#personally the only choice I ever had to make was “here are three languages pick two”

[yary-t]

I spent a couple hours today googling stuff about high school (fun fact: that category isn't used) in England for my Dreamling outsider POV WIP and I need to come to terms with the facts:

a) there will be at least one major thing I took for granted as being universal to how schools work that doesn't actually apply; any actual English readers (and possibly any American ones as well, or even non-Brazilians in general) will see it and go "wtf? that's not how school works"

b) I will never know if my "the kids want to start an after school drama club and they need a teacher to supervise it" plot has any verisimilitude

I should just write the fic and stop trying to wrap my head around the types of British schools and how common the house system actually is and how much people actually care about which house they're in and all that stuff

#fun fact in Brazil you just get put into a class and you take all the subjects with that class #there are exceptions like merging classes for PE so you can have enough people to actually play team sports #ofc you can ask to switch to a different class if you are being bullied or just want to be in the same class as your friends #(so you can do group projects with them) #Also it's the teachers that move from room to room #the students only move for PE and languages and stuff. Occasionally to the chemistry lab #or the physics lab or the computer lab #but other than that the students just stay in the room assigned to their class #that obviously only works because we mostly can't choose subjects #personally the only choice I ever had to make was “here are three languages pick two” #And I chose wrong #the sandman #dreamling #fic writing #personal

[army93bangya]

The Moon Goddess’s Chosen | Chapter 3 | MYG [M]

*Chapter 3

*Summary: A mate connection has been made between Y/N and Alpha Min. What will Y/N's Father and Darius do now? How will Yoongi and Y/N react?

*Genre/Rating: Mature, 18+, Werewolf/Fated mates, eventual smut? 🤔🤷🏻‍♀️

*Warnings/Potential Triggers: Talks of Child Abuse, Abuse, Non-con Touching, Mistreatment, Non-con Confinement, Angst, Anxiety, Nervousness, Character Poisoning, Explicit Language, Mention of plotting Murder, Mention of Murder/Massacre, Reader is going thru it, Confrontation, Violence, Choking, Panic Attack, Possible future Smut,….more to be added in future chapters

*Disclaimer: This work was written and owned by Army93bangya and there is no consent for anyone else to post it as theirs, this story is intended for entertainment purposes only, this is a work of fantasy, seems a bit ridiculous to say but I do not own or have rights to BTS or the members and the characters in this story are a fictional interpretation of members.

*Words: 3780

*Notes: This chapter was harder to type out than the previous ones. I knew how I wanted this to go in my head but getting it out and written took me awhile. Nevertheless, I am satisfied with how it turned out and I hope you the readers can pick up on the words and emotions that are unspoken here. I have a feeling the next chapter might take me longer to get out but please be patient with me. 😊 I would love to hear thoughts after reading, it makes me very happy! As always thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Previous Chapter ------- Next Chapter

Fuck her. When you come back to yourself that's the first thought you have, being faced with the situation before you. Alpha Min is your fated mate. The alpha that massacred not one, not two, but three packs. The alpha that enlisted rogues, criminals, to aid him in his atrocious endeavors. She supposedly blessed him, giving him strength more immense than any other living alpha. Then she gave him her mage wolf, you, as his fated mate. She champions this alpha that murders, who seems to have no benevolence for innocent life among the bad. What is her vision? Whatever it is you want no part of it anymore, and yet she has once again chosen your path in life for you, she compelled you to make eye contact, commanded you to make the connection to this alpha with a force so powerful you had no choice but to oblige.

Alpha Min is standing about ten feet from you, who is just about being fully held up by Darius’s grip at this point. You loathe to admit that to you, he is the most attractive man you have ever laid eyes upon. With pale skin, eyes that seem to be able to glimpse into a person's soul, hair so dark it is almost black, and long enough to reach the nap of his neck while also framing his face. And what an exquisite face it is. What is surprising is that for a wolf who is said to be some high-powered alpha, his stature does not match up to his speculated reputation. You now understand Darius’s outburst earlier a little more now, but you of all people know that looks can be deceiving. If you yourself were to stand right in front of Alpha Min, the top of your head would probably reach slightly above his shoulders. You're supposed to be powerful as well, but you are short for a wolf and at the moment you just look and feel pitiful.

He does not acknowledge the person that greeted him. No, instead he is staring you down with an expression so blank you wonder if he has any emotions at all. What is he going to do? He knows you’re his mate now. Holy shit your father! Your father and Darius are right here too! Throwing a quick glance towards the man, your fathers body language speaks of his frustration and rage at the situation before him. His fists clenched and the look behind his eyes burning with intent to kill, although you know he won’t pull anything with so many people around to witness. You internally start to be filled with even more panic. What is your father going to do now that you have made the connection to your mate? Darius and him have both told you if you bonded, they would kill your mate. But this alpha is formidable, you can feel the power radiating off of him while you are left feeling faint from all the stress you have gone through today, the wolfsbane, the mate connection being made, it is all too much.

“You're Unwell.” Eyes growing wider you stare at his now back to normal dark brown ones as those are the first two words he utters and they’re directed at you. You can't even process what he means by his words to think of a response before Darius is answering for you. “She is fine, Alpha Min, just tired. The day has been long already and we were just about to retire back to our camp.” Fuck! Darius' arm that's almost fully holding you up looks possessive, his scent is still all over you, and now he is speaking for you. To any wolf that sees the two of you it's blatantly obvious that he is laying claim to you. At this point though you pray that this alpha does not dispute or is hopefully disgusted by this display and walks away, walks away from his fated mate, from you. You who has obviously been chosen by another, even without being marked, and you never thought you would see the day when you would be okay with Darius’s disgusting possessive nature of you. But the devil you know is better than the devil you don't know, and right now Alpha Min is definitely not someone you want to get to know. His entire aura feels threatening. The concerning part though is how Alpha Min is reacting, even with you in Darius’s arms, and his words.

Like before Alpha Min does not physically respond to Darius’s words either, which you just know is infuriating the bonehead to no end, being so disregarded has got to bruise that over-inflated ego. He just continues to gaze upon you, but there is a flicker of expression on his face, you try to decipher the best you can, but are left confused when the only thing you can come up with for that fleeting change was apprehension? Concern? You're not sure but don't have time to consider anymore, because Alpha Min, for the first time since you made eye contact with him, and a mate connection, looks away from you.

He looks away from you, then directly at Darius in a way that seems to say he has less worth than a bug underneath the alphas boot, before finally settling on your father, who has been quietly observing and assessing the situation so far. Probably trying to come up with a new plan, because there is no way in hell they thought an alpha this powerful would be your mate, even with all the stories of a mage wolf's mate being born strong enough to protect the goddesses chosen. Oh. Well now that makes sense, why the moon goddess would bless this alpha. The fact that you had yet to put together this corresponding correlation makes you feel incredibly dumb. Alpha Min's posture is relaxed and you can't help but think that it is done in an arrogant, mocking manner. To appear so unbothered being surrounded by so many who might wish you harm shows an extreme level of either confidence or ignorance, and you just know it's the former. 

“Rumors almost always have a measure of truth to them. Shall I enlighten you on some of those truths?” Holy Shit! How? How could he have known that's what was being discussed by these three, they were speaking low enough, and he had to be far enough away that even wolf hearing should not have been able to pick up on it! Darius' mouth falls open in shock surprise, Alpha Sharp takes a quick inhale of breath, and your father impressively appears undisturbed, which does not bode well. Gone is the subtle rage you were able to discern from being ‘raised’ by the man, when he presents such a passive exterior, you know that he is conspiring. Suddenly three of your fathers betas appear and position themselves around your group, ready to defend or attack at command. Alpha Min does not respond to the betas whatsoever, doesn't move or withdraw even a inch. Your father studies the younger alpha before responding. “If you wish to regale us with the truths of mindless gossip, Alpha Sharp and I shall oblige you. Darius, why don't you take Y/N back to camp now to rest?”

Darius starts to turn with you when Alpha Min's eyes transfer to him with such a sinister look you can't help the shiver that runs through your body, reminding you of your pain all over again. “Move one step and both your arms will be removed from your body before your pack betas can even think to intervene.” Five men appear and stand behind Alpha Min forming a half circle, faces serious and ready for trouble. His betas. You freeze, Darius freezes. Before anyone else can respond Alpha Min shoots a quick glance at the arm wrapped around you and then looks away from the two of you, focusing back on your father like he didn’t just issue a threat. 

“The ‘mindless’ gossip questions if I have been blessed by the goddess and born stronger than that of a normal wolf. But if the goddess truly was to bless me upon my birth would she just give me enhanced strength? Or enhanced senses as well. For example, hearing amplified enough that it is effortless for me to hear conversations and gossip better done in private.” You're stunned. In fact you think everybody on your side of this confrontation is mutely astounded. He smirks. “Or maybe even my sense of smell so heightened I could smell my mate from a half a mile away, even with her completely enveloped in your mutts scent.” He looks back at you, smirk gone, and you can definitely see the scarce worry in his eyes now. It leaves you feeling bewildered and uncomfortable. 

“While Alpha Sharp was relaying you with all the humorous stories that are being told about myself and my pack, I couldn't help but inspect my mate's appearance. What's concerning is how unwell she appears to be while you three chatter on around her outwardly unaware of her distress.” His expression turns tense while still somehow appearing calm. “I was puzzled as to why none of you seemed to notice or care about her noticeable discomfort. So I decided to come over to check on her myself.” His eyes have now turned frigid, the murderous aura radiating off him enough to have just about any wolf running for it with their tail between their legs. “Imagine my surprise when I got closer only to notice another scent coming from her. A normal wolf would not be able to pick up the scent with such a miniscule amount.” He turns his full body to your father, giving him a look promising hell on earth and retribution. “Wolfsbane. This she-wolf has wolfsbane in her system, and judging by the fact that you two seem untroubled this entire time, I can only conclude that you are both aware of the poison coursing through her.”

Silence. Utter silence with what must be shock before Alpha Sharp seems to recover and respond. “That is a serious accusation Alpha Min, One that only you can seemingly prove if you can smell the wolfsbane on her like you say you can.” Your Father immediately cuts in. “It's insulting and incredulous is what it is! Why on earth would you think that I, her father, or my successor, who is to be her chosen mate, would poison her!?” He's quite the actor, he seems considerably offended. Studying the man you can see his body is radiating stress, this day has not gone the way he was hoping and now he has to come up with a different plan immediately. The tension is permeating the area surrounding you and starting to draw attention from onlookers. 

Alpha Min turns his head back towards you and inspects your person with an intense expression. You refuse to look at him instead choosing to stare at the ground before your feet. You didn’t need to see this alpha viewing you with such pity and aversion, Or worse would be  him inspecting you like you are his property. That is about all you feel like anymore, seen as nothing but property. He must notice the attention that has been brought to this conflict, because his next words are much lower to only be heard by the wolves in his vicinity. “Some of the Min packs history is known by all. But as the last Alpha of that pack's son, I was raised learning so much history of not just the Min pack, but the Kim pack as well. History that other packs were not privy too. I know what the gifts that were given to me by the moon goddess means, know what purpose they are meant to serve.” He focuses back on your father with an amused look, like catching a petulant child in a poorly made scheme. 

“Did you honestly think her mate wouldn’t be able to tell who she is? Even without my knowledge of what she is I could tell as soon as the connection was made. You’ve been hiding her from the world Alpha Y/L/N. Which explains the wolfsbane and her current state, i'm guessing you poisoned her to keep her weak and compliant, your lackey scenting her enough to mask her scent, It's quite a clever plan but in the end proved futile.” Your mate is quite perceptive and you can't help but think that doesn’t bode well for you either. This entire situation is fucked. You look up and survey Alpha Sharp. At Alpha Min's words, he is looking at your father with confusion. As his ally and close friend, maybe he is hoping the man will enlighten him as to what the hell the younger alpha is going on about. Despite your jest about his intelligence earlier, you know that Alpha Sharp is very clever and it will not take him long for the puzzle to be put together.

“What do you want? You can not have my daughter, she has been promised to Darius and even if she wasn’t I will not allow her to leave my pack. So we will have to come to some other arrangement.” Astonished. You are utterly astonished that your father has now sunk to bargaining with this alpha. Your mind racing, you begin to ponder what could possibly be going through his head right now. He must be desperate in his desire to keep your abilities to himself. After analyzing your father for a long moment, Alpha Min finally opens his mouth to respond. “Other than my mate you have nothing that I could possibly want. And you are going to give her to me, Otherwise it would be quite unfortunate for you to have your secret come out here. With so many packs gathered I can not begin to imagine how they would take hearing such deception all together, what actions would arise from such treachery. My only internal conflict is would I stand by and watch the brutal justice that would most likely ensue, or partake in the execution that I am sure would be quite creative. As for your lapdog, I find that he is too ignorant and would be an inadequate mate for someone such as her. A very poor choice on your part.”

The scene that unfolds before you has you on the verge of passing out, whether it be from terror or your current condition finally taking its toll is undetermined. Darius for the first time since you got to this clearing releases you from his hold causing you to drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes, and begins to charge at Alpha Min. The betas all move to respond, but it is the Bangtan pack betas that advance quicker. Three of the unknown men have your fathers betas on the ground pinned at the same moment like it was some synchronized dance they practiced for months. Another of your fated mates betas has made the decision to progress to you. Kneeling himself behind you, he then gently lifts you into a sitting position, taking your weight and cradling you in a protective way. Utterly alarmed you begin to attempt to move away but he shushes you in a comforting manner before whispering in your ear. “It is okay Luna, we will get you out of here and seen by a healer soon. Just rest.” What the hell did he just call you!?! Hearing that title directed at you from this betas lips has left you completely dumbstruck causing you to cease any half-assed attempt to flee.

A hair-raising growl rings out, drawing your attention away from the beta that is basically back hugging you, to the scene developing a few paces in front of you. Alpha Min has Darius lifted in the air with a hand around his throat, his last remaining beta positioned in a defensive stance between his leader and the two remaining alphas. But both Alpha Sharp and your father are motionless as if they have been paralyzed. It is an inconceivable thing to behold that would make you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind, if not for the shock that has seemed to grip everyone. Alpha Min, who is perhaps four inches shorter and weighing maybe thirty-five to forty pounds less than Darius, has his arm locked and raised completely above his head with your fathers chosen heir in his grasp. His wolf side has come forth through his eyes again and a fierce look on his face promising suffering to the man he is depriving of oxygen. 

Darius has both hands at work between gripping the hand attached to his neck trying to pry it off and slapping at the alphas arm attempting to break the hold. He has panic in his eyes and you wonder if this alpha, your fated mate, is about to kill him in front of all these packs. But Darius changes his efforts realizing due to the height difference just how close he is to the alphas body that has him hoisted in the air. He draws his right leg back with the intent to drive it into Alpha Min’s body, hopefully landing a blow that will cause the alpha to release him. But the now proven blessed alpha is quicker, right when Darius’s leg is drawn back as far as it can go and before he can propel it forward, Alpha Min swings his body and the arm that he is using to restrain Darius and launches him toward your father. 

Darius lands right at your fathers' feet and begins coughing with quick attempted inhales while clutching his neck. The man that has done his part in tormenting you for the last few years is curled on the ground looking as pitiful as he always tried to make you feel. Your father is glaring at Alpha Min with a look full of hatred. The younger alpha composes himself and looks to you in the arms of his beta before examining the rest of the situation at hand. At his nod the three betas that have been subduing your fathers' wolves release them and immediately two of them come over to guard you while the third joins the beta at his alphas side and resumes a defensive position. Alpha Sharp has disappeared from the area, probably to find his betas. You didn't think he would be one to abandon his closest ally and friend, but then again if he has figured out the implications of Alpha Min's words you do not know how he will take your fathers deception.

Your father has been bested and he knows it. If he tries to object to your mate taking you he will be outed and most likely killed with his head spiked onto a piece of wood from one of the many piles in the clearing. If he engages in a fight with the Bangtan pack there is no guarantee that he would come out victorious, in-fact with the display the younger alpha and three of his betas just demonstrated you father has no chance if he attacks head on. Not to mention in the midst of a mate gathering, spilling blood or killing will get your pack banned from future gatherings which would be detrimental to the pack. As it is right now, this skirmish can be concealed as two wolves disputing over a mate, which is not uncommon at gatherings and a believable excuse.  You see the moment your fathers expression changes to a beaten frustration, resigning himself to the inevitable outcome.  

You know that this isn't the end of it, your father will not go quietly and accept defeat so easily. He is probably currently fuming with rage over everything that has occurred this day. Your mate finding you and it being none other than the blessed Alpha Min Yoongi. Not being able to manipulate the situation and turn it in his favor, which he is an expert at. The embarrassment he is probably feeling over Darius’s failed attack and that he was defeated so easily. No, your father is going to yield and comply today so that he can regroup, come up with a sinister plan he can execute in the shadows, and be able to get away with. All of this deductive reasoning brings you to a horrifying realization, your father is going to let Alpha Min take you. He is going to take you and there is nothing that you can do to stop it, too weak to fight back and you hardly think he is the type to listen to you if you verbally refuse. 

The new wave of panic you feel is too much, you're breathing harder now. Ears ringing and your vision going in and out of focus, you know you are very close to passing out. It is all too much, you can't hold on for much longer. You feel arms tighten on you a fraction before you are being lifted with an arm around your back and another under your knees. You hear the beta carrying you, the one that named you his luna, call out to his alpha. Alpha Min has been staring down your father looking for the cue that there will be no further intervention from him or his pathetic protege, who is just now sitting up from the fetal position he was in. Upon hearing his beta, he glances to see you in the man's arms struggling to remain conscious.

“I’ve got her Jimin, we need to get her back to camp quickly and have the healer take a look at her.” Those are the words that you hear but it all sounds hazy, like you are underwater and there is a loud boom coming from above. You feel slightly jostled as you are being transferred from one pair of arms into another. Oh. These arms smell nice. In your unaware state, you find yourself shifting your head to bury your face where the scent is strongest. Nose pressed directly against skin, you inhale and begin to feel your entire body relax as it sinks further into the depths of a comatose like state. It smells like comfort, like settling into a warm comfy bed after a long day. It is utter relief. The last thing your senses pick up on before you are plunged completely under is a rumbling coming from the soothing scent, and you think it means contentment.

#bts #bangtan #yoongi #yoongi mate #suga #fanfic #fantasy #fated mates #bts army #werewolf #min yoongi #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #park jimin #x reader #werewolves #alpha yoongi

[tinietaehyun]

The Case [Series] ¡! ❞

[Detective!Taehyun x Assistant!Reader ] [Case Archives]

Pairing: Detective!Taehyun x Assistant!Reader.

Contains: romance, fluff, profanity (heavy), manipulative language/behaviour, gaslighting, mentions of violence/blood, murder.

If you don’t like murder-mystery, this fic is probably not for you! This has plenty of romance but also plenty of mystery!

If not to your taste check out my masterlist.

> This is the Case archives [Series List] where you can find all the parts of this series in one place!

[ I’d thought it would be a lot easier and not take up so much room on my Masterlist! ]

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Synopsis:

The death of the star detective’s long time partner had shaken the populace. The crime in the city was at an all time high despite the almost near perfect conviction rate. So what was not adding up?

You knew Taehyun was not one to open up easily and surely the loss of his closest friend didn’t help. However, the closer you looked at all the details surrounding the victim’s murder, an awful realisation hits you.

Just make sure you don’t become the next victim before you seek justice. He’d always be one step ahead.

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1. The Case of a Lover’s Blunder

╰┈➤ Ace Detective Kang Taehyun is known for solving every single case he receives so effortlessly. He’s a master detective with a flourishing assistant who takes crime fighting ever so seriously, but what happens when a case becomes particularly personal?

2. The Case of Betrayal in the Rain [ft. Yeonjun]

╰┈➤ Choi Yeonjun was in grave danger. He knew too much and now had no choice but to run before he found out. His heart was broken to pieces; someone so close...how could they be so cruel? The taste of betrayal was far from sweet. That was for sure.

3. The Case of a Lover’s Epiphany [ft. Beomgyu]

╰┈➤ You couldn’t look at him the same. Everything made too much sense. He was right, this seemed to be more than a coincidence. The man you knew was a mere facade. It appears you had gotten trapped in this twisted game of his.

From being oblivious and blissfully ignorant, you were now going to get to the bottom of this. Even if it meant the cruelest heartbreak you’d ever experienced.

4. The Case of Tragic Reminiscence

╰┈➤ Just who was this Beomgyu guy? Was he to be trusted? Your perception of your entire world seemed to be crumbling to pieces with the love of your life at the centre of it all!

Now as you begin to investigate and equip yourself with the knowledge of the past, you were ready to pave a new future where justice could prevail (with the help of your nuisance of a partner).

After all, the ace detective wasn’t the only one capable of putting on a facade. You could too.

5. The Case of The Detective’s Game

╰┈➤ His eyes gaze at the screen of the security footage on his laptop. Paranoia fills him. He had to investigate further. You were acting different, ever so slightly different. Perhaps a normal person wouldn’t have caught the subtle difference in behaviour, but he could. It was his job after all.

He watches as you scurry back to your seat before he enters into the office through the footage.

The detective’s lips form a cruel smirk, “Oh, and here I thought you’d last way longer than Yeonjun.”

6. The Case of The Chase

╰┈➤ Hopeless and terrified you peer at your phone screen. You hadn’t slept in days. Had you lost everything? Were you that bad at your job? The detective was now looming over you. All you had was Beomgyu by your side. Taehyun had challenged you outright and yet here you were huddled up in fear.

You peer at Beomgyu’s number. You rang three times. He’s still not picking up. A sickening dread fills you. God no. No way…

7. The Case of the Detective’s Heart

╰┈➤ His long brown locks, sharp eyes that stared at you with utmost softness accompanied with that smile which you sought more often than not. Your investigation progress was reaching its peak. It appears your feelings were also at their peak. Your feelings were beginning to mix into a messy concoction.

“Don’t you see the way I look at you, detective?”

8. The Case of a Pitiful Detective

╰┈➤ Everything around you was spinning; your eyes couldn’t leave his face filled with mixed emotions. His voice deepens as he steps forward, “I let you get this far, you’re only here because I let you get here. I could see through your facade, it was endearing to say the least.“

You remain quietly trembling; you weren’t expecting this turn of events. No, no you couldn’t believe his malicious words. You glare; your hands forming fists. A laugh escapes his coy lips, “It was an error to let you get this far. Allow me to fix that.”

9. The Case is Closed - FINALE

╰┈➤ Seoul had witnessed their greatest angel fall from grace. You had unmasked and peeled back the traitor in which you once held in your arms with love. Though, you didn’t know whether you’d be alive to see him pay those deliciously painful consequences.

Most of all, you hope that you wouldn’t have to leave your beloved partner: Beomgyu. Maybe one day, you’d wake up, or maybe you’d have to wait until he reached the skies above.

Would your effort thus far have paid off? You had to wake up.

“Wake up y/n…please. Please, y/n.”

You wanted to. You heard him. Wake up!

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop angst #kpop fanfic #txt x reader #tomorrow x together #txt #kang taehyun #txt angst #txt taehyun #txt x you #taehyun #taehyun fic #taehyun tomorrow x together #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #choi yeonjun #yeonjun

[bsxcrxts]

YEAHHHHHHHHHHH TECH THOTS TELL ME ALL ABOUT HIM can we delve into the sex pollen thing because I'm ultra curious

I actually had to take an entire day to gather my thoughts bc omg, I feel like he’s kind of a mystery??? but here are a couple of conclusions I’ve reached

minors dni and ages in bios pls

early on, has a hard time figuring out if you actually like him or not, mostly because he's ruminating on the logic of why it doesn't make sense that you would choose him. he knows he likes you, but Does Not enjoy when his brothers make comments about his crush on you. genuinely won't even look at them or respond, which is basically confirmation for him (he doesn't realize this)

reserved, until he isn't. has a tendency to talk in purely scientific terms unless the two of you are in relative privacy. doesn't really like excessive PDA very much but will hold your hand especially in a crowd. Secretly feels a sense of pride if you lean your head on his shoulder

prefers to be communicated with directly so he can't reason his way out of his feelings. once you actually properly confess to him it's like a lever gets flipped in his brain

this man does not half-ass anything. ever. and that extends to his sex life

by that I mean I think he will truly try anything once, even if he doesn't already have an inclination that he'd like it, he'll try it anyway for you, and make some corny comment about the scientific process about it

equally submissive and dominant. a true switch if I've ever seen one

possessive. this post is already so long otherwise I'd elaborate but I fear I’d ramble. someone ask me about it

his primary love language is acts of service but of course it’s his own little spin on it of course. let him fix your datapad, tinker little inventions for you, if you need to go somewhere he’ll walk with you or pilot you there, he just wants to do things for you. His brothers are kinda flabbergasted because getting him to break his concentration for them is crazy difficult but if you ask him 👀

I have to stop there for general thoughts but I have a lot more headcanons but I wanna get into the sex pollen thing so!!

I can honestly see so many possible scenarios omg

let's start with what happens if you're not together and you happen to accidentally get hit with sex pollen on a mission

Tech is probably one of the only ones who knows the full extent of the effects of the pollen, and he's worried about you :( not because he doesn't know the solution (it's obvious to him what has to happen) but because you're clearly in discomfort

kind of floored that you want to fuck him and not just anyone to satiate the pollen. not to get randomly into his psychology on a sex pollen prompt, but I think Tech has a lot of self assurance (maybe even an ego) about certain things he knows he's good at and has other things he fully expects his brothers to be "the obvious choice" for

but he's not going to argue with you about it. maybe quickly verify that you're actually sure but that's all

gets really affectionate with you really quickly under this specific circumstance. normally he'd be a bit more restrained about calling you pet names or whatever but he's trying to reassure you a bit, so if he calls you love or good girl... well...

I would probably be prepared for this to spark a relationship with him after some embarrassment on both your ends. but I don't think he can fuck you for the first time in those circumstances and get over it very easily lol

okay alternatively... I fully believe during the duration of your relationship, he's accidentally fucked up and doused himself with sex pollen or a strong aphrodisiac somehow

he strikes me as a person who collects things "in case" or "to run experiments on later" in general so I can absolutely see him having random things around that are unknown levels of dangerous

and like. whoops. that random powder he picked up three systems ago that he meant to identify got knocked over, and is now all over his bunk

tries to deal with it alone. fails

goes to you kind of sheepishly and describes what happened

as if you wouldn't be happy to help him

at least he knows what the purpose of the powder is now?

after you've fucked it out of his system, he IS devious enough to think about the possibility of distilling it to be wayyy less strong and use it in the bedroom occasionally. for fun instead of necessity lol

#please if you are lurking and have tech thoughts my inbox is open #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech smut #feral thirsty for him in a way that will embarrass me laterrrr #tech ♥️ #tech smut

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Hand in Hand (part seven)

@whumptober Alt. 11: Panic

cw: aftermath of whump, migraine, adult language, death mention

prev ///// au masterlist ///// next

~ ~ ~

It's been three days since the punishment.

Three days since he hurt Wes and abandoned him in the cell. Nowhere near enough time for the memories, the screams, to fade. The screams he'd caused.

Dan has spent most of the time lying down. It isn't by choice. After his escape attempt, Swift saw fit to increase security measures. If he isn't being escorted by armed guards, he's chained to the bed, arms splayed out in such a way that he couldn't pick the locks if he tried. Not that he has.

He has a headache that started the moment the cell door closed behind him, and it's only gotten stronger with every passing hour. He could tell himself it's just an effect of lying down for so long, of the beating, of dehydration, of insomnia. Maybe any one of those is true. But it feels like his body is punishing him.

His skull throbs, his eye sockets pulse with a fresh pain any time he even twitches, and he deserves it.

Even though, logically, he knows he had no choice.

You could've paid attention when you were trying to escape. You could've gotten him out.

It was bad luck, he argues back. It couldn't be helped.

You could've fought them. You would've stood a chance.

That would only make things worse. Wes might be dead now if I had.

You should've let him die day one.

Even though the thought is his own, it's like having a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Dan physically tenses, trying to push it away, whimpering at the spike of pain in his head that comes with the effort.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what can he do? Can he do anything? Even if he's a model prisoner from now on, does anything Swift asks and more, earns back the simple freedom of being able to fucking move, what will that do? He'll be no better off than he was before, when he tried and failed. And even if he could get lucky the second time around, Wes is running out of time. If Swift doesn't kill him, his injuries will. Fuck!

His breathing is getting faster and faster as the true hopelessness of the situation sets in. Every time, it feels like he's drawing in less air. He can't do anything, he can't do anything. It's the most helpless he's ever felt.

Betrayed by his men. Locked up and starved and hurt and hurt and hurt. Unable to do anything but watch as the one person in the universe he still has is slowly tortured to death. And anything he does to try and fix things only makes everything worse. He has no control here. He has nothing but whatever misery Swift graces him with.

The thoughts only stop barraging him when the pain in his head makes it impossible to think. Dan lays as still as he can on the bed then, tries to swallow his sobs, tries to blink away the tears and simply breathe deeply.

In, one-two.

Out, one-two.

He repeats the simple counts until he can almost think clearly again.

Hope isn't lost, not yet. He'll think of something, he always thinks of something. Maybe...

Maybe he can get a weapon. Maybe, as bad a shape as he's in, he can take the guards by surprise the next time they come knocking. Get a gun. Make it to Wes, make it to a ship.

It's a desperate bid, and the chances of it working are slim to none, but it's all he has.

Despite everything, Dan tries to make his body relax. It's tedious work. Unclench his jaw, let his face go slack, try to soften the muscles in his shoulders, in his torso, in his legs.

If this is his last chance, he can't let anything he still has some kind of control over get in the way. He keeps breathing, slow and steady, closes his eyes, and waits.

~ ~ ~

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast @kixngiggles @shywhumpauthor

#whumptober2023 #no.14 #altprompt #panic #oc #fic #migraine tw #aftermath of whump #death mention tw #riotkingsau #restrained #losing hope #captivity whump #multiple whumpees

[lucienarcheron]

Quiet Thunder - II [ Elucien ]

Prompt: This is a follow-up to part one of Quiet Thunder where Lucien expresses his frustrations to Elain post-ACOFAS. This is the Elain follow-up. |

Rating: SFW

Elain took a deep breath of a new day in Velaris. She paused in the busy streets and her eyes darted around the buildings, the color, and the different kinds of people roaming around her. 

Would she ever feel like she belonged? A lump formed in her throat and she tried to swallow it as she walked on. Elain tried. She tried to fit in and stay busy and be happy but every time she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt nothing but shame. 

Shame for who she had been. Shame for who she was now. Shame for allowing herself to cope in the only way she knew how, by ignoring it. 

Everything was different and yet, the same. 

She took another deep breath and walked on, her fingers gently rubbing the tip of her right ear; a new habit she had picked up when nervous. A habit that only kept reminding her of the differences in her body. A body that was hers yet not, a body she was still getting to know all over again.

Elain walked on, past the busy streets into a quieter neighborhood, where each of the houses burst with personality. She saw one, two, and three-story homes, with yards, picket fences, gardens, and treehouses. She smiled at those who smiled at her and nodded at those who didn’t. 

Would she ever get used to being so known like this? Would she go back to enjoying socializing and welcoming people into her life?

Elain sighed, as she did so often these days, and finally stopped in front of one particular home. A quaint, cottage-like home with a modest gate, surrounded by greenery. Wildflowers lining a white fence. Her heart thudded and her throat bobbed.  It was so lovely. 

Elain swallowed then slowly made her way to the front door of his home and stood. 

She stood and stood and stood. 

Elain stood, eyeing the white door and she wondered how long she’d been standing there; ten minutes or ten months.

It had been about three weeks since he’d come to see her and said all that he said to her but she hadn’t heard from him since. She may have only been standing in front of his home for these few minutes, but deep down, Elain knew she had been standing still in all aspects of her life for so much longer. 

“Feel better. Find me when you do.”

The words echoed in her mind now as she stood, rooted to her spot. Thinking back on the past year and some, so many things had just happened to her in her life and she had stood, passively letting it by. Had she just been lying in wait then? Waiting for something to push her story forward? To force her into action? 

She shook her head then and bit her lip. What was she so afraid of? He was giving her a choice. A chance. Free reins. He had made it clear from the very beginning, he wanted nothing more than a conversation and gave her the choice to decide when.

“If you don’t want anything to do with me, then that’s fine, but we need to discuss that.”

A decision she had the right to make. A choice given back to her to move her life forward, on her own terms. 

“I didn’t ask for this either and I’m not looking for you to love me. I’d just like to at least be your friend.”

A friend. A friend that would be tethered to her soul. 

Feyre had mentioned he was back in Velaris for the time being, to visit, to work, she wasn't sure. Elain had stopped listening after Feyre had announced his return, the first one of his since she last saw him. She had shot up and had finally decided — actually, decided on her next move. No one had questioned it.

As she stood here now, her grip tightened around the bouquet of flowers she had put together to give to him. Her gaze dropped to the rainbow of color in her hand; it was a mix of Scarlet Geranium, White Poppy, asphodel, and purple hyacinth. She tried to pick flowers that would express how she felt; there wasn’t a language she spoke as fluently as when she spoke in flower. 

She hoped he could translate her apology but then again, Elain wondered if he’ll even want anything from her. After all, she hadn’t been very kind to him.

“The least you could grant me, us, is a chance to talk about this.”

Elain closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Maybe she should go back. She didn’t know what she’d even say to him. What would they even talk about? Was there a point in moving forward if you didn’t know what direction to go?

“Elain?”

His scent hit her as she whirled around and found him standing a few feet back, a bag of goods in his hand. He blinked at her in surprise and she instantly flushed.

“Hello.” she said, eyes darting all around them before settling on him again and she held the flowers out. “These — these are for you.”

Once again, Lucien blinked at her in surprise and Elain’s flush deepened.

“Oh!” he said and hesitantly reached out to take them. “Thank you...I, um — hello.”

Their fingers brushed as he took the bouquet from her and the two shuddered. She eyed Lucien and by the look on his face, he had felt the shock of the touch too.

She curled a loose strand of hair behind her ear then clasped her hands together, took a small breath, and stepped back. “Feyre said it had been a while since you’ve been back to this home here. I figured flowers could...brighten it up.”

Elain watched him look down at the flowers silently and hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until he chuckled softly and she loosened a sigh of relief.

“Thank you. I appreciate the thought.” he replied, meeting her gaze. “I went to replenish a few missing things.” He paused and she noticed how his fingers tightened around the bouquet as a moment of silence passed between them, then, “Would you like to come in?”

Elaine blinked. “Come in?”

“Yes.”

“Inside your home?”

“...Yes?”

 “...I don’t know if that’s proper.” she said breathlessly and watched his mouth slip into an ever so slight frown. “Unless!” she quickly added and he blinked. “Unless...it’s fine?”

“Of course it is.” he replied softly, his brows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Elain bit her lip as she glanced at him. Their eyes met and they both immediately flushed again when his gaze narrowed on her lips. “I don’t know what the social etiquette rules here are.” she whispered. “I don’t want to overstep.” 

Lucien gave her a smile of understanding. “You could never overstep.” he said softly and she nodded silently, brows furrowed.  

A heartbeat of silence passed then,

“So... you want me to come inside your home?” she asked hesitantly, feeling her face heat all over again.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.” he said with a small smile. “Did you think I’d have you at my door and not invite you in? Terrible manners that would be, wouldn’t it?”

She gave him an awkward smile. “To be completely honest...I hadn’t thought about what would happen after I got here.”

Lucien paused then, gazing at her, his eyes locked on hers and Elain felt a tingling sensation — as though he could see right through her. Right through her jumbled thoughts. She watched him nod, seemingly to himself then walked past her to open his door, gesturing for her to go in.

“If this is your way of instigating a night of sweet lovemaking, I’m afraid you’ll have to invite me for dinner first.” he replied with a cheeky smile. 

Elain froze mid-step, her eyes widened and her face flushing even deeper than before. Lucien’s eyes found hers and his expression shifted from a smile to horror, his body going rigid. 

“Oh gods.” he whispered and immediately straightened. “I’m so sorry Elain, I was only joking —I do it when I’m nervous — very inappropriate — I don’t want to make you uncomfortable – it was just — ”

But he stopped as she started giggling. 

Lucien watched her giggle uncontrollably, doubling over and his lips twitched, unsure of what to make of it.

“I thought I insulted you but I suppose I really am as hilarious as I think I am.” he said with a brow raised. “The idea of us making passionate love is just hysterical, hm?”

Elain sighed, wiping her eyes. He had caught her so off-guard with his statement, her own reaction surprised her. The man she’d been ignoring for over a year now was making jokes with her! About the two of them! Being intimate! 

The two stood and looked at each other, taking in the lightness of the moment. That he had made her laugh. It brought back the memory of the first time he had inspired a smile out of her.

“Of all the things I thought you’d say, that was definitely not it.” she finally said, looking away from him shyly. “I — it’s not very proper though, is it?”

“Mmm.” he mused, then chuckled. “Proper is selective in my arsenal but I’ll be sure not to scandalize you further with my jokes. I can be a gentleman for you.”

“I would think being yourself is the best policy.” she replied with a small chuckle and finally stepped into his home. Her eyes darted around his living space, taking it all in.

“Are you saying if I am being a gentleman, I’m not being myself?” he asked with mock offense and Elain snorted.

“Based on the things I’ve heard from Feyre? It’s debatable.”

“Asking Feyre about me, are you?” Lucien asked teasingly and Elain rolled her eyes. “I knew my wily charms would eventually come through.”

“There’s the snark I was warned about.” she muttered and he chuckled. 

Elain felt his eyes on her as she continued to scan his home. It wasn’t too cluttered. It was kept tidy and everything in the space had a practical use. Without having to look at him, she could tell her assessment was making him nervous.

“Is it alright if I close the door or should I leave it open in case you want to run after I crack another inappropriate joke?” 

Elain rolled her eyes, then turned to meet his gaze, her cheeks rosy once more. “I’m here, aren’t I? I made the choice to be.”

Lucien hummed softly and walked past her, placing both the bags and flowers on the small dining table. He paused then, “Yes. You did make the choice to come.” he said and braced his hands on his kitchen counter, clearing his throat. “But, forgive me for asking so bluntly and right away but — why are you here?”

Elain’s brows furrowed and she looked down, thinking exactly how to answer that. A moment passed then she looked at him, patiently waiting for her response. 

“You told me to feel better and then come find you.” she said quietly. “So I’m here. To talk.”

Lucien slowly nodded. “To talk.”

“Yes.”

He watched her and it unnerved her how assessing his eyes seemed to be, how assessing his eyes had been from the moment he saw her. Elain had often wondered just how the mating bond worked and had asked Rhys and Feyre so many times... but it didn’t quite make sense as much as it did at this moment. 

When he gave her a small smile and she felt a warm jolt in her chest. 

“Talking is one of my favorite things to do. I do love the sound of my own voice.” he replied with another one of his cheeky grins. “Are you hungry? I could make us something quick if you’d like. Or we can have a cup of tea?”

“I think tea would be lovely.” she said, a small smile and he nodded.

Elain watched him quietly as he moved about his kitchen and it was when she noticed the slight tremble in his hands as he filled the kettle she realized how awkward it must feel for him and how hard he was trying to make her feel comfortable. 

Elain could try and meet him halfway. She was a social butterfly. She could diffuse the awkward.

“Do you have powers — I mean abilities?” she blurted out and Lucien paused. “I think fire, yes?’

His lips twitched and Elain flushed at how silly the question was. Social butterfly indeed.

 “Yes, I do. Fire manipulation is one of them.”

She pursed her lips at the teasing smile he gave her. “Can you heat up the kettle without using actual fire then?” she asked, pointing as she moved closer to inspect. 

Lucien tilted his head as he watched her stand closer to him. Without taking his eyes off her, he put down the kettle then touched it and Elain watched in fascination as steam started emerging from it and then heard the bubbling of the boiled water.

“That must be handy.” she said lamely. 

“Please Elain, settle down. What will the neighbors think if they hear how inappropriately you’re flirting with me?” 

Elain scoffed and playfully shoved him then immediately froze at the contact. She slowly looked up at him and when he smiled at her she felt her whole body heat up.

“Sorry.” she mumbled and stepped back but Lucien only chuckled in response and playfully bumped her with his shoulder. 

“No apologies needed. Let me set up the tray and then we can sit outside by the garden.”

“You have a garden?” she asked and Lucien watched her whole face light up in excitement.

He paused then rubbed his neck with a sheepish smile. “It’s not in the best shape at the moment, considering I travel often but I had started growing some plants and vegetables,” he said then gestured with a hand. “Maybe you can give me some ideas on how to fix it? I know you enjoy gardening.”

“I’d love to!” Elain beamed then curled a hair behind her ear, her cheeks rosy. “It could be a fun project to work on — if you want to.” she began, gushing. “I really love the organization process of setting up a new space and knowing which plants to put next to what and you seem to have good space back there and —” 

But then Elain froze again. 

Had she just casually offered to work on a project with him? Someone she’d been actively avoiding for a year? 

She blinked.

Why was it so easy? 

She glanced at him, for Lucien had paused in place, watching her and Elain swallowed, her heart thundering. 

Why was it so easy to slip into a comfortable conversation? To joke? Like they were old friends?

“Because it’s supposed to be easy.” he answered her quietly and Elain startled, not realizing she had spoken the words to him. Lucien hesitantly reached out to curl that same strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of place in her excitement. “It’s okay, Elain.”

Elain watched him swallow and bring his hands back to his sides. Watched his hands flex then fist.

“I’d ask you how you could be so calm about this but I can feel your heart beating.” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I felt it the moment you set foot in Velaris.” 

“My body is in a constant state of fight or flight.” he said with a shaky laugh, running his own hand through his hair. “Calm is something I’m still getting used to.”

Elain looked at him then, really looked at him. She had always avoided looking at him directly but now, in a feeling she wasn’t entirely sure she was in control of, she stared bluntly. She let her gaze take in his fiery red hair, his sun-kissed skin, his one russet eye and his other metal one that was widened as he watched her watching him. Elain’s eyes scanned the scar on his face and her teeth clenched at the sight of it. 

But then she blinked. She had no right to be angry about it. They were hardly acquainted and yet...the tug between them was taut, clear as day. 

Elain watched him swallow again then casually gesture towards his eye. “Jurian likes to make a joke that if I add an eye patch, I’d make one heck of a pirate.” 

Another attempt at humor for her sake.

The corner of her mouth lifted. “You’d be a very eye-catching pirate, I’d think.” 

Lucien chuckled, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Elain, please control yourself. If not dinner, at least take me out for lunch before propositioning me. I’m willing to be a mid-day harlot if asked nicely.”

Elain huffed out an unexpected laugh then rolled her eyes at him. “You’re very arrogant.”

“Not annoying?” he asked cheekily and she snorted. 

“That too but arrogant felt more polite.”

“Polite with a bit of a bite, hm?” he asked again with a quirked brow and both her brows raised.

“I am a civilized lady.” she replied, the corner of her mouth lifting. “My bites aren’t so bad.”

“Hm.” he mused with a smirk. “In my experience, civilized ladies tend to have the strongest sting.” 

“Mmm.” she mused in return, glancing at him through her lashes. “Have a lot of experience with civilized ladies then?”

Lucien gave a casual shrug. “So, so.” he said and studied her. “But I do have to say, I haven’t met any like you.”

Elain paused then, realizing again how easy it was to — to flirt with him. She gave him a thin smile. “You mean one who is your...your mate?” she said with a bite to her tone.

“Definitely not, no.” he said softly.

And just like that, Elain felt the air become tense between them again and frowned in the silence that followed. She swallowed, unsure, and met her mate’s gaze. Lucien gestured gently towards the back door.

“Why don’t we head out to the garden and talk things out?”

Elain nodded tightly then made her way outside, a finger rubbing the tip of her right ear again. Her eyes flickered back to him and she bit her lip, watching him take a deep breath, his hands shaky once more. Taking in her own deep breath, Elain let her gaze scan his backyard space as she assessed her emotions. He had a small seating area but it was mostly neat with small semi-alive plants and vegetable patches. 

She took a seat. How was she feeling? Nervous? 

Definitely not as nervous as she had expected. He was as courteous as he’d always been. He was patient and seemed very kind. Lucien was funny and wasn’t pushy at all. He was trying so hard to make her comfortable. So why did she feel shame that it wasn’t going terribly? Shame that she didn’t mind sitting in his garden and waiting to talk to him? 

Shame as she thought of the man she once loved glaring at her in disgust for what’d she become. For even considering the option of accepting Lucien for what he was to her. 

“I feel it too, you know.”

Elain turned her head to see him approaching, a small tray in hand that carried tea and an assortment of cookies. 

“Feel what?” she asked, fiddling with her fingers, avoiding his gaze now. 

“Your shame. It feels nearly as crippling as mine.” he said quietly and slowly took a seat opposite her. She looked up at him.

“What do you have to be ashamed about?” she whispered and Lucien gave a humorless chuckle.

“My whole life has been a cascading waterfall of shame.” he said bitterly and Elain assessed his anger, his clenched fists. It was a moment before he spoke again and his hands relaxed. “I’ve lived with shame long enough to be able to tell you, with confidence, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Elain shook her head and gave him a sad smile. “I can’t stop thinking about him. His disgusted face the last time he saw me. How he ignored me after. I loved him enough that it’s given him so much power over how I view myself. He doesn’t know how much power he has over me and I allowed that. He definitely doesn’t care...but he still has power over how I view myself because I gave him so much of my love... How can you say I have nothing to be ashamed of?”

Lucien gave her a gentle smile. “Being so in love that you trust your partner to give them your world isn’t something to be ashamed of. He should be ashamed for letting blind prejudices take away from what you two had.”

Elain blinked rapidly, her lips trembling slightly and she avoided his gaze once more. He was understanding her too easily, feeling what she felt too easily. “I know I seem naive in my view of it but...before this all happened, I had already envisioned our life together. He...let that go. Maybe it’s because it was my first love that I’m taking it so hard but — but he should’ve fought harder for me.”

Lucien sat back, arms resting in his lap, his expression thoughtful. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve thought of anyone but her.” he said quietly. “She’s always in the back of my mind, even when I’ve attempted to take new lovers and it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone who views love the way it should be viewed. As something so pure. It’s refreshing.” 

She shrugged, not feeling particularly insightful at all. Every time she thought of Graysen now, Elain only felt stupid. 

Lucien leaned forward and tapped the table gently to get her attention and she met his gaze. “You know, I can feel whatever it is you’re feeling,” he said. “Nothing you feel is stupid. Your first love will always have a special memory or teach a specific lesson. Either way, it leaves a mark that you’ll remember.”

Elain looked at him, taking in his expression, and gently asked, "I thought...I thought mates couldn't handle talking about other partners. That you'd — you wouldn't take this well."

Lucien pursed his lips, brows furrowed. "I'm not a heathen without any self-restraint. You're also not an object that I own." he simply said. "I'd be an idiot to think someone as beautiful as you wouldn't have had any previous lovers, as did I."

Elain looked down, embarrassed of her assumption and of her question. Why had she just assumed he'd be awful to her? Why didn't she —

"It's okay, Elain." he said gently, cutting into her spiraling thoughts. "You can ask whatever you want. I'd be more than happy to answer."

She nodded and then softly asked, “Will it always be like that? You aware of how I feel?”

He nodded slowly. “Part of the bond’s magic is that you and your mate have a connection so deep and sacred, nothing will ever compare. You’re essentially two sides of the same coin, always in touch.” he explained and paused momentarily, licking his lips. “This past year...especially because I went in and out of Velaris often...I am very aware of how it has been for you.”

“Would this connection remain even if...even if the bond was rejected?”

Elain watched him flinch at the question and felt herself wince, knowing how touchy this was based on Rhys and Feyre’s explanations.

It took Lucien a few moments before he finally swallowed and answered quietly. “Even if the bond is rejected, the link is always there.”

It was a tense quiet before Elain broke the silence. Feeling like she owed him honesty, she only said, “I’ve been aware of how you felt as well but...I always ignored it.”

“I know.” he said with a sad smile. 

“It was never about ignoring you as it was...ignoring the situation.” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. It hasn’t been fair to you.”

“No, it hasn’t.” he agreed and the two sat in silence once more as Elain attempted to express exactly how she was feeling. She looked at him and when he gave her an encouraging smile, she flushed.  

“With everything that happened since the cauldron and everything that was taken from me and then given to me…” she quietly began then paused, curling a hair behind her ear. “Having you as my mate felt — it felt like another thing I had to take without having a say in. It felt like — as though — “

Elain paused again, anger flaring suddenly and she clenched her teeth. “I was in a body that was my body but not, with powers I didn’t understand and suddenly I had now become the possession of a man I didn’t know.”

“I have never once thought of you as a possession and will never think of you that way.” Lucien said softly. 

“While I appreciate you saying that...it still felt that way for me. Especially when I started realizing how the bond works. You...you made me feel things that felt against my will.” she whispered. “I didn’t like it that these instincts I wasn’t familiar with were taking charge with someone I knew nothing about and someone I wasn’t ready to know.”

“It can be very overwhelming.” he agreed. 

“Very.” Elain said with a frown. “Do...do you feel that way?”

Lucien chuckled and gave her a tight nod. “It’s worse for males. This stupid idea that we’re supposed to resonate with our animalistic tendencies and claim, protect. But I am not these tendencies nor will I ever let myself fall to them. I am more than that and you are more than that.”

Elain shied away from his firm gaze, understanding what he was trying to tell her. What he had been trying to tell her for the past year and it was as she sat in his garden, the sun shining down on the two of them that she finally understood. She looked up and closed her eyes for a brief moment, letting herself bask in the sun, as if it was here at this specific moment to remind her how much she needed this conversation to happen.

She’d spent the last year looking for the sun and trying to stand in it but it was only here, Elain actually felt it on her skin, warming her up.

“This feels nice.” she said quietly and opened her eyes to give him a smile, finding him watching her, slight awe on his face.

Once again, she felt the bond between them as he gazed at her but it didn’t feel as daunting as it had before.

Lucien looked away from her, a flush in his own cheeks. “Yes...it does. I do like it here. It’s the first home that’s actually mine.” he said with a small smile. “I’m not living on anyone’s property but my own for once.”

“You don’t feel lonely in it?” she asked, facing him fully for the first the time since they sat, her arms resting on the table.  

Lucien quirked his head in thought. “I think…” he began. “I think inherently, I’ve always been lonely. I was always on my own in the Autumn Court and the Spring Court was a little better but not great. I was Emissary and it was wonderful working with many different people but I also never felt like I belonged anywhere or was tied to one place. Except when I met Jesminda and then…” he waved his hand and Elain understood. He’d rather not dive into those memories.

She hesitated for a moment then, “I always felt a little lost in the middle between Nesta and Feyre. They’re both so strong and have such distinctive personalities. I was always just...the middle sister. Until I met Gray — until I met him.”

“You felt seen.” Lucien said, a knowing look on his face. “You felt understood.”

“Yes.”

“I know. I did too.” he said with a sad smile. “She saw me for all that I was and all that I could be.”

Elain’s sad smile met his. “She was the person you loved most, wasn’t she?”

“She was, yes.” he said quietly and Elain nodded.

“He was that for me. He saw me. He saw that there was more to me. He listened to things I had to say...it was easy with him. I thought he loved me.” she choked out bitterly. “He may have hated fairies but I was still me...still me just with pointy ears.”

Lucien gave her a half-smile at the attempt at humor, despite the shakey tone with which she said it.

“It turns out he didn’t see me after all.” Elain whispered and before Lucien could stop himself, he reached over, placing a hand on top of hers, and squeezed gently. Despite any initial reservations she had about him, Elain squeezed his hand back and took a deep breath. 

“Now I’m lost all over again...I’m trying to find my way back to myself. The old me isn’t enough anymore.” she continued with a shrug. “I’m too angry for it. The life I had and wanted was ripped away from me and I had no say. With everything that happened after, I still had no say and I hate it. I’m still processing and coming to terms with it...I have so much more to offer and deserve more. I — I don’t want to be reduced to just your mate. I want to learn how to be brave, brave to be me with all the changes that have happened.”

A breath rushed out of her as she spoke, the words she had been wanting to say for so long. They came out strong, clear, and Elain felt a rush of pride that she had not flinched away from him as she spoke. Felt a weight off her shoulders.

Lucien squeezed her hand once more with another encouraging smile, as if he too, had felt the pride she felt for herself. “Bond or no bond, Elain — this is what I want for you and for myself. You may be my mate but you are your own person first and foremost. I am my own person first and foremost.” he said firmly. “I’ve lived my whole life trying to be molded into what others want from me and now, I want to spend it on what I want for myself. If we decide to be mates, I want you to choose me. To be with me as I am. I’m not here to convince anyone to love me. I want to be a choice and deserve to be a choice. I am not a burden on you or anyone else.”

“But that’s what I want too!” she said, leaning forward and tightening her grip on his hand. “I don’t want this to be something we do because we have to, but because we want to. I need something this significant to be on my terms, something I decide. Something we decide together.”

“That’s all I’ve been trying to tell you since I met you.” he said with a small chuckle. 

“I know.” she said quietly, her cheeks heated. “I’m sorry I didn’t give room for it to be discussed. I was — am scared.”

“Don’t apologize. I understand.” he said. “There’s nothing I want more than for this to be a comfortable experience for us both. This is...new and different for me too. The mating bond will be what we decide on, as you said, together. I expect nothing more from you than conversation and friendship...if that’s something you’re open to. This will be at your pace. We can be brave together.”

She smiled at him then her gaze fell on their interlaced hands and she thought about this all for a moment. The idea of a mate didn’t have to be something burdensome or heavy. It could be friendship. It could be more. It could be nothing. They would decide it. 

A sense of ease washed over her, pleasantly surprised that he, Lucien — her mate, was the cause of it. This male who she had thought would be the cause of discomfort in her life had taken all her worries about this bond and eased them in one conversation. 

“I am open to that. I’d like to get to know you as a friend first.” Elain said with a shy smile.

“Elain please, calm yourself. What will the neighbors think?” he said with a grin and Elain laughed softly, pulling her hand away and slapping his lightly.

“They’re going to think the tea went cold and we haven’t even touched the cookies.”

“I can fix that.” he said, his grin widening as he pushed the plate of cookies towards her and let his hand settle on the teapot to heat it.

Elain rolled her eyes and chuckled. “I bet you work that trick into everything you do.”

“Stick around and you’ll find out soon enough, friend.”

She looked at him then, her gaze as firm as his, the two smiling at each other shyly. Elain thought back to the first moment she felt the tug from him, long ago in the House of Wind. It had been a strange sensation and at that point in her life, an unwelcome one. 

Elain found now, she didn’t mind the idea of having a friend that was tied to her soul. A friend that would understand her in a way no one else ever would. A friend that could...later on, be more. When she was ready. If they wanted to take that step. 

A step they would either take together or decide not to, together. A choice she would make. A decision she had the power in. 

Elain decided then that, no, she didn’t mind Lucien becoming her friend at all. In fact, as the sun continued to shine down on them and she basked in its warmth, she looked around his home and found herself at ease. As she looked at him, seated across from her, pouring her a cup of delicious-smelling tea, Elain found that she didn’t mind Lucien one bit. So she smiled again, taking the teacup he passed to her, and said, 

“I look forward to it, friend.”

#elucien #elucien fanfics #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #gfics #fic: quiet thunder #previously: moononastring

[doberbutts]

https://www.facebook.com/paw.man.3/videos/10204941441244710

Quite some time ago I referenced how primitive breeds often are very boundary dogs, often will be more willing to both draw and enforce boundaries, but also often are very good at resolving dog/dog conflict and tend to be very skilled with dog body language and overall are very “doggy” compared to modern breeds.

Here are two caucasian sheperds displaying exactly this, actually this video I had in mind when writing that paragraph. To be very clear: if my dogs did something to this extent, I would personally have separated them. This owner clearly either knows his dogs very well or trusts that they will not actually fight.

However I would say that while it’s never to this extent, I see echoes of this in the chihuahuas. Fae is a major resource guarder when it comes to food and chews [mostly ritualized], and Tater is a thief. Yet Tater usually ends up with Fae’s stuff, and Fae will back off and show avoidant and calming body language once Tater penetrates through Fae’s bluster. Tater will often do the same thing, approaching slightly off to the side, not actually meeting Fae’s gaze, and “under” Fae’s level typically crawling against the floor. Tater usually also has a fairly dramatic curve away from Fae with her body, presenting her butt towards the teeth first. But Fae will suddenly stop growling, drop what she has, and walk away allowing Tater to have her prize. She’ll then typically shake it off and disengage completely, or she’ll wait just off to the side for Tater to get bored while sniffing the ground, stretching, or scratching her ears/neck.

To my knowledge, Tater has never actually attacked Fae over anything, nor has Fae done the same. Fae does not try to take Tater’s things the way she does with the big dogs. And Tater is an equal opportunity thief that tries it with everyone, but the only dog she went after for stealing her things was Evander and that was because he snapped at her first.

(she also won that argument but w/e sure pick a fight with the dog literally three times your size and win I guess, Evander learned “fuck around and find out” normally comes with not liking the “find out” part that day)

It’s something I witness every now and again and it fascinates me. The entire conversations in dog that these two have with each other compared to my modernized swissy and dobe, who seem almost illiterate in comparison. Those two will have short, one-word conversations like “ow hurts” “oops sorry” and “FRIEND OR FOE” “friend?” “FRIEND! Play???” “play!!!!”

A similar video would have been when Fae was grouchy from spending all day at the vet and Tater wanted to play. There was an extended amount of “I would very much like you to play with me” “I love you but I do not want any of this right now” “pleeeeeeeeeease” “noooooooooooo” and yet despite the full mouth snarls and growls coming from Fae, the eventual choice was Fae choosing to de-escalate and go into grooming and appeasement until I separated Tater from her to give her some relief.

IDK. Just something I’ve noticed. Primitive breeds being more willing to “talk out” their conflicts and modern breeds being more willing to get the fight underway. It does make sense, many of these primitive breeds- CAS and chihuahuas included- are intended to work in a small but loose pack structure and infighting is a great way to die from infection due to wounds or starvation because too many of the pack has killed each other to be able to hunt. Not to say they don’t ever, just that I see many being more willing to try “talking about it” before they decided to fight about it instead.

[babylonad]

Babylon A.D. Script

"Save the planet."

Whenever I've read that bumper sticker,

I've had to laugh.

"Save the planet."

What for? And from what?

From ourselves?

Life's simple:

Kill or be killed,

don't get involved...

...and always finish the job.

The survivor's code.

My code.

And it all sounds great until the day

you find yourself confronted by a choice.

A choice to make a difference,

to help someone...

...or to walk away and save yourself.

I learned something that day.

You can't always walk away.

Too bad it was the day I died.

Get out here!

Come here!

Get back!

You remember me?

You sold me a gun that don't work!

You almost got me killed!

I paid $20 for this.

I want my money back.

Give me that.

This one's very good, very good.

Okay.

I owe you.

I'll save you some.

Hey, Toorop. Toorop.

Somebody came here looking for you.

Okay.

Boy, what a massacre.

At the peak of the rush hour,

bombs were detonated in...

Karl, is that you?

I thought you were in Sudan

killing babies.

Remember the last time we met?

I told you if you ever

point that gun at me again...

...l'd kill you.

Who would hire a baby killer

to get me?

Who?

No shit. If you wanted me dead,

you'd have blown up the building.

Who?

Gorsky.

Karl, you're a disgrace

to the profession.

You're not a mercenary,

you're a terrorist.

You need two things to live in this

business, your balls and your word.

You don't have either.

You know the difference

between you and me, Karl?

I still got both.

Take it easy.

Personal between him and me.

You are a hard man to find, Toorop.

I'm not hiding.

You could have knocked.

I needed to be sure

that you were the same idealist...

...who worked for me 10 years ago.

So you knew I was gonna kill Karl?

I don't like you, Gorsky.

You can't trust me

and I can't trust you.

Look at you.

Still in this shit hole, surviving.

No friends, no family, no future.

We are the same. You and me.

We're not the same.

What do you want?

I need a smuggler.

I don't do refugees anymore.

Use your own cargo.

- You own the borders anyway.

- Only on this side.

- This is an overseas delivery?

- A girl.

She needs to be in America

in six days.

Why are you playing with me?

You know I can't get back

into that country.

You know that U.N. passports

are impossible to fake.

This is not a fake.

Inject it in your neck

when you pass the official border.

This is your new life.

I'll do it for half a mil.

I can make you do it for free.

You can't make me do shit, Gorsky.

But you can pay me what I need

so I can get the job done right.

A car will pick you up outside.

Everything you need

will be in the trunk.

Cross me and you'll have no place

to hide anymore...

...Toorop.

It goes both ways...

...Gorsky.

Shit.

Good morning.

You must be Toorop.

I am Sister Rebeka.

I want to bring three simple rules

to your attention...

...before we start our journey.

We?

I'm here to pick up one girl.

Wherever she goes, I go.

That is rule number one.

Rule number two, the less contact she

has with the outside world, the better.

You're here to protect her

from outside influences.

That includes seeing,

hearing and feeling.

Now, it's a harsh world

out there, Sister.

I know. That is why we live in here.

Shit. Okay, what's your third rule?

No foul language.

Do we have an agreement?

You listen to my one and only rule.

Don't fuck with me...

...or I'll leave you standing

in the middle of nowhere...

...with nothing but your ass to sell

to get back here...

...your perfect world.

Do we have an agreement?

Obviously, you are not a gentleman.

Obviously not.

Now that we have an understanding,

pick up the bags.

No.

What's your name?

My name?

You don't have to talk to him.

You didn't introduce yourself.

My name is Toorop.

- Are you taking us to New York?

- Yes.

Now please get into the car.

Are you a killer, Mr. Toorop?

Look, lady. I'm just a delivery boy.

And to me you're just a package.

I'm not your friend, I'm not your brother,

I'm not your boyfriend.

In six days, I'm gonna deliver you

and never see you again.

Sister Rebeka's right.

We shouldn't even talk.

Come on.

Comfy?

Your Highness,

your child has left the convent.

At last.

Six days until we reveal our miracle

to the world.

Your Highness,

the press conference will begin shortly.

She's coming.

Let's pray.

Let's hurry up.

The train's gonna leave soon.

Take your bags.

Are you really going to need all that?

You can never have enough firepower,

Sister.

In fact...

Never touched a gun in my life.

Now would be the perfect moment

to start.

No, thank you. I can defend myself.

Stay close, this is the real world.

There's no mercy for the weak.

Just because we're peaceful,

that doesn't mean we're weak.

It does here.

Hurry.

Change.

What are you doing?

We've located the targets.

Contact New York.

Patch me through to Darquandier.

They found her.

Okay.

Be careful now.

Noelites would be watching too.

My daughter must not be harmed.

Put this on.

Come on.

I'm scared. Can I hold your hand?

Hold mine.

Hang on.

Okay, give me three.

Hey.

Where are you going?

What are you doing? Come on.

Hey.

Hey!

Hey, come here.

Hey!

[theartoflovingthomashunt]

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Happily Ever After

This family has my entire heart. Thomas and Alex have been such a source of comfort and joy for me over the past few years. Writing them means the world to me. I adore them more than I can say. Then came Bogart, who is the cutest, most fun pup to write for. And finally, my precious twins, Felicity and Vincent, whom I share my birthday with. I love them so much!!! 🥺😭😍💛

I can't thank the beautiful and amazing @/artbyainna on Instagram enough for this stunning family portrait.

Birthday Art #6 of 6 for my self-care birthday week + "birthday" for @choicesmonthlychallenge

[All Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer Masterlists] [Baby Hunt]

49 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

#4

Three years ago today, I decided to join this fandom and I am so glad I did!

I had reblogged things randomly from a non-choices blog and liked things on my personal account but I had never really interacted with anyone or participated in the fandom. When I was in elementary school, I definitely was writing fan fiction, but then as I got older people made me feel less because of it and I stopped writing. Then I found this fandom community and decided to take a risk and pick it back up again. I never expected anyone to read it!

I'm truly grateful to everyone who has ever read or supported my writing here or on any of my blogs. You will never know how much it means to me! Thank you!

So how does one celebrate? With more fan art, obviously! 😍😍😍

One thing I've loved to do is see how different artist bring Thomas and Alex to life and I couldn't be more excited with how this latest art came out!

This adorable chibi portrait is by arssel_land on Instagram 💛

Thank you again for all your love and support. You (and HAlex) have helped me survive the last 3 years on this crazy planet and for that I am eternally grateful! 💖💖💖

50 notes - Posted July 8, 2022

#3

The Best Kind of Distraction 💋

This gorgeous portrait of my forever OTP Thomas and Alex is by the always wonderful and talented @rosefuckinggenius!

I had a short drabble planned to go with it, but seeing as @choicesrcd2022 ends now-ish, I decided I should at least share the art. I'm hoping I can get time to write out the drabble tomorrow. 🤞

Prompts: @choicesdecember2022 kiss, @choicesrcd2022 distraction, @choicesholidays I’m so glad we found each other (always & forever)

[All Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer Masterlists] [Red Carpet Diaries]

50 notes - Posted December 10, 2022

#2

Thomas and Alex Hunt 💖💙

by @/hrhschreave on Instagram 

A couple of weeks ago I was lucky enough to win a commission from Amara in @/austie_romance 's 1,000 Follower giveaway. I am absolutely blown away by the talent and generosity of both of these lovely ladies. I can't thank them enough for making this portrait possible!

Prompts: one more (kiss) @choicesmonthlychallenge

[Masterlists: Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer]

52 notes - Posted May 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

"Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches...I have stayed these years in my hovel because of you. I have taught myself languages because of you. I have made my body strong because I thought you might be pleased by a strong body. I have lived my life with only the prayer that some sudden dawn you might glance in my direction. I have not known a moment in years when the sight of you did not send my heart careening against my rib cage. I have not known a night when your visage did not accompany me to sleep. There has not been a morning when you did not flutter behind my waking eyelids." ~The Princess Bride, William Goldman

Thomas and Alex enjoying a quiet afternoon rereading one of their favorite stories.

I can't even explain how much I am in love with them and this art. Ainna (@/artbyainna IG) is literally the most beautiful genius and never fails to impress . I will be here crying over this for a while. It is everything I hoped and more. Thomas and Alex's love is infinite, they spend everyday choosing each other no matter how good or bad things are and I will always chose them. They are my comfort pairing and my happy place. I will never get enough of them or their love.

[All Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer Masterlists] [Halex Commission tag]

62 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #thomas hunt #thomas hunt x mc #thomas hunt x oc #my art #my commissions #halex commission #alex hunt #alex spencer #lovealexhunt #december2022 #baby hunt #bogart hunt #my favorite family #my otp #my forever loves #my forever heart

[aohendo]

ello

i have a question actually if ya dont mind, how do you go about writing? just like in general, do you start before having a WIP intro, how soon do you start talking abt it/writing it, how much do you prep, literally all and any advice would be appreciated tysm <3

Hey, buddy!

I'm gonna preface this with the usual disclaimer of "what works for me might not work for you because human brains are squishy and cool" and all that good stuff. Pick and choose or completely disregard, as with all writing-related stuff, the choice is yours!

This is long, so hold onto your boots and here we go.

The concept stage is normally pretty straightforward for me. I'll be trying to take notes in class, at work, whatever, and my brain'll wander off and go "okay, but--but what about a giant pack-moose?" and bam, off I go (re. Prince for Hire). In this stage I'll normally develop the main character(s) or the situation/setting--whichever the stray thought fairy didn't grant. That'll usually take the form of scribbling out a few characters' names to get a sense of the time period/language-base (Kiris was the first character, but Iiriok Nelovskevouk of Dargoulvga was the first named character, and his name accordingly set my naming practices for the Novgor Plateau). If I had a character first, I'll come up with a setting/situation I think would challenge them. Once I have an idea of a character and situation (and realize, when I say "idea," it really might just be a name) I'll scribble out a page with that person/setting. So, for Prince for Hire, that makes the first scene I ever wrote for it Kiris escaping in a queen's bathtub across a giant lake because the queen just discovered he was a conman. Did I keep that scene? Myeh.

Nominally from there I'll try and rough out a plot. Having spent considerable time reworking Attenuate/Reverberate because I didn't rough in a plot, this is the one step I really would recommend you consider doing. By "rough out", I mean I came up with a few vague plot points. For Prince for Hire, there are only four I'm working with: 1) Kiris enters the competition to rule the Plateau; 2) Kiris teams up with Batar and eliminates the competition; 3) Iiriok is accused of being an imposter, convinces the empress otherwise, and Kiris volunteers to help Iiriok find the imposter; 4) Iiriok wins. Not much of an outline, really. But I've found that if I try and get any more specific than this, I won't end up writing it because I'll have tricked myself into already knowing what's going to happen. That said, I absolutely recommend you choose yourself a favorite plot structure (Save the Cat, Three Act, Five Act, whatever) and keep its major scenes in the back of your head. Vaguely adhering to a structure will make drafts two and three a helluva lot easier.

Once I've got a vague direction for the plot, I'll jump in and start writing. I personally use Word with default settings, as that's what I've been writing in since elementary school. I try and start near the front of the story, not caring much about the opening chapter, because I figure it's free words and the opening chapter will change. TBH not worrying about making the opening chapter at all remotely interesting helps me make everything behind the "opening" interesting. As I start to figure out the characters, maybe doing some more worldbuilding on the side, scenes I actually want to write start rolling in. I'll divert to go write those in what's usually a separate document (like an AU). After about 10k in the original document, I'll have a pretty good idea of whether or not the story is going where I want it to go. In the case of Prince, it wasn't, so I shelved the very first attempt at it and then started adding directly to the "AU" doc with all the changes I wanted to make.

I find I write best in the mornings or the evenings, and that afternoons are slow AF unless there's something else I should be doing, in which case, we're good to go. Depending on how fascinated I am staring at the blinky cursor, I'll handwrite. Handwriting for me also works well because it takes effort for me to read my own handwriting, so there's no chance of self-editing while I'm going for it.

On the topic of self editing, for first drafts what I like to do when I know something is going to need reworking, or need a hint input before, or is missing something, or I just really want to skip to the next scene ('cause again, I prefer the linear thing when possible), I'll stick it in <<>> triangle brackets. It's easy to search. Some people I've heard use a word, like elephant. Others use square brackets. Whatever shape you like best, just the key is that you want it ctrl-f -able. Putting things in brackets makes it so editor me doesn't butt in on creative me's time. It's gotten to the point where I even do it while handwriting, as a note for when I type it up to consider dealing with it (or, again, pass it off to draft two future me. I owe future me several coffees for all my little <<triangle notes>>).

Somewhere in here I'll try and come up with a synopsis type thing. TBH these usually turn out more as query-letter type things for me, but whatever. That's what the WIP intros for Attenuate and Prince for Hire are. These I've found help guide me, and keep in aligned with the general tone of the piece. If you'd like, I'd be happy to try and wrangle up the advice I used for writing those.

If I realize I'm having some trouble wrangling the character (mostly apparent to me by the 15k mark), I'll pause, break out the notebook, and play arm-chair psychologist with them. What I'm looking to find in these sessions is a version of the classic "goal-want-need." I don't like being that structured though, so for me I go with Goal 1&2, Surface Belief 1&2, Actual Belief 1&2, and Need. At the bottom are the pages I did for Madison (Attenuate/Reverberate) and Kiris (Prince), and what that looks like in my OneNote. Their need--and the beliefs they need to overcome to get there--will give me the overarching emotional direction of the plot.

TBH I'm pretty sloppy on my worldbuilding. I usually figure it out as I write the first draft. Did I know that tea was going to be a very important, entirely truthful ritual for the princes' competitions? Nope. Not until I needed to kick the plot into gear and hit Kiris with the inciting incident, then bam, Prince Nazvili was ordering him to tea and he was freaking out because that isn't the way things are done.

Throughout this entire process, I'll also keep a running checklist of things to-do. These are things I'll usually <<note>> somewhere in the actual first draft manuscript, but which apply to the manuscript as a whole rather than that one specific section. Basically, if it's going to require a major change or continuity for longer than three paragraphs, it gets a to-do box.

Sometimes, I'll find that what I have just isn't working. That's what the "stuff I 2022" document is for! It's a hodgepodge of ctrl-x'd things from every project I've worked on this year that just weren't working in the main manuscript. Like a shipyard, I guess. All the words still exist if it turns out I want to add them back in or need to reference something, but they're basically in the recycle bin. The things added here vary in length from a sentence to a 30k segment (although the longer items generally only happen during later drafts).

Finally, the real way I keep the ball rolling? Work on it every day. Sometimes "work" will be that one miraculous 5k day. Sometimes it'll be half a word (actually though. There was one point in Reverberate where I just didn't have the mental energy to really work on it, so I tapped in the "Th" of "this" and that was it). Sometimes "work" will be coming up with characters, or figuring out worldbuilding, or dealing with some of the <<notes>>, or even just adding a comma. If it somehow progresses the WIP, it's work.

Anywho, like I said, that was long AF. I hope it helps, and never hesitate to ask questions :)

The armchair studies for Madison and Kiris. If you can read these, I salute you.

[image IDS: two graph paper pages full of scribbly handwriting. Both begin with Wants… Believes… Believes… sort of in columns. They continue, with white space, answering back and forth questions which grow increasingly personal. End id]

#writing resources #long #very very long #writblr #writerblr #writing #hendo's toolbox #also completely unedited

[japanese-cryptic-beauty]

Post 2: Correcting Post 1

Or: The journey of Japanese is a journey of folly.

So, I wrote that Japanese has pitch but it's usually not important for meaning, you just sound unnatural.

... Which is something you could say ... Kinda ... sorta ...

Only the Universe has been bombarding me with the importance and prevalence of pitch ever since. So I want to qualify the statement, at least.

Check out this interesting post I found here. Now, if I read this slightly cryptic answer right (it talks about "word-accent" which I assume can mean both "pitch" - Japanese, Chinese - and "stress" - English), pitch is significant to distinguish words with same sounds (homonyms) as follows: Chinese - 71%, Japanese - 13%, English - 0.47%.

Unsurprisingly, in a language (Chinese) using (in its standard pronunciation/main dialect) 5 pitches to differentiate words, pitches are "damn important" (71%). But 13% is actually also quite significant. Your mileage may differ.

Personal bias in skimming information

Now, for me, myself, this is not so surprising. I may have come across the information that pitch exists in Japanese probably twice but my brain may have chosen to willfully ignoring it.

(Textbooks may mention it but then omit it to not overload beginners, I guess.)

Thing is, I have a horrible history with learning how to stress words in other languages. These little accent-y things and squiggles on top of words? They're my nemesis. So I guess I wanted there to be no equivalent of that in Japanese.

I had three years of Ancient Greek in school, an investment of my time that taught me a valuable lesson: Don't learn Ancient Greek. I'm kidding - or am I? - the valuable lesson was to do my choices in a less knee-jerk way. In hindsight, nothing of value would have come of learning Ancient Greek even if I did well. Your opinion may differ. Fine. I really think it's a colossal waste of time unless you make a job choice requiring it. The best it could have done for me was get better at the learning itself or the learning of languages in general. But it failed in the most important thing that language does: connecting people. If it fails at that, it barely has any right to remotely exist as a subject. Nobody likes you Ancient Greek, go away.

Besides the letters, Greek gave me major problems with the stress accents. Put it on a syllable and I would never manage to pronounce the word. I always put the stress wrong. My brain hasn't unlocked how that works. I notice the same in Spanish. I may emulate a speaker (not that I speak Spanish, but when I repeat after someone), but even then I might not even hear the difference.

I know I've aggravated my Swedish teacher for not hearing the difference between his "ooh" and "uh" sounds he was making for the letter "u." (Ironically a song based entirely on the sound "U" is now playing on shuffle.) Hopefully continued exposure and awareness of the problem might help...

There's some good news, though

While my chosen learning method of WaniKani doesn't display stress, it features two speakers, Kyoko and Kenichi that say the readings. I wondered on occasion if they were real, but they do use pitch when pronouncing words. (And they might slightly vary between each other.)

So there's a neat little feature:

You pick your speaker and chose to let pronunciation play out every time the reading is featured - in case of reviews after you transcribed it yourself first.

I have to admit I was in the habit of not playing it when I could do multi-kanji word readings well, but this exposes me to pitch and pronunciation peculiarities I might otherwise ignore.

More exposure!

[EDIT:] Probably more good news, depending where you come from

So, in researching this I came across this article. It provides two pieces of context that I want to quote .

A reply to a letter to the editor of a manga magazine printed in Romaji (without accent marked) quoted in point 5: "When two or three words sound exactly alike except for pitch accent, context is going to resolve the ambiguity virtually 100 percent of the time. In practical terms, accent is probably the least important aspect of Japanese pronunciation no matter what your level of language skill."

In other words, even bad pitch accent will be understood almost always. This is where I first will employ the most horrible, stereotypical example that's ALWAYS trotted out to justify anything: the chopsticks/bridge example.

Chopsticks and bridge both transcribe to "hashi" (and to the same Hiragana). They only vary in rising and falling pitch. Now you could argue that makes pitch important. But as the above quote states - context usually resolves that quite reliably.

I mean, having browsed reddit and Quora for a while, you will inevitably see this being trotted out, and people ask the rhetorical question: Don't you think it's important to know if the bridge is burning or a set of chopsticks?

Rhetorical questions are, of course, only questions in the most technical sense. They're usually just people being smug or actually making biased or even bad faith arguments.

As mentioned above, people are not dumb. Japanese is already incredibly context-sensitive. You constantly have to keep track of things said before - because omission is common. You can leave out the subject because you mentioned it before as "the topic." Good luck with translating that, AI...

You usually can infer what is being said. But propagators of the burning chopstick dilemma are trying hard to make you think their way. Or are they even trying? It's so tired an example. If there were lots of these, surely people would quote them, too? Who cares what's going on with the damn bridge, anyway?!?

Okay, moving on.

I found this from point 6 a very useful and probably true assessment: "People without hearing impairments can mimic the melody of language, but they can hardly interpret visual accent markers into the oral/aural domain without special training because visual and auditory stimuli are processed very differently in the human brain. In all likelihood, the author of the above-mentioned letter simply feels more comfortable visually with accent markers. But using such markers to speak Japanese creates pronunciations that are worse than a crude synthesizer."

Well, I was notoriously bad at it in one language already. I guess I will hold my horses on trying to make that my method. Thankfully, audio material is available in enormous quantities, so we can learn from the melody of native speakers. And that is good news.

#learning japanese #ancient greek #pitch accent #wanikani

[awrldalone]

28th September 2022, 5.38pm

Staying home for a few days felt like a holding my breath. 

Friday was a good day, after all. My father picked me up at the airport and we had lunch together with my sister; I tried fried basil, its taste was explosively fresh, sweet, crunchy, I would have eaten it all day. 

Afterwards, I bought some books with my culture bonus, mostly because I was starting to get scared I would forget my own language. I got, in Italian: The Birth of Tragedy by Nietzsche (which I devoured already – so many interesting ideas – such a lively, lemon zest work of literary analysis, philology and philosophy); The Golden Ass by Apuleius (never will I read a Greek or Latin classic in a language that is not Italian); Superba è la Notte by Alda Merini (one of my favorite poetresses); The Abyss by Marguerite Yourcenar; Forbidden colors by Yukio Mishima; Umili prose by Pushkin. 

While walking home, I stopped to visit my grandparents. My grandpa, not even three weeks ago, had a stroke – when they told me, two days had passes, and I called him, worried, to know how he felt. He told me he was completely okay, that he went to get the groceries that morning. On Friday he seemed visibly older, bonier, but I might have imagined it. He was as lucid as ever, though. And fo course, so was his wife. 

I spent the night in my bed, fresh sheets, warm blanket, pitch black sleep. Sleeping well has become a rare occurrence. I realized how much I missed my room. My little corner of world in a house I detested. I slept until late morning on Saturday. I just let the time pass in pleasant boredom, in the quiet of the empty home. 

In the afternoon, I paid a visit to my other branch of the family, my grandmother, because my father said this might be the last chance I have to see her. He thinks she will die, he probably hopes she will because nothing remains of her but papery skin, muffled words tangled in endless querulous phrases, which she gets mixed up. She starts with a thought and loses it immediately just to pick it back up five thoughts later. My father told me to kill him if he ever gets that way, and I do not think he was joking. 

That man still makes me feel dirty when he is around. The weekend before I arrived, my sister was supposed to sleep at his house, and at ten p.m. she walked all the way back to our mother’s house. She’s eleven. It was Saturday night. How can you argue with you own daughter and let her go away like that? 

Saturday night I hung out with my friends. We had dinner together - the best pizza of all time - and I talked a lot with Ce. She is going crazy too. I think we are very similar, me and her, she is just a lot more anxious, and perhaps that goes proportionally with smartness. I keep finding reasons why I fucked up, why I should not be here, and every day I keep thinking about Mitski’s Working for the Knife. 

I always thought the choice was mine / And I was right, but I just chose wrong

Sunday I voted. All for nothing. Stupid fucking fascists. But I give this new government a couple of months. Let’s say four, then it will fall like all the others. 

Monday my plane took too long to arrive. I woke up at five thirty, I was at the airport at six thirty, the plane was at eight, then it was at eight twenty, then eleven twenty. I slept through all the turbulences. 

I read Nietzsche, underlining and annotating the thick pages with a mechanical pencil J. gifted me when he came to Venice from Korea. I miss him. I was thinking that things would be much better if he was here, he is such a bright person. Bubblegum pink, sunny yellow and deep blue, I would say. I was thinking that Arca is the embodiment of the Dionysian. Björk might be one of the only modern day equivalents to the wedding between the Apollonian and the Dionysian.

I arrived home at six. Unfortunately I skipped class, and I sat on my dirty floor, a suitcase to unpack, hands to wash, for an hour or two. 

My housemate is still in Italy, so, in the meantime, our friend M. is living here. She came back from Fashion week a few hours after I got home, and we have been living together since. V. will be back tomorrow. 

#diary #dark academia #blog #light academia #music #literature #greek classics #philosophy

[notnctu]

backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst  wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi​​​ ; @darkneogotmyback​​​ ; @im-lame-irl​​​ ; @p-mini​​​ ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck​​​ ; @saniahmichael​​ ; @jaehy9ngs​​​ ; @danyxthirstae01​​​ ; @jaehyunoos​​​ ; @pikijaemin​​​ ; @suhweo​​​ ; @yunoyeol​​​ ; @lanadreamie​​​ ; @ta3ilmoon​​​ ; 

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):

While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.

Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.

Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.

But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.

“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.

“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.

You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.

“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.

Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”

His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.

The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.

But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.

When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”

“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.

“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.

However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.

“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”

“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.

He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”

“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.

“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”

You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”

“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.

“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.

Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.

Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.

Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?

Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.

“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?

Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.

Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”

Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.

“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”

The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.

But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.

“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.

“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”

The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.

Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.

“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.

“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.

Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.

Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.

You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.

Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.

You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.

“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating. 

“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.

His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.

You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.

“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.

“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”

You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”

Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.

One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”

Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.

The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.

He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.

While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.

“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.

“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.

“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.

“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.

“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.

“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.

The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.

But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.

No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.

This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”

“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.

“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.

“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”

“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.

“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”

It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart. 

Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.

In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.

“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.

“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.

“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.

“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.

“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.

“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.

“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”

“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”

“Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.

You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.

Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well. 

However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.

“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.

“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.

And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.

“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.

“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.

His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.

Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”

“I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.

“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.

The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.

He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.

The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.

“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.

Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”

“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.

“No, you called me honey.”

Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”

Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.

This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.

“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”

The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.

“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.

“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”

Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.

Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”

Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.

“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.

“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.

“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.

“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.

“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”

“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.

He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.

“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.

“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.

“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.

It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.

“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”

“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.

“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.

Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.

Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.

But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.

“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.

“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.

“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.

“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.

“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.

Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.

Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”

“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.

“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.

“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.

Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.

“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”

During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.

“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.

Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”

Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”

You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.

It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.

“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.

“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.

But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.

Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.

Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.

The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.

Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”

He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.

But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.

You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.

Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.

His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”

“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.

Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”

You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.

“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”

He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.

“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”

“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.

His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.

“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.

“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”

Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.

Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”

All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”

“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.

“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.

“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.

“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.

“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.

“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.

He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.

He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.

You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.

He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.

“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.  

“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.

“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.

Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.

It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you. 

#neosmutcollective #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct smut #jaemin #nct #jaemin smut #jaemin scenarios #na jaemin #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream smut #nct imagines #nct dream series #ridinclub

[miekasa]

1+1 (levi ackerman)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au, fluff...... again....... is it getting boring and predictable yet lmao, once again the dog’s name is captain and no i do not regret it

↯ word count: 2.5k

↯ summary: levi ackerman is a cuddler, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. (aka me once again pushing my physical affection is levi’s love language agenda because he’s a poor, touch-starved little man).

i. the lap pillow: person A sits upright, while person B rests their head in person A’s lap. head pets and hair playing option, but highly encouraged.

Levi spent an obnoxious amount of time picking out the perfect couch for his apartment. He might have paid a little bit more than what he’d originally budgeted for, but it was worth it; his soft, plush couch and accompanying cushions were equally comfortable and beautiful, matching the interior of his living room, and posing at the perfect nap spot when Levi was too tired to make it to the bed, or wanted to lounge around with Captain for a while.

Or, well, it used to be worth it. Because now, Levi would rather lay his head on your lap than on his stupid, expensive couch and all its cushions.

Sure, the couch still provides comfort or refuge for the rest of his body, a comfy cavern to stretch his limbs or crash on after a long day, but with you there, all the benefits go to his head; literally, because when his head is in your lap, you stroke his face, comb through his hair, pad your thumb against his lips—whatever, Levi doesn’t really fucking care, because all of it is heavenly.

“Do you want to go to bed?” you question softly, hand raking through Levi’s hair. He’s lying on his back, not even pretending to have been watching the TV, as to let you have maximum access to his hair and face.

“No,” he says shortly, shifting his foot around to allow for your yorkie puppy to curl up at the other end of the couch, “Comfortable here.”

You try to hide the chuckle from escaping your lips. Levi certainly wasn’t shy about how much he liked your affections, especially within the closed walls of his apartment; but it always amused you just how simultaneously clipped, yet clingy he could be about it.

“Your neck is going to hurt, love,” you tell him, slowly moving your right hand from his hair to trace along his eyebrow, then down his cheek.

Levi huffs, ever so slightly. Then, gently, turns on his side, rotating his body and head, so that his cheek is now pressed along your thigh, legs curled up to his stomach, allowing Captain more space to curl into a ball at the base of Levi’s feet. He bends his arms, both coming to rest on your thighs as well, just an inch from his face.

“It’s fine like this,” he grumbles, voice thick with sleep—and a bit of frustration, because you’ve ceased playing with his hair at this point, “I’m going to take a nap, don’t move.”

You can help your laughter from escaping, “I don’t really have a choice, now do I?”

He hums in affirmation, shifting around just a bit to his comfort. You smile at the way he wiggles his toes, Captain taking it as an invitation to snuggle closer to Levi. You rest your right hand against Levi’s shoulder, lightly massaging his muscles as to not disturb his drifting to sleep, and resume your focus on the TV ahead of you.

Just when you’d thought Levi was on his way to falling asleep, he lets out a discontented grunt, moving his arm backwards to grab at your wrist, and with gentle, but firm force, moves your hand that was massaging his shoulder to the top of his head. He says nothing, only moves his hand back to its previous position, and once again shifts to readjust his napping position.

You get the message, and with a wide smile, you carefully begin to thread your fingers through his hair again; and with a satisfied purr, Levi snuggles his head into your lap, and finally drifts off to sleep.

ii. the half spoon/chest rest: person A lays flat on their back, while person B curls into their side, laying their head on person A’s chest.

Levi rarely falls asleep before you do, so he’s had quite a bit of time to observe your sleep habits—as non-creepily as possible, of course.

You’re a pretty normal sleeper—again, not that he spends his time watching other people sleep, or anything—but you do have your own quirks; most of which Levi finds endearing on some level or another. Like the way you always have to have a minimum of three pillows on your side of the bed, even if you don’t sleep with all three of them at the same time. And the way your arms subconsciously curl up, usually around a pillow if Levi isn’t there, or even around yourself if there’s no object for you to grasp.

One of your sleeping ticks he isn’t particularly fond of is the way you move around. Not sporadically, and thankfully, not to a point that leaves you sprawled across the mattress at an obscure angle, but just… around. He especially hates when you roll away from him, because you usually roll away and never roll back.

Which is why Levi is generally fond of cuddling positions in which he’s holding you, as to make sure you don’t, quite literally, roll out of his arms. Because nothing pisses Levi off more than waking up and realizing you’ve rolled away and taken to snuggling against your pillow instead of him. He’s much better than a pillow. Warmer, too. Not mention, a real, actual human being.

Right now, you’re tucked almost expertly into Levi’s right side, head laying on his chest, your right arm over his stomach, hand just barely tickling the exposed skin from his shirt riding up. Levi likes the feeling of your shallow exhales rippling against his shirt, and the warmth of your cheek pressed against his chest.

He’s about to fall asleep himself, when he feels you shuffling, and oh no, not on his watch. Before the worst can happen, Levi secures his right arm over your shoulder, as to hold you against him. The urge to roll seems to leave you then, the only movement is of your right arm, which you bend at the elbow, now laying your palm against his pecs.

Levi exhales, content. Now he can sleep peacefully. Well, almost. There’s one more thing he likes about this position, and it’s his ability to use his free hand to reach down, scoop under your knee and drape your leg across his waist—and he does so happily; smiling to himself as you subconsciously burrow yourself further into his side.

Much better, Levi thinks, letting his eyelids flutter shut. It was time for bed, after all, and he had a feeling he’d be waking up warm and cozy in the morning.

iii. full contact cuddle: person A sits or lays on their back, while person B rests almost directly on top of them.

“I don’t get why you like this so much,” you say, words mumble, as you shimmy up Levi’s body to lay your cheek against his chest, “How do you possibly benefit from this?”

If you asked Levi, this was probably his favorite way to cuddle. Something about having almost all of your body weight on top of him, your head against his chest, and his arms wrapped completely around you just made him feel warm, and cozy, and content. Plus, the added bonus of you laying directly on top of his dick.

He could say all of that, but instead he opts for a minimal hum, and, a simple, “It’s warm.”

“Yeah, because you’re warm, Levi,” you point out, but burrow into his skin anyway. You’re not exactly complaining, laying on Levi is nice; especially a shirtless Levi, with how warm his body runs. And, well, for other reasons, too.

Once again, you’re met with a non-committal hum. Levi just holds you for a bit, listening for the way your breathing slows and evens out, feeling for signs of your body slowing down against his.

After a while, he shifts his arms, moving so that they’re no longer stacked atop each other, but with his palms both resting against your back, creeping under your shirt. “It’s the weight,” he replies carefully, moving his right hand to rub against your skin, “It feels nice.”

“The weight?” you question, lifting your head to look at him, your chin poking into his chest. Levi looks down to meet your eyes, a small nod in reassurance.

“I can’t… explain it,” he tells you truthfully, “I just like the feeling of you against me. It’s not symbolic or any shit like that, it just, feels good. Sometimes feels like we’re… I don’t know, connected or some shit. I can feel you breathe when I breathe, and all that.”

It’s a poor explanation, and nothing close to what he wants to be able to convey, but you understand him anyways; you always do. You have to hold back your overgrown smile, just barely letting the corners of your lips turn upwards at Levi’s response. You extend your neck briefly to place a short kiss against his jaw, before turning to head to lay back on his chest.

“No, I get it,” you reassure him, snuggling against him for extra measure, “Feels nice to just know you’re there.”

Levi hums in affirmation, his hand squeezing at your waist affectionately—a silent thank you for being able to read between his lines. You lay like that for a while, your exhales tickling against Levi’s bare chest, while his hands massage at your back.

“Besides,” he says, his hands slowly venturing down past your waist; he squeezes at your hips, adjusting you so that your center is directly on top of his, and encouraging you to lift your upper half, so that you’re looking down at him, a full view of the wicked smile on his face, “I kind of have a thing for you being on top of me.”

iv. the seated snuggle: person A sits upright, maybe slouched a bit, while person B cuddles into their side; a hand wrapped around A’s waist or arm, and B’s head resting against A’s shoulder.

Levi likes his alone time, but even when he’s focusing on himself, he’s acutely in tune with you and your emotions. And to be honest with himself, he spends a lot of his alone time thinking about you—consciously or not, you find a way into his brain, and Levi has long since accepted that you’re a permanent, and very welcome presence in his life, one that can be more powerful and enjoyable that his own solitude.

Even when he’s sitting on the couch, right leg bent and tucked under his left at the knee, a book Hange had recommended in his hand, with a shitty hospital drama playing as background noise on the television; even then, when he’s relaxing and enjoying his novel, he purposefully feels out your presence and gauges your emotions.

Though, if you asked him, it shouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to understand that you were feeling a little out of it today—maybe not quite sad, but moving a bit slower, perhaps tired, or annoyed by your day at work—despite the cheery lilt in your voice. But Levi knew, he could feel it, that something was off; but he could also feel that this something wasn’t getting talked about today, or that, perhaps you just didn’t have the words to express it right now. 

Levi greets you as he would when you come through the door, tilts his head up when you lean down to give him a kiss, and lets you pad into your bedroom to change and shower. You shuffle around after that, making your way to the kitchen to reheat the dinner he’d cooked earlier, and flitter between your bedroom and the living room after that.

And Levi knows; he knows that you want to talk to him, but that you wouldn’t dare to interrupt his alone-time, because you know how important it is to him. What you fail to understand is that you’re just as, if not more, important to him because you give him space.

So, Levi waits until you’re hovering by the doorway of the living room again, and then, without looking up from his book, silently opens and extends his left arm. He counts three seconds before you come shuffling over to him, wasting no time tucking yourself into his side, and resting your head on his shoulder. Levi hums when he feels your cheek press into his neck, and wraps his arm securely around you.

“Long day?” he questions, eyes still on his book, but reading at a marginally slower pace now.

Your eyes flutter shut at the question, working harder to snuggle yourself into Levi, wrapping your arms around his waist, “The longest.”

Levi hums, finishing his page, and tucking the ear to mark his spot before closing his book. He turns his head to press a kiss into your forehead, and pulls you a little closer against him. “It’s over now, I’ve got you.”

v. the times together/pretzel: person A rests with back against a wall/couch/object, and person B mirrors their positions; both A and B’s legs are intertwined, while they look at each other.

Levi will only take a bath after he’s showered, because there’s no appeal in sitting in your own wet dirt. That being said, post-shower baths with you are something he looks forward to, especially after a long, drawn out work week.

You both sit facing each other, legs bent and intertwined, your empty champagne glasses resting on the tiled floor beside the tub. Levi lets you make bubble beards on his face, and smiles as you splash them away and placate it all with a crescendo of kisses.

“I love you,” you smile between presses of your lips, the palms of your hands squishing Levi’s cheeks together—and he just lets you, because he loves you.

Levi thinks it’s his turn now, though he has no interest in bubble beards, or mohawks, simply mirroring your actions to cup your face with his hands, pull you closer, a whisper on your lips.

Wet thumbs pad against your cheeks, and Levi thinks that even like this, with only the flicker of candle flames illuminating your face, that you’re beautiful, and the best thing he’s ever gotten the opportunity to love and care for in his life.

So he lets you know, “And I love you.” And he means it; and you know he does.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #aot fluff #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #eren x reader

[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. 

#jaehyun x reader #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #jaehyun fluff #nct fic #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fanfic #nct fanfic #moonwrites #i know i said no more 20k+ fics but............ this is literally karma isnt it #anyway i hope there aren't any typos i proofread like once that's enough k #also this is queued bcs im going on vacation ! :D

[arvinsescape]

Choices.

A/N: Another Mob!Tom fic, a longer one. It’s another darker one and I hope you all enjoy! Do not engage if the topics make you uncomfortable 💕 (side note: I managed to get switch!Tom in there).

Summary: You become the product of someone’s torture and now you have to decide what you want.

Warnings: Smut (oral, f rec), unprotected sex (wrap it up, stay safe), Violence, blood, injuries, bruises, language, misogynistic views. Minors do not engage. I think I got everything, possibly a few typos.

W/C: 8K.

The sound of skin-on-skin contact resonated through the halls, the sting in your cheek burning as Caleb shook the sting from his own hand.

“What did he do with my shipment?” Caleb hissed as he crouched down so he was eye level with you.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, when he finds out what you’ve done, he’s gonna kill you.” You said, probably a stupid thing to say as it earned you yet another smack to your already bruised cheek.

“I’ll give you one thing, you’re tougher than you look. Shame you think you’re worth more to him, he’s known for the last twelve hours I’ve had you and he’s done nothing.” Caleb laughed as he stood to full height.

“Bullshit.” You hissed and Caleb laughed.

“Oh come on, you don’t think men like us put women above our businesses do you? More women like you will come along, more cunts to keep our cocks warm. Let’s be real, that’s really all you are and ever will be to him.” He laughed and you winced at the harshness, maybe he was right. He wasn’t here, wasn’t here to help you.

“Now,” he announced as he made his way over to a table, taking a hammer off it. “I’ve quite frankly grown bored. Tell me what he did with the shipment, tell me where it is.” He said, he was yet again in front of you. He’d taken your hand in his and if your wrist wasn’t roped down to the chair you’d have slapped him.

“You have quite dainty little fingers.” He said as he stroked over them. “Shame I’m going to have to break a few.” He said and you felt defeated, utterly defeated.

“I don’t know what he did.” You answered in a breathy whisper. “He doesn’t get me involved.” It wasn’t strictly a lie, you knew he’d stolen the shipment just not how.

“Given up? I would to, must be disappointing.” He laughed again as he crouched down to your level, stroking your sweaty hair out of your face, running a thumb harshly over the bruise on your cheek. “Maybe he hasn’t even noticed you’ve gone, that spot you occupy in his bed probably isn’t cold, already filled.” He taunted and you felt the tears fall.

“Just let me go. I can’t help you.” You said, your heart was broken. He knew you were here, and he’d done nothing. Maybe it was all bullshit, maybe he didn’t love you like he said he did.

“But we’re having so much fun.” He said as he stood up again. “I know you know something, you must, you sauntered around that mansion enough.”

“I don’t.” You said, completely defeated now.

“Tell you what, you can serve as a lesson, I’ll give you back to him. Since you can’t help and show him what happens to his stuff when he messes with mine.” He said and you succumbed to the tears.

**

Tom was panicking he’d not seen you all day, you’d gone out for lunch and now he couldn’t get a hold of you. His mind was racing, he’d sent all of his staff out to find you and no such luck, it was like you’d disappeared into thin air. He was pacing his office, running a hand through his hair when he heard it. Three loud knocks to his mansion’s door. He hastily made his way downstairs, Harrison in tow.

As soon as he opened the door, a body collided with his own. He only just caught it in time, the body almost limp in his arms. It took his brain a moment to catch up as he realised just who it was that had been thrust into chest.

“Caleb sends his regards.” A man laughed and Tom felt frozen. How had this happened? Not you, not his precious princess. Tom watched as the man disappeared, Harrison giving chase.

It was your small fist on your right hand that grasped his shirt that brought him back to reality, he picked you up, one arm around your back, the other in the crook of your knees as you winced in pain.

“I’m sorry princess.” He mumbled as he took in your features, you looked so tired, bruised cheek. Tom felt his anger rise, Caleb should count his days lucky because when Tom found him it would be the last day he spent on Earth. He took you into your shared room, placing you carefully on the bed as he took in the rest of you. The outfit you’d worn that day was dirty but still intact, your wrists were raw, evidence of the rope that had tied them down, the same with your ankles.

You had bruises almost everywhere, face tear stained. You were half awake, weak as you fluttered your eyes occasionally before closing them again. Tom sat with you on the bed for a while, thinking about his next move, of all the ways he was going to torture Caleb for doing this to you. He heard commotion downstairs and knew Harrison had caught whoever had brought you back to him.

Tom didn’t leave you, he knew Harrison would take over, bring the men back and make sure whoever he’d caught was dealt with until Tom could deal with it. Harrison was his right-hand man, one of his most trusted advisors. Tom looked down at you, moving stray strands of hair from your face, he almost cried at the sight.

He kept a hand on your chest, evidence you were alive. He brought his lips to your forehead as he kissed it, a tear making its way down his cheek. You didn’t deserve this, and he couldn’t protect you, he failed at the one thing he’d promised to himself. It wasn’t long before your eyes fluttered open to look at him.

You took in Tom as you opened your eyes, he looked tired, upset as he held a hand to your chest, hair a mess and those brown eyes had seemingly lost their usual spark. You looked at him, no energy to speak. He’d left you, didn’t come for you when you wanted him to, you briefly remember begging for him, pieces of the beating you’d taken coming back in flashes. You’d lost consciousness through parts, the pain too much.

“Hey Princess.” He breathed out, voice soft, quiet. It almost sounded like there was an ounce of care in there, but you must be delusional. You just looked at him and he sighed before disappearing. You didn’t really wonder where he’d gone, what he was doing, you were thinking about how to get yourself home, away from this and away from him.

It wasn’t long before he lifted you again, you were too tired to fight with him as he took you to the bathroom, stripped you of your clothes and put you into the bath. The first bath you had was to get rid of the dirt, Tom ever so carefully washing your body and hair, it almost had you fooled into thinking he cared. He’d fooled you for almost two years now though.

He almost cried again as he took in the bruising that was all over your body, he took your left hand into his own and you winced, almost crying out in pain. He studied your hand, as if in some sort of mocking he took in the bruising of your left finger, the one he intended to place a ring on. He could tell just by looking at it that it was broken. He whispered out an apology, he needed to call his personal doctor to come and see you.

He lifted you again, carefully, before running a second bath, placing you in there, probably hoping the hot water would relax your tired muscles. It was silent, the only sounds being your winces, Tom’s quiet apologies and his soft kisses to your skin. Tom was the first to properly break the silence.

“I’m so sorry princess.” He said softly and you wondered how this man, your Tom could have left you like that, left you to die for all he knew. You didn’t speak, too tired for an argument with him. He sighed as he sat with you, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as you got lost in your own thoughts.

Your gut was telling you it couldn’t be true, your Tom wouldn’t have left you like that, he’d have come for you if he’d known but your head was full of the things Caleb had said. Full of the doubt he’d put there, the doubt that Tom loved you at all, that he felt anything for you. You felt more tears slip down your cheek as you hastily and angrily tried to wipe them away.

“Hey, hey, I’m here, I’ve got you.” Tom said as he lowered himself to take you into his arms. Your good but wet hand fisting the dry fabric of his shirt as you cried into his shoulder. “You’re okay. I’m here.” He repeated as you cried for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I’m gonna take you to bed okay? I won’t leave you, not tonight.” But he already had hadn’t he? He’d left you with Caleb, maybe you were just a good fuck, and he couldn’t be bothered to find anyone else now that you were back.

He lifted you for the last time out of the bath, draining it as he stood you on your feet, wrapping a towel around your fragile frame. Rubbing his hands along your arms in an attempt to help you dry off. You didn’t fight him as he placed a shirt, his shirt, over your head, helping you get into bed. Everything about him was so soft in this moment, so gentle, it made it hard to believe what he’d done tonight or on the contrary, what he’d not done.

Tom’s doctor came and left, securing your finger, whatever he said to Tom was drowned out by your own thoughts. You tuned back in to hear the doctor say that your bruises were okay, you were going to be okay. But that was lie, you weren’t okay, far from it, not emotionally at least.

You fell asleep that night, hand fisted into his shirt, it was keeping you grounded, reminding you that you were here, with Tom, in his room, not back there. It was a reminder you weren’t dreaming. Tom held you until you fell asleep, coaxing your not broken fingered hand to interlace with his own, you knew you were probably grasping his hand too tight, but you needed to keep yourself anchored, stop yourself falling apart. You were tired and in no mood to fight and being here with Tom was a far better alternative than being back there with Caleb.

Tom was drifting into his own sleep when your scream jolted him awake, probably woke the whole mansion. Your body suddenly moving from his own as you became completely unsettled, face contorting in pain. Tom was quick to move as he tried to wake you, dodging your flailing arms, he took them in his hands, careful of your finger, pinning them above your head.

“Princess, it’s okay, it’s me. It’s Tom, it’s just me. You’re safe.” He repeated as he watched your eyes snap open and meet his, he was shocked to see the rage in them.

“Get off me.” You screamed at him, and he did, instantly, releasing you from his hold as he sat up, you sitting up onto your knees as you looked at him.

“Princess, it’s okay, calm down.” He reassured as he carefully went to take your hand in his, you slapped it away and stood up off the bed.

“Stay away from me, Tom. I want to go home.” You snapped and he stood from the bed as well. He heard a knock at the door, ignoring it.

“Baby, you are home.” Tom was utterly confused at your turn towards him, you looked so angry, so hurt with him and he couldn’t understand it. He’d spent all day looking for you, used every resource he had to try. He made his way towards you again, placing his hands on your shoulders.

He watched as you cried again, falling into his chest, you were tired, confused, that much he could tell. Like you were fighting an internal battle with yourself, one he knew nothing about, and it was frightening him, your sudden anger towards him setting him on edge. He heard a knock on his door again and bit back his anger, for your sake.

“Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it in the morning.” Tom snapped, hands moving to cover your ears as not to startle you. You suddenly moved, ripping yourself from his grip as you looked at him wildly.

“You left me.” You said and Tom looked confused, he felt confused.

“What, princess, I don’t know what you mean.” He said calmly.

“Bullshit. You left me and you know you did. Why is it you keep me around? A good fuck? The minute my life is in danger, you do nothing. You really had me fooled.” You ranted as you paced the room and Tom felt more confused than he ever had in his life. Left you? He would never, had he known where you were, he’d have come straight for you.

“I didn’t leave you princess, I promise. You know me, I love you. You know I’d do anything to make sure you’re safe.” He said as he carefully approached your figure, stopping your pacing and forcing you to look at him, tears streaming down your beautiful face again. You looked at him almost desperately, like you wanted to believe what he was saying but couldn’t.

“I, Tom. I can’t get these thoughts out of my head. I don’t want to believe that you left me, but you did. How do I know that what you’re saying isn’t bullshit?” You spoke, voice broken, and Tom almost cried again.

“If I’d have known where you were, I’d have come for you. You know me, Y/N, you know me.” He said sincerely.

“I want to believe you but I can’t. Caleb said-“

“Whatever he said was bullshit, baby, you know me. You know I’d move the world for you.” He said as he stroked your hair.

“I need to get away.” You spoke and you looked at him, you were begging him not to argue with you. “I need to think.” You said and it was so desperate that Tom couldn’t deny you, you needed it and he’d give it to you.

“Okay baby, I’ll let you go. Wherever you want, but tonight please just stay here and I’ll take you where you want to go tomorrow.” He pleaded and he watched you fight an internal battle with yourself, he knew what you were thinking. He knew you were thinking that if you spent the night in bed with him, you were scared you’d wake up tomorrow and all will be forgiven. Tom’s heart tore in two as he opened his mouth to speak.

“I’ll sleep next door. If you need anything that’s where I’ll be.” He said as he kissed your forehead and made his way out of the room.

It was 5 o clock in the morning when the door opened in one of his spare rooms, a body colliding with his own as it clung to him. He didn’t fight you when you climbed on top of him, wrapping yourself in him. His heart hammered in his chest, he was conflicted, you’d just asked, begged, for space and here you were making sure there wasn’t an inch of it.

You were on top of him, trying to pull his arms closer around you and he didn’t fight, not when he heard the small sigh leave your lips. He was careful not to hurt you as he placed his arms around your trembling figure on top of him.

“I just, I can’t. I need to feel safe.” You cracked voice reached his ears. He was conflicted, he knew this would have you feeling differently in the morning, but he couldn’t forget the pleading look in your eyes when you told him you needed space. He’d let you have this, give you what you needed tonight but tomorrow he had to let you go. As much as it would rip his heart out he had to let you go.

He held you, carefully as your breathing evened out in the crook of his neck. He was used to you wanting his touch but never like this, not this much. It was almost like you wanted to get inside him, wrap yourself completely in him, like you couldn’t get close enough. He did his best, did his best to make you feel covered and only when he heard your soft snores did he know that he’d been successful at making you feel safe.

“I love you so much.” He said as he held you and let his own tears fall.

**

He woke up and felt no weight on top of him, you’d moved. He thought you’d be downstairs and was shocked to see you sat cross legged on the bed next to him.

“I’m sorry about last night.” You said.

“You’re sorry?” He asked, what?

“I just, I couldn’t sleep without you.” You clarified and he nodded as he studied you carefully. He knew what was about to come, knew he needed to be a better man than he’d ever been in his life, for you. “I was thinking,” you started as you cleared your throat, although it did nothing for the croakiness of it. “Maybe we should talk.” You offered and his heart shattered, last night you were scared of it happening and it had.

He sat up as he rubbed his hands down his face, collecting himself because this was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. He just couldn’t forget that begging in your eyes. The way you pleaded with him to let you go and in his mind this was the right thing to do. Be the man you’d begged him to be last night.

“You’re mind was pretty made-up last night.” He grumbled and he didn’t miss the way your eyes melted at his morning voice.

“I’ve had a chance to sleep.” You ran your uninjured hand through your hair as you shrugged.

“Y/N,” He hated using your name, he hardly ever used it but pet names? Not right now. “With me.” He continued and you furrowed your brows.

“So?” You huffed back.

“You begged me to let you leave last night.”

“I’ve changed my mind, I can’t sleep without you.” You said.

“Don’t do this to yourself, last night you wanted, no needed to leave, you told me so.”

“I was confused. Tommy,” that fucking nickname. “We can talk it out and I can stay here.” You were making this hard.

“I can’t. Y/N, you need let me do the right thing here, the right thing for you.”

“So you just want to leave me again?” You huffed out, anger rising on your ever beautiful features.

“Again? I told you last night that’s not what happened.” His voice still soft. “You need to clear your head and you and I both know you won’t do that when I’m here.” He reasoned, he knew you had to find a way to process this, and he knew what would happen if he let you stay.

He’d done his own thinking last night and he knew if he let you stay, if you allowed yourself to just get wrapped up in him instead of process what had happened to you and the cause of it, the cause being his lifestyle. He couldn’t do that to you, he needed to let you think even if that meant letting you go forever. He was ripping his heart out here and the look on your face was stomping it hard into the floor.

“But I don’t understand.” You whispered as you let a tear fall, Tom was quick to move and wipe it away, you caught his hand and brought it between your own.

“You will, you need to process this, need to think about what you really want. If you weren’t with me this never would have happened.” He said and you let out a choked sob, you knew he was right.

**

He’d moved you into a flat, well Harrison had moved your things in, Tom knew if he did it he’d become selfish and let you come home. Tom made sure it was secure, bought it in your name so you wouldn’t be attached forever if you decided to leave, it would be yours. He kept it safe but he stayed away, you’d been gone a week when you first called and out of instinct he answered.

“Tommy?” You sniffled down the line and he knew a nightmare had just woken you up.

“Y/N, this isn’t a good idea.” He warned softly.

“I know, I didn’t call you any of the other nights, but I just need to sleep.” You said and he sighed, running a hand over his face.

“What do you need?” He asked and he hoped you wouldn’t say what he thought you were going to, that would make it harder on both of you.

“Can you, I know you won’t come here and I can’t come there, can you just talk to me? Please?” You asked in a whisper and Tom couldn’t refuse.

“What do you want me to talk about?” He asked and he heard you sigh down the line.

“I don’t know, just anything.” You said and he heard you shuffle around presumably to get more comfortable.

**

That was the first of many phone calls, the two of them indulging themselves late at night when neither could sleep. Tom never called you, you always called him. He was becoming conflicted, he probably shouldn’t be doing this but he was too selfish.

“Tom?” You said and he knew that voice, already feeling blood rush downstairs. It’d been a while since he’d had any sort of relief.

“Y/N/N.” Tom groaned and he heard you giggle slightly, in that seductive way that could get him going at the most inconvenient times and you knew it. Yeah you were definitely horny and this wasn’t a call to help you sleep.

“Tom, I need you.” You panted down the phone at him and he threw his head back into his pillow.

“Y/N, no.” Tom said, firm tone and he heard you shuffle around and hoped to god you weren’t gonna start doing what he knew you were probably thinking. If he heard you moan that would be it, he’d drive over and he couldn’t let that happen.

“Come on, Tom don’t be a killjoy. You always want me.” You said and he heard you shuffle again.

“This isn’t a good idea.” He said, cursing himself for growing hard.

“Come on Tom, we’ve done it before.” You said and then he heard it, your little whimper that meant you’d probably touched your clit.

“Y/N.” He said firmly. He couldn’t let this escalate as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. He heard you huff. “Please don’t.” He said.

“You don’t want to hear me take care of myself?” You tried again, a moan slipping down the phone.

“No.” Yes.

“Fine.” He heard you huff in defeat.

“We need to stop these phone calls, they’re not doing you any good.” He spoke, voice firmer than he thought it would be to say his dick was currently straining in his boxers.

“I don’t want to, I won’t, I’m sorry.” You stumbled over yourself.

“It’s not just about calling me for phone sex, it’s all of it, it’s not a good idea.” He said, he’d never gone soft as fast in his life, the atmosphere had changed massively. “Y/N/N,” he sighed. “I want you to stop calling me, until your head is clear I want you to stop calling me.” He said, voice soft and he heard your sharp intake of breath.

“Okay.” He heard you say after a while before you hung up.

**

That was two months ago, he knew you were okay, of course he did but he had had zero contact with you. You were slowly processing what had happened to you, thinking about what you wanted. No matter how many times you thought to yourself that Tom’s lifestyle wasn’t the reason you’d been practically tortured a bruise would remind you that if you weren’t with him it wouldn’t have happened.

It wasn’t until you went to bed that you realised how much you wanted him even if it wasn’t a good idea. He made you happier than anyone ever had, he cared, fuck did he care. He always wanted the best for you, you wanted to be angry at him for doing what he did but you couldn’t. Every time you took a branch of that anger it led you back to the same trunk, the same reason, he’d done it for you, been the better man for you.

Tom was a selfish man everyone knew that, if he wanted something it was his but with you? He couldn’t, he never had been. It made you realise that Caleb was wrong, he had to be, Tom hadn’t behaved like a man who used you to keep his dick wet. There was no way he could have faked that for so long. He was always faithful, not like half the men that rivalled him, he just wouldn’t do that to you.

You love him, that much is clear to you, the way he makes you feel and looks after you is something you know you’ll never have again and ultimately it’s what made your decision. Although you knew that what happened before could potentially happen again, you found yourself unable to care, Tom was it for you. You had to follow your heart, it couldn’t take the pain of being away from him but it didn’t mean you’d turn as much of a blind eye anymore.

You knew who the man was, who you wanted to be with, you wouldn’t be the naive girlfriend anymore, the one who pretended none of it happened. You had to take some responsibility yourself, toughen up, if you were going to be with him, you needed to toughen up and wake the fuck up. Realise how dangerous his world can be and if you were going to make yourself a part of that then you had to make some changes.

As long as you could have him the way you loved him behind closed doors then it was a risk you were willing to take. You couldn’t stop yourself as you brought up the contact you’d not used in two months.

**

In the two months since Tom had asked you to stop calling him he’d still not managed to find Caleb. Every lead was a dead end. He missed you. Missed everything about you, he took solace in the fact that he knew you were safe and probably healing. He found himself wishing you would call and he’d gotten so drunk one night that Harrison had had to take his phone from his hand to stop him calling you.

He lost hope daily that you were going to call him, that you were going to show up and realised you’d probably done the smart thing and decided not to have anything to do with him. It hurt him, truly it did but was he to do? Make you stay? He knew if he’d let you stay another couple of nights in his bed then you’d just consume yourself with him and not think about what you wanted.

His phone made him jump when it rang, he wasn’t used to this anymore, wasn’t used to seeing your contact pop up, not over the last two months. He almost declined the call until he thought about why you might be calling, you’d made no attempt to contact him in all this time, maybe you were ready to talk, maybe you’d cleared your head. His thumb swiped at the green button as he put it to his ear.

“Can you come over?” That was all he got, no explanation, nothing.

**

His fist banged on the door, you knew it was him, you knew immediately. You knew him like the back of your hand. You opened it and couldn’t help the small gasp that left your lips, was he trying to drive you insane? Those dress pants, white shirt tucked into his pants, rolled up sleeves? Fuck, he always looked like he was formed by the gods themselves.

“Hi darling.” He spoke and you couldn’t stop yourself as you threw yourself at him, hugging him tight. It was nice to feel him hug you back, be back in those arms that did nothing but make you feel safe, at home.

“Hi.” You whispered as you pulled back and pulled him into your flat, he was yet to see it.

“Why the late-night call?” He asked.

“I wanted to see you.” You shrugged, licking your lips that had become dry just from looking at him. “I miss you.” You spoke honestly.

“I miss you too.” He said back so easily, no time to think about the words.

The atmosphere in the room felt thick, thick with tension, the last time you’d spoken to him you’d wanted him to help get yourself off and you grew aroused at the thought. Your fingers just didn’t quite cut it, nor did the vibrator. Nothing would feel as good as having Tom wedged between your legs as he fucked into you.

He looked at you like he was thinking the same thing, he’d always said his hand wasn’t as satisfying as your wet heat. You grew hotter the more you thought about it, the more you thought about him getting himself off to the memories of the two of you fucking, just like you’d been doing. He watched your every move ever so carefully, your bruising was now all healed, finger free from its bandages.

You looked like you again but you had a shine to you that Tom liked, you looked happier, almost healthier. Like you’d been properly taking care of yourself and he smiled, it was good too see you happy after his last memory of you. He cleared his throat after a moment and spoke.

“Do you want to talk?”

“Not right now.” You answered as you approached him. “I did, but I don’t, not right now.” You rambled out as your mind became clouded with lust, it’d been so long since you’d had him, you’d not had anyone else, why would you? They wouldn’t give it to you like Tom would.

“Is this a good idea?” He asked quietly as he studied you, you didn’t say anything as you leant up to kiss him, tenderly, far more tender than you’d initially thought you were going to. You both sighed at the contact, you wanted him. He studied you for a moment, looking for a sign of regret and when he didn’t find it he captured your lips again.

This time a little more forcefully, but not by much. You kissed tenderly, carefully, almost like you were remembering each other, basking in the way one another felt against them again. You pushed your lips more forcefully against his and he groaned slightly as your hands weaved into his hair. It was still careful, neither wanting to overwhelm the other.

His hands found a firm place on your waist as he pulled you closer to him, lips growing slowly firmer until Tom’s tongue was tracing your bottom lip and you granted him access. You both moaned in pleasure as your tongues found each other’s after so long, neither of you forgetting how they almost danced together. The sound of your lips finally uniting being the only sound in the quiet flat.

It wasn’t long before Tom had picked you up, carefully, and your legs were wrapped around his waist as he carried you down the hallway and into your bedroom. Your kiss had grown much heavier along the way, your arousal for each other settling in properly as the only emotion left was lust, need for each other. You untucked his shirt as he carried you, hand trailing up his toned back.

His hand was carefully squeezing your waist, grabbing a handful of your arse every so often. You felt him harden against you and you knew he knew how wet you’d be for him when he took your shirts off. He kicked your bedroom door open and when he turned to shut it he pinned you against it.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He was the first to say as he placed kisses along your throat, your hand fisting in the back of his hair.

“Feels like it.” You spoke as you felt his hardened length again.

“Like you’re gonna be any better.” He teased and as if to prove his point he ran a hand up your thigh and into your shorts, running his finger through your folds. “So wet.” He hummed.

He moved you and placed you on the bed, something digging into your back as he did. You moved your hand around until you found whatever it was and when you pulled it out you heard Tom mutter a ‘fuck.’

“Not quite the same but it took the edge off.” You said as you threw it down the side of your bed.

“Thinking about me?” Tom asked as he pulled your shirt over your head. “Did you touch yourself? Thinking about how well I fuck you with my fingers, tongue, cock?” He asked as he took in your braless and now topless figure. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Always.” You panted when he brought his mouth over your hardened nipple. He hummed in response and it sent vibrations through your entire being. It ignited you in a way it always had, in a way only he could.

“That’s fucking hot.” Tom said as he popped your nipple from his mouth and as you attempted to undo the buttons on his shirt. You grew frustrated when they wouldn’t play ball and sat up, Tom moving with you, he looked at you confused for a second before you quite literally grasped the middle of his buttons and ripped it off, buttons flying everywhere.

“Fuck me.” Tom said, never had he seen you so needy for him, so desperate. It was doing things to him he couldn’t explain, he didn’t have much time to think as you latched your mouth onto his neck and sucked. You knew exactly where his sweet spot was, not hesitating to suck, you moved his now open shirt off his shoulders and it dropped to the floor. It wasn’t until you pulled back, eyes darker, completely consumed by lust that he realised what you’d done.

“Have you just left a mark?” Tom asked, almost astonished, it turned him on to no end. You just shrugged as you laid back on the bed, looking up at him and he swears he lost his dominant side for second. Completely in awe of you.

“Oh baby,” he didn’t miss your breath hitch at the nickname as he regained himself and crawled back on top of you. His own lips found the top of your breast, sucking his own mark onto it. “It’s cute, watching you try and take dominance from me, but we both know who’s in charge, don’t we darling.” He asked as he sat back to look at his handy work. He’d kicked his shoes off by now as he laid on top of you.

“Tom, please.” You begged and he chuckled, completely consumed by desire, the pair of you were by this point. His cock was throbbing for you and he knew you’d be clenching and unclenching around nothing, around the idea of him being inside you.

“What does my princess want? My fingers?” He asked as he made quick work of your shorts, placing a finger inside you that had you rolling your head back and moaning in pleasure. His kisses trailing down your body as he looked up at you through hooded eyes. “My tongue?” He asked as he placed it carefully on your clit. Teasing you by halting all movements, watching you squirm as you tried to create friction. “Tell me baby.” He spoke before oh so slowly dragging his down your folds to meet his fingers and dragging it back up. You sat up to look at him between your legs, god the look on your face was something of pure pleasure in itself.

“All of it, Tom, I just want you.” You panted out and he chuckled as he moved his finger, carefully sliding in and out of you, mindful that it’d been a while and while he knew your own fingers had been inside you, your fingers were smaller than his.

“I suppose it’s been a while. Should fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, the way you’ve missed.” He said and before you could respond his tongue was back on your clit as he sucked and licked at it, watching, and groaning as you threw your head back, body arching off the bed as one hand fisted his hair and the other your bedsheets.

It wasn’t long before you were squirming beneath him as he added a second finger, opening you up for him, your body shaking as you neared your first mind blowing orgasm in almost three months. He could have blown his load just from watching you as you arched off the bed, screamed his name and tightened so well around his fingers as you came. Panting, body shaking as he helped you through it.

He expected you to be all fucked out when he climbed back on top of you, what he was not expecting was for your still just as lust blown and wild eyes looking into his own. You took him by surprise when you pushed him onto his back before climbing on top of him. You didn’t ride him often and when you did, it was never with so much confidence. It was like he’d awakened something primal in you and he fucking loved it.

You made light work of his pants and boxers, straddling him as you confidently took his cock into your hand and placed him inside you. He couldn’t stop the moan that left his lips at the feeling and also the sight. This was not what he was expecting as you placed your hands on his chest and moved your hips of your own accord.

You’d never been shy in bed, not when it came to being beneath him but every time he’d relinquish control and let you be on top you’d ask for his guidance. Not tonight, tonight you were using his cock to get yourself off and he loved it, loved the way it made him feel. He moaned as he gripped your hips, you’d taken control, he hadn’t given it and fuck if it made him almost finish inside you right there.

You moaned as you moved your hips, feeling every inch of him as the angle had him brushing that spot you’d not felt stimulated in a while and it made you almost scream his name as you fucked him. You wee both moaning, sweating and you expected Tom to take control back but he didn’t, he let you have all the control.

“So much for we both know who’s in charge Tommy.” You moaned and you expected a cocky response but none came, just a moan of your name. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You said as you felt your high approach, felt as you tightened around him and it only served to make you moved faster. Tom became something of a moaning mess underneath you, something you’d never seen before and that urged you on as you chased both of your highs.

“Just like that baby.” He said and your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt your orgasm fast approach. “Shit, Y/N/N, I’m gonna come.” Tom moaned and you don’t know what came over you, a feeling of pure power maybe, but you’re glad that it did.

“Come for me Tom.” You whispered, voice laced in lust and command as you placed your lips to his ear, leaning back to watch as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he moaned uncontrollably, moaning profanities laced with your name. You’d never seen him like this, you felt powerful above him, the ever so powerful Tom Holland reduced to a moaning mess because of you. It urged you to finish chasing your high as you fucked him through his. You collapsed onto his chest, with an almost scream of his name as you felt euphoria wash over you.

“Fuck.” Was all Tom had to say when he came down from possibly one of the most explosive orgasms he’d ever had. He loved being in control he really did, but watching you like that? You could have the control whenever you wanted it.

“Yeah.” You mumbled against his chest as tiredness washed over you. He flipped you over whilst staying inside of you, carefully drawing himself out as he cleaned you both up. Whilst he was busy doing that it gave you time to realise just how much power you had over him. He could have easily taken back the control, shown you who was in charge and he didn’t not even when you practically dared him to.

He came back into the bed as he massaged your thighs that were now aching slightly. You shivered as he did, body feeling sensitive all over after your orgasms. You played with his curls as he rested his head on your stomach.

“Where did that come from?” He asked, amused tone.

“I don’t know.” You said honestly, you didn’t, maybe it was the fact that you’d not been able to have him for three months. Maybe it was the desire to hold power over him, even if just in bed, you weren’t sure but he’d woken something in you that you liked.

“I’m gonna have to let you take charge more often.” He laughed as he continued to massage your thighs, your hands still in his hair.

“How come you didn’t take it back? The control?” You had to ask.

“Didn’t want it, not then. Fuck, you looked you so hot. It did something to me, watching you use me to get yourself off, taking your own pleasure like that, fuck.” He said as he kissed your stomach.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’ll be a sub now, I’ll miss you railing me into whatever surface we find ourselves on.” You laughed and he joined.

“No, but you can have the control, whenever you want it.” He spoke and it sounded so honest that your heart soared. Tom Holland did not give control to anybody, it wasn’t his style yet here he was telling you could have it whenever you wanted it. That’s how much he loved you, how much you were different to everyone else in his life. It solidified your decision.

“I want to come home.”

**

You’d worked things out between the two of you, a week’s worth of late nights and talking. You’d told him you wanted to be more involved, you didn’t want to shy away anymore, Tom was hesitant but agreed. You asked him to train you, make sure you could a least attempt to defend yourself, although that wasn’t going so well, every time he was teaching you one of you got distracted and you usually ended up underneath him.

Tom liked the change in you, you were tougher, more confident and he wondered what had brought the change. You were still the same woman he fell in love with, the same woman who was kind thoughtful and free but now? Now you weren’t afraid to speak your mind, you commanded a level of respect from his men now and he loved it. He loved everything about you and you him.

It was a month later when you both heard the commotion downstairs, you jolted up. Tom had only had to wake you from a couple of nightmares, they were seemingly leaving you, slowly but surely. Tom placed a hand on your arm, sitting up, your eyes frantically looked for his and calmed when they locked.

Tom got dressed as he made his way downstairs, he was shocked to see Harrison carrying the very man he’d spent just over four months looking for. He was struggling against Harrison but to no avail, Haz had a firm grip around the man’s arms.

“Found him, hiding out in some club.” Harrison spat as he threw the man down at Tom’s feet. He spat blood onto the tiled floor of the mansions entrance.

“Tom! How’d you like your girl? Sent her back nice and pretty for you.” Caleb said, laughing as he did. Tom felt his anger rise again, images of what he’d done to you filling his mind. Tom wasted no time in kicking him in the gut.

“Take him into the living room and tie him up, I’ll be back in a minute.” Tom said, he was going to say goodnight to you, this was going to take him a while. He huffed as he made his way into the bedroom and shit the door.

“What happened?” You asked as you rushed over to him.

“Haz found Caleb.” Tom said and he watched as panic flashed in your eyes for a moment before they found Tom’s.

“What are you going to do?” You asked, voice steady.

“Better question is probably what I won’t do.” Tom said as he took you into his embrace. He held you for a moment and kissed your head. You thought for a moment, this man had been your tormenter, the man who’d taunted you, made you feel heartbroken. This was the last part of getting over what happened to you. “I’m gonna be a while, so I came to say goodnight.” He whispered as he kissed your head.

“I want to come.” You spoke before you could stop yourself.

“What?” Tom asked, voice faltering.

“I want to watch you kill him Tom.” You spoke more confidently as you moved away from him.

“Absolutely not.” Tom said, sure he was willing to let you know about everything in his business, but seeing him deal with someone? No.

“Tom,” you said as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I need this, I need to see him die. I’ll know it’s over then.” You whispered.

“Sweetheart, you don’t, I know you think you do but you don’t. You’re not gonna wanna see what I’m gonna do to him.” He said firmly.

“Tom, please?” You begged as you looked at him and you knew he was fighting an internal battle within himself. “If it gets too much, I’ll leave, I promise. I won’t think of you any differently, Tom I know you’d never hurt me.” You said, hoping to win him over.

“It’s not for the faint-hearted love. It’s not like in films, this is real life and what you’ll see, what you’ll watch happen it’ll change you. Make you more like me, darken you.” Tom said and you looked at him with all the confidence in world. This was the life you wanted, the life you’d chosen and you didn’t hold a single regret.

“Good.”

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