in the kitchen" Lia said and May nodded, passing behind the counter. "Go back there and tie your hair, wash your hands and get an apron and then we'll change."

May did as her friend asked and soon she was back, Lia hugged her and thanked her for the help, and then hurried to the kitchen, she had a lot of work to do.

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"I can't believe we've been waiting in line for almost an hour for a piece of cake," Jongho said, taking his cell phone out of his pocket.

"From what I've seen, it's not just any cake," Yeosang said, looking at the reviews on the bakery's website.

"Don't they do deliveries?" Jongo asked impatiently.

"From what I've seen, yes, but only with orders." Yeosang explained.

"So why are we here waiting in line when we could order and eat at home?" Jongho asked indignantly.

"Because their order book is closed for at least up to three months" Yeosang explained "And I need this cake today."

"Honestly, after a long day at work the only thing I need is my bed" Jongho commented.

Yeosang understood his friend's attitude, he was also tired and wanted to go home, but everyone seemed to be talking about that bakery, and if there was one thing that Yeosang always enjoyed, it was the chance to try good food, even if he had to wait in line. for that.

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"Hi daddy." Tati said, thinning her voice, as soon as Chris answered the video call, immediately rolling her eyes at her sister's bad joke.

"You need to stop this," he said, pretending to be angrier than he really was.

"Is this how you treat me after not hearing from me for so long?

I almost regret calling."

"Oh great you brought it up" he said "May I know why you were ignoring my messages and calls? I was starting to think you had been kidnapped. But I think if that was the case the kidnappers would have returned you by now, you are pretty annoying."

"It's my greatest gift," she said.

"Seriously" Chan said, changing his tone "What happened?"

"I had to tell you something, but I didn't want to worry you, so I avoided you until everything was settled," she admitted.

Chris took a deep breath, ready to start a lecture, but Tati interrupted him.

"I know, no matter what, I can always talk to you. But I didn't know how to reach you and say, 'Hey, my apartment collapsed after a leak and I'm homeless,' so I'm sorry."

"Wait...WHAT?!" he exclaimed. "Like this?"

"The old plumbing broke and there was a leak that caused it to collapse because of the humidity. But I wasn't home so I didn't get hurt or anything, but the apartment is gone."

"I told you you could do better than that mob" Chris said "But my God, Tatiana. How your apartment collapses and you don't even deign to tell me? Do you need money? Do you have a place to stay?"

"I have the insurance money. For the first few weeks I stayed with Lia, now I'm in a hotel, but I've already got a place to stay for the long term, I'm moving on Saturday. I took care of everything, I can manage on my own."

"That's not the point, Tati. I'm your big brother, you should tell me these things. You don't have to fend for yourself all the time."

She lowered her head. She really wanted to believe her brother's words, but it was hard, when she'd spent her entire life being told by her parents that she was incapable of fending for herself. Something she spent her whole life trying to prove otherwise.

All her life she got used to doing everything by herself, because Chris was always independent, she left home very early to do what she dreamed of; the younger sister had the privileges of the youngest, as the middle child, Tati had a hard time fitting in. She always tried to be the perfect daughter, and thanks to her anxiety, she had to work harder than others to get what she wanted, and even if she did, she often ended up falling behind.

"You can always count on me, even if I'm not there physically. It's always been that way, and it always will be."

That was true. Even though he was far away, Christopher was always her anchor. The two had been on the phone every Sunday since he'd left, eventually making video calls and spending the entire week texting. Whenever Tati needed to talk to someone, he was there, even if not physically. And when she moved, he was the one who helped her settle in the city.

"I know" she said "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I really didn't want to worry you. You were traveling and I knew if I told you I'd want to run back here."

"Fine," he said, "But I think it's good for me to know the next time your house collapses."

"I honestly hope it doesn't happen again in the near future," she admitted.

"I assume our parents weren't informed about what happened either" Chris commented and she nodded "Are you going to tell them about the move?"

"I don't see why" she said, shrugging her shoulders, Chris didn't say anything.

"I'll send the boys to help you with the move," he commented.

"No need, it's Saturday, they must have plans" she said.

"They adore you, they won't mind." Chris assured her "I have to go now," she said, looking at her watch. "But I'll call you Saturday to see how the move went, and you can call me first if you need anything."

"Alright" she said "We'll talk"

As soon as Chan hung up, Tati felt relieved that she had finally told him what had happened. It felt good to be able to take that weight off her back.

When she ended the call, she finally saw Lia's missed calls and messages and ran to the bakery.

***

San spent most of the afternoon wondering if he should call May. She'd been acting strange since the night the two of them had rehearsed alone and he'd ended up talking more than he should have.

He had talked to Wooyoung about what happened, the two didn't hide anything from each other. Woo looked annoyed at first but soon returned to normal. They both liked her a lot, thanks to all the time they'd been spending together. The two missed their friend and just wanted to resolve the whole situation.

So in the late afternoon, after having his texts and calls ignored, San decided to try his luck and go to the bakery where May used to go. What he and Wooyoung didn't expect was to find a huge line leading out of the store and around the corner.

"Hey Woo" he heard as he walked up the street, then turned around to find Yeosang and Jongho standing in line, waving at him. The boy went towards his friend, very excited, and hugged him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"We're waiting in line for cake, I've tried to make Yeosang give up, but he refuses." Jongho explained "I think the wait is worth it, or I'll kill him."

"Oh believe me, everything Lia does is amazing" Wooyoung began

"Wait" Yeosang said "Do you know the owner of the bakery? Have you ever eaten here? Why haven't you mentioned the place before?"

"I actually know the owner's daughter, but she makes most of the cakes."

"Can you get us inside?" Jongho asked hopefully. They were already very close to the door.

Woo looked at the boy at the door, who was already familiar from the two of them frequenting the bakery in the last few months. San wondered if the boy would recognize them too when May walked out of the store. She wore a pink apron and hair cap and looked slightly nervous talking to the boy.

"Excuse me" she said, raising her voice and waving to people in line "I'm sorry, but the cake and the material we used to prepare it is over."

The information was followed by complaints and some boos.

"We still have other flavors of cake and other types of candy," she continued. "And for those who wish, we're going to give out some free cookies for the unexpected inconvenience, just wait where you are for a few more minutes."

Jongho took a deep breath in disappointment, Yeosang made a face so sad that he looked like he was about to cry. A few people walked out of line complaining, but most stayed where they were, waiting for the free cookies.

[survivingbjupodcast]

Shelly Hamilton's FB Post - "Victor, Not Victim

"

Victor, not Victim

I’ve heard far too many stories of young people criticizing their Christian homes, schools, and churches on public social media platforms. Some go after these institutions with a venom Satan himself would be proud to claim.

It appears to be a popular trend. Once one person starts the rampage of blaming anything and everything God put in their path, then another gets on board. One person equals two, equals four, equals eight, and so forth. Exponentially, the problem explodes.

Something a lone wolf denounces, spreads like a plague, and starts festering in hearts and minds. The ugly virus calls out to young people everywhere, “Get on board. It’s the thing. You can blame your upbringing for all your problems. There’s comfort in being part of the herd.”

Are homes, churches, or schools perfect? I don’t know of any. Do Christians make mistakes? Yes, all the time. But young people, please don’t let your parent’s, teacher’s and/or pastor’s mistakes condone yours.

I want to tell you the back story of someone who works at Majesty Music. This woman is lovely, vivacious, upbeat, fun-loving, God-serving, and sweet. She has a few of what could be considered “legitimate” circumstances that could make anyone become bitter.

Number one, she was adopted. Number two, her dad was a pastor but had to step down not because of his own doing. Number three, she and her brother were raised most of their growing up years by their dad. Her brother then became a leukemia survivor.

I must admit, although I’ve known her for the eight years she has worked in customer service at Majesty Music, it was not until yesterday that I learned of some of her upbringing. I was shocked. I would never, by the spirit she displays on a daily basis, have dreamt these “could-be reasons” of a despondent and bitter identity existed.

No, not Andrea Allen. Andrea is a victor, not a victim.

I think of Dr. Ben Carson, whose father left him because he had a previous yet still existing wife and family when he married Ben’s mother. Ben’s mother therefore had to scrape for every penny earned and work multiple jobs to put food on the table and a roof over their head. She became depressed and spent months in a mental facility. But Ben Carson became a victor, not a victim.

A victim walks through sand and sees dirt. A victor walks through sand and sees the ingredients to build a sandcastle.

I strongly encourage anyone to stop and think before you publicly condemn a home, parent, church, or school who tried to love you and point you to Christ. You are responsible for your attitude and actions. You don’t have to lift those up as perfect who gave you food, shelter, training, preaching, and Christian community. But you certainly should not throw them in the dirt.

Earlier I said this post was unloving, but as I've reflected on it, it is loving. It is truth spoken from my heart.

Please be respectful of those who dedicated their lives and substance to rear you and teach you. Forgive the mistakes and don’t make them the cause of your bitterness. Listen to the words of one who overcame:

Andrea – “I started taking piano lessons in K5 and continued through most of my school years. Later I took accordion, marimba, and organ lessons for a short time. I worked as a telephone salesperson in high school and at the information desk in college. Little did I know that God would use all these things to help me many years later in my work at Majesty Music.

I used to play the song ‘Rejoice in the Lord’ over and over on the piano, working through many emotions and feelings. Again, little did I know that I would eventually work for the man who wrote the song. What a gift it is to be a part of this family and ministry.

On the side, I enjoy working in my flower beds, playing hymns on the piano for stress relief, traveling with my husband to the beach and the mountains, cooking and having all my family around my dinner table, loving on my granddaughter, and all things candy corn.”

And, of course, Andrea says, “Have a blessed day on purpose.”

Edit: Some took this post to mean no one should speak of physical, psychological, or sexual abuse. Let me be clear: Abuse should be uncovered, exposed, and dealt with." (Original Source: https://www.facebook.com/100057106674096/posts/pfbid0YVCvjEbQepwJkQQgmtJtBaiHTiszuP8MxqAyA2M5ctpZM81hT3B8Jkf2Vh1UVyGpl/?mibextid=cr9u03)

[torscrawls]

Invisible Sides

This is for Dannymay2022 day 3: College years.

I know it’s probably ment to be about Maddie and Jack’s college years, but I wanted to write about Danny in college, or more specifically; Danny being a cryptid and confusing his roommate Peter Parker. Danny is a little shit and I love him for it.

Also available on my AO3!

-----

Peter Parker's new roommate was awesome. He was almost always away doing god knows what—what was important was that he wasn't doing it in their room—which left Peter with much needed freedom to do his own… thing, which involved late nights and a lot of tight spandex (and a lot of fighting). 

 The only real negative was that Peter worried about the guy's health; Danny Fenton seemed to always have dark circles under his eyes, worryingly often sporting half-hidden injuries, and had a heartbeat that was on the edge of worryingly slow. 

 Not that Peter could bring that up in casual conversation without giving too much away of his own secrets. “Hey dude, I can hear your heartbeat from across the room and just wanna know why it’s so darn slow?” would probably not go over too well.

Peter frowned as he glanced up from his textbook; eyes landing on Danny's back where he sat across the room at his own desk—face smushed into the pages of whatever he was supposed to be studying.

It hadn't even taken him five minutes to fall asleep and Peter was almost impressed.

No, that was a lie. Peter was, in fact, very jealous. He would kill for the ability to fall asleep that fast. It would be so useful to get whatever sleep he could between everything that was going on in his life. Figures that that particular gift would be given to a random university student just to mock him.

But if he was being generous, Peter could admit that if someone needed the rest then it was probably Danny. Peter didn't know how the dude managed to consistently look more tired than him when he himself was running around and getting the shit beat out of him more nights than not.

On the other hand, when Peter got back home after his late nights out on the town the other bed was more often than not empty. So maybe there was a good reason for the impromptu desk-nap. They didn't talk enough for Peter to know what Danny was doing when he was away from their room, but Danny didn't come across like a big player; being quite awkward and not huge on talking to new people. But then again; maybe he just didn't like Peter.

Or maybe he was someone who took partying very seriously. Maybe he was in a gang. That would at least explain some of the injuries.

Not for the first time, Peter wished he had enough money so that he didn't have to split his home with another person but between his studies and the crime fighting he didn't exactly have enough time to get a job.

He sighed and tried to focus back on the book in front of him, but his thoughts kept circling back to the conundrum that was currently snoozing away across the room.

Even if Danny didn't like him, didn't he owe the guy to try? To ask? Wasn't he supposed to be a hero? He couldn't very well call himself that if he didn't even try to help his roommate with whatever was going on.

He had just made up his mind to actually breach the subject with the other and was trying to come up with the least awkward way of going about it as his eyes landed back on where Danny sat slumped over his desk.

And that was when he realized the other person in the room wasn't breathing.

"Fuck."

Peter launched himself across the room, one hand going directly for the juncture between his roommate’s jaw and throat to try and feel for that impossibly slow pulse as his mind raced a mile a minute. How long had it been since he stopped breathing? How hadn’t he noticed it earlier? Should he call an ambulance?!

But as soon as Peter made contact with Danny's cold skin the other sat up with a gasp, not wasting any time before twisting impossibly in his chair and aiming a punch right at Peter’s head. Peter gave a small shout of surprise and scrambled back himself, narrowly avoiding the fist as it went by close enough that he could feel the displaced air on his face. If he didn’t have his heightened reflexes he didn’t doubt that it would have knocked him out cold.

That wasn’t the punch thrown by a person who didn’t know what they were doing, and especially not someone who hadn’t even been breathing mere moments ago.

Danny himself seemed surprised that his fist only met air and he blinked open tired eyes to look up at Peter. After a few tense seconds of them staring at each other in silence, Danny broke it with a frown and a, "What the fuck, Peter? I was sleeping."

Peter kept up his wide-eyed stare as his eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Dude, you weren’t breathing.”

“Oh.” And he didn’t sound particularly alarmed by that as he shrugged. “Yeah, that happens sometimes.”

“It happens?!” Peter gaped, gesturing wide with his arms. “What do you mean ‘it happens’?!”

"What does it matter?" Danny asked with a yawn as he placed his head in his hand, his elbow resting on the table.

What kind of question was that?! "Of course it matters! Are you okay?!"

Peter grabbed Danny's shoulders to shake some sense into him—but his sudden movement was met with wide eyes and with his hands going through Danny's shoulders.

Peter stared at his wrists that were disappearing into Danny's shoulders with wide eyes.

Danny blinked down at where Peter’s hands had failed to land on his shoulders, again not seeming particularly surprised at this turn of events. He then turned his eyes up at Peter and asked, far too casually, “You’re a ghost?”

“What?? No!” Peter exclaimed as he pulled his hands back out of Danny’s shoulders, examining them with wide eyes. “I have no idea what’s going on!” Did he run into someone with magic during his last patrol who cast a spell on him and he hadn’t noticed? But he couldn’t very well mention that possibility to Danny. Speaking of his roommate, though, Peter started rooting in his pockets for his phone. “I—I need to call an ambulance! You weren’t breathing!”

“Yeah, no, I’m joking,” Danny said as he deftly plucked the phone from Peter’s clumsy hands before he managed to call 911. “I’m the ghost.”

Peter blinked at him. “…You’re what?”

“A ghost,” Danny repeated and he said it as if it wasn’t a big deal. He then paused and shrugged before tacking on, “My friends have been bugging me to spill, so I guess I can tell you the whole thing. I’m Phantom, you know, the ghost?”

Peter’s thoughts screeched to a halt; mentally trying to connect his perpetually tired and awkward roommate with the charismatic and very strong ghostly hero he had met a couple of times during his nightly crime fighting.

He opened his mouth to respond, found that he had absolutely no idea what to say and closed it again, opened it, closed it, opened, closed. At long last, and much to Danny’s amusement if his expression was anything to go by, Peter landed on a slightly strangled, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Well,” Danny said as he got a playful glint in his eye, “I know that you can keep someone’s identity a secret.”

And Peter’s voice was definitely strangled as he said, “Why would you say that?”

“I’m a ghost, remember? I can go invisible. Which means I miiiight have been in here when you didn’t know it a couple of times and dude let me tell you, I’m not jealous of having to do that costume change.”

“Oh,” Peter breathed out as he desperately tried to rearrange his entire worldview. “Oh, no.”

“It’s cool,” Danny waved him off, still far too casual. “I won’t say anything.”

And what was Peter supposed to say to all this? He sat down heavily on his bed with a faint, “Sure. Alright.”

Danny nodded as if this was all a normal conversation to have. “You know, it’s nice to talk during calmer circumstances than last week’s shootout.” He then reached out a hand towards where Peter was sitting with a grin that showed off canines that were more fangs than anything else—and how had Peter missed that. “It’s nice to meet you, even if it is the third time we do this. My name is Danny Fenton-Phantom.”

As he stared at Danny and his mischievous smile, Peter took it all back; being roommates with Danny Fenton was the worst.

[iced-nct]

Anti-Romantic

*Pairing* Class President(?)Renjun x Reader

*Word Count* 1.7k

*Warnings* some language, enemies (?) to lovers au, Renjun being a meanie sometimes. Mostly fluff

*Synopsis* He was a serial anti-romantic. Rejecting any girl who showed an interest in him. That's why you avoided him. At least that's what you convinced yourself to believe.

There was a core memory you had of Class President Huang Renjun, and it was not a pretty one. But as he sat across the lab table from you dividing the project between you, it was all you could think of.

-

It was your sophomore year of college and your older brother had dropped you at school a little later than usual. However, those fifteen minutes made all the difference as you witnessed a gaggle of freshman girls help their friend gather up the courage to approach Renjun. As you passed you could clearly hear him rejecting her, in quite a painful way. It seemed odd for him, as whenever you two crossed paths he was always pleasant. Not warm per say, but pleasant. This girl must’ve caught him on a bad day, he all but spit on her confession to him.

“I don’t date.” He deadpanned.

The freshman ran back to her friends who cooed apologies and reassurance at her. One of them turned to Renjun “You don’t have to be such an ass.” She spat. He just shrugged his shoulders as though he gets called worse daily. You just put your head down and power walked past the scene that was beginning to unfold. After that you pretty much aimed to avoid Renjun, hearing whispers from girls who confessed to him that he also passed on. By the time you both were months from graduating college it was well known that the most desirable bachelor in the school would remain just that. A bachelor. That still didn’t deter stubborn admirers from leaving notes and gifts at his car or on his desk.

Which leads you to where you are now. In honors Biology with Renjun as your lab partner, you were assigned to him late in the semester as you had to make some schedule changes and he was the only one without a partner. So here you sit, across from someone who you hadn’t spoken to since the first few weeks of sophomore year. A small box of caramels sat on the desk between you, a reminder of the fact that Renjun is a serial anti-romantic.

“You can have them if you want” he says to you when he notices your eyes locked onto the satin box.

“Oh, no that’s okay. I was just wondering who would have left them” you thumb the tag, revealing a note asking Renjun to the graduates gala.

He grabs the box from your touch and tosses it in the trashcan behind him. Your teeth grit slightly, pitying whoever was brave enough to confess to the president.

“Like I was saying. We must put all this together by Friday, and I’m busy with student council every night except tomorrow. So, you can just come over to mine after we finish classes tomorrow.” Renjun goes on whilst flipping through his bio notes.

Your eyes just about fall out of your head at his statement and the flat tone it was delivered with. Renjun just invited you over to his house. Scratch that. Insisted you go over. For the project, obviously. But it didn’t help to slow down your heartrate, or the thoughts swirling through your head.

“Did you hear what I said?” His voice pulling you from your thoughts, you shook your head in response. “I said since you don’t drive, I can meet you at the parking lot and take you. I’ll drop you at home after as well.” The way he says these things is so smooth that you almost forget who’s talking to you.

“But what will your fans think?” You mutter to yourself just a little too loudly.

“My fans? Hm. I don’t really care” He finally looked up from his textbook at you, his eyes resting on yours with intent. You just nodded along, hoping that maybe you’ll catch a cold tonight and can’t come to school tomorrow.

-

There was no miracle cold that kept you from school on that cloudy Wednesday, and the school day seemed to have breezed past. After grabbing your biology books and coat you headed out to the parking lot to find Renjun. He was never hard to spot, wherever he went his admirers followed. Your heart sunk when you saw him standing by his black Audi, surrounded by girls. As soon as he saw you, he opened the passenger door for you to get in. You did so with haste, not wanting to listen to the defeated cries outside the door. Renjun climbed in the drivers’ seat and took off before you had time to fasten your seatbelt.

“Sorry about them. I’ve never driven another girl home.” He says, without ever taking his eyes off the road.

Shrugging seemed to be the only viable option. All you could think of is what would happen at school tomorrow. Hoping that you wouldn’t be chased around campus by a pack of angry women. Renjun seemed to live close to the school, in a brand-new high-rise building. What really amazed you was that he lived here alone, the rent had to be triple what you paid.

“You can leave your stuff in the closet. I’ll make tea.” Renjun padded off into the kitchen, leaving you standing in the entryway.

You hung your coat in the closet and set your bag on the rack above it, only taking your pens and books to the table in the living room. Making yourself comfortable on a cushion on the floor and spreading your information out on half of the coffee table, you waited patiently for Renjun to return. He came into the room with two mugs of tea a few moments later, the scent of peppermint tea filling the air once the mugs were placed on the table. You gave a small smile in thanks.

“Where should we start?” You asked, while starting to thumb through your textbook.

“We could start with why you’ve been avoiding me for two years.” He replied nonchalantly, you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Did you think I didn’t notice? You stopped being friends with Jeno and Jaemin because it meant seeing me” He chuckled a little.

“I meant with the project. Where we should start on the project” You tried to coax the conversation away from where you knew it was going. Trying to steer clear of talking about your former best friends and why you avoided Renjun.

“I knew what you meant. But I’m curious. They tell me it’s because you liked me” He egged you on.

Sighing in defeat you closed your textbook and stared at him. “Yeah. I did.”

“Well, why did you never say anything?” His eyes narrowed and his head cocked to the side.

-

You went back to that morning of sophomore year, furious at your older brother for making you late. The day had been planned around you being on time, texting Jeno and Jaemin to make sure they were aware of your tardiness. The plan was in motion, your friends texting Renjun to meet them by the front doors of the main building on campus. You practically fell out of your brother’s car before he had even fully stopped, not wanting to waste any more time. But when you saw Renjun reject that girl, you couldn’t do it. You didn’t want to be humiliated the way she had been. So instead, you continued walking, texting your friends about what happened and avoiding them for the rest of the day. Which soon turned to weeks of ignoring, and soon it was years.

-

“Because I saw how you rejected that freshman. And heard of every rejection since then. I didn’t want to be one of them” tears falling freely down your cheeks. The memory was harder when you had to stomach all of it like that.

This time it was Renjun’s turn to be taken aback, his eyes wide with shock at what you just confessed to him. In a swift motion he was beside you, his large hands wiping away your tears. With your face in his hands, he forced you to look at him, his eyes softened when they bore into yours.

“Did you ever wonder why I rejected that girl?” His voice soft, as if he was scared that he could break you. You shook your head at his question. “I knew you were coming. Did you really think the guys wouldn’t tell me?” You couldn’t resist rolling your eyes, of course your friends had told him. Of course he knew.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Now it was your turn to interrogate him. His hand dropped from your cheeks to your lap, resting over your own.

“I’ve always been blunt with responses. Especially when I’m nervous” He started. “That morning I remember being so giddy about you coming to meet me. But then those girls showed up before you got there. I couldn’t stop myself. The words came out before I even had a chance to process what was happening, and I know it’s no excuse but if you give me a chance-“ You cut him off by leaning forward and softly pressing your lips to his.

Renjun looks surprised at your decision to kiss him. But he wastes no time kissing you back, cupping your face and deepening the kiss. You both continue like this for a few minutes, until you end up sitting on Renjun’s lap with your head on his shoulder and his hand rubbing your back.

“You cut me off before I could ask. But I was wondering if you had a date for the graduates gala?” he looked down at you with hope filled eyes.

“No one has asked. Why?” You smirk, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Well in that case… (y/n) would you allow me to accompany you to the gala?” Renjun smiled at you.

His smile was contagious, it had spread from him to you and before you knew it you were kissing him again. The excitement bubbling in your stomach at the thought of Renjun being your date to the gala.

“Of course I will” You broke the kiss to answer him.

Your heart fluttered as he pulled you into another kiss. Though your mind couldn’t get over the fact that he wasn’t an anti-romantic, he was just waiting for you.

[wincore]

romeo roulette | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

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

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

words: 21.2k

warnings: language

song recs: playlist here !

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

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

Jung Yoonoh. Get your act together.

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

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

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

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

This whole charade dates its beginning to a week ago. 

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

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

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

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

“And I get what out of this?”

“Me? Temporarily, that is.”

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

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

“Wait!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll ask Doyoung if you say no.”

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

“I really will ask him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

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

“On one condition.”

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

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

“No way.”

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

You stare at him, weighing the odds. 

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

Jaehyun shrugs.

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

You mutter the last part.

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

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

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

“We have an agreement,” he repeats.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You should." You glare at her.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," Sicheng mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Literally what I just said," Soojin says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “Man, I feel bad for him.”

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

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

You gasp. “Is it me? It’s me, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow. “So?”

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

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

“Hey. Professional,” Soojin warns.

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

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

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

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

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

“Shh. What if they hear us?”

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

You huff, crossing your arms. “Still…”

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

“Your acting was shit though,” you snipe.

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you headed to?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, the sweet summer child that Dongmin is.

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

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

“—Around ten minutes left.”

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

“That sounds like a load of—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle. "Alright, handsome."

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

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

“What do you mean, baby?”

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

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

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

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

“You think you’re so—”

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

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

“Don’t say a word, Yoonoh.”

“Ooh, you’re saying my name now.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I find it plenty funny.”

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

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look so smug.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

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

He laughs. “What are we, in college?”

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

“Wrong,” he emphasizes, face leaning closer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun looks down. “Ginseng extract.”

“Oh, the gift pack?” Doyoung asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The two of you look at each other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh? CEO? I’m sorry?” you manage. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Dammit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I charge by the hour.” He smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, yes or no?”

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

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

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

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

“No,” he says with clear emphasis. 

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

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

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

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling through his hand. 

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

He sighs. “Maybe. Have you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

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

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

“Definitely.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

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

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

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

“It’s not officially there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re both the same thing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You saved me,” you say, smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile. “Thanks, Soojin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You clearly liked it,” he mutters. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look at her, puzzled.

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

“Don’t give me that cr—”

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

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

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

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

“Of course it is,” you mutter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There.”

“It’s hot in here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He does?”

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

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

“Hm. Funny coincidence.”

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

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

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

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

“For what? Being perfect and successful?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry!”

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

“Sorry,” he responds quietly. 

There’s a pause.

“Did you just kiss me right now?”

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

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

“What are you implying?” 

“You wanted to kiss me.”

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe it won’t.

"Never heard that before."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, not exac—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life strikes again with its poorly timed irony.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just stick out your tongue at him subtly.

“I told you we’d win,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun pauses before humming in realization.

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

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

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

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

“Too?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think people in love are always brave.”

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

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

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

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

“Sicheng rubbed off on me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "So?"

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

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

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

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

"Everyone needs mints, Jaehyun. Especially men."

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

"Have this mint or else."

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

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

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

"By me, right?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh. You might be right about that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So I’m right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What do lovers do anyway?

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

You don’t mind it one bit.

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

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

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

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

You let out another huff of complaint.

"Does everything have to be heart-shaped?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You faltered for a moment there.”

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

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

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

“Wow, you must be a masochist.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe you enjoy my company?”

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

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

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

“And chill?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

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

You inhale, an idea presenting itself.  

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers suddenly.

“Yes,” you answer.

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

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

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

“It’s pretty,” he whispers.

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

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

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

You exhale.

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

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

“Jaehyun—”

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun pulls apart and you miss the warmth.

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

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

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

“I’m sorry” is all you can say.

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

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

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

Because misery likes company.

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm? Show me?” He blinks at you. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Dongmin.”

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

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

“That’s- That’s my—what is this?”

Russian roulette is certainly not the same without a gun.

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

His initial shock seems to have partly subsided.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Into this loveless hell made for you.

“(name).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dongmin takes a sharp breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come with me,” Dongmin tells you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You point from him to yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh no. You know where this is going.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You need the quiet sometimes to let your mind rest, to let your heart rest. You needed time. But maybe it’s been long enough and now you’re just searching for excuses to hold on to your last shred of dignity.

You lift your head up and glare at the box of ginseng on your table. Should you? You reluctantly get up, feeling a sting of pain in your back for lying in that awkward position for so long. Right when you’ve put on your slippers, the doorbell rings and you groan. How did the package you stress-ordered last night arrive so early? These deliveries are getting faster and faster.

You walk to the front door and open it thoughtlessly, freezing up at the sight. Your first reaction is to cover yourself. You’re not exactly your best-looking version at the moment. Jaehyun’s dark circles almost match yours but he’s better dressed than you are—in a black T-shirt and jeans while you’re wearing a Gudetama pajama set.

“We’re not just friends,” he blurts. “We’re not soulmates but we’re not just friends.”

“Huh? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing I’ve looked.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in a question look. 

“That’s not important! Look—”

He pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. His hair is so disheveled and messy, he barely even looks like the same well-maintained marketing employee you know. 

Jaehyun tugs at his T-shirt, pulling down to reveal his tattoo—albeit with your marker-drawn arrow through it. He does have a pretty well-built chest, you note before chiding yourself for getting distracted.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you, uh, need help scrubbing it off or something?”

“No.” Jaehyun lets out a huff of exasperation. “It won’t wash off. If it’s what I think it is—”

“Miracles don’t happen to people like us, Jaehyun,” you say quietly.

He gulps. “I don’t know about miracles but… I just needed an excuse to see you, I guess.”

You look up, a rose blush over Jaehyun’s bare face, and run your finger over the tattoo, sighing at the warmth of his skin. Your hand travels up to his cheek, resting atop it while you muster enough courage to look Jaehyun in his chocolate brown eyes.

You pull away. This isn’t the time. You still have an internal crisis to sort out. Are you even deserving of love? It makes much more sense if the answer is no. 

However, Jaehyun pulls you in by the waist, his right palm warm against your cheek.

“I don’t care what anyone says.” He runs his thumb over your cheek in a painfully fond manner. “You’re worth more than the price I pay for this.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours swiftly, your head clearing of thoughts almost immediately. It feels so right, you can feel the spark, the red thread around your skin, hear the bells. This kiss was far more perfect than it was supposed to be.

You part, gasping. Jaehyun blinks at you, breathing heavily.

“Kiss me again.”

Jaehyun does as told and you might just believe in miracles this way. With his hand around your waist and in your hair, his lips over yours and the low rumbling laughter that parts the two of you—you might just believe in miracles. You might just believe that love isn't something you deserve by earning.

“I like this,” Jaehyun comments. “I like the way this is.”

You press your finger to his lips. “I think you should shut up and kiss me some more.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sexually repressed as of now, but that’s no reason to take advantage of me.”

You scowl, punching him on the shoulder and moving away from him.

“Come back,” he complains in a quiet voice.

“I am not going to do that.” You cross your arms.

“Come on,” he mutters, inching closer as you inch away, till your back hits the couch and you tumble backwards onto it, your legs on the headrest. Jaehyun laughs at your position, leaning in to keep his hands on either side of you, a doting look over him.

“Hey, did you know if I kicked my leg up, it would hit you in the balls?”

“Please don’t do that.”

You giggle, Jaehyun’s nose rubbing against yours in a bunny kiss. 

“Is your place usually this much of a mess?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. 

You sigh heavily. “I was having a bad day, okay? Or… a bad weekend.”

“Do you even have food?”

You look away, crossing your arms. Jaehyun sighs and shakes his head.

“We should go grocery shopping. How do you live like this?”

You scoff. “Oh, spare me the lecture. I’ve heard enough horror stories about your room from Sicheng. You can’t hide from me by sweeping your clothes and belongings into his room.”

“Snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your mouth and you immediately cover it. Jaehyun smiles at you fondly and you look away, unable to bear that gaze of his.

“It really won’t wash off, by the way,” Jaehyun states, scratching at his collarbone.

You narrow your eyes, smacking his arms away to roll off the couch. Taking his wrist, you walk into your bathroom and turn the tap on. Something’s strange. But also strangely right.

“Look, I already tried—ow! Don’t rub that hard!”

You blink in confusion, trying again despite Jaehyun looking like his soul already left him. It doesn’t work. Your marker isn’t even that permanent. At least his regenerating skin cells should get rid of that arrow. Unless the ink was deep enough to pierce all the layers, as in a soulmark.

You gasp.

“You were right!”

“I told you s—”

"That's the point, isn't it?" you say, realization dawning as your eyes widen. "To see if people will question the system at all."

Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe.”

"Oh, all those unhappy marriages that could have been saved," you say as you exhale. 

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. "I think that the point was, people can be happy without their soulmates. It's whoever you make one out of. Or I Googled too many articles on anti-soulmate propaganda."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. Watching his ears turn bright red is the cherry on top.

“Okay, fake-boyfriend-turned-real-soulmate.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Did you rethink your decision about sharing that Netflix password with me? I get the girlfriend free pass, right? Right?”

“I didn’t even share it with my mother.”

You whack his arm, him possibly used to it by now, judging from his lack of response. 

“Idiot.” You cross your arms. “We can Netflix… and chill then. God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Jaehyun breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so pushy.”

 “And you like being pushed around, nerd.”

“Who said that?”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, spinning you so that your back hits the door. He leans in to kiss you again and you smack your palm over his pouted lips. You laugh at his face, his eyes brimming with confusion.

“You’re in my apartment. I make the rules here. Think twice before you start a game with me, Mister.”

His shoulders droop. “Fine. Can you at least let me kiss you four times a day?”

“Five times, if you ask.”

He laughs before leaning in again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“You are one hell of a woman. Emphasis on hell.”

You laugh and grab his collar, pulling him in for the kiss that seals this deal.

You realize a few things in the moment: a) You don’t have to play roulette to find love, b) You don’t have to pick your poison to find love, and most importantly c) Love is right where you make something of it. Fate is still not in your good books but if it bends to you this way, you don’t mind at all. If Jaehyun kisses you like this every day, you don’t mind one bit. 

[ykwrites]

♡ 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮  𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 ♡

Pairing: Asahi x reader.

Warnings: None.

Rating:SFW.

Requests: CLOSED.

I’m back bbys, sorry I got a job, then got fired, then had about four mental breakdowns and a very anxiety filled couple months so yeh

You curiously held the letter in your hand, the fourth letter a stranger left in your locker this month.

Love letters, you thought this only happened in movies and most certainly not in college, that seemed like more of a highschool kind of deal.

Handwriting couldn’t be recognized since the letters were crearly written in a computer and printed.

“Your gaze is warm and beautiful, I can’t help but smile every time you look at me”Daichi mocked, reading over your shoulder “what a romantic dude”

You jumped, startled because he silently appeared out of nowhere.

“Stop that!”you nagged, pushing him “whoever this person is just tries to be sweet”

“Okay then, I won’t laugh at your secret boyfriend anymore”

“What are you talking about?” Asahi stood next to Daichi, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

He probably finished his last class of the day and found you both in the hallway like he always did.

“She got another letter” Daichi explained.

“Oh, they are insistent”Asahi responded nonchalantly, turning to look at you “doesn’t it bother you?”

“Not at all, it’s sweet. I wish they told me in person though”

Asahi keept his eyes on the floor, nodding to show he was listening and didn’t say much more, wich was not at all surprising since he was always just as dry, very nice and caring but dry.

A few minutes later everyone went home, and you wondered who the secret admirer could be. The first time you recieved a letter you thought it was a prank, until they kept coming.

It had to be someone who knew you well because in the messages they pointed out personal details and things you didn’t tell many people.

“I am lucky that I get to see how you work towards your goals and how passionate you are, that accompanied with your beauty is to be considered a gift”one of the letters said.

You had to admit those beautiful words boosted your confidence and even not knowing who they came from you were thankful that someone spent time and effort into making you feel happy.

As soon as you stepped in your room, you put the letter on your desk where you kept the rest and headed downstairs to get some food.

“Hello, sis” your brother greeted when he saw you entering the kitchen.

“Hi”you patted his shoulder brushing past him.

“There’s more of this rice in the fridge”he pointed to the plate in front of him “how was your day?”

“Boring, I got another letter though”

“Damn, that makes four already”he let out an exaggerated gasp.

“Yeah”you sat next to him.

“They should confess already”

“Technically they did”

“I mean face to face”

“It’s okay, maybe they are not confident enough”

“I would put a camera on your locker and catch them in the act”

“Because that’s realistic”a sarcastic laugh escaped you.

“At least I have ideas, I want to know who it is”

Before you could respond, the doorbell rang loudly and you rushed to open the door, wondering who would be visiting so late.

“Asahi?”you asked, looking at your tall friend with a concerned frown “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am”he responded, playing with the sleeves of his black sweater “can I come in?”

“Sure, we are having dinner if you want some”

This was strange, Asahi rarely showed up if it was not for studying and always appeared with Daichi.

You couldn’t help but worry, since he looked uncomfortable and nervous.

He followed behind you and stopped right before passing the kitchen’s door frame.

“Thank you for the offer, but I am not hungry”he explained.

“Okay”you nodded, understanding but still confused.

Silence arose, you were sure your brother was listening to whatever you two could talk about and decided on guiding your friend into your room.

Asahi sat awkwardly on the bed and looked around lost on what to do or how to start a conversation.

Obviously you knew him enough to know he was shy sometimes, but you had been friends for a long time and it didn’t make sense for him to get so weird.

“Azumane” you broke the silence.

He instantly looked at you, aware that if you called him that it meant you were seriously worried.

“Tell me what’s on your mind”

“I really don’t know why I came here, I could’ve waited until I saw you in class tomorrow” an apologetic expression showed on his face.

Finally, Asahi started to explain himself, although it still didn’t make sense.

“It’s okay” you sat next to him “You never do anything without a solid reason, so I don’t mind that you are here now”

“That’s a relief”

“Plus, I’m always happy to see you”

A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he locked eyes with you.

“I wanted to ask you something”

“Go on”

“How do you really feel about the person who writes the love letters?”

“I mean, I don’t know them so I can’t tell you exactly, by the way they write I can imagine they are an observer, sweet and caring”you answered, taking his hands in yours when you saw him fiddling with them in an almost compulsive manner.

“And you said it doesn’t bother you?”

“Not really, everyone likes positive attention sometimes”

“Isn’t it creepy that they are anonymous?”

“I guess from an outside perspective it can look creepy, but they are very respectful”

Asahi looked away again, not letting go of your hands.

“I know who it is”

Those words left you frozen for a moment and you could only nod for him to continue, hopeful and nervous to know.

“I am”

“You what?”

“I wrote them”he struggled to respond this time blushing furiously.

Your brain on the other hand, stopped functioning when realization hit you and suddenly everything made sense.

Asahi knew all the details on the letters because you told him as a friend, and he never got caught because he also knew your and Daichi’s schedules and could avoid both of you seeing him put something in your locker.

“I am sorry, maybe we should speak about this tomorrow”he finally let go of your hands, visibily flustered.

“No, please stay”you held his arm to keep him in place “I’m just processing, I would’ve never guessed”

“Well…”

“Why didn’t you tell me directly?”

“This will sound pathetic now, but I’ve liked you for a really long time and the letters were the only way to express my feelings without fear of rejection”

His eyes showed exactly that, fear and embarrassment and you felt sad for him, because obviously it was really hard to confess.

“Azumane”a faint voice left your lips as your face grew red and heart raced “I…”

The sudden inability to speak properly made you curse Daichi, your so called friend that spent most of his time teasing you with the fact that according to him you had a big crush on Asahi, although you never really stopped to think about it.

Now looking at Asahi sitting next to you lit up a spark, linking every sweet word on the letters with him.

“Look, you don’t have to do anything, we can pretend this never happened”

“I don’t want to do that”you crossed your arms, almost getting mad at him wanting to leave.

“Then, what do you want to do?”he asked, a mix of hope and confusion flooding his voice.

“I don’t know… go on a date or something”

“What?”he spoke so loud he scared himself.

“What I just said”you let out a little laugh at his reaction, that seemed to ease his nerves.

“I mean, yeah, of course, I would love to”

“Yay, but you have to tell me what you feel directly to my face from now on”

“I will try”he smiled, looking down.

“Daichi is going to give me a hard time for this”

“Oh, me too”

“Let’s tease him first so he shuts up”you held his hands excitedly.

“That’s a great idea, but first let’s plan that date”

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom 

Word Count: 8.2k

           I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

           Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

           Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

           It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

           To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

           I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

           “He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

           By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

           “Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

           And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

           Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

           “How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

           “I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

           He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

           “Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

           I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

           “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

           “Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

           Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

           “I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

           “N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

           And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

--

           Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

           In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

           The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

           After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

           I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

           Until today.

           “Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

           I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

           Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

           “Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

           “Why? Is there a problem?”

           Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

           “No, but I just think that-”

           “Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

           Right.

           I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

           Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

           But not to me – no, never to me.

           “Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

           After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

           “Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

           “… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

           I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated  groan.

           After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

           After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

           I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

           Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

           I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

--

           As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

           Or so I thought.

           I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

           And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

           “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

           “Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

           “Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

           “I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

           “C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

           “Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

           “You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

           “I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

           “Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

           Oh, fuck no.

           I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

           My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

           “What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

           “Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

           Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

           By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

           “You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

           I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

           “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

           Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

           “Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

           Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

--

           I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

           He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

           “I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

           “Oh. O-Okay.”

           And that was that.

           It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

           The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

           I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.  

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

           “D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

           “S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

           I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

           “Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

           I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

           “Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

           Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

           “You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

           “Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

           I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

           “Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

           I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

           Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

           “I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

           “Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?”            “N-No, Miss.”

           “Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

           “B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

           “Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

           Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

           “I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

           Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

           “Color?”

           “G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

           “Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

           “Tolstoy.”

           “Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

           A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

           “O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

           “You okay, baby?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

           My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

           “Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

           By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

           I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

           “T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

           “You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

           I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

           Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

           A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

           “Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

           “S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

           “Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

           “Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

           “Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

           “N-No, it’s just-”

           I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

           “No, it isn’t good enough?”

           Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

           “P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

           Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

           “Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

           That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

           “W-Why did yo-”

           “You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

           “S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

           Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

           “You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

           “Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

           “S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

           “Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

           “H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

           “Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

           “Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

           “Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

           While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

           “I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

           I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

           “Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

           With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

           “Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

           His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

           “Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

           “Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

           “Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me. 

           “Y/N - fuck!”

           Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

             I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

           “C-Can you stay? Please?”

           The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

           “Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

           “Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

           “Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

           “What is it, baby?”

           A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

           “Can I kiss you?”

           After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

           My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

           “I have another question,” he says shyly.

           “Lay it on me, baby.”

           The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

           “It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

           Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

           “First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

           “Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

--

           And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.

[tetsunormous]

Reencounters

pairing: Matsukawa Issei x f!reader

genre: college au, friends to lovers, smut (18+), fluff

word count: 6.5K

warnings: cunnilingus, fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, swearing, nipple play, pinning

A/N: This is for Ria's @bakugohoex's rich boy collab 💜 Congrat's on 3k!! thank you to @ohno-otome and @armins-futon for reading this for me. I love matsukawa but I don't write for him often so this has been really fun :)

Walking into your new dorm room, you weren’t sure what to expect. Sure, you’ve seen the pictures online, but there’s nothing like the slightly dusty window letting in a hazy ray of light shining down onto the slight dip in the middle of the mattress you now call your own. Your desk almost touched the corner of your twin-sized bed, and your new bookshelf barely has enough room to fit half of the books you brought, but this was your new life. It didn’t dawn on you just how different university would be until you arrived this morning, but here you were, unpacking all your clothes into the cramped closet in the corner. Luckily, you’re in the building where you had a single room. Privacy was something you were worried about, and the communal washrooms will be something to get used to, but either way, this was a new start, and no matter how nervous you are, you’re grateful for it.

High school wasn’t terrible, but it definitely wasn’t what you expected it to be. Going into it, you obviously knew that it would be nothing like how the movies depicted, but you were excited. How bad could those four years really be if you had your best friend right by your side? He was incredible. He understood you better than anybody else, would be able to tell how you were feeling without the exchange of words, but most of all, he was your person, and you were his.

There was no doubting that in all your years of friendship.

But alas, like all good things in life, they must come to an end.

The summer going into the twelfth grade, he was longer your best friend. The boy that would go to the farmers market with you and your mom every other Sunday was now lining up for the newest sneaker drop. The boy that would rather spend the night at home and binge-watch your shared comfort show for the seventh time is now out with the boys sneaking into shisha bars and doing donuts in the community centre parking lots with their new cars. You watched as he slowly forgot about you, getting caught up in his new friendships and obsessing over material items that he never cared about before. It’s not that you were upset he found new friends. It’s that the only time he would reach out was to randomly drop off something he had bought you in hopes it would make up for him blowing you off again.

They started small, simple sweaters he knew you would like, but the gifts became almost ridiculous as time passed. He would never let you return them either, so now you have designer shoes for imaginary banquets. Of course, you were always grateful, but you would trade all his gifts just to spend time with him again. His family has always been wealthy, they always went on lavish vacations and drove the nicest cars, but you never really cared about what he spends his money on or just how much his parents make. You cared that he saw you as a person he wanted to be with rather than just someone he could shove gifts towards to make up for the quality time he’d miss.

But now you’re here. You were arriving three hours before the suggested move-in time because you didn’t want to be rushed to unpack before orientation starts later. You’ve seen a few people walking around on your floor, but neither of your neighbours have arrived, and honestly, you don’t mind because that means you’re able to blast your music without worry. As The 1975 fills your room, you stand still for a second, really taking in where you are. You’re now attending one of the best schools in the country, living on your own with a floor of people you don’t know yet. It starts to sink in that you are starting anew. The people who end up in the rooms next to you might just end up being your lifelong friends. As the song comes to an end, you decide it’s time to try to make yourself look a little more presentable since it’s almost time for people to start rolling in.

...

It’s almost five in the afternoon, and everyone on your floor is meeting outside on the field for a quick introduction before group dinner. You’re sitting with your knees pressed to your chest as the girl next to you tries to make small talk. To be fair, she’s incredibly sweet, but you can’t focus on her because somewhere behind you, there is a voice you think you recognize. There’s no way he would be here. Sure, you have no idea what school he ended up choosing, but if he ended up here, he would’ve at least texted you. Right? Before you can confirm your suspicions, orientation starts, and your group leader is already talking with more energy than you can handle.

The group of guys settle down close by, and you can’t stop yourself from looking over, wondering if you’ll see the head of brown curls. Instead, you’re met with a bunch of frat boy looking wannabes that instantly make your eyes roll. To say you’re disappointed that you didn’t see him was so stupid. It’s been over a year, yet here you were, hoping to magically bump into him as if this was some cliche movie. If anything, it’s frustrating. It’s frustrating that even though he stopped caring for you, you still longed to see him, to hear him laugh at one of your cheesy jokes. It’s even more frustrating that this new start you’ve been looking forward to, makes you miss him even more.

There are only sixteen people on your floor, but introductions take a lifetime because someone didn’t come on time. When they finally do show up, you almost laugh at this whole situation because, of course, it was him. Of course, he was strutting down the courtyard in some brand new Gucci sneakers and the same Balenciaga sweater he had bought for you a few months ago. Of course, the annoying group of boys behind you gesture for him as he quickly apologizes to the group leaders. And, of course, when you make eye contact, he’s the one looking at you with a mixture of shock and annoyance.

Quickly rushing back to your room after the meeting, you decide you’re ordering in tonight so that you don’t have to see him for at least another day. This is all so fucked up. You wrack your brain trying to understand how probable this whole situation is because, frankly, it feels like a sick joke, and on top of it, he’s the one annoyed?

Naturally, you spend the rest of the night unpacking the rest of your things before ordering your comfort food to wash down all the feelings you’re experiencing. Putting on your favourite show, you begin your tenth rerun as you bury yourself in your blankets. Part of you feels so stupid for completely ignoring your initial dinner plans, but you knew with the mindset you had at the moment, there was no way you would have enjoyed yourself. It’s a bit silly you haven’t left your room since picking up your takeout, you don’t even know who lives beside you, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

Slipping into your slides, you head towards the washroom with your little toiletry bag. You pass by the girl you were sitting with earlier, and she sends you a smile. After apologizing for disappearing all night she just laughs and assures you nothing happened. She even points out where her room is if you were up to hang out tomorrow during frosh activities.

Just this interaction makes you feel better, and you quietly hum along to the familiar tune coming from the shower stall.

He used to play this song all the time, claiming it spoke to him the first time he heard it. Since then, it became the song he would play anytime he’d come to pick you up, explaining how this song is special because the ending always reminded him of you. It didn’t matter how long it’s been since the two of you hung out. Every time you heard ‘Pluto Projector,’ it would always bring a smile to your face. You even tried to show the song to your ex-boyfriend, but he never paid attention to your suggestions. He always claimed that his music taste was better. Thankfully that relationship only lasted a couple of months, but still, the regret of not waiting for someone worthy lingers in your mind.

While applying your moisturizer, you hear the water shut, the person pausing the song right as the orchestra starts to come in. Worried about who you may run into, you quickly pack up your stuff. You hear the click of the lock, and as you turn around, you’re met with him, with his curly hair all damp and his obnoxious teal blue robe wrapped loosely around his waist.

Rushing past him, you briskly walk towards your room, but before you can close the door, his foot jams between the doorframe. He pushes his way in and quietly closes the door, only to be met with the unimpressed look on your face. He circles around your room, eyes searching for any trace of your past friendship before standing back at the door.

“What do you want, Matsukawa?” you ask impatiently. It’s bad enough you run into the one person you wanted to forget, but now he’s standing in your room with a matching frown.

Something indescribable flashes across his eyes, and you can visibly see his frown deepen at your question. Leaning against your door, his arms come up to rub over his face, peeking at you through his fingers before letting out a long sigh. “When did I become Matsukawa? I thought I was Issei.”

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips, and you realize how childish your grudge might be, but he has changed, and the man standing in front of you isn’t the same man you once called your best friend. “When you changed, Matsukawa. Issei was my best friend, and YOU are not.”

His eyes filled with confusion as his eyebrows furrow, taking a step forward towards you. “I’m sorry? I tried to stay in touch with you. You’re the one that stopped talking to me, so I’d try to send you things instead. How was I the one who changed?”

You stand there, staring at him for a second before shaking your head. “I can’t do this right now; I want to have a good day tomorrow, so I need to go to sleep. Please, leave my room.”

His eyes soften a little, and you can see a faint glimpse of his infamous lazy smile, “We both know you’re not going to be sleeping anytime soon,” he stalks over and kicks his slides off before sitting at the end of your bed. “Let’s talk about this because, frankly, I’m tired of watching you decide if you hate me every time you see me.”

The nerve of this man. The fact that he invites himself into your room, declares his stay, and then sits on your bed without permission. You don’t even know if he’s wearing anything under that robe as his hair is literally dripping onto your comforter. Regardless of what the situation is, this action alone has you seething. Turning towards your desk chair, you harshly pull out the slightly imbalanced piece of wood and sit down, silently questioning why he isn’t the one on the chair.

He watches you stomp around, and he kinda chuckles at your little tantrum, missing how easy it was to rile you up. Your glare at him would be a little scary if he didn’t see the way your lips mumbled to yourself. It’s honestly a little cute to watch you all frustrated with him even though he saw one of the shoes he bought you in your closet. Sure, they look brand new, but the fact that you brought them here with you must mean something.

The year you two spent apart has been really stressful on Matsukawa. He thought that you’d be happy that he could give you everything you wanted. He knew he wasn’t spending as much time with you as he used to, but he thought the gifts he spent hours lining up for would make up for it.

When you stopped returning his calls and texts, he was crushed. Everyone could see how he felt about you, but then he watched you get close to another man. Within two weeks, you were dating him, and he was left watching from a distance. Neither of you ever confirmed your feelings for each other, but he could tell that man wasn’t making you happy. He didn’t understand your different facial expressions, he didn’t care about what you had to say, but all he could do was watch the girl he wanted from the sidelines.

Sure, as time went on, Matsukawa also started talking to other girls. None of them ever became his girlfriend, he didn’t think it was fair to get with someone when he was set on you, but he had his fair share of hookups. He has money, a shit ton of it, but he never let that get to his head. It wasn’t his fault that he gained popularity when he started to get into name brands and upgraded his car, but none of that ever changed who he was — at least not to the degree you had him pinned.

He watches you carefully, your leg bouncing impatiently as your eyes glare daggers in his direction. He runs his hand through his hair and lets out a sigh, “what did I do wrong? You didn’t even give me a chance to fix whatever I did (y/n).”

The lamp in the corner of your room shines a dim yellow hue onto his features. His brows are knitted in concern as he leans forwards on his knees, his robe showing off a deep v down his chest. You can feel yourself freeze up at his question, goosebumps covering your skin, while your eyes pour into his. “You changed Matsukawa. You stopped making an effort to be there. I’m not some girl you can just buy with all your money. I have never cared about how much you have or what you can afford -- you know that! It doesn’t matter what. I always split things with you because I never wanted you to feel like I was there for your money. But then suddenly, you just stop showing up. You wouldn’t even tell me you made other plans, and I would just open my door to find some package you dropped off.”

His eyes search your face before letting out a deep sigh. “I tried! You wouldn’t answer any of my calls, I know I stopped explaining myself, but can you blame me? Don’t you think I want to take you around and introduce you to all my friends? Don’t you think I miss going on late-night drives with you to 7-11? Every time I would drive past there, you’re all I thought about. You and your stupid obsession with cheese taquitos and Arizona tea. Did you even think about how I felt when you decided to act like I don’t exist?” He hastily stands up and paces around in the confined space of your dorm room. He never raises his voice, so hearing him talk at a slightly louder volume was enough to let you know he was dead serious. “You know, I never stopped talking highly about you because as selfish as it is, those boys have an important family. They have the connections you dream about (y/n), so even when you started to ignore me to go out with that fucking ex-boyfriend of yours, I never said anything.”

He looks at you with pleading eyes before going to sit back down, his elbows now resting against his thighs. “I know you don’t care about my money, but I didn’t know how else to tell you I was still thinking about you. I tried to get you things that you’d like, things that you’d wear. But no, I had to watch you put on a fake smile and laugh at that asshole’s jokes while you stubbornly ignored me to the point I thought you had me blocked.”

Looking up at you through his curls, his hooded eyes looked darker before. His lips curled into a forced smile as he let out a breathy chuckle, “he didn’t deserve you. But what do I know, right?”

You sat there quietly, taking in what he had just said. You didn’t realize how hurt he was. To be frank, up till now, you were so consumed by your feelings, and you failed to consider his own. His head is hanging between his hands, and the silence in your room right now is insufferable. He’s just explained himself, yet all you can do is scoff at yourself. While you were obsessing over the fact that Matsukawa wasn’t coming over to watch another rerun of your favourite show, he was out picking out different gifts he thought you’d like. You didn’t even open the last few because your own emotions so blinded you. Hearing him take a deep breath, he stands up and smiles sadly at you, “nice talk, (y/n). Thanks for listening.”

“I’m sorry, Issei.”

He lifts his head to meet your gaze, and you can visibly watch as his shoulders relax. It’s been too long since he’s heard you call him by his first name.

“I’m sorry too. I should’ve just gotten out of the car to talk to you.”

You look at him with a small smile. Walking towards your bed, you sit down and pat the spot beside you, pulling him in for a hug. His robe is probably the softest thing you’ve ever felt in your life, your fingers sinking into the fabric as you hold him close. His arms are immediately wrapping around you, and you both stay like that for a minute before you pull back, a faint blush blooming on your cheeks.

“No, you have nothing to apologize for. You tried reaching out to me, you tried explaining yourself, but I didn’t even give you a chance. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I was so caught up I didn’t even think about what you were feeling. The fact that you still wanted to introduce me to your friends, even after all the stuff I did to you….I’m so sorry, Issei.”

He gives you a playful smile and lightly nudges your shoulder with his, “yea, that was kinda unfair, but good thing we talked it out, huh?”

You flash him a sheepish smile, but your eyes glimmer with happiness, “yea, it’s good you barged into my room at two in the morning. Just like old times.”

His smile instantly grows at your playfulness, and he gives you a mock scoff. “I’m sorry, but if I remember correctly, you’d beg for me to stay over at two am cause you decided you wanted to watch a scary movie. Have you gotten better with horror movies this year, or are you still as jumpy as I remember?”

The tip of your ears growing warm while you mutter out a quick “shut up.”

His laughter makes your heart beat against your chest because you missed it so much. It’s been a while since you got to hear him laugh with you, and without even thinking, you go in for another hug.

His arms easily hold you close, and one of his massive hands reaches up to pet your hair. “Missed me, didn’t you?” he asks, and you can feel him smirking, so you just nod, your fingers playing with the damp, short curls at the base of his nape.

“Issei?” you ask with a little murmur against his neck.

“Hmmm?”

You smile to yourself and pull back a little, so you can see his face, “so other than hanging out with your friends and keeping up with my relationship, what else have you been doing?”

His face drops as he looks at you with a deadpan stare, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a smile as you giggle at his reaction. He pushes you back, so you end up falling onto your mattress, his long limbs effortlessly straddling your legs. Before you can think about the position you’re in, his fingers start to poke all-around your torso, causing you both to laugh as he starts to tickle you. “You think you’re funny, huh?” His hands go to tickle your worst spot as he starts to talk, but you can’t hear him over your own laughter. His fingers slow down, but you keep giggling when you’re met with his lazy smirk, “I’m trying to talk, you know. It’s rude you’re laughing when I’m trying to speak to you.”

He leans forwards and has both hands resting at the side of your head. Your faces now inches apart, the faint smell of sandalwood from his body wash now becoming more apparent. You stare into his brown eyes, and it almost feels as if everything stopped for a few seconds. The lamp in your room doesn’t do him justice as the shadows of his face wash over his features, but even then, his eyes stare back at you with a slight twinkle as you catch your breath.

Reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and you tug him close, crashing his lips onto yours. The sweet hints from his beloved Burt’s bee’s lip balm make his lips even softer than you imagined. The kiss is short, but as you both pull away, he’s staring at you with a goofy smile.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that, (y/n).”

“Me too, Issei,” you whisper back before his lips capture yours again, this time with more confidence. This kiss is much more passionate than the last, holding onto each other in hopes of deepening it. One of his hands travels down to grab your waist, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip, asking for permission. Your lips part and your tongues swirl together effortlessly while your hands play with his hair, pulling him closer into your body.

His hand feels a little rougher than before against your bare skin because of how often he trains, running down the length of your leg. The light touch of his fingertips admires how smooth your skin is before they trail back up, stopping just before the edge of your pyjama shorts. Hooking your leg around his hip, he leans into your body even further and even nips at your bottom lip.

Matsukawa smirks and whispers against your lips, “did he ever kiss you like that?”

Slightly surprised at the question, you shake your head, answering honestly. “He never made me feel the way you do.”

You watch as his eyes dilate, flickering into a deep brown you’ve never seen on him. The hand that was previously on your leg is now cupping your cheek, stroking your face softly, while his own face blooms into a rare shade of pink. Still, his words are clear, “please...give me a chance? He never treated you right. Let me take care of you?”

Words can’t describe how his question made you feel. You spent years learning about Matsukawa, understanding him to the point where words weren’t necessary to see what was happening in his head. Not once did you think he reciprocated your feelings, let alone want to be with you. Yet, here you are, caged beneath his arms as his hopeful eyes pour into yours.

Turning your head slightly, you press a kiss onto his hand and smile. “Please?”

His face breaks into a smile. His cheeks are tinted rose as the corners of his mouth reach up to his eyes. Leaning down, he peppers kisses onto your face, the loose curls on his head tickling your cheeks as he giggles with you. The kisses trail down to your jaw, and he follows the natural curve of your jawline to your ear. “Is this okay?” he whispers softly, only continuing down this path when you give him a curt nod.

Your legs tighten around his waist when he begins to press open mouth kisses down your neck, gently nipping at the spots that make you let out shy little sounds. His tongue leaves kitten licks against your skin after he’s sucked on it, littering faint marks. Seeing you with light hickeys on the base of your neck and collarbones is completely self-indulgent for him. Thinking about waking up in the morning and seeing the marks he knows he gave you makes him inexplicably happy as he sucks particularly hard, causing you to wince.

Immediately he stops and turns to you, “I’m sorry, did I hurt you? D’you wanna stop?”

His concern for you is truly a breath of fresh air compared to what you had before. Shaking your head, you guide his hands to the edge of your sweater. “You bought this for me… it’s only fair I let you take it off.”

He studies your face for a second before his lips curl into a lazy smirk, quickly pulling the overpriced sweater off your body. He takes a sharp inhale when you reveal you aren’t wearing anything underneath as he’s met with your beautiful tits, nipples hard and pointed. “You let me in here knowing you weren’t wearing a bra? And here I thought you were a good girl.”

Noticing how your legs tighten around him, he smirks even wider. Leaning back down, his kisses trail down to your chest, and his lips feel soft and warm against your skin. His fingers take hold of your chin and force you to look down on him while his lips wrap around your nipple, the tip of his tongue flicking gently at the hardened bud. His hand palms against the fatty flesh of your other tit; his fingers are rolling your nipple before tugging on it experimentally.

Suddenly feeling shy, your arms come up to cover your face slightly just to have him lace his fingers with yours, pulling your arms away. “Don’t hide from me. Let me see how pretty you look. Let me hear how good I make you feel, okay?”

“I’ve never had someone play with my tits like this…”

He just stares at you, brows knitted as his smirk turns into a slight pout. “You’re with me now; that means every part of your body will be pleasured. I wanna hear and see all of you, okay?”

With a shy nod, you gently roll your hips against him, inviting more of his attention.

He kisses you once more, murmuring against your lips, “you’re so beautiful. Let me know if I’m going too fast, okay?”

His lips follow down your body once more, lightly biting your tit before using the flat part of his tongue to feel the valley between your chest. Matsukawa lets out a low moan as you arch upwards, pushing yourself closer to his touches. Letting go of your hands, he begins to massage the soft flesh of your tits and kiss down your stomach, the tip of his tongue trailing against the waistband of your shorts.

“Let me hear you ask for it; I don’t wanna do something you don’t want.”

“Isseiiii, please?” you whine out, the tip of your ears turning hot at the thought of asking for his tongue.

He smirks at you, looking up through his hooded eyes and tsks. “Be a good girl for me. Use your words.”

His words go straight to your pussy, and you can’t help the doe eyes look in your eyes when you whimper out, “please, Issei? Wanna feel your mouth on me.”

You watch as he takes in a sharp breath, the hunger in his eyes shining through despite the dim lighting in your room. He tugs at the end of your shorts until they’re completely off, repositioning himself lower until your legs are resting around his biceps. His eyes zone in on the way a sheer layer of slick coats your lips, happy that the attention he’s been giving you has pleased you. As he shimmies down on your bed, his legs now supporting himself on the floor, he nestles himself between your legs, easily spreading your things open with his arms. Sending you a knowing smile, he blows cool air directly onto your clit, loving how your walls flutter for him.

“You’re so sensitive, baby.”

“No one’s ever made me feel like this before...want more, please?”

You look down at him with pleading eyes, your hands cupping his face when you speak. Pressing a quick peck to your hand, he hips his head down and traces your pussy lips with his tongue, savouring how you taste.

The gasp that you let out once you felt his touch was adorable. It suddenly became the sound Matsukawa will chase after the more he gets to know your body and what it likes. He takes one long lap up your pussy, stopping just before your clit and using his fingers, he spreads your lips even more. Once your clit is all exposed, he flicks it gently with the tip of his tongue, looking up at you with all the confidence in the world. Hearing your little moans make him greedy for more, for more desperate and needy sounds, so he goes to press a kiss onto your bundle of nerves. Feeling you twitch beneath him, he gently places his lips around the sensitive bud and sucks earnestly, relishing in the way you buck your hips and call out his name. After a while of pure clitoral stimulation, he leans back up to watch your eyes blink back into focus on his face, a silly dazed smile on your face.

He winks at you and sticks his tongue into your drooling hole, swirling it around to feel the walls of your pussy clench around him. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he nuzzles his nose against your clit, his cock getting unbearably hard at the way you pant our pleas.

“I-issei! Please….need you inside, please!”

Coming back up for air, his hand leaves your thigh as his fingers start to tease around your hole, loving how your pussy clenches around nothing. So needy for his touches when he’s barely even started. He knows your orgasm was building, but he wants to take his time with you. You mean the world to him, and seeing you like this already makes him feel like the luckiest man at the moment.

Taking two of his fingers, he coats them in all your slick before slowly pushing them inside you. His eyes squeeze shut when he feels how tight you are, his mind immediately thinking about how you’d feel wrapped around his cock. When he’s finally inside, he pulls out slowly before sliding them back in, loving how you beg for more.

“Need more, please, Issei! Go faster, please.”

Your hands pull his head up to kiss you while his fingers begin to speed up. With the lewd sound of his hand slapping against your sopping wet pussy, his palm is applying pressure to your clit. Your moans are lost in your kisses, his other hand going back to playing with your sensitive nipple.

“I have to stretch you out, babygirl. I don’t want my cock to hurt you.”

All you’re able to do is nod as his fingers start to scissor your hole, stretching you out even more. His fingers, now knuckle deep, curl against your sweet spot, making you grip onto his hair as he swallows all your cries, suddenly remembering that the walls in this dorm probably aren’t that thick.

His fingers curl into you more, whispering sweet praises as his hand teases and tugs on your swollen nipple. Everything happened so quick, and you’re cumming all over his hand, your sweet sticky arousal covering his fingers as he slows down. Matsukawa is smiling down at you, “you did so well, baby. Bet that felt really good, huh?”

Maybe you’re needy or just horny, but even after your orgasm, you start tugging the tie that keeps his robe up. Your legs are sore, sorer than they’ve ever been, but all you can think about is how full you would feel with him inside of you. He smirks at you as he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking off all your juices before letting his robe fall and chucking it to the ground. He’s wearing his briefs, but you can see how hard his cock is under the thin cotton material. Before you’re able to pull his underwear down, he stops you and lets out a small chuckle. “I’m sorry, I don’t have a condom. We don’t have to do anything.”

You giggle and shake your head, “don’t need one; we’re in university, baby. What’s a little fun without risks?”

He lets you pull his underwear down, and his massive throbbing cock instantly slaps against his stomach as he laughs at your reaction. “Had to make sure you were stretched out enough.”

You bite your lips and stare at how big his cock actually is. It’s hard to imagine how you’ll fit that inside of you, but you’re determined to give it a try.

“You ready, pretty girl?” he asks as he taps the tip of cock against your clit, loving how you squirm under him.

“mmhmm, Issei.”

He lets go of his cock and leans up, and pulls you into a deep kiss, completely in awe of you.

“Tell me if you wanna stop, kay?”

Replying with a small hum, he gathers up the remaining slick that’s leaking out of your pussy and strokes his cock slowly, also letting his spit drip down to help lubricate himself. He lines himself up with your pretty pussy and starts to push the head in, studying your face to make sure you’re doing alright. When he sees you smiling back at him, despite the grip you have on his arms, he pushes another two inches inside of you.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. We’re almost halfway,” he whispers into your ear as he kisses your neck softly, sucking on the spot by the base of your lobe. “Such a good girl for me,” he coaxes as his cock slides another inch into your sweet cunt.

Incredibly, he’s only halfway down because you’ve never felt this full before. Still, your fingers dig into his arms when you ask for more. “Just want all of you in me, please?”

Hearing you ask for more even though you already looked fucked out sparks something inside him. He lets out a low growl and quickly pushes the rest of his length inside you, mumbling sweet nothings against your skin. He moans out with you when he feels how warm and tight you are, your pussy stretching more than it ever has to accommodate his size.

“Feel s’good, Issei.”

With a breathy chuckle, he peppers kisses all over your neck, loving the sound of your soft giggles as he pulls back three-quarters of the way, slowly pushing his way back into you. The gasp you let out is different than before, much more surprised but sensual.

He continues this motion a few more times before he picks up the pace, his hips slamming against you while your tits bounce. Each thrust knocks the air out of your chest cause he’s brushing against your spot every time. Matsukawa leans down and presses his forehead against the crook of your neck, muttering how good you feel.

“F-faster...need you faster, is’o good, please.”

Obliging to your pleas, he starts to rut his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin with each movement. He looks up to see your dreamy eyes and smiles. He knows there’s not a thought behind those eyes right now as his cock slams against your walls with each thrust. He goes to kiss you again, silencing your cries as your nails drag down his arms, trying to ground yourself in the midst of all the pleasure.

“You’re s-tight baby I- fuuuuuck, I can barely move.”

You can’t help it. Your walls are naturally squeezing him because he’s fucking straight into your sweet spot with each snap of his hips. You look at him with hazy eyes, entirely in a trance as you moan out his name. He can tell you want to cum, so his hand reaches down to rub your clit as his cock continues to pound into you.

“C’mon baby, cum all over my cock. You can do it...ah shit, yea, just like that.”

He’s been trying so hard not to cum but watching your back arch into him as your nails drab down his back, his name falling out from your lips in a loud erotic moan, is making it really hard. He looks down in surprise when he sees a creamy white rim around his cock, proud of himself for making you cream.

“Good girl...that’s my fuckin girl.”

Satisfied he made you finish, his head falls back onto your shoulder, his hips just rutting into you as he chases his own orgasm. Not even a minute later, he’s calling out for you as he quickly pulls out, cumming all over your tits. His chest heaves along with yours, his hair sticking to his forehead slightly as he empties his load all over your chest.

Once you’ve both calmed down a little bit, he smiles down at you and goes to stroke your cheek. “Had you creaming on my cock, was it fun? Did you have a good time?”

“S’good...thank you, baby,” you say before pulling him down for a kiss.

He gets up and reaches for his robe, “you did so good, took me like a champ heh. I’ll be back with a rag to clean you up, okay? Don’t move.”

As he leaves your room, you stare up at the ceiling and let out a laugh. Not even twelve hours ago, you were cursing the fact that he was here with you, and now you have his cum all over your tiddies as he goes to get stuff to clean you up.

You watch as he comes back into your room, fully changed with a rag in his hand. He kneels beside you and pets your hair as he starts to wipe his mess.

“Why’re you changed?”

“Oh! We’re going to 7-11 once I get you cleaned up.”

“.....it’s like three-thirty in the morning.”

“I’ll get you taquitos and Arizona,” he says as he goes to wipe around your pussy, mindful not to put too much pressure cause you’re still sensitive.

“And skittles?”

He snorts and kisses your shaking thigh, “yea, I’ll get you skittles, brat.”

© tetsunormous 2021

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